Shopping and Women

I did it. I bit the bullet and bought myself a digital camera. Not only that, but through shopping on CNET, I found it for about $50 less than in any store, and I didn't have to pay any tax or shipping. So I am pretty happy. Plus, no store in the area has any more in stock. (I guess it must have been a popular holiday gift.) I figure I need a camera for my impending European tour. So far, I plan on going to Germany, Italy, and maybe Greece. I'm told Amsterdam is nice too, but we shall see. I'm opting out of France because it's been done to death.

I am still speaking with my ex. We tried not speaking, but it pretty much sucked. It was the least fun thing we had ever done together. She and I just have too much fun talking and spending time together to stop. It's weird. I guess the thing is that we did not breakup because we didn't like each other or enjoy one another's company. In fact, we rarely even argued. The problem is that we also did not breakup because we were no longer attracted to one another. So it is confusing. Hopefully, it will work out. I think the hardest thing would be if one of us started dating someone else anytime soon. That would probably be exceptionally awkward, but that's too far off for me to think about right now, hopefully. It is always hard to convert a lover to a friend, but we both think it is worth it and are both willing to work at it, and I've successfully done it before. So it's worth a shot. Besides, some of my closest friendships involved lots of work.

Personally, I want to take a year off from dating. I'm so tired of women and their drama, and it impacting my life. I'm told there are good women out there, but I just do not seem to meet them. Or maybe I'm not attracted to them. Maybe I have a subconscious desire to seek out women with drama. Maybe they remind me of my mother. Hard to say really, and so rather than question it or send too much time thinking about it, I've decided I should just take a break from it. Oh, avoidance, how I love you so. Maybe date here and there, but no relationships. Time and space.

I bought $50 worth of handmade chocolates for the office staff. They're pretty happy about the whole thing. Although, they are all rather concerned that they are going to get fat. I think I work with the thinnest office staff ever. It's so funny. In most offices I have worked in, the women were ... large. However, they are all rather health conscious in this one. Now if only they were younger and single. Yeah, just what I need, find a way to add more drama to my life with an office romance.

Christmas Planning and Beyond

I leave tomorrow for the wonderfully freezing land of Orlando - to spend Christmas with my best friend and his family. It's good to have friends. It's even better to have friends within a more reasonable proximity of you, but I'll take what I can get and the rest will follow in time, I'm sure. It shouldn't actually be too cold this weekend. It's supposed to warm up to about 75 in Orlando this weekend. So it should be bearable during the day, but with nights in the 40's and 50's, brrrr.

I am working on planning a trip to Europe this spring. One of my friends went to Europe right after breaking up with her boyfriend. She decided Europe would be a good place to recover from everything and get a better perspective on her life. I just have been planning on going to Europe for two years now and have never seemed to find the right time. Usually, the plans are made to incorporate the girl I am dating at the time. Then we breakup and I am left with useless plans. However, this time, I'm planning for just myself and maybe a friend (if I can find one that wants to go). I figured it was either go to Europe or buy an Acura TSX. I figure the Acura can wait a year. Vienna has waited long enough.

Even though her timing was terrible, I am glad that my ex did have the courage to tell me how she was feeling, rather than just running away again. I hope that we somehow manage to salvage a friendship out of it, in the future. I'm not sure it will really work, though. She seems to have issues with relationships of any kind with guys. No telling, but at least we parted on decent terms.

I hope everyone has a safe and wonderful holiday weekend, and that you all eat entirely too much.

Bird with a Buzz

Below I have lifted an article from the newspaper here, The Sun-Sentinel. It was just too funny to pass up.

SARASOTA -- A bird with a buzz found in a Central Florida family's Christmas tree is getting ready to go back into the wild, news partner NBC 6 reported.

The little screech owl was found in the tree, which the family had kept for five days before deciding to decorate it.

Animal control officers from Pelican Man's Bird Sanctuary came to get the owl, and said they smelled a strange odor on it when they did.

"Curiously enough, the owl's feathers smelled very, very potently like marijuana," said Jeff Dering, of the sanctuary. "They examined the owl, looked at its eyes, ... and the owl was, in the vernacular, stoned."

Blood tests confirmed the owl's drug state.

Sanctuary staff checked the bird out, fed him and named him "Cheech." They said he would be released in a few days.

The buzzing bird also brought an early holiday gift to the sanctuary, which was in need of more than $250,000. The attention the bird has brought has helped ensure the sanctuary's survival.

Cell Phone Woes

Ever since Hurricane Wilma hit, I have been having significant issues with using my cell phone where I live. If I travel ten (or in some cases two) miles away in any direction, my reception is perfect. However, from my apartment, my gym, one side of the grocery store (I don't make this stuff up people), all my usual haunts, my phone hasn't been working. For the first several months, I would receive the annoying message that the network was busy. Now it's even worse, as it looks like it is working: I will have full bars; it will attempt to dial; it will do everything you expect a phone to do, and then it will say that I don't have any service. Weird. Weirder still, if I leave my phone lying out in my apartment now, it will die within two hours.

I have spent weeks on the phone with Sprint PCS, explaining my problem, going to the store, being transferred to everyone and their mother. I was even sent a new phone just to shut me up. Two months, and I still don't have phone service. Then two days ago, I got the secret number. I learned that they could report problem tickets and get things fixed. Hooray. Later that night, they called me to let me know that the problem ticket had been issued and the techs had identified the problem. "Great. How long until it is fixed?" "Oh, we don't know that." "Huh?"

Eventually, the representative told me she would check on the ticket for an update and call me back the next day, yesterday. She did just as she said. However, there was still no update, and when I inquired further she confessed that the techs had not really identified the problem, they just acknowledged that there was a problem. She went on to promise to get back to me today.

I'm not sure I can take it anymore, though. How hard could it possibly be to fix this? I mean, two months?? Really? I suppose I could get a land line, but it's just more expensive, and I have to pay for installing a phone that I will only ever use until my cell phone works again. Of course, the question remains - how long will that be.

I know that Sprint is not the greatest. I've had my fair share of issues with them in the past, and I could go ahead and get a new cell phone, with a new company and a new contract. However, in some respects I can't afford to give up my plan. A few years ago I wanted to terminate my Sprint usage. They sent me to their "Retentions Department" - which has since been discontinued, and they gave me the best plan ever. I have been to every carrier, periodically, to ask them if they can match it and they all tell me I'm really lucky and to keep my Sprint account. Plus, I don't have a contract.

T-Mobile seems to have serious issues here when there is a storm, and given that we seem to be getting plenty of them lately, I wouldn't necessarily want to go in that direction. Verizon seems to have the best network around, but they are pricey, and I cannot get their night and weekend minutes to start before 9PM. Whereas, with Sprint, I can get them to start at 6. Six is so much earlier than nine. I even thought of going prepaid, but they nail you on the phone cost.

There really is no great solution.

Pass The Potatoes

"She's getting married."

"Really? That's great. I should call and congratulate her; it's what she's always wanted."

"Err ... you're not supposed to know."

"Oh. Well I guess this means I don't have to get her a gift."

I later related this situation to one of my friends.

"She's what?!"

"Yeah. Isn't that cool?"

"Wow."

"How long have they been dating?"

"I guess 3 or 4 months."

"Wow."

"Good times."

What is the Meaning of This??

"So you're saying I should keep blogging just for you?"

"Now you're getting it."

The problem for me and blogging lately is that more and more of my life is becoming unfit for public consumption. It is difficult to talk about my life and times while still omitting the parts of it that I wish to remain private. This being said, it is also hard for me to begin my emailing crusade to all of my friends again as well. For I don't know exactly where I want to start. For those of you that still might be reading, I do have a couple interesting items to relate:

Last week I received a resume for the receptionist position we are trying to fill *again*. It came complete with a head shot and reassurances that the applicant was presently functioning as president of her own company and had created the online store front for said company. Hmmm.... I decided to investigate. Just as I suspected, it's a porn site. Good times. We could never hire her, though; Christmas parties would never be the same.

I was informed that several students, at the university I teach at, wanted a pro rata rebate of their tuition, to cover classes that were cancelled and never made up as a result of Hurricane Wilma. Now, mind you, I had been told by the University that if I could cover all the material, I did not have to make up the classes. However, the school did not want to have to refund any money and as I hadn't made up one of the classes - I had to hold a make up class, after the students had already completed the final exam, *and* give them an extra credit assignment.

You're kidding. What in the world should I assign? There were so many administrative difficulties, as I knew a number of the students were not going to be able to attend the make up class at all, and some would be out of town until the end of the year. Moreover, the finals were terrible. I mean, simply dreadful. Who knew so many people could not commit a coherent thought to paper?

I decided to assign a volunteer opportunity. Volunteer with one of these charitable organizations (like Habitat for Humanity) before the end of the year, and receive up to an additional 10 points (a full letter grade) on the final exam. It seemed fair. However, I have been getting emails from one student in particular, complaining that this assignment completely exceeds the scope of what I can assign for extra credit.

Oh, and the make up class that I was forced to hold, had a total of one attendee - one of my best students. Ridiculous.

Impact

Blogging has actually made me more private. I look at many of my earlier posts and realize that I used to be much more willing to share the private and more intimate moments of my life with the world at large, when I felt no one was reading or judging me. However, over time, I have learned that throwing all of that out there really is just not for me. The private and intimate things of my life now sit in a written journal in my apartment.

However, I have also found that I have become more private outside the world of blog. Many of the things I normally would have shared with my friends through a weekly email, now go unmentioned, as I do not send out the weekly emails anymore - what with my blogging and all. It is odd to me to think that these friends that normally would have known the status of my life no longer know it, and the reason that they don't know it is so that I can share the less intimate aspects of my life with the general public. However, I started this blog to be a journal - not to share my life with the general public. But the two go hand in hand. You cannot have one without the other - for better or worse.

Someone recently asked the following question to her readers: "What makes you keep on blogging?" As I read through the responses, I started really thinking about the question and I thought, Hell, I have no fucking idea. I blog out of habit. I blog because I have been doing it now for months and it's just become sort of a hobby. It gives me a reason to sit down and write about me and my life (but not all of my life). It gives me a chance to share random tidbits and thoughts with whomever feels like reading about them.

However, I see that my purpose in having a blog has morphed - mostly out of necessity. My blog is no longer a complete journal for me. It is now my forum, to spout off any meaningless drivel I happen to feel is worthy that particular day. It no longer is an effective means of keeping my friends informed on my life, as there are so many aspects of my life that I cannot share through blog. It truly is, more than anything, a hobby that I have kept out of habit - the same way I still catch myself looking at coins, on occasion, after having collected them during my childhood. It is a hobby and an exercise in writing. However, it does not exactly fulfill the goals that I initially began it for. For example, if I were to write an update on my Thanksgiving Holiday, so much would be omitted, as to completely obviate the entire reason to write about the holdiay in the first place.

Frustrating Yet Rewarding

The more I thought about this little news piece I stumbled upon at BoingBoing, the more I couldn't resist posting about it. It almost made me wish I had gone ahead and started my own IT business, almost as much as when I learned that our IT guy, who is probably no older than 21, drives a top of the line Lexus. All those years of studying law, wasted.

My weekend was rather frustrating on certain levels, and rewarding on others. The frustrating part was all Christmas shopping related. I went to about six card stores, and two malls looking for presents before I gave up and went home. Normally, holiday shopping is pretty easy for me and I come up with all sorts of great gift ideas for people. This year does not seem to be going so smoothly and is frustrating me quite a bit so far.

I did, however, take my cell phone in to be looked at, as the ear piece jack has not been working, and I hate talking on my cell phone in the car without my ear piece. It leads to far too many tense situations for everyone involved. In any event, the guy at the store totally hooked me up and I will be getting a new phone very soon for practically nothing - and no I didn't have to sign a contract.

In addition, I saw Harry Potter, started Pride & Prejudice, and got practically everything I need for making a great big Thanksgiving feast - including cranberries. Although, I refuse to brine my turkey, even though I think it would be delicious. It's just too damn hot down here to keep the brine cold long enough for it to take effect. I suppose I could try doing it in a garbage bag and shove the whole concoction in a great big cooler, but I simply am not prepared to unertake such an endeavor. Perhaps next year I will try it.

Road to Recovery

Last night marked the end to my first semester of teaching future paralegals. It was rather anti-climactic. I had finished the bulk of the material the night before in a makeup session that was a bit of a fiasco, for several reasons. To start with, the school never informed my class that we would be meeting in a different classroom. However, even if it had, the room that the school assigned me for the makeup class, belonged to another class. So we were forced to spend one half hour searching for a new classroom, and eventually making friends with a nice cleaning lady who opened one for us.

Last night was mostly just for me to handout their take-home finals, which they have through the 30th to complete. There was quite a bit of nervous energy - much like I am sure there will be at 12:01AM, tonight, when the mighty Harry Potter takes to the silver screen again. I believe I will have to postpone my seeing of the young Potter lad until this weekend, however. As I am to see it with my little brother at a special screening on Saturday morning.

The remainder of my weekend should be fairly dull. I hope to finish Fletch, Too so that I can begin Pride & Prejudice (incidentally, I saw this flick the other night and really liked it), get some shopping done, and get some rest and sun. I really got into reading the Fletch novels because of Kevin Smith. As some of you know, I have somewhat of a man-crush on Kevin. It's not really all that I suppose. I mean, I almost never check the guy's blog and I hardly know what the cat is doing anymore. However, I just think he's one of the coolest writers/directors/producers/actors out there. He always seems to be either turning out a new great film or helping up and coming actors or putting out a new comic or doing something cool. In any event, he is known for his ability to craft dialogue, and he attributes his ability for this to his reading of the Fletch novels. (At one point, his next film was to be based off of a Fletch book and Jason Lee was to play the leading role. Somewhere along the line, this idea died, as did his Green Hornet, I think.) When I learned this, I decided I should try reading a Fletch book or two, as I love good dialogue. I bought every novel in the series that received a 4 or 5 star review on Amazon. So far, I have yet to be disappointed. The books are just so much fun to read.

I bought Pride & Prejudice for several reasons, not the least of which is that you can now get literary classics for about $5. I think this is the coolest thing ever. I can go and buy some of the most loved classics of all time for less than the cost of a lunch. Instead of paying three times as much and trying my luck with some new up and coming author, whose book I may end up hating. After all, one needs something to read in-between David Sedaris novels.

The new decongestant and antihistamine the doctor has me on seems to be doing its job - both in drying out my sinuses, in a slow and steady process (I wish my ear would clear) and in making me rather dizzy (one of its listed side-effects).

My Medicated Weekend

There was one other side effect to me taking prednisone that I had forgotten until this weekend. It makes me really depressed. I could not figure out what the hell was happening until it suddenly occurred to me that the same thing happened when I took it in undergrad. Good times. However, it did probably assist me in managing to sleep no less than 20 hours on Saturday! I don't think I have ever slept that much in my life. Fortunately, my time with prednisone has now come to an end. Although, I still remain rather congested. Not to worry, though, my doctor just called and they are phoning in a prescription for me as we speak. Man being sick is expensive.

My weekend did afford me some waking hours to check out some current events. I personally get annoyed, and this could be the drugs talking, with all this back and forth now about whether certain Congressmen were duped into entering the Iraq war. I cannot help thinking as I listen to it all that I knew there were no weapons of mass destruction before we invaded. How could I possibly be smarter than all of our elected officials now crying foul?

As I recall, the proponents of the war actually began their campaign for battle with the argument that democracy must be brought to the Middle East. Clearly, there was a segment of the population that thought invading Iraq was important even before the idea that weapons of mass destruction may exist over there was advanced with any insistence. However, the initial arguments for invading Iraq did not play tremendously well with the media and did not seem to foster a tremendous amount of public support. Then is was "discovered" that these weapons of mass destruction were over there and we really needed to invade now. This argument seemed to do much better. Americans got scared. Colin Powell even said, and I paraphrase, If we don't get in there now, we are fucked. I just kept thinking, the same people that wanted to go to war in the first place are the same people telling me that there are weapons of mass destruction over there now.

My senseless ramblings are about as political as I get here. If you want real political action, you should go visit Thomas's Blog. It's much more politically enthusiastic.

Disturbing Knowledge

There are certain things that happen in my everyday life that disturb me on one level or another. For example, knowing people that work in the restaurant business who tell me what goes on in the kitchens, or knowing people that cheat on their significant others on a regular basis, especially when I am friends with both parties involved.

However, one of the things that bothers me perhaps the most is just how many people do not wash their hands after using the bathroom. I always feel weird when I leave the men's room and I see the guy that just left a bathroom stall without ever visiting the sink now using those same hands to caress his lover's face, run his fingers through her hair, shake my hand, pass me the salt shaker or a roll, etc. It is disturbing.

I never really thought there were people out there that didn't wash their hands after going to the bathroom. It just made sense to me that people would want to be clean. I mean forget the fact that you just touched yourself in some unmentionable places, and even if you were to assume that your body is somehow strikingly clean and does not sully your hands in the least, what else have you touched that day? Whose hands have you shaken? How much money have you handled that day?

Granted, there are many public restrooms where you just do not want to use their sinks, simply because your hands are likely going to be dirtier after the washing process is completed than before. However, those, to me, are the exceptions to the rule, and even then, there are ways around it - using elbows and paper towels to work the faucets and open the doors.

Compounding all of this is the dilemma of what do you tell the girls you know about the grooming habits of the men they interact with everyday. For example, when your friend says, "I really like him. He's such an amazing guy." You cannot really respond, "Yeah, and he just wiped his ass before he gave you that box of chocolates."

Pick Your Poison

I finally went to the doctor's today.

"I've been sick for a month."
With eyebrow raised, "A month?"
"Yup."
"We're going to have to treat this aggressively because you have had it for so long. It sounds like bronchitis, but may be pneumonia."
Suddenly I had three prescriptions and orders to have a chest x-ray if things don't improve in 4 days. Who needs alcohol when you have prescription medications?

I think another blogger stopped blogging this weekend. It was all rather sudden.

I think I did a little too much reading about the possibility of the bird flu disease breaking out. I figure if the mad cow doesn't get me, I'm bound to get taken out by a chicken. How sad, taken out by one of my favorite things - food. It's almost as bad as getting a debilitating STD. I suppose if you are a very lonely farmer, you could get both at once. Eww.

I am supposed to have at least three dates this week. I am not really looking forward to any of them, however. I just cannot seem to "get into it". I was happy with my last girlfriend and cannot seem to work up my enthusiasm with anything new. I'm too damn picky. I can't help it, though. If I ever lower my standards, I always end up sitting there for the entire night asking, "Why am I here?" and "Will she get mad if I leave?".

I am supposed to start taking prednisone tonight. I am not such a big fan of this medicine ever since I took it in undergrad and had the most miserable hallucinations. However, I would like my head to stop feeling like it's trapped underwater.

This post should probably have an ending, but I'm too medicated and sick to think of one at present.

Home Ownership in Florida

I heard an interesting theory being discussed the other day.

The weather service organizations seem to be telling us that we are in a period during which Florida, and the Southeastern United States, as a whole, will be frequently struck by major hurricanes. This period is predicted to last for approximately another 20 to 30 years.

If you look at real estate values in Florida, the values for property in Miami were very low about 25 years ago, after it had been struck by a series of storms. The bulk of real property appreciation and building in Florida has occurred during the last 25 years. As such, it is possible that mother nature will be the driving force to keep our real property values in Florida lower and more realistic. However, there is the potential that the two or three decades of storms could drive these values below market value, and make them a great investment opportunity. This is good news for young people in Florida who are hoping to one day own their own homes.

Unfortunately, the cost of insuring real property located in Florida now has become ridiculously expensive, and this is likely only going to get worse. In Florida, private insurance companies consider many coastal properties uninsurable. In response, the State created Citizens Property Insurance Corp. to cover wind damage on those high risk properties. Unfortunately, Citizens has its own issues. Its Chief Financial Officer was forced to resign in September over reports that he had been taking kickbacks and two other executives left after it was found that they had been conducting some shady transactions. Moreover, the company was already running a deficit of $516 million from last hurricane season. It was recently recommended that Citizens needs to increase there rates by 80 percent. Ouch.

So while a young person yearning to be a home owner may be able to one day afford the home of his dreams, he may not be able to afford the cost of insuring it.

Back Again

I returned from my adventures as an evacuee early this morning. I think my favorite may have been the day my friend needed to get her car worked on at the Acura dealership and they gave us a TSX as the loaner car. I got to drive it all over the place and test drive it for about half the day. Fantastic. It, of course, was fully loaded, and had XM sattelite radio in it. I was not a big sattellite radio fan until after that day. Later I got to drive her TL around. I think I need an Acura soon.

Of course there were the obligatory nights out, drinks were consumed, someone tried to convince me that I should go home with them while her boyfriend sat outside, oblivious to it all. Of course there was dancing with incredibly fun folks and delicious meals were served. Blind dates were scheduled for me with all the cute girlfriends that aren't dating yet. However, all of this was merely a distraction from the other events occupying my attention.

There is just an insane amount of destruction around here. So many electric poles snapped, and there are trees and fences down throughout my complex. Trees just snapped or got pulled right up at their roots. I was lucky enough to not have any destruction and to get my power back already, but I know there are a ton of people out there that are no where near as lucky. I still have friends that I have been unable to locate since the storm. It's pretty crazy to drive through a city that has no working street lights. For awhile, there were 3 to 5 hour waits to get gas. The waits have gotten a little less, though, as more power has been restored. Fortunately, I decided to stock up on food before I returned so that I shouldn't have to leave my apartment for much this weekend.

So while I was away, I learned something. A Website is holding a contest for America's Hottest College Girl. I love that women are always willing to be seductive and trashy for a camera. I love that men are always suckers for it too. It's days like these I question why I ever went to law school instead of becoming a photographer.

I bought a journal. I think this should solve my ongoing problems with not being able to write everything I want here. I know that I hate my hand written journals because I flow better with a computer sitting in front of me, but I think that with this blog combined with my written journal, I should be able to do a halfway decent job. Even though my handwriting sucks.

An Imposter

You won't believe it, folks, but there is actually another blogger out there impersonating me! Can you believe that? Everyday I think I have seen all the tricks out there and then I go browsing through a comments section and I see that someone is commenting as me! No, they were not nefarious enough to go and steal my password or anything equally underhanded as that. Instead they merely post as me and link to my profile. However, no one but me would really be able to tell that it wasn't me.

I want to know who likes me enough to want to be me. I know I know. I really am an amazing person, and I'm sure there is just a line of people wrapping around the corner somewhere just to get a look at my devilish godlike and spectacular charm. It's a curse.

This really does sort of blow me away, though.

Unexpected Events

Friday night was ridiculous.

I ended up out with a friend at a local dining/drinking establishment, to watch the game, have some dinner, play some pool, and ponder how I ended up being misunderstood for the greater part of the afternoon. Margaritaville came to mind and I knew that by the end of it all, I would blame myself even though I really was not sure what I had done wrong. I have found that when dealing with the opposite sex, it's often best to choose your battles and this was one that I was more than willing to lose. A phone call or two later and things were magically resolved. Great. Rack 'em up.

One of the tables next to us was occupied by a pretty girl and a young guy with tattoos. He dropped a quarter on the table to reserve it for when my partner and I had finished. Cool. Somehow it then occurred to him that he should by my friend and I shots. Why? Why did he buy me shots? Not wanting to offend him, I took the shot. And then my partner willingly handed me hers as she didn't feel like drinking it. I knew things were about to go bad. I just wasn't aware of how bad.

It turns out the pretty girl works in a clinic counseling heroin addicts. Her boyfriend is a former crack addict, two time convicted felon (would have been three, but his attorney got him off - so almost three strikes), is wanted for murder, but he swears he didn't do it, and attempted murder (he admitted he did that). He has titanium rods in his mouth for reconstructive surgery because he assaulted an officer or two in his time, and has a history of resisting arrest. Look at the new friends I made, sweetie. I'm not sure she was pleased. I don't think I have had that much to drink in at least one year. If I hadn't encountered the mysterious stranger and his companion, I wouldn't have done it at all.

The next day I awoke, and only with a very mild hangover. Yeah yeah, I know, with skills like these I should be an alcoholic. If only I enjoyed it more, perhaps I would, but I pretty much got over that. We made breakfast, discussed numerous earth shattering topics like her overwhelming beauty, and prepared for our trip to Octoberfest. My friend tried to lure me with the beer, but I only had eyes for the sausage. We got a late start, she had a hair appointment, so off she went, with a promise to call me later so we could work out plans for the evening. This was the last time I saw her. I don't know where she is or if she's hurt, angry, or anything in-between. I contacted her family to let them know, and they are missing too. Perhaps she really was too good to be true.

Wilma, that attention starved whore, was clearly annoyed that I was wholly preoccupied with another woman, as she came barreling in at a full category higher than she was supposed to be. Off went my power. Down came the trees. A deluge of wind and rain ensued as I stared out and contemplated which event I would consider worse in retrospect. The disappearance of the woman of my dreams, or the absolute unfettered anger of another. As I really couldn't answer that question, I continued reading, and waited for daylight.

I now sit at my friend's house in a distant part of the state. She insisted that I come, and as she had electricity, food, hot water, and the warmth of friendship to offer, I was really in no position to say no.

This weekend has left me pretty displaced and disoriented, but alive nonetheless.

The Waiting Game

There's only one thing worse than impending doom, and that's waiting for said doom. All week, the eyes in my office have been focused on the Southern Atlantic and the Gulf as we ponder when will it hit and how bad will it be. Even before its arrival, the storm has affected lives, with some people unable to now sell their homes (buyer's cannot acquire insurance when a hurricane is imminent), surprise vacations have been thwarted, and getting gas just to get to work and grocery shopping for the week have required a more substantial amount of effort.

Waiting is often hard. Waiting for the results of a test, waiting for that phone call, waiting for dinner to be ready, waiting for Charlize Theron to realize that she actually belongs with me, etc. It's tough stuff. Fortunately, I have had sickness, work, and other people's blogs to occupy my day. Unfortunately, some of my favorites have been absent.

I also have been reading more of Augusten Burroughs. I have to say that Dry is quite different from Running With Scissors. I think I like the former more, but I'm also happy that I struggled my way through the latter as well. The writing style in this one seems different, and definitely not as disturbing to me as the second one.

And then when my blogging pals, books, and other various forms of entertainment could not keep me occupied, I always had the bizarre news stories. For example, did you know that in Oklahoma City this week a man who had worked out a plea bargain of 30 years in prison for shooting someone during the commission of a robbery. Well our evil genius robber, being a fully devoted Celtics fan, requested that his sentence be extended to 33 years, as Larry Bird's jersey number was 33. You can't make this stuff up, folks.

My weekend plans are up in the air as there was going to be a hurricane arriving here smack dab in the middle of it. I am supposed to go to a Halloween party next Saturday so I should probably go and find myself an outfit at some point soon, and I would like to cook something nice and yummy. I would also like to perhaps lose the soar throat, cough, and congestion as well, but I may just be asking for too much there. I hope you all have wonderful weekends.

A Tale of Two Blogs

Yes, it may have actually come to this.

I started a blog long ago in a galaxy far far away. In fact, it was a Livejournal, and almost no one, except my best friend, ever read it. At the time, I was wasting away in the lovely city of Naples (*BLECH*), and needed somewhere that I could vent my frustrations and unhappiness. My friend also felt that maybe I could somehow meet other similarly situated people in my area through this medium. I only really ever wrote one post and quit. I didn't really like the whole Livejournal format and I was not really sure what the hell I wanted to write.

Many moons later, I created the blog you see today. I suddenly had lots to write about and many things to say. I also really enjoyed Blogger's format and the freedom it afforded me. Additionally, anyone could join Blogger. (I believe, at the time, you had to pay for a Livejournal account.) I instantly met people too. None of them lived near me at all, but many of them were so very cool to read and had interesting things to share. It was almost like having daily columns that you like to read in the newspaper.

This past weekend, it seems a lot of my blogging buddies had tumultuous times. There were fights with family and loved ones. One person deleted their blog entirely, another person may have ended their relationship with their partner, and yet another came close. And these are just the items I know about. I, meanwhile, spent the weekend unsuccessfully fighting a miserable cold. Perhaps I truly got off easy on this one.

I try to never make important decisions while battling a fever. As such, I have made no final decisions as to what to do with this blog. However, what I may do is start two blogs. One will be a Livejournal, as it allows me to restrict who can view it, and the other would be a regular Blogger account, which would contain some of the details of my life. Seems like a rather ridiculous measure to take on some levels. However, it may be an ideal solution. I'll know better when I can hear and speak clearly again and my head doesn't feel like it's beneath three feet of water.

I hope most everyone else had pleasant and happy weekends.

Leave of Absence

Why haven't you posted?

Well I've been thinking about this a lot, actually. In fact, while I was feeling it, Stephanie was blogging about it. I'm not really sure what got her to the same point I was, but it was really interesting to read a post that expressed almost exactly what I was feeling.

I have been seriously considering ending my blog as of late. It's nice to be out there, I guess. However, it is concerning to me that a client or a colleague would stumble upon my blog and learn all sorts of intimate details about my life. It is also concerning to me that it may offend someone I know that sees something I write here. I'm really not sure what to do. As some of you may know, this is something I've been struggling with for several months now.

Varying Viewpoints

Perspective is an interesting thing. You could take thirty eye witnesses and they might all have seen something different. They, presumably, are not lying when they relate their personal accounts of what happened. The simple truth is that seeing something with your own eyes can sometimes be deceiving. Meanwhile, a person may be utterly convinced that their version of what happened is correct and be willing to defend it until their dying breath. At the end of the day, so many of the truths we cling to come down to perception.

It is always interesting to sit back and reflect on the person that we were and what urges and vices drove us during different periods of our life. Self-assessment, like sunlight on the parts of our lives that are rarely afforded any exposure to light, can be extremely beneficial, and at times chilling. Much like a climber that reaches some sort of climax, and stops to survey the distance he has transversed. He is now intimately familiar with so many aspects of the rock face that most would not notice. Now and again you arrive at really cool points in therapy and in life where you realize that you actually are not as far off as you perhaps initially presumed you might be, and that all the work that you have been doing to date was in fact not as insignificant as a pail of water on a raging forest fire.

What is more striking is how much of our view is shaped by our own powers of assessment and our own ability to be honest with ourselves about what happened. The person that denies for thirty years that abuse ever occurred will possibly be able to carry through their entire life with an entirely different slant on what is truth and what is reality than the person that is able to surpass their own denial. The funny part is that no matter what your perspective is, no matter what path you choose in climbing your mountain, it's always right, or at least it is to you.

These past weeks have been extremely eye opening to me about so many things from my past. Some things were just more reassessments or retracings of places I have already been, and some of it has been covering entirely new ground. Because of the possibility that some of the people that my realizations relate to may one day actually read this foolish thing, and they might find what I have to say to be offensive, I feel that I cannot really write here about the specifics. What I can say is that you can look back at entire segments of your life with a new found understanding as to what the hell you were doing. Of course your new perspective could be totally wrong, but when it makes so many parts of your life line up and make sense, you begin to trust that you have in fact found that missing piece to the puzzle.

Notes

When I stop loving jazz, I know something is wrong in my life. When the smooth sounds of Duke, Armstrong, and Marsalis do not provide relief, and Coltrane, Corea, and Davis only bring discomfort, I know things have gotten pretty bad. If the crooning of Harry, Ella, and Jane fail to placate and satiate my desires, it is indeed bleak. (Ok, it's really not that bad at all, and I'm just being dramatic, but it adds to the effect.)

I spent much of my youth abhorring jazz, and confining my music selections to the likes of Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Vivaldi, Brahms, Bach, etc. Jazz was something my mother would force me to listen to, often to lull me to sleep. I never understood what happiness or pleasure she derived from this odd musical form. The only jazz I liked was swing (and it's still my favorite). The rest was all a waste. Fortunately, the musicians and record industry did not listen to my admonishments, and continued to plug away for all those weird people out there that still liked this crazy thing we call jazz.

Music, in all of its forms, is such an interesting art form, and one to which I happily devoted a substantial portion of my youth. It has the power to influence moods and set the tone for an event, a drive, or an evening. However, one's mood can also effect the music that is selected. For example, I had a friend in school who would listen to Sarah McLaughlin when she was feeling sad. Others might play the theme to Rocky, or some other motivational type of music when they feel defeated. Irrespective of taste, the average person is likely to have more interaction with this art form than any other.

There are certain times in my life where particular musicians, songs, or styles simply cannot touch me. Times where I need to stay away from them because I'm not feeling it. The songs are not lifting me and the notes are not touching me. Fortunately, these times are short lived, and I always end up ... singin' with a swing.

Weekend Called on Account of Rain

The best part of my weekend was Friday night when I was at my friend's house. We started going through her volumes of pictures. Eventually, we got her yearbooks out, which she evidently annotates. I'd never seen (or created) an annotated yearbook, with "BFF" and "GFF" and markings as to who was who throughout a yearbook. Maybe this is because I am a boy. I have to say, however, that this adds so much to a yearbook after years. Even your friends who never attended your school can have fun piecing it all together. At one point, I asked my friend who this one girl in her yearbook was and she got all upset. Evidently, this was the girl that had been her best friend in high school, but who had destroyed that bond by fucking her boyfriend. Good times.

Eventually, more people showed up. The cast of characters included a young woman with huge breast impants and very low cut dress. I was warned going in - "Don't stare at her breasts." I tried to explain that it wouldn't be a problem, as I'm used to women with fake everything - I did live in Miami. "You don't understand. You will try not to look, but you cannot help it. I can't even help it and I'm a girl." She was right. The funny part was that they weren't even that great, but you just couldn't help it because they were almost falling out of the dress. You literally felt that if she turned the wrong way, they could spill out. She had even asked her fiancee as they left their house, "Is my nipple hanging out?"

I ended up passing out by about 11:30, and my friends kept drinking until 2. I just can't drink the way I used to anymore. There go my dreams of alcoholism.

I was supposed to go out on a yacht in Naples with another friend on Saturday, but as soon as I got to Naples, it started to pour. So I went home that night, spending some of my leftover weekend reading some more of Augusten Burrough's Running with Scissors. Wow. I don't think my childhood was anywhere near as messed up as his. I still cannot see the humor in most of his tales. They seem so depressing. Perhaps if they were fictional they could be charterised as funny, but as soon as I think of the fact that these things really happened to someone, it just boggles my mind.

I hope your weekend was drier than mine.

Tic Tock

One of my favorite scenes is from My Cousin Vinny.

Mona Lisa: Well I hate to bring it up because I know you've got enough pressure on you already. But, we agreed to get married as soon as you won your first case. Meanwhile, ten years later, my niece, the daughter of my sister is getting married. My biological clock is ticking like this and the way this case is going, I ain't never getting married.

Vinny: Lisa, I don't need this. I swear to God, I do not need this right now, okay? I've got a judge that's just aching to throw me in jail. An idiot who wants to fight me for two hundred dollars. Slaughtered pigs. Giant loud whistles. I ain't slept in five days. I got no money, a dress code problem, and a little murder case which, in the balance, holds the lives of two innocent kids. Not to mention your biological clock - my career, your life, our marriage, and let me see, what else can we pile on? Is there any more shit we can pile on to the to of the outcome of this case? Is it possible?

Mona Lisa: Maybe it was a bad time to bring it up.

Ever since college, every woman I have met has seemed to have some sort of "biological clock" issue; some desire to mate, have children and settle down before it is "too late". For some of these women this desire to procreate is the sole driving force behind them finding a man and getting married, not even caring who the man is at the end of the day so long as everything is in working order. However, for the life of me, I have never really understood this. In fact, not many men I know do. Perhaps it's because of the way we are raised, or maybe it's brain chemistry. One of my friends has suggested that it is because men can reproduce well into our sixties, and so it doesn't matter as much to us. (There's a quote to the effect in When Harry Met Sally, but it presently escapes me.)

Most men I know who are getting married or have gotten married never expressed any desire to settle down and have kids soon, before it becomes "too late". Generally, they describe marriage as something that they do or did to make her happy. It wasn't that they didn't want to get married. It's not that they do or did not love the woman that they are marrying or that they are married to. It simply was not as pressing of an issue to them as it was to her.

I went to a cocktail reception last night for estate and financial planners, and realtors. Quite a lively bunch, let me tell you. All I kept getting asked was, "So are you married?" and "Do you have any kids?" Where are all the young people in this profession? I felt like what a woman must feel when she attends a family reunion, only to be interrogated by her friends and loved ones about why she isn't married yet, and when is she going to have children.

Digging in The Dirt

It sounded like the dumbest assignment I had ever heard in my life. "I want you to make a chart or a list of every woman you have ever been involved with, and list what propelled (attracted) you to them, and then what repelled you away from them." What a ridiculous assignment. I had different reasons for liking and leaving every one of them. It would be a complete waste of my time to go ahead and list all of them like that. However, I thought the same thing when she told me I had commitment issues, and I am paying for this advice, I might as well try it.

After I was about three quarters of the way through the list, I became disturbed. There were a lot more things all of these women had in common at the end of the day than I had ever noticed. Every one of these women had commitment issues at least equal to my own. Many of them only seemed to ever have long distance boyfriends. Many had troubled relationships with their fathers. All of them seemed to have trouble expressing and showing love, and opening up to me. I was getting into relationships that were doomed to fail; still playing the unloved victim role I had learned so well from my childhood. I couldn't help feeling slightly defeated. How far had I really come on this journey of my life, and how much further did I have to go?

"We need to explore your childhood, and the pain and emotions that you experienced in it. Not just the broad strokes, but individual occurrences." I was blank. My childhood? Yeah, I had one of those ... I think. Are we supposed to be able to remember all of that? I remembered everything from high-school (just about the time I stopped seeing my father) onward rather vividly. However, I just remembered vague things about my childhood - the yelling, the beatings, the alcohol, the drugs, and all the madness that was sure to ensue. However, I remembered much of it in the abstract. Reading Augusten's description of his childhood has sounded all too familiar in certain areas.

Slowly, almost like carrying out an excavation, memories have surfaced, and have been carefully brushed off, only to reveal more memories. Scattered and fragmented is my childhood. A sea of memories and emotions that I thought were but a series of unfortunate events best left in the past, have been wreaking havoc on my present. Attracting me to other fundamentally flawed individuals, perhaps out of a subconscious recognition of their similarities to my parents.

The Week Ends. The Week Begins.

So there is some good news to report (other than the Patriots illustrious victory over the Steelers) - no one I knew from Houston died this weekend. Although, I did have my doubts about whether they could withstand that much alcohol for such an extened period of time. Fortunately, they came through like champs. Hopefully, their livers did too.

I spent the majority of my weekend reading, watching movies, and trying to get a solid handle on my life and its direction. All this while avoiding phone calls from random girls I had no desire to speak with and roasting a chicken with a delicious lemon, honey, mango, garlic paste. Quite yummy.

I saw The Corpse Bride and Flightplan. Both decent flicks, but I'm not sure I would ever watch either of them again. Maybe I just don't like Tim Buton's animated classics. It was rather disappointing to me, however, because I had such high hopes. Somewhere in the middle of The Corpse Bride I realized that I had never liked Nightmare Before Christamas either. In fact the only reason I ever thought that I liked it was because it made my ex so happy. So I would find her things with characters from the movie on them to make her smile. Her smiling made me happy. Somehow I associated my liking her smile with the movie.... Very Pavlovian of me. Did someone hear a bell?

My reading would likely not have been very entertaining to most of you. I learned about the relocation of trust situs for state income tax purposes and for governing law purposes. You think that sounds like fun? Wait until I tell you about the articles about Internal Revenue Code section 4958 and intermediate sanctions for tax exempt organizations. (I read the tax exempt articles because I'm trying to help my friend author an article on the subject.) Ok, so I'm a nerd, but I'm a fun nerd. Oh, and I have started in on two Augusten Burroughs novels. Someone named Shane, commented awhile back that if I liked David Sedaris, I should try Augusten. So far I like him. His writings haven't struck that same funny bone in me that David strikes, but he is enjoyable. I'll know better once I get farther into them.

This upcoming weekend, I am supposed to go to Naples with my friend. She says we are going out on a 50 foot yacht. I can't really say no to that. I'm really starting to think I need a digital camera just to chronicle my upcoming weekend. Wherever there is a 50 foot yacht, fun is sure to follow ... and dolphins.

Hurricane Preparedness

"Are they crazy? Do they not understand there is a fucking hurricane coming? Do I just know better because I have lived through one now?"

These were the words of my friend that went through Charley last year, after I told her of folks I know in Houston and the surrounding areas that are staying for the wet and wild fun of Rita. What many people don't know about Charley is that it was a very small Category 5 hurricane. Powerful in force, but small in circumference. The other thing that many people do not know is it was supposed to strike Tampa, 90 miles north of where it actually ended up hitting. Hurricanes often do not hit where they are predicted to make landfall. For example, Andrew was not supposed to hit South Florida.

I was in Punta Gorda a few days following Charley, and the destruction was impressive. An entire electrical system, annihilated. Buildings, signs, trees, things that had been there for years were just gone, and would not be back for a long time to come, if ever. One of my friends lost her new house on her birthday. Happy birthday. My vocal friend from last night, lost a good portion of her house. However, the destruction from Charley was not limited to the one city. 60 miles south, in Naples, there were extensive power outages as well.

A hurricane seems to be one of those things that a lot of people simply do not understand until they live through one. It is not some rough weather. It is not just a rainy and windy day. It is something that can rip apart not only buildings and structures, but families, friends, and loved ones, as well, with no conscious or regret. My friends that survived Andrew knew people that they never heard from again.

After Katrina, I thought all of this would go without saying; that it would be clear to everyone that any storm capable of wreaking havoc and destruction through at least three states is not something you simply laugh in the face of. However, from what I am hearing, I may be mistaken.
To everyone in the Houston, Texas area, I wish you the best of luck, and I advise you now to get as far away from the possible storm track of Rita as possible. Worst case scenario, you get a nice vacation out of a storm that never came.

Faceless Strangers

They sit there quietly peering into my world. At times, I feel a little unnerved by the entire concept. There are people out there reading my blog on a constant basis, and I do not know who they are. I'm not just talking about the casual surfer that happens to stop by for a gander. I'm talking about my repeaters. The people that just cannot seem to get enough of whatever drivel I seem to be spouting for the day, but who never actually leave any trace of their presence. Who are these people, and what is their profound fascination with my life?

Through a series of linking, as I followed someone else's recent path through my blog, yes I can do that, and no, it's not as exciting as it sounds, I was reminded of random commenters that sprouted out of the woodwork when I broke up with my ex. Then just as suddenly, they all disappeared, or did they? Are they there still, merely lurking in the shadows, awaiting a new opportunity to voice their profound opinion?

Lurking and shadowy figures are the types of people you were taught to avoid as a child. Growing up, one never really thinks that they will become one of those people. The type of person you would move to the other side of the street from on your way home. You do not expect to become *that* person. The one that everyone quietly whispers about after they have passed. Yet, I know there are people out there watching my blog and my life with great interest, and they have become, in my world, exactly that.

Missing Pieces

"It's never going to work."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't have fake friends. You've never had fake friends. You're close to your friends, and you'll just wind up getting hurt if you try being friends with her. She didn't make time for you before, why would she make time for you now?"

"Humph."

"Don't get mad because you know I'm right. Now when are you coming to visit?"

That's how my conversations with my friends go, as I afford them carte blanche to say anything and everything about my life and my personal decisions. I do not always agree with what they have to say, but I always give them liberal space to run amok, as I respect their opinions. It is not always a two-way street, however. I, at times, will encounter enormous resistance to my equally straight forward advice, but sometimes that is part of friendship. Acknowledging the strengths and short comings of the person you are friends with and being willing and able to accept them.

The sheer geography that my friends cover is rather impressive. People mention a state, or sometimes a country, and I seem to know someone there or have a friend there. However, when I am forced to look closer to home, I lack those friends. My close circle of friends has migrated to bigger and better places, for bigger and better things. Some have remianed. They are around, but busy and otherwise occupied with marital strife, enormously demanding jobs, and complex relationships. It's the one thing I find lacking in the place I live, and the thing that I feel more pronounced when I am bored, with nothing to do. It's at those times that I truly consider moving somewhere that I already have friends. However, I always remember that I had no friends in Florida when I moved here, and after a few years I had more than I knew what to do with.

Maybe that is part of the problem in always demanding close and lasting friendships - you don't make as many superficial ones that you can leave mangled at the side of the road. You expect more and you'd rather have none than the ready-made type that comes out of a box and never looks as good as it did on the cover. However, the ones you do make, often end up lasting much longer.

It all started in law school:

"I've been thinking. We're really cool people."

"Ok."

"Well we do not have a lot of free time. We are very busy, and there are lots of people that would like to hang out with us. However, we should be more particular about who we hang out with. As really cool people, with limited time, we should only hang out with other cool people. We need to make a list." She wasn't kidding.

"Will I be on your list?"

"Not if you keep asking questions like that."

Busy Bee

Somehow my week has been very full, and I am already exhausted enough for it to be a Friday. I got to see my little brother yesterday, though, and that was a lot of fun. I got an email from my.... Gosh I'm not sure what she is. I guess she's like a coordinator. She emailed me a couple of days ago and told me that they had obtained an extension on complying with the new guidelines. I felt kind of bad for my little brother, though, because I'm not sure anyone really explained to him why I couldn't see him last week. In any event, we had lots of fun finishing the puzzle we had begun two weeks ago and playing Connect Four together with other various games. I even stayed an extra half-hour, until his mom showed up. He got mad at her again for coming to get him because he always ends up wanting to spend more time with me. Very cool.

Tonight I am heading over to teach another class, which will take me 'til about 10 tonight. I'll arrive home and get to bed by 11, only so that I can wake up and leave my apartment by 6:30 to get to Miami for my seminar that lasts until 3:45, and I need to be back by 6:00 for an appointment. I'm tired just thinking about it. I would have attended the seminar in a different location later next month, but this is the closest one being offered live, and I really prefer the live ones to the pre-recorded ones - especially if I have questions for the speakers.

Friday looks fairly action packed as well, with plenty of appointments during the day to keep me hopping. However, it can't be too bad, as it is a Friday, and no matter how bleak it looks, a Saturday is sure to follow.

My free time has been spent investigating the wondrous iPod nano. It looks awesome. The only bad thing that I have heard about it so far is that the company designed it with the headphone jack on the bottom of the system. Weird. I still think it looks really cool, though. Plus, it comes in black.

I've been trying to decide for weeks now between a digital camera or an iPod. I really feel that I should have one or the other. However, I can never make up my mind. I love the concept of an iPod, but I question when I would find the time to listen to it consistently. While at the same time, I long for a digital camera, but feel that none of my friends would appreciate being captured and placed on my blog in living color. Heck, I don't even use their names, to protect the innocent. My feeling is that I should probably get one or the other, though, even if just for my upcoming trips, which I *still* have not finalized!

That's about all I have time for folks. Sorry it's nothing very interesting or introspective. However, people were harassing me to post, and it is my life to date.

Swinging Single

I decided I was tired of dating this weekend. I just couldn't stomach it anymore. I couldn't deal with any more women asking me for commitment and getting jealous and clingy when I told them no. I didn't want to deal with it. I got tired of the casual flings and the meaningless physical encounters, of the zero intellect and complete void of personality, culture, and class. So I quit.

It was really quite liberating, actually. To no longer care, or have to explain yourself anymore. No longer having to invent reasons to yourself for why you are bothering to spend your time with these people at all. I don't have a lot of time, and I really do not see the point in spending the marginal amount I do have with people that I would not hang out with in everyday life. Instead, I saw my friends, played pool, went to the gym, watched football, made delectable delights, and enjoyed my life.

Saturday I summoned all my resources to make a Wellness Package for my friend. Looking through recipe books and eventually driving all around the area to locate the essential components: her favorite soup, good books, quality DVD's, a card (because without the card the person may think you're thoughtless), and a great bag on which you can emblazon the title "Bag of Wellness".

It was my project. It was finally doing something for someone that I actually care about, rather than all the meaningless people I have been sacrificing my time and energy for, and it felt good. Good to finally have someone you care about acknowledge and appreciate your efforts. That's when it clicked. That's when I was done. I need better.

Deal With It

I was speaking to someone about relationships the other day. She actually specializes in relationships and that kind of stuff. People that study human behavior and the manifestations of human emotions and impulses really intrigue me. I often wonder what more they see in the world and in people's behaviors than maybe I do - sort of the same way I might see more legal things in the world around me than she might. We ended up discussing this recurring theme I have been hearing from several women in relationships as of late - "It's not supposed to be hard." We both agreed that this is really not a realistic perspective. Relationships are not like the movies. They involve work and can be challenging in balancing the nuances of two people's lives and emotions.

It, of course, is individual; some relationships really are terrible, and should be ended. However, a lot of the relationship problems I have been seeing, as of late, stem from people that have issues that they refuse to contend with and from people that refuse to put forth any real effort in the relationship. A complete and total belief that if they just put their heads in the sand, it will be ok. After all, relationships should work like they do in the moves, conflict with total resolution within two hours. There's always the excuse, "I'll deal with it later, when there is less going on." Somehow the relationship, that at one point was extremely important to you, has taken the back seat to your career, job, friends, and the rest of your life. It's a great way of avoiding because life happens and there's always something you can find that's more important. There's also the one where you blame the other person for everything wrong with the relationship, but a relationship is two people, never just one.

Relationships are work. Deal with it. The concept is that you are with a person that you care about enough to put forth that amount of effort and energy.

My Labor (or lack thereof) Day Weekend

My Labor Day Weekend was action packed. Well, sort of.

It started out with my friend and I driving up to Orlando to celebrate another friend's 30th birthday. However, by the time we showed up, the party was over and almost everyone had gone home. We hung out for awhile and played various video games, and short clips from here. Eventually, just when I thought I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, everyone decided it was time for bed and I collapsed from exhaustion, only to awake a few hours later, as my internal clock oftentimes has difficulty discerning weekends.

Saturday was a total white trash day. There's no other way to describe a day that starts off with your friends deciding to go play video games in the world's largest McDonald's and ends with shopping at Wal*Mart. Good times. I couldn't believe the McDonald's restaurant. It has showcases of its foods, which include pasta dishes, wraps and all sort of things that you would never expect to see at a McDonald's. Weird.

Somewhere during the course of the day, I learned that I am not allowed to volunteer with Big Brothers Big Sisters until the organization and the school board figure out whether the school board needs to perform its own independent background check on me. Apparently, some worker in a school hurt or killed a girl recently and so there are new restrictions regarding who can be allowed access onto school property. I have no problem with this, but I really wish they could have worked this out at some point during the past month, before the school year started, and before I met my little brother. I also think my Bar admissions should be sufficient, as I do not think the Bar would allow a felon to be a member.

I came back on a very late night drive, arriving home at about 2 in the morning on Sunday, and again, collapsed from exhaustion. I finally managed to wake up sometime around noon so that I could drag my ass to the gym, and get my heart working again. Had a rather routine night, I guess and eventually wound up in my own bed.

Monday is where things get somewhat remarkable. Well, remarkable for me, but likely not anyone else. It started out like any other day, I went to the gym, got some groceries, managed to easily suppress my high hopes of reading the remainder of the research that was sent to me by my friend about charitable organizations, and was wandering about my apartment when I noticed my ex was instant messaging me. This wasn't totally out of the ordinary, as we have been known to do this on occasion, as of late. All part of our attempt to enter this brave new world of friendship after romance. There has to be a pill you could take for it, maybe a mixture of amnesia, combined with some good old fashioned denial, and a side of avoidance, but until such a thing is invented, I'm left to my own devices.

In any event, she got together with a mutual friend and me for dinner. It was really cool, though. It ended up lasting about three hours for her and I because she and I both arrived excessively early, but for different reasons, and stayed after our friend had gone home. The best part about the evening was that we were having fun together again. We were joking and smiling and hugging and laughing and were happy together again, and that was probably the coolest part of the evening. We had always been such great friends and losing that had sucked a lot so I'm hopeful that we will at least eke a friendship out of this mess. However, it's early yet, and I'm sure all kinds of things could go wrong in the process, but at least it's a start, and that is something.

I also realized, as I was with her, how much I have learned about myself through therapy in the last few months that I have spent working on me. It was really interesting to approach her, me, and our interactions with a different and fresher perspective. I'm still not sure what to make of it. It felt different, but familiar.

And that was my weekend.

Where Is The Relief?

I haven't been watching any news reports about Hurricane Katrina's aftermath. It's not hard to avoid them when you have so many other things going on in your life, and Comedy Central and The Food Network to pass the time with. Besides, I had assumed that relief efforts were underway and everyone was being taken care of, just like when there's a disaster anywhere. I mean September 11th happened with no warning, and we still had organized relief efforts underway and coordinated operations happening within hours.

Last night, I was listening to NPR, and I started hearing about how terrible the situation seemed in New Orleans. However, the program I was listening to was Marketplace, and it was focusing more on the economic impact of the disaster than anything else. Later last night, I started watching Dateline. It wasn't even on purpose. I simply was too lazy to walk across the room to find my remote and change the channel.

I was so mad.

This is ridiculous. Our Congress sat on its collective hands as the knew a Category 4 storm was bearing down on our country. It had hit Florida a scant two or three days before as a Category 1 storm and had left over a million people without electricity, some for days. How could our elected officials not have believed that things were going to be worse in the areas hit by Katrina as a fully grown Category 4? Why couldn't they think like smart people would, gotten up off their asses, and gotten back to Washington so they could appropriate funding for disaster relief, and work with the President to mobilize troops and agencies to coordinate a relief effort.

Granted, there was no way to determine *exactly* what would be needed until after it had hit. However, New Orleans, in cooperation with the Army Corp of Engineers had rehearsed for a storm like this one just a year or two earlier. Besides, certain items you know will be needed, like water, food, clothing, toilet paper, shelter, etc. The barest of essentials will be needed. It's not like this is the first relief effort we have ever undertaken.

Some of you might tell me, "They can't get the supplies in." To which I respond, "Bullshit. If you can get bus loads of people out of an area, you can get bus loads of supplies into and area. Hell we can get supplies to Iraq, Afghanistan, and even our damn space station. You cannot tell me we cannot get them into New Orleans. How many days did it take them to call up the National Guard? Why?

Why are we letting the bureaucrats fight over who should and who should not have the authority? Why doesn't our Commander-in-Chief appoint someone to headup the relief effort and let him run it? Hand it off to someone that has been trained to lead and command in a disaster area - perhaps a general (Colin Powell comes to mind) who can bring some sort of order to this mess.

I wrote my Senators, voicing my outrage. I got angry, as I watched our fellow Americans being left to die from lack of food and water. Private industry were mobilizing in the days following Katrina. Companies were donating money, offering their assistance, setting up Web pages and all kinds of things. Entertainers and networks were scheduling dates for concerts to help raise money for the relief effort. However, no one in our federal government was doing anything. Why was I having to write these people, my elected officials, to get them to do their jobs?

I feel completely let down by my government. Don't forget all the places out there trying to help and accepting donations. Give if you can afford to, but even if you can't, lend your voice to your fellow Americans.

Hurricane Relief

As I have mentioned before, I love Boing Boing. As of late, they have been doing an excellent job at keeping everyone up to date on different efforts people are undertaking to assist in providing hurricane relief. I even learned that some people are trying to work with Google Earth to get image overlays of the flooding, in an effort to assist people with determining how bad the flooding is in their neighborhood. I thought that was a really novel idea.

There is also a link on Boing Boing that assists you in finding ways to help. I have outlined some below, in case you don't want to scroll through the whole post. One of the main ways of helping that seems to be emphasized is donating money. However, various volunteer opportunities can also be found.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4823690

this is a link to an NPR site, which lists a bunch of places where you can donate or volunteer.

http://katrinahelp.info/wiki/index.php/Main_Page

this site gives more current information about what is going on and how to help.

http://www.volunteermatch.org/volunteers/resources/hurricane.jsp

helps you find places to volunteer.

http://writerscafe.net/donations.html

a relief fund.

http://neworleans.craigslist.org/about/help/katrina_cl.html

Craig's List is helping reunite family members and friends and helping people find housing and volunteer opportunities.

The Boing Boing link at the top contains all these links and more, in case you feel the need.

Take Two

Yesterday, I went and finally met my little brother, Cody. He's a really cool kid, and he is a lot smarter than a lot of their other enrolled students, I guess. He, evidently, is also a whiz at math. So every week now, I'll go to his school and we'll hang out, talk, and play games for an hour or so. Good times.

I got spammed again, on the same subject as the last one, and by the same person. Whether the person, at the end of the day is that Chris person or someone else, I still do not know. What I do know is their ISP (unless they are masking behind someone else's). So I have been attempting to contact and report the abuse for quite some time now, but have not been having tremendous success. So I finally decided to phone the ISP today and it is now trying to determine exactly what it can do about my little spammer. If that fails, I'll call my friend to have her look up the ISP's legal counsel. She presently works at a firm where one of their projects has been legally attacking spammers, always a good friend to have around.

Today, I teach my second class. I hope it goes as well as last week's. I think the administrative aspects of teaching the class have been a little more daunting than the class itself - having to get handouts over to the school several days in advance so that they can be ready for class; getting room assignments for my class and my make-up class; parking; payroll; obtaining my materials; and all the rest of the gobbly-gook. However, I envision the class getting more complicated as we move on into the trickery areas of the subject and exams become ever more impending.

It's been awhile ...

I know folks - I haven't updated in quite awhile. I just have been absolutely swamped with work and life. I will attempt to cover the high points. ("Let me explain. No, there is too much; let me sum up.")

I obtained a second job almost by accident. I had wanted to volunteer my time and help out at a local university. They have a very respected paralegal program and had been forced to fire the attorney that had been teaching their legal research class half-way through. The terminated professor was, apparently, not the best teacher, and a lot of his students were hopelessly lost. I figured they may need extra help to catch the students up to where they should be. This somehow ended up landing me an interview for the wills, trusts, and estates professorship. Within minutes of beginning the interview, I was hired. I had my first class this week and it went quite well. That's right, I'm Professor J now. :-)

In-between handling all of the administrative stuff associated with the new job and preparing lesson plans, I also had my law firm job and social life. Plus my close friend from undergrad unexpectedly came into town last week. We went out to the beach for drinks and fun over the weekend. Our new friend, the bartender, made us the strongest long island iced teas I've had in a long time, which was very cool. A few days later we went out to enjoy some pool and cocktails and to discuss relationships. I'm not sure such delicate matters should be discussed amongst certain friends under the influence of alcohol, but I am pretty sure our friendship endured the madness that ensued.

The day my friend left town, Katrina rolled in with great pomp and circumstance. Fortunately, she turned south, and my neighborhood avoided any major storm damage. However, just 20 miles south of me, people lost their electricity, and injuries and chaos ensued. Further south, things were even worse. I feel really bad for everyone that was affected by the storm. However, I am really happy that I was not one of them. In fact, Katrina was good to me. It got me out of work early on Thursday, as our building was locked up at three in the afternoon, and we closed the office for all of today as well.

At first, I had high hopes of just sitting at the pool and enjoying my day off, but then I started attending to household chores, laundry, dishes, ironing, shopping for household items and such, and suddenly my day was spent. However, it was all very needed and I am really glad I got the chance to get all of it out of the way. Hopefully, I will be able to use the weekend to accomplish a lot of work, for my jobs and for a new article a couple of my friends and I hope to write soon.

It's not a very glamorous excuse for being absent for so long. In fact, aside from the nights of drinking with my friend, it all seems rather boring, but trust me, I have been anything but bored.

Misplaced Passion

I never knew blogging had an underworld. I never knew it had inner workings, with big players and minor players and a life all its own. I am often amazed at the systems at play around me of which I go completely unaware. For example, when I learned that Miami Beach was largely owned by the Russian Mafia, or when I learn the forces at play with respect to a particular piece of legislation, performer, drug, celebrity, etc. When I learned from reading numerous psychology articles that women with an abusive or absentee father figure in their lives are more apt to become strippers or have emotional difficulties with their sexuality and relationships. The inner-workings of people, and the systems, images, and cycles that we create at times amuse me, and at others, disgust me.

Some of these inner workings, I will never fully know or understand, which is fine. The bare glimpses I get are usually enough for me to realize that it's not my area and that it is time for me to shuffle back to the things in life that are my area; to change and improve myself and the things in my life that I have control over, and the rest is simply better left up to someone else.

Today I, among others, was actually spammed by a blogger who so pationately dislikes another blogger that they felt I needed to know about it. Are you kidding me? You are telling me that you wasted your fervor and anger and passion on something so trivial as sending me an unsolicited email railing against the injustice of certain people getting book deals and television shows. Could you not have found a more productive way to spend your time? Perhaps you could have written to your Congressman about the atrocities occurring in the Sudan, or in our own inner cities, about the environment, your position on Iraq, your ideas on school prayer, same sex marriage, child abuse, minimum wage laws, Walmart's stance on labor unions (which is actually quite close to the position of the fast food industry), our education system, etc. Instead, this person took their time to draft an *extensive* piece complaining about PR and expressing their view that Stephanie Klein simply repackages and resells the image of Sex and the City, and that she is fake and does things all just for image.

I could not believe it. This person had struck gold in their mind - celebrities have publicists and PR people and they do things all for image and to package and market themselves. Somehow this has blown their mind. This is their battle. Their war. The thing that they are most passionate about - trying to bring the "truth" to light about a person with a blog. How about trying to bring the truth to light about the next potential Supreme Court Justice. It is much more likely that this will impact your life more than a woman with a blog, a book deal, and a television show ever will.

Boring

I was emailing my friend the other day in an attempt to coordinate plans for this weekend. She asked what we had in mind. To which I responded, "We don't have anything planned really. Maybe dinner and pool or whatever. Nothing too big. We're boring people by nature I think."

It was after writing this email and considering it for awhile yesterday that I realized, my life really is rather boring. Aside from random losses of my wallet and relationships and such, I don't really have a ton of excitement in my life. I don't party too much anymore. I work, go to the gym, watch some television, talk with friends, and fall asleep. On the weekends, I omit the work usually, and occassionally add some alcohol content and cooking to lighten the mood. Sometimes, I'll have big adventures, and I frequently travel about the state of Florida visiting friends, but I am not sure that I would be classified as Mr. Excitement.

I don't live the rock star lifestyle. I don't go to the posh restaurants, buy the designer labels, or frequent trendy destinations. I don't hookup with bloggers who are hooking up with other bloggers and create weird blogging love triangles. I don't have crazy sex parties with strippers or do drugs.

Some of my friends think I am too intellectual (or geeky), as I can discuss tax issues with my friends from The Tax Program for hours, and I actually derive fun from academic exercises, like writing articles or helping my friends with complicated legal issues. However, most of my friends that know me better would tell you this really is not the case, and that I often only do those things for the mental challenge, or to help a friend.

I'm a boring attorney. The thing I realized, though, is that I'm pretty happy about it. Don't get me wrong, I can party with the best of them, but I'll often take the cool jazz club over the loud sloppy dance party or the next big rave; often selecting the quiet spots, those undiscovered treasures where I can sit on the stool and everyone knows my name over the messy free-for-alls where anonymity is often the status quo. My hats off to the people that can keep all of the extracurricular activities going and without collapsing or cause any physical harm to themselves or others. I'll settle for my quiet spot on a beach in a hammock, with a drink in my hand, and a song in my heart.

Lost and Found

In an attempt to show some solidarity with her during her time of need, I proceeded to lose my wallet. Not realizing my act of selflessness until the next morning, I spent the night trying to find a way to empathize with her situation and distract her from the panic that had taken hold. It would be ok, everything would work out. However, I had never lost my wallet before and it was difficult for me to relate. The morning ushered in a new found appreciation for her situation.

Not only had I lost my credit cards, and driver's license, but my car registration, and social security card as well - necessitating me to contact the credit bureaus to report a fraud alert, and beginning the process of determining how to obtain a new social security card. My only happiness came from the fact that I had acquired a new passport a few months back in anticipation of some overseas trips my ex and I had planned.

I called the Cold Stone Creamery I was at the night before, the one with one of the best staffs I have ever met. (They have a team that is just so high energy and fun, it makes the experience even more fun, which may be hard to imagine.) They did not have my wallet. I left my name and number. While I remained hopeful that Cold Stone would come through for me in this pinch, I weighed my options as far as driving, and determining how long it would take me to get replacements for my documents, and I cancelled all of my bank cards. The image of getting a speeding ticket in this situation, and the reaction of the officer to my answer when he asked for my license and registration was running through my head in a dramatic, yet comedic, loop.

I spent the night in reasonably good spirits. I maintained some fading hope that my wallet would turn up, and awoke to meet the challenge of convincing my bank that they really did not need two forms of I.D. to provide me with cash, as I only had my passport. Fortunately, no questions were asked and my money was simply handed to me so that I could purchase food and overpriced gas for the week.

Upon my return to my apartment, weighed down with groceries, I received the phone call I had hoped for. "This is Cold Stone, and I don't know when, who, or how, but we found your wallet. I have it right here." Relief and joy spread through my body. I had an identity again. I had proof of my existence, and could be a normal functioning member of society once again. Now I just have to wait for my newest plastic money to arrive.

Interviewing

Every time I date, I want to quit. I just think the process is so ridiculous, and I suddenly start feeling that my life really cannot be that lonely or boring to necessitate me dating these morons. I start wondering why I am out with them, and start comparing them to people I have had relationships with in the past; picking apart and dissecting them, noting exactly how they simply do not measure up to what I want or what I would be happy with. By the end of my lunch date today, I decided that maybe I really should just stay single. How bad could it really be?

This week I am interviewing people for the receptionist position at our firm. I think I have interviewed about a dozen or so people already, and its worn me out beyond belief. You sit there explaining the position to all of these people over and over again, and interact with them hoping you will see that something special when you speak with them. Hoping that you will find the next great thing. You see the hopefulness in their eyes. They want the job; they need the job. Desperation is unattractive, in a date or in an interviewee. You stare at their resumes because you don't want to tell them that you have no desire to hire them or that they simply have no chance of getting the job because you know how much it sucks to be out of a job. You have been there. You have been the person starving and trying to pay your bills and hoping the next interview is the one.

Suddenly, you are now on the other side. You worry about people being "over qualified". You worry about whether they will be happy in the position, and how long they will last. Now periods of brief employment make you nervous. You worry about whether they will be able to handle the job and not alienate any of the clients. You want to ask the right questions, ferret out their personality and get to know what makes them tick all in the span of one hour, at most. Some shine, and some sit dimly there, unaware of everything that is passing through your mind at that moment.

I often feel the same way now when I am dating - trying to learn more about the person, and figuring out whether they would be right for the position of my girlfriend, or really any position in my life at all. You worry about the type of person that they are, what they will be like in a relationship, whether they will be happy with you and you with them. Fret about prior brief relationships that they have had, and any baggage that they might carry. Soon dating becomes a little bit like interviewing where you start getting a sense within about fifteen minutes of how well the interview is going to go. You hope against hope that they will come out with something stellar that will blow your mind and leave you thinking, I want them, but at the end of the date you say your goodbyes with things ending just about the way you expected. You learn to trust your instincts more, but at the same time you get completely fed up with the entire process and just wish you could find someone to hire.

Alcohol as Inspiration

My best friend invited me to his girlfriend's house in Miami for the weekend. It was a little surprising because I barely know her parents (she still lives at home), and now they were inviting me to dinner. However, I thought it would be pretty cool to hang out with them. I even bought wine to accompany the dinner, but we couldn't wait for the dinner to start before enjoying the wine.

It was after the first bottle that we became inspired to make an appetizer. In this case we decided on potabellos marinated in a wine sauce, mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto ham, tomatoes, and sauteed spinach. Mmmm, various spices, seasonings, and lots of garlic were added, and the wine was eventually reduced to a delicious wine sauce. BAM! Delicious.

As I related this story to an amazing siren today, she responded, "Stop drooling. It's only food." Aww, she just didn't understand. I love food, and this was delicious food. Few things rank above food on my list of things in this world that I love. I mean there's sleep, sex, and food. Some (George Costanza included) have even tried to combine two of the foregoing to create a rare and supremely orgasmic experience. Everything beyond these items is negotiable. I mean who really needs to breathe if you have to forfeit these.

I fear that the family may think I'm an alcoholic. They looked at me, as we "crazy kids" had gone through 3 bottles of wine in one afternoon. However, one bottle was almost fully consumed in marinating, and two bottles over five hours really isn't that bad. "Look at you trying to rationalize it," the siren chided. I have never achieved the status of alcoholic. I think I lack the motivation it would take to drink that often. This is probably for the best as one can only have so many things on their list that they rank above breathing.

Redesign

Inspired by Kiki, I have recruited some talent to help me. The problem is I have no idea where to start.

I think I want something simple, graphic-wise. I like little pixel people like at Chris Diclerico's. I think it would be cool to have that, and I was thinking maybe a beach theme or palm trees and ocean thing, because I am in Florida, after all. I would really like some input, though, on what any of you think and what you would like to see.

I also would like your input on the name of my blog. See at first my blog was supposed to be a blog exploring concepts and ideas. A place where my friends and I could discuss stuff. Thus, the name, "What's Out There". That didn't happen. It's more my life to date. Hence, the URL. But I can't change the name easily because people have linked to me under the old name now. So now I'm thinking space, or lighthouses or just changing the silly name. Or should I just leave it the way it is?

Your help is appreciated.

Random Musings

I also had a few musings this weekend that I felt I could safely share. Mind you the following are directed at absolutely no one in particular. They are just things that occur to me.

- Women and men seem to view being single and not being able to find the right person (their "soulmate") in different ways. A woman seems to complain that she has been having meaningless, hot animal sex with men that just aren't the right guys. "Yeah, the sex was amazing, I remember wrapping my legs around him ..." Whereas, a guy is usually not sleeping with a bunch of random women that he knows are not the one in his desperate search for the one. Granted, they're having sex probably, but perhaps not as frequently or as on demand as a woman. It's just not a problem many men encounter. I think this has to do with the fact that women get hit on by men a lot more than men get hit on by women. I figure women like sex at least as much as men do, and so when they have a moment of weakness, it's a lot easier for them to give into carnal desire than a man - unless the guy is that kind of sexy women instantly want. I wonder is a woman would be less likely to give into such desire with a guy that they really liked for fear of being thought slutty.

- I'm tired of women thinking men are the only ones that can be bad at sex. Maybe I'm just picky or something, but I have met quite a few women that quite honestly are not that good. Remember that scene in 40 Days 40 Nights where Josh Hartnett fakes it? Yeah, been there, done that. Was it good for you? Not really. Was I the best you ever had? Not even close. Am I a good kisser? Ewww. Why do women ask these questions? Why? I would never come out and overtly tell anyone that they were terrible, but if they ask, I'm also not going to lie about it. Ladies, trust me, you may be the worst they have ever had too.

- People that insult attorneys amuse me because a lot of times they are the same people that recommend you get the most underhanded one possible when you need one. It's rare you hear someone say, get the one that is really ethical and fair. (This seems especially true in divorce.) They are out to get someone and they want to find the sliest attorney possible to really screw the other guy. Yet somehow they still think attorneys are what is wrong with America. What about the people bringing these cases to court. Trust me, if the people didn't pay us, we wouldn't do the work.