Italy Days 6 through 8 (Florence, Sienna, and Rome)

Because I just cannot take drawing this out any longer and because the last few days all sort of bunch together in my brain, with lots of interesting isolated events, but nothing I feel like really focusing on here, I will try to cover the final days of my trip in a more fast and loose, cursory style.

My remaining days in Italy went fairly smoothly, as I attempted to spend as little time as possible with my companion and as much time as I could doing my own thing. This really only worked in Florence, but once I was on my way to Sienna, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and truly felt there was no challenge I could not face.

The day I spent on my own in Florence was rather uneventful. I went and found the post office, via the British Embassy (don't ask) and mailed the one post card I had been requested to send. Although, upon my return I was informed that I was supposed to send a magnet (not a post card) and that they had never actually received either. This was really irritating to me - not because I had someone complaining to me about what I hadn't given them, but more because I had spent so much time finding the darn post office and given up a visit to the palace gardens and the darn thing still hadn't gotten to where it was directed.

I visited another couple of museums and found what was allegedly the best gelato in Italy. It isn't, though. The best gelato I found in Italy is at a place called Gelato de Medici in Florence and it is tasty. It is also outside of the city proper and would not be easily located by most tourists. However, if you happen to get lost and stumble upon it in the northeastern area of the city, I highly recommend that you just stop whatever you are doing and eat because you will likely never have the opportunity to experience that flavor again. (Although, there are many other good gelato places in Italy.)

That night, we all went out to a bar where you would buy a single drink and then eat from this buffet for free until there was nothing left to eat. This was my kind of place. Although, there still wasn't very much meat to be had and I mostly ate pasta and risotto. We then wandered around for a bit and climbed to a summit located a little outside of the main city and admired the night view of the city below. I attempted to take a decent picture of the view, but my camera does not seem to be well suited for night photography and I was eventually forced to give up.

Once we got back down, the women were tired and went off to journey home, but the rest of us went to a local pub. It was pretty cool because almost everyone here were college students and they all spoke English. The majority of them seemed to be much younger than me and I didn't really have very much to discuss with them, but I at least understood the bulk of the words coming out of their mouths. It was nice to not feel so isolated and alone.

On our way up the road, away from the pub, the sole remaining girl in our group let out a shout. It appears some stranger behind me had taken his date's head and slammed it against the stone wall a couple of times. One of the guys in our group was already going after the attacker so the three other guys joined in. This seemed to be probably the coolest thing ever. I was about to get into my first Italian street brawl and I had three other chaps backing me up. It was foolproof. I remember thinking that I was never going to get back to the States and that I'd have to call the American Embassy before the night was over, but still feeling that it was totally worth it. I was also fairly sure that the guy might be able to take at least two of us.

The fight never actually happened, and all we really did was distract him long enough to allow her to retreat back down the road, where there were more people. This, however, seemed to be an acceptable solution to us, as he wasn't likely going to be allowed to beat her up in front of even more people. So our work was done, even though two of us still wanted to go kick his ass. Half of me just wanted to do it to see how it would all work out.

The next day (day seven), we boarded our train to Sienna and bid adieu to all of the wonders and delights of Florence.

We arrived and upon learning our first choice hotel was full, proceeded to the nearest convent. I felt we had to stay with the nuns for our last stop in Italy. After all, had it not been a nun that had helped us so much in Assisi? Plus, it was close and had forty rooms. They couldn't possibly all be filled we figured. Fortunately, our logic appeared to be correct and a room was acquired. Once in our room, we learned that the showers here didn't even have doors, which we felt should make showering even more exciting the next morning.

We then set out to explore the main attractions of the city, which included a large bell tower (with approximately 500 steps). The city was a really pretty place, but kind of an annoying one to walk around in because you could not really go anywhere without walking up and down enormous hills. It was like Assisi in that respect, but not as scenic (in my opinion) and was more eclectic in its elevations. However, we were able to quickly cover the main sites in a very short amount of time in our first and second (day eight) days there. After a little sightseeing on day eight, I finished the rest of my shopping and we found our way back to the train station and to Rome. My companion had used her frequent flier miles (she accrues through work) to book us a room at the Hilton adjacent to the airport in Rome so that we wouldn't have to wake up too early to get to our early morning flight the next day. It wouldn't have matter, though, as I could not sleep at all that night and was up and ready to go well before any alarm was set to go off.

We met some cool Americans for our flight home (day nine) and helped the teenager with them get her passport stamped and get through security. It was pretty cool to be able to socialize with random people again. We landed, made it through security twice (once in Rome and once in Paris because somehow even though you never leave the secured area, they have to check you again), caught our connecting flight, which departed an hour late, and flew home. I dropped my companion off at her apartment and haven't spoken to her since.

Italy Day 5 (Florence)

We arrived at the Florence train station and set out to locate the people that would be letting us stay with them. My traveling companion's father had some folks he knew (around our age) that had offered to let us stay with them. I would be staying with a guy and she would be staying with a woman. I thought this was owing to our sexual orientations, but learned upon our arrival that they had been expecting two women.

Locating our hosts proved to be a little difficult, and my companion became irritated that I had decided to exit on the left side of the train station, when the parking lot was located on the right. Note that there was no way for either of us to know which side of the station the parking lot was on, and we didn't actually need the lot to meet our hosts anyway, as they parked away from the station anyway. This did not keep her from becoming irate and lecturing me on the art of meeting people. In retrospect, I'm still surprised that I never lost my temper with her the entire time I was on the trip.

Once we were settled in, we set out for some lunch and then visited the Duomo and Medici Chapel. They were both very impressive. We even hiked up the over 400 stairs to the top of the Duomo to gaze upon the city below. The view was beautiful, and a cold front had just pushed through the day before, forcing all of the haze out of the atmosphere and making the view absolutely crystal clear. Finally, we eventually wandered back to where were to meet our hosts and found a cool souvenir shop where I was able to acquire nearly all of my gift souvenirs for the folks at home.

At this point, I was fairly sure that I really couldn't take any more sacred art. In my opinion, there were only so many different ways you could paint the cross and various scenes from the Bible, and I was fairly sure that I had seen them all, or at least as many as I could take. This seems somewhat understandable, after I had spent five days doing practically nothing but staring at sacred art and architecture. My companion was driving me a little crazy and I was getting pretty tired of eating starch every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It wasn't that I didn't like it. I just wanted more (or any) meat for my money.

Our hosts came home and we eventually walked to dinner. The person leading us (the woman my companion was to stay with) had a fairly terrible sense of direction and we got lost for at least an hour. My companion never complained once, but I knew it was driving her absolutely nuts. I thought it was somehow fitting that she was to be staying, and led home, by this directionless woman.

My companion informed me that she was going to Pisa the next day, but I had opted to forgo this city, as I was told by many that the only real item of note there was the Leaning Tower and I didn't want to spend a bunch of Euros and time on a train with my travelling mate to go see a silly tower that I knew would be leaning.

Dinner was really good. We ate with a few other Italians that worked with our hosts and I had one of the largest calzones I had ever had in my life. It was really good and then we spent the remainder of the night playing soccer and volleyball in the middle of the square outside. It had a ton of other locals there and they were all singing (I distinctly remember Pearl Jam) and drinking until after we went home at about 1am. Bear in mind that this was in the middle of the week. Those Italians sure do know how to have fun.

Italy Day 4 (Assisi)

After our rude awakening and after my traveling companion had given the bathroom a good washing, we set off to explore the city that is Assisi. (Incidentally, I have pictures of the entire trip posted with captions online, but some of the photos are personal and I've been trying to decide how to handle this. At some point, I will transfer over the personal ones to a private album and only leave the public ones up and post a link here. However, until that day comes, I have to know you and you have to email me and request the link.)

Assisi is commonly associated with St. Francis, who believed that the church should be more interested in simplicity and not so pretentious in its displays. The city itself, is really rather hilly and you can't get much of anywhere without walking up or down, and it remains basically unchanged from more ancient times. It even still have the wall to the city intact. For me, this was much more like the Italy I had wanted to see, much less touristy and far more authentic feeling.

One thing we learned was that after doing Rome in three days, doing any other city was a piece of cake, more or less. We were able to walk the entire span of the city in very little time and the number of sights to see was far less compared to the ancient Roman city. This afforded me the time to take a long secluded three mile uphill walk (and hike) to St. Francis' private sanctuary. (They even still hold Mass in the woods up there.) Most people take a taxi to the Sanctuary, but my feeling was that if St. Francis could do it, I could do it.

The sanctuary is really an amazing area for nature lovers and they have hiking and biking trails that you could likely explore for many hours. Unfortunately, by the time I got there, I no longer had many hours. However, the journey up was a bit humorous to me, as lots of people making the walk up have hiking shoes and gear. I had basketball sneakers and a pair of cargo shorts, with my trusty iPod. I'd get to a resting point and take a two minute break and see a few hikers (usually from Germany) come up with their big packs and they'd look at me - this strange little fellow with none of the required gear.

Hours later, I returned (going down was so much easier than going up - except for the falling rocks) and we went to dinner, which was good because I had neglected to eat the whole day and had built up a bit of an appetite. The restaurant we chose was really cool. There were no other patrons there when we arrived and it was definitely off the beaten path. I had pasta and Italian sausage and my companion had rabbit, which she wanted me to try, but after having the sausage, there was simply no way I could do it. I simply could not bring myself to blemish the delightful flavor that was still swirling in my mouth. I have never had sausage that good. (Minor caveat - when I go to an Italian restaurant in America, I am always served bread and there is olive oil on the side with herbs in it. I was never served this way the entire time I was in Italy.)

The next morning, we left for Florence - the city that I awaited with great anticipation, after so many people (not the least of which being Jill) told me what an amazing city it is.

Italy (Night 3/Morning 4) Assisi

After exploring Rome for the third day, we boarded a train and headed to Assisi. For those of you that have no idea where I'm talking about, you can read more about it. Basically, it's a small city located in Umbria, but that probably doesn't tell many of you very much more than when I said we headed to Assisi. However, if you take a gander at this map, you can more easily see where I went. One thing I have to say about traveling is it sure will help you learn your geography.

So the train ride was basically uneventful. My traveling companion looked at me with raised eyebrow upon learning that I wrote in my journal everyday. Apparently, this somehow conflicted with the very serious reading she was doing across for me, or somehow didn't comport with what she felt a journal was meant to be. Perhaps a journal, in her mind, is only met to be updated with significant events - like meeting the Pope or witnessing a bank robbery - I'm not sure. All I know is that it clearly did not meet her approval that I was updating my journal again. I mean, it had only been a day.

So the train ride was mostly uneventful. We did meet a young Albanian girl traveling with her family who desperately wanted to make friends with us and talk, but there was quite a language barrier. This did not dissuade her from trying as hard as possible to teach us and I have to say it was immensely entertaining. It also helped keep my traveling companion from absolutely stressing out that we had missed our stop or were going the wrong way or some other ridiculous thing. As soon as we went through a stop that wasn't in her little book, there was no calming her down, and despite her professions that she was calm and it wasn't a "big deal", you could tell from her inability to sit still and her constantly looking everywhere from some sort of direction that she was immediately stressed. Enter the Albanian girl to set things right. (We had just been to the Vatican and St. Peter's Cathedral that day so I was pretty much feeling God was at work.) Now if you don't think that was divine, wait for what comes next.

There we are, waiting at our bus stop, outside the train station in the cold. (OK, it was probably 50, but for me and the other Italians there that's pretty darn cold.) And in walks the nun. Now seeing nuns, priests, and monks in Italy is not rare. I think they are about as prolific as ancient monuments in Rome, but I had never seen one waiting for a bus. She walked up to me and asked me what time it was. Upon figuring out that I didn't speak Italian and she barely spoke English, she stared at my watch with me and figured out whether she had understood what I had tried to tell her. My traveling companion came over a few minutes later and was able to communicate a little better with the nun and explained to her where we were trying to stay for the night. (We had no hotel reservations after Rome, so we were totally winging it.) Upon boarding the bus, the locals and the bus driver burst into a spirited discussion about where we should get let off for our hotel. They ended up letting us off one stop early, which was good because our planned stop would have involved walking down a whole lot stairs, and the nun walked us to our hotel. How cool is that? I decided God was totally on our side at that point, and we got to the hotel and got a room. We had to get a triple, which was a little bit more than the double we had planned on, but it was worth it.

We hadn't eaten dinner so we went to try and find somewhere still open. In Rome or Florence this would not have been much of an issue, as Italians generally eat pretty late anyway and 8 or 9 at night is just about the time they show up for dinner. However, in Assisi, getting food at 10PM was not going to be easily accomplished. We settled for whatever was open, and I think I had some sort of pizza. We had planned to sleep in the next morning. However, we quickly learned that was so not going to happen, as you could hear absolutely all of the outdoor sounds perfectly from our room - the car driving past, the people walking, the churches bells (oh, I said churches) - and all of them conspired against us sleeping anywhere past 7. So I got up to take our shower, which ended up being tricky.

Our shower didn't really have walls. It sort of had doors that were to act as walls, but if you were in the shower too long and the water was too high, you'd quickly overflow into the remainder of the bathroom. I quickly realized this before even getting into the shower and was very strategic in my water usage and showering. I came out and warned my companion. She came out a while later and informed me that she had more or less flooded the bathroom. Convinced that it had to be a problem with the drain, she later complained to the hotel folks, who sent a young Peruvian goddess over to mop up my companion's mess and provide us with new towels. (The next morning pretty much went the same way for my companion. She just couldn't quite seem to get a handle on using less water pressure or something.)

Clean and awake, off we went to explore the splendors of Assisi.

Rome (Days 2 & 3)

My second two days in Rome were mostly spent looking at really old things. That's the thing about Rome, you can't really go anywhere without stumbling over some ancient building or monument, or something else equally impressive. This is the reason Rome has been having such a hard time creating a third subway line - every time they go digging, they find something historical. Those Romans sure did like to build.

We went to the Colosseum and Palatine Hill, which is where a huge ancient castle stood for many, many years. Most or all of the marble from these two immense structures was taken for the Vatican. Apparently, while it's good to be the king, it is sometimes better to be the Pope. It is also a "little known fact" that the Vatican never paid for most of the marble that was quarried for it. I guess it was hard to collect from the person that was supposed to be the representation of God.

We also went to the Vatican and St. Peter's Cathedral and a few places in-between. It is not easy to get into the Vatican and we had to wait in-line for almost three hours, which brings me to an interesting caveat. Lines mean nothing in Italy. I don't care if it's the line to get into the Vatican or the line in the grocery store. If you aren't cutting in line, you aren't Italian. The other interesting thing was that I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside most of the places I went to. So while I went there, I can't really prove it. I saw the Sistine Chapel, however, and was duly impressed. Although, I believe I might have been more impressed by the Raphael Rooms for their amazing use of light.

I am not a huge fan of sacred art and, to an extent, I think a lot of it is pretty ridiculous. However, while I was there, I gained a new appreciation for much of what these artists were doing and attempting to convey. I saw the progression of the positioning of people and the way light is reflected and represented. I saw the importance that the artists attached to certain sections of biblical text and their tireless devotion to achieving a finished product that was often simply amazing. At the same time, I was often struck with all the adornments that decorated these places of God and was left to puzzle over whether all of the money used on these things might not have been better spent on feeding the poor. However, I learned that I was not alone in this question and there were many spiritual leaders even back then that thought along these same lines.

Each day, we walked for about ten hours and tried to see as much as possible. The food was always good, but it was far more starchy than I had expected. The thing I had to remind myself of was that Italians were poor and often Italian food was peasant food. So they cooked mostly what was cheap and in great supply, bread, pasta, and other various starches are easy to come by - as is really good cheese. However, if you're looking for meat, you're looking to spend an awful lot to get it, and usually the two do not mix. If there is any meat added to a starch, it is often a very small amount. For example, a panini will often have a single slice of prosciutto. Pizza will have a hunk or two of sausage or ham if you ask for it. Pasta might have a few hunks of meat in its meat sauce. However, more often than not, you're usually eating a lot of starch and drinking wine, which is cheaper or about as expensive as water.

Rome still remains an amazing city and I would say that if you are only ever going to see one city in Italy, Rome would have to be at the top of the list. There is just so much to see in it.

Rome (Day 1)

Just to start out, I want to make clear that I'm not sure I will be giving a day by day account of my trip, but I thought the first day of it deserved a little something special. I am still working on the photos.

We arrived in Rome the day after we left. For those of you playing at home, I got on a plane at about 5:30 in the afternoon on a Friday, but didn't arrive in Rome until about midday Saturday. Fortunately, our hotel was near the central train station in Rome (Termini). So after taking the express shuttle from the main airport to Rome (11 Euros poorer - the rate has gone up since the tour books were published - and about a half hour later) we completed our brief walk to our hotel. Of course, it being midday and all (even though I hadn't really slept), we showered and immediately set off to take in some of the sights, sounds, and smells that are Italy.

Our journey began at the Spanish Steps. All great journeys begin with a single step they say, or in this case, several. I think it was as soon as I got to there that I felt Rome was like Disney World. Just the amazing amount of tourists and folks crowding around both The Steps and every other major sight I saw in Rome made me feel that I could have had the same experience going to Epcot, and it would have been cheaper, dammit.

Rome has some amazing architecture, however, and is truly a splendor to behold. You really cannot go anywhere without seeing something impressive, even if it's just the pizza in the window of a local eatery or the gelato that flows like water. Something is bound to impress. My travelling companion was lured in by a painting in one of the squares that she decided she simply had to have. So after looking at all of the others, and really considering it for a while, she gave in and spent the 100 Euros necessary to acquire it. (100 Euros was half price, but really everything was half price unless you were really dumb like this one girl we saw who quickly expressed her love for everything to the kiosk folks).

Pictures taken and painting in hand, it was time for dinner. I had mapped out all of our food destinations in every city we were going to before we arrived. So off we went to a place that even had red and white checked table clothes and of course, house wine (Chianti). (For those of you that don't know, the house wines come in unmarked containers. I say containers because sometimes it came in bottles, sometimes in carafes, and other times in pitches.) The food was so good, I decided I needed to have two meals - a pizza and then a full plate of pasta with Italian sausage. While I know German sausage is supposed to be a marvel to behold, I have always been somewhat partial to the Italian variety.

Afterwards, we meandered home and I took a Tylenol sleeping pill and passed out by ten (Italy time), 4PM (US).

Travelling Companions

"We only ever do what I want to do!"

Are you kidding? Were we really going to argue about this. This type of argument could only ever possibly occur with a woman. (Why can't a woman be more like a man?) But there it was, we were in a hotel room in a distant part of the world and she was challenging me to, I guess, force her to do something she didn't want to do(?). It really made no sense.

I attempted to explain to her that the central focus of my trip was food and drink and not the many other sights and splendors that surrounded us. So really my only priority was where we ate and drank and I had always been good at vocalizing these desires to her. Otherwise, I was more than happy to see the sights she felt were most important.

"It can't be all about food and drink."

"It can't?"

"That just doesn't make sense to me."

"We're just different people with different priorities. You shouldn't trouble yourself so much about it. You won't find me doing things that I don't want to do." (Other than being on this trip with you, you crazy chic.)

The funny part was that I could tell, over the course of living and being with this person for a little over a week, that she and I could have been great friends for hanging out and just being regular friends. However, we were not built to travel and live together. Such things can sometimes be a difficult thing to gauge before the situation is at hand. You have to make sure you are with the right type of person for trips such as these, or risk spoiling the bulk of the experience. I had not taken the time and care necessary to make this selection.

My trip to Italy, to be sure, was really amazing. I saw artwork and scenery that was simply breathtaking. I went on nature hikes and met locals and tasted foods that were so incredibly delicious. However, it would have been a much more pleasurable trip and my experiences would have been more enjoyable if I had been travelling with someone else. I would say, however, that the fact that I was still able to eek out a good overall experience is simply a testament to the splendidness that is Italy.

Euro -J

I had attempted to post this through an outside program, but it - for whatever reason - did not seem to actually appear after it reflected completion. In any event, this is simply a post to notify you all that I am indeed back. I have even posted pictures into an online account for your viewing pleasure, but I have not been able to isolate the private photos from the public ones, as of yet. So, even though it pains me, you will have to wait to see more until I have had more time to organize.

The Swing of Things

Everything within me is a bit of a tangled mess, at present. I have much to write, but all of it winds up elsewhere, as I feel that most of my thoughts and expressions are simply not presently suitable for this forum. So I end up with much written but this is poorly reflected here. As such, I've been searching my brain trying to find a way out of this mess, and trying to think of a new direction I can take with my writing here.

Part of me wishes this blog was political because then I truly would not be wanting for writing material. What with a Congressman caught in a homosexual sex scandal, the war in Iraq being linked to increased levels of terrorist threats, George Bush being George Bush, McCain flip flopping like a champ, the Democrats not able to find a single coherent candidate, a new Bill that is to become law that allows my government to wiretap my phone and read all of my emails if they don't like me one week, and the Bill that allows Bush to interpret the Geneva Conventions. I think I could write for days, and that was just within the past two weeks. However, I leave such things to the far more capable hands of people like Thomas.

My best friend has complained that she would like to see more of my daily events and happenings on my blog. I tend not to put so much of that on here, though, because I don't know how many people I want to have access to this information. It's fine if only my friends read this blog, but I have people I've never even talked to reading this thing. Somehow it just feels ... inappropriate. However, perhaps a little taste of this will do for now. I'm open to other topic ideas, should any of you (the collective masses) have any.

I had a girl ask me to help her cheat last night. I'm not sure if it would actually be considered cheating, but it definitely walked the line. She wanted me to do all the research for a paper that she is writing. See, this is a very good reason to be dumber than your friends, no one will ever ask you to do their work for them. For example, I would never ask George Bush to interpret ... but I digress.

I still haven't packed for my trip. To be honest, until Monday, I wasn't even really excited about my trip. However, I chose Monday as the day to sit down and prepare my eating itinerary, or at least map out all the places I wanted to eat at while in the various Italian cities I'll be touring. It was during this planning phase, as I read about the various delicacies I would be experiencing that I became quite excited. For me, most of traveling comes down to company and food. Scenery is nice, of course. However, as Mark Twain once said, "Go to heaven for the climate, but to hell for the company." (This could lead to a discussion of the religious happenings in my life, but won't.)

I always forget how much I love baseball games until I go to them again. I went to one on Sunday with my little brother. We had such an awesome time. Baseball cheerleaders are fantastic because they actually look like women you could really date. In fact, they look an awful lot like one of my ex-girlfriends, but that's an entirely different story. However, cheerleaders alone are not my reason for loving baseball. You just get an entirely different fan base at baseball games, usually, and most of the people are so cool. I have to say, though, that there aren't as many hot women that attend Florida Marlins (baseball) games as attend Florida Panthers (hockey) games. I could make my blog all about baseball, but I think such a task would be best left to the writing talents of Jill and Rachel.

Upcoming Excitement

I have been very far removed from the land of blog, as I have been fully consumed with thoughts and events that are wholly inappropriate for this forum. Make no mistake, posts have been drafted and journal entries have been made, but all of it still involves work and private reflection. When I haven't been preoccupied with these thoughts and events, I have been preparing for upcoming trip, which brings me the most peace I seem to be able to find as of late.

Somehow it is incredibly reassuring to know that next week I will be in Rome, spending time with a woman I barely know, but who I will likely know much better after a week alone in one of the most romantic spots in the world together. However, before I get there a lot of work has to be accomplished. Case files need to be placed in reasonable order, and somehow I need to find the time to do all the cleaning, organizing, packing, and reading I still have to do for the trip itself.

I can't wait to be able to look out my window and see the splendors and sights of Italy.

Fatigue

"I don't like him."

His friend stared at him, silently pained. "But I love him. He is such an amazing guy. Besides, you've never met him; you don't even know him. All my other friends like him."

"I don't have to meet him to know that I don't like him. He's insecure, possessive, and dangerous. Be careful."

Today he received a phone call from his friend. Listening to her, his heart skipped a couple of beats, as she told him she was moving halfway across the country to escape her lover. He had just beaten her up the night before, and was, presently, in jail. You could hear the pangs of sorrow and regret in her voice. She had tried to defend him to the police - begging them not to arrest him, swearing that he hadn't really hurt her, but they were unpersuaded as they stared at the black and blue marks formed on her body.

You could hear that hope in her voice. You could feel that desire welling up within her to be close to him again. To be back with this man and hold him close again - the emotion fighting to break free from the grasp of her reason and logic.

"I need to move. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I know. It's ok. You're going to be alright."

As he spoke to her, he felt a sense of pain, anger, and sadness wash over him. Somewhere there was that little person in his head - that person that had predicted all of this so many months ago. He had seen it all unfold before it had begun and had tried desperately to warn his friend before the incident occurred. This miniature man had no desire to condemn with reproaches or any statements of I told you so. He simply wanted to give up and sulk, as he whispered quietly to himself, "I'm so tired of being right."

Detour

"I don't understand why you aren't following your own advice."

"I'm worried I'll be making a mistake."

"You'll be alright, as long as you go with your gut. How often has your gut been wrong?"

"Never. Well there was that one night that I insisted I wanted a third helping ..."

"That's quite a track record. You're always complaining about others not listening to your advice. I think you should seriously consider giving yourself a good stern talking to and follow the path that you know is best for you."

"I don't like that path. It looks rather daunting, scary, and sad."

"No one ever said the right path would look nice and attractive at the outset. It's the right path because of where it leads. Sometimes the paths that are easiest and most inviting are the paths to our own pain and destruction."

"Like the gingerbread house in the fairy tales?"

"Yes, Goldie Locks. Like the gingerbread house."

Getting Personal

"You said what?!"

"Well she was annoying me."

"Man, remind me never to bug you."

"I knew there was no potential of her holding my interest for longer than the conversation anyway."

"The worst part is I know you did it completely matter of factly. You never even lost your composure for a moment. You carried on the whole discussion in a surgical like fashion. The entire experience was almost like a meditation for you."

"Would it be preferable if I lost my temper?"

"Oh, now that would have been exciting. That serene calmness that spreads across you when you're mad can be so unnerving. I swear, it takes an act of God sometimes to get that passionate anger to come out of you anymore. The day you find the woman that raise your ire will be the day I rejoice."

"Oh no you don't. We're not walking down that road this evening."

"Hmmm ... not so impassive on that subject are you?"

"We are so not talking about this."

"Wow. I'm intrigued."

Italy Bound

"I'll go to Europe with you if we can go to Italy."

And thus my trip, with a woman I barely know, was born.

In just a few weeks, I will be enjoying the beauty and splendor that is Italy. That's right, Florence, Venice, Rome, Tuscany, etc. I'll be there. Watch out Italy. I'm going on an extremely limited budget so I'm not entirely sure how much I'll be able to do while I'm there, but I intend to do as many people things as possible.

Of course the unwritten rule applies - what happens in Italy, stays in Italy. Unless, of course, I somehow have sex with a gorgeous supermodel. Then it will stay completely confined to my blog, email, journal, and any other person that will possibly listen.

Playing It Safe

"I don't get it."

"You're not necessarily supposed to.

"When you truly fall in love it will often be the scariest and most exciting times of your life because you are actually risking everything.'"

"Why would one be afraid of falling in love?"

"Well I'm sure everyone, to one extent or another, has certain fears when they get involved with the person they think might be their one true lifelong love - what if they are the wrong one, what if we aren't a good match, will I stay happy, etc. Doubts and fears are natural, to an extent, but they can easily become debilitating. For example, some people have additionally strong fears, which can be brought on by the divorce of the person's parents, abandonment by a parent (or two), hurt in prior relationships, past abuse, etc. For these people, the stakes seem higher because they're short stacked."

"... I sense a metaphor coming."

"It's often easier for people to play the five dollar tables in gambling - stay with the person that could never possibly leave you, get into fundamentally flawed relationships that are doomed to fail, or something that has the net effect of allowing them to avoid the truly intimate relationship that has the most potential of hurting them. Everyone copes with this fear in their own way - everyone has their own tolerance for risk at the casino. Some can play the low stakes tables for the remainder of their days and find true joy and comfort in such an arrangement. However, they will never have as big of a payout (or as big of a loss) as the person playing at the high stakes no limit table where they bet big and they take they house."

"So dating is equivalent to gambling or a slightly absurd version of Ocean's 11?"

"Well ... it is a numbers game."

"So what about the people that confine themselves to the low stakes tables or the cycles of slightly worse than ideal matches in an attempt to 'play it safe', are they confined to that pattern forever?"

"It's all emotion based. Emotions are inherently irrational and when you have a negative developmental history - abuse, abandonment, low self-esteem, etc. - your emotions will often not lead you to the healthy outcomes that your rational side truly craves. Moreover, your emotional side will play tricks on your rational side and convince it that it really is getting what it wants. Psychotherapy is often the process of figuring out why you do what you do and then applying rationality to emotion and allowing your rational side a more powerful position in the choices you make. However, the person actually has to want to do this, and it's usually very rare to find people willing to put forth the effort to make the change. After all, safe is ... well, safe."

"Even if it doesn't lead to the most fulfilling relationship?"

"Emotion is attracted to what it knows. Hence, if you grew up being abused, you will often be attracted to either others you can abuse or people that will abuse you. The person with an overbearing parent may, in turn, become overbearing to their significant other or children or both. (We are often products of our parents.) The dynamic that is created will be what the person is used to, and so will be felt as familiar and safe. (This all occurs on an unconscious level and the person is usually never aware of what they are doing.) No one ever said emotions made sense."

"That's crazy."

"Yes, I suppose it is. The interesting thing about psychology is that no matter what you think of your actions and your behavior, you are right. The alcoholic that believes their drinking isn't a problem, the person in the hopelessly flawed relationship who sees it as love, the abusive person that sees nothing wrong with the three scars he just left, they are all right. It is rare that anyone can ever tell you what you are doing is wrong because the emotions will defend you against all rationality. This is why the adage exists that 'admission is the first step'. For without it, all you really have are avoidance and denial."

Catching Up

I know. I know. I haven't been posting. My life has just been rather ... intense, as of late. I've been changing cell phones and, consequently, updating everyone in my address book on my new number. I've been fretting over some of my friends and enjoying as much time as possible with them. I've been attempting to plan a trip for next month to Scottsdale, Arizona and the Grand Canyon, and I believe I have finally located at least one other person to accompany me to Europe. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I've been spending time with my little brother, continuing to learn salsa, and working. You remember, I have a job.

I know, it's really no excuse for not writing. However, I really have been writing. It's just everything I have had to say as of late has belonged in my private journal, password protected and hidden away. The thoughts swirling through my head are simply not for public consumption. So instead, I will now attempt to talk about some random topic that's been kicking around in my head for over a week now with no real direction.

It has recently become apparent to me that I do not update my friendship designations very frequently. For example, if I form a best friend at one point in my life, in my mind, they remain my best friend indefinitely, unless and until they at some point cease to be my friend at all. Some have suggested that this causes immense confusion, as I always seem to have ten best friends at any given moment, which seems a little ludicrous. Even I don't think I have the time that would need to be invested in that many close relationships. I think part of the "problem" is that I tend to form very close and intimate relationships with people in my life. I end up knowing a couple hundred, but become close to just a few. The few that I remain close to are always very special.

The people I consider my best friends are still there for me whenever I need them. I have few friends that won't call me back the same day. Even the ones that live in foreign countries and are sometimes in isolated areas, lacking such luxuries as running water, will usually get back to me within a week. I think that commitment is part of what makes us all friends - we are all fully committed to the friendship and will always be there whenever the other one needs something. However, there is no denying that over time, mostly as a result of people scattering to different regions of the globe, I have grown apart from some of my closest friends. We no longer get to speak every day, or even every month. However, I know if I am ever in need they will be there, and we all try to keep up on one another's lives as much as possible.

How does one classify people like that? I can't just call them "friends" because I have many "friends" that I could never count on that way. Perhaps I need to invent a new classification system. Adding such designations as "close friend" and "acquaintance", but then I'll just be confusing myself, and potentially everyone else. Every day I would need to remind myself of what I had classified this certain person as the week before. Perhaps one should just classify such people as "true friends".

"People say that friends hold hands, but true friends don't need to, because they know that the other hand is always there."

Peering In

Stephanie will often come up with a gem, or something that reaffirms to me that perhaps, just maybe, there are other people out there that actually think about things.

"On some level I suppose that's why make-up sex can get so hot, especially when it starts before you've actually made up. Or more importantly, why so many of us stick around in the wrong relationships. We're hoping our partner might soften to us, might hopefully change. We know better, certainly, but we ignore our heads and follow our hearts... into heartbreak."

I have several female friends caught in this pattern. They've been doing it for years, through multiple relationships, and I suppose that by now it's become old hat and familiar. I'm not even sure if they would know what to do in any other type of relationship anymore. One of my friends recently explained to me how her entire relationship was ridiculous and said that she needed to move on and begin anew. The next day she came to me rather excitedly, "He's coming to visit me!"

"This is the guy you thought you should move on from, right?"

"Well yeah, but I would be lonely this weekend anyway."

"And am I to believe that being alone is a fate worse than being with the wrong person?"

It's a question that would be pointless to ask because as smart and rational as she is, she's still a fool for love. She wants it; wants it so bad she can taste it and for whatever reason, wants it from this man in particular. I can hear the familiar refrain in my head as I type, "If you only saw him the way I do." Yes, if only I could see him in the irrational light you have him glowing in, I'm sure it would be amazing.

However, it would be unfair to my friend to say that she is alone in her pursuit. Some of the most accomplished and intelligent women I have known through my life fall into this cycle. "A person's level of intelligence bears no real relation to their behavior. Abusive people can be nuclear physicists." Something so obvious and so true and yet I have to pay her for this insight.

Working It

It is sometimes difficult for me to blog. Not because I lack things to say but more because I lack the things to say that are appropriate for this forum. I have filled pages (of the virtual variety) of my journal over the past week with thoughts and musings that simply could not survive out in the wild that is the blogosphere. As such, I will talk about some musing that I had as a result of a comment left on my blog.

I always thought therapy would be like a magic pill. You simply would go to the doctor's office and allow them to untangle the mess that had been created in your mind. Not that it would be absolutely painless, of course, but more like having your tonsils out - a one time procedure with some lingering pain that is easily comforted by ice cream. You might have to do something for it like not eat for 24 hours before the procedure, or ice the soreness afterward, but it would be quickly over with.

Over time, I have realized that therapy is far more like an elective procedure and that most of the work is actually performed by you, with the therapist sitting and waiting on the sidelines. On some level, I'm sure they hope that you sort it out, but on another, they probably have gotten to the point where they just don't care. Of course, they would like to see everyone make a full recovery and of course, they would like to feel that they are successful. However, success and failure in medicine is often determined by the patients you get. This is true in most medical fields I would think. For example, if you are a surgeon and only work with "hopeless" cases, you're far more likely to have a low success rate.

However, unlike surgery, the therapy patient has far more control over how far they are going to get and when they are going to get there. When you are operating to remove the bullet seated near the heart, you don't often have the patient there refusing to allow its extraction. The surgery happens as a matter of course. When you have someone dealing with a mental issue that is affecting and disrupting their life, there is very little you can do to aid the person unless they let you. Even if they allow you to assist, they still have to be willing to follow your prescription.

At times, I have grown extremely frustrated with my therapy, as I feel like nothing is getting accomplished. That I simply go in and tell them about my week but never work on any of the substantive issues underlying all of the interactions. When I finally express this frustration to my psychologists, they have always pointed out that this is what I like to do. "You enjoy coming in and talking and sharing a few laughs. I have nothing against it either, as I will get paid either way. If you happen to feel the happenings of your life are the most important things you have to share with me, then by all means, do so. However, the day you wish to actually focus on an issue affecting your life is the day you will actually grow and get your money's worth. Even an alcoholic has to admit that they have a problem before any steps can be taken to cure or manage it. I am not here to make you work; I am here to help you work."

Observations in Dating

"How have you been?"

It's always an interesting question and, to an extent, many of the people that ask it get a different level of honesty when I respond. The full honesty generally belongs in the emails to my closest friends or in my journal. However, I occasionally get to verbalize it to someone that I know will provide some of the best feedback and that's always one of my scariest and most enjoyable times.

The concern with expressing your feelings and thoughts to someone who's opinion you truly value, of course, is that they may disagree with you, or they may think you've lost your mind and that you might as well be describing the purple elephants you saw the other day in your back yard, as the person knows you don't even have a back yard. However, there's also the potential that the person will agree with you, smile, and nod, saying, "I think you're on the right track."

I experienced this recently at my psychologist's office. When you pay for the feedback and they're a licensed professional, it somehow makes it all that more valuable - even if your closest friends have already said the same thing. Months ago, as we began to chart my prior relationships, she had me make a list of every woman I had ever dated, and provide the reasons I had been attracted to each one of them and the reasons I had been repelled from them. This had seemed like an absolute waste of time when she gave me the assignment. What the heck was a list going to show me? (I have since learned that lists of all sorts are great because once you've written it, it's hard to ignore it. List the pros and cons of a decision. List what you need and your priorities. Listing and writing can be great ways to get to the heart of things. I guess that's one of the reasons lots of companies have mission statements.)

So there I sat, compiling my list, thinking to myself, "This is an absolute waste of time and it's getting me no where. Why doesn't this woman just give me the darn answer and leave me alone?" The reason, of course, is that she didn't have the answer, I did, and three quarters of the way through the list, I saw it. Every woman I had been with had been different. Different hair color, different personality, different careers, different level of charisma, different different different. However, the dynamic in every single relationship had been exactly the same. The reasons for my entering and, more importantly, the reasons for the relationship not lasting had all been very similar, if not exactly the same. "Wow." I felt so accomplished and scared and confused. "What the hell was I doing?"

Now, perhaps a year later, we discuss it some more and I provide her with my reflections on how I now view my life and how I think about relationships when I enter them. (I use examples of real life relationships and people that I know to provide examples of what I mean when I talk to her, but will not do so here so some things may be lost in the translation.) I'm starting to see exactly what I would want in a relationship, and I'm starting to see it as a best friendship, but maybe with some added flavor. I now see relationships as two people with lives coming together. Each person has their own activities, friends, family and other things, and it's not a matter of the people then abandoning this identity to be in the relationship - forsaking a hobby, friends, family, or their career for the other person. It's about being with someone that can be your best friend and support, and sometimes share, in these things that are important to us.

In many relationships, I frequently see the two people hanging out and doing things that they perhaps really do not want to do. One or both of the parties is so frequently trying to please the other, and sacrificing their own needs and identity in the process. I dated a girl that did that and she was miserable after a year because she felt no matter what she did, she could never make me happy. She never understood that I wanted her to just do whatever she wanted to do - "Don't go changing to try and please me". If you are happy, I will be happy for you. The friends that I have who are in truly happy and amazing relationships always have the same answer to this observation. They describe their time together as effortless like when you are with your best friend. You are able to hang out anywhere together and have a good time. (This is not to say that there is no effort put into the relationship. Just as there is effort put into the closest friendships you have, you often do not see it as effort or a sacrifice.)

Often to accomplish this the two people, again, must have commonalities, just like in a friendship. Overall, the two people keep their separate lives but have certain commonalities and such that integrate with one another, making time together occur naturally (not forced). For example, I love bookstores and spend hours in bookstores or listening to music or doing simple boring stuff (like people watching) that many other people wouldn't care about. I have best friends that share in my complete boringness and I love our time together. I like going out with my friends sometimes too, but over the years, I've become more low key when I go out and I love relaxing nights. I like my down time, and I like being with someone that shares in that.

My therapist, way back when, had wanted to know why I didn't correlate friendships with relationships - why I separated them in my mind as mutually exclusive categories. My closest friends in relationships that I just find extraordinary - the ones that seemingly exist with practically no effort and no fighting - had always told me that it was about friendship more than anything. It was about being with that person where all of it occurred naturally. Where you were able to maintain your identity and still add to it. I guess I am now really starting to grasp this concept. You really need to be with your best friend in a relationship, and I imagine that as hard as it is to find a best friend, so too is it hard to find that special someone. However, from all I have observed, once found, it is totally worth it.

Taking Time

In my life, I have known so many people that have trouble prioritizing their lives and lack any sort of realistic approach to the number of hours in a day. Day to day they are constantly on the move, trying to accomplish everything that everyone expects of them. They want to do it all - to be all things to all people. Their friends, family, lovers, and all the rest. It's admirable, but somehow in all of that sea of swiftness, they forsake the time that they used to take for themselves.

One person I know did this for years, and then one day she got very sick and almost died. Everyone that I have ever met that has almost died has a completely different perspective on life than everyone that hasn't. She now took time for the most simple things - enjoying a sunrise, relaxing, and taking time for herself. "God wanted me to slow down."

When I was the one running around and trying to accomplish everything under the sun in a day, I would sometimes make myself sick. She would always look at me and repeat her familiar refrain, "Well what did you expect? God wants you to take a break. You aren't really going to win the argument."

"But I like doing all of these things. They are important to me."

"When did you stop being important to you? You need a break. You need your downtime and your time for personal reflection. Do you think it's any wonder Europeans are, as a whole, healthier than us? Vienna waits for you." You can pretty much convince me of anything if you have a Billy Joel song to support your point.

"But it's not like I don't want to do these things."

"No one is doubting your sincerity or your passion for your commitments or your friends. However, your priorities need a little work. You have to remember that your needs should come in on that list higher than they seem to be falling. Being there for others is very important, but being there for yourself is often more important. It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two."

In my life, I have learned that time is the most valuable commodity we all have, and choosing how we spend that time is perhaps one of the most difficult balancing acts ever - with friends, interests, lovers, family, work, and a million of other things drawing on us. We often instinctively want to do it all - to be all things to all people, but as Aunt Mae said in Spider-Man, "You aren't Superman, you know." Any time you pick up another activity, another interest, another friend, job, lover, whatever, you are drawing from the most finite resource you have, and this should never be done to the detriment of yourself. You have to make sure there is enough you time at the end of the day. Figuring out the things that are most important in your life and making sure your needs are being met are very key to the entire process of living.

A Good Way to Clear the Mind

I had to attend an all day seminar. I enjoy seminars as they help imbue my mind with new and current knowledge regarding the areas of the law I have to deal with every day. However, they can also be quite painful when they are an eight hour barrage of knowledge flowing into your head.

Fortunately, in-between the portions of the seminar that were extremely relevant for me, there were others regarding completely irrelevant topics to me. It was during these times that I would walk out and stare at this gorgeous view.

There are many reasons I have to dislike Florida. However, never being farther than a ten minute drive from my home to a view like this is definitely not one them.

Evaluating Relationships

At one point in my life, a friend conveyed to me something I felt was truly insightful, "Love is an action, not an emotion."*

She went on to explain that she felt people can say that they love you, care about you, appreciate you, or words to that effect, and that those words were great, but if the speaker's actions do not comport with such statements then they really don't mean it. Actions speak much louder than words.

She used the following illustration. Her mother used to say things that hurt and upset her father. Her mom wasn't aware that she was doing it, she merely thought she was talking. When she found out how much it hurt him, she stopped because she loved him and we don't want to hurt those we love and care for. This scenario was similar to times she and I had unwittingly hurt one another. We aren't perfect and we all make mistakes and sometimes people's feelings will get hurt. However, upon recognition of those hurt feelings, amends were quickly made.

I began to think about this and how it applied to so many things in my life, past and present. She was effectively saying something that I had always advocated and believed but in a completely different way than I had ever heard. She always had the ability to shine a new light on an old concept and view things in a way many others had not thought of.

After some further thought, it reminded me of some of the most straightforward advice on relationships I have ever heard. "This advice should go with all your relationships. You should define what you want out of that relationship, not the other way around. If you are not in control of the situation, then you need to be. You should not be forced to hang out with anyone if it is not on mutual terms. Be strong and assertive." This perspective is not easy to impart to others when they most need it, as they often cannot see the forest for the trees. When you get into a situation, it is often hard to gain that detached perspective that is one of the most valuable things in making a healthy decision.

I had a friend in law school who was with someone that truly didn't respect her, and as much as her friends tried to tell her and as many words of wisdom as her therapist provided to her regarding the dangers, she walked further down the path. She was too busy making excuses for him rather than listening to the words of caution and concern coming to her. The most dangerous sign in a relationship, I have found, is when you begin making excuses for the other person's behavior. (This is different from understanding the other person's point of view, but the difference is sometimes difficult to discern in the beginning.)

* I am told that this sentiment can also be found upon a review of the verses in 1 Corinthians 13 (describing what "love is..."). When God defines love, he describes the way a loving person should behave, not the way it should feel.

No, That's Not Just a Line

"You seem so fulfilled and happy."

"I am." It felt weird hearing those words come from my mouth, almost as weird as when she crystallized my feelings into a single statement. I had spent so long looking for the right woman, the right relationship, the right connection. I had spent so much of my time trying to make things work, hoping for people to change, hoping for the light at the end of the tunnel. Battling and fighting, and then, it was done. In the blink of an eye, the cup was removed from me and everything changed.

I now have some really cool and amazing friends that I can talk to and hang out with. I don't have to worry about anything. I get to devote myself to my friends, my career, my volunteering, my hobbies, and anything else I so choose. I don't feel like my life is overrun by anyone because the people I spend my time with are exactly the people I want to spend my time with. I finally seem to be erecting a life for myself where I am that is comfortable for me.

Beyond the concept of being "fulfilled", I still cannot for the life of me explain how I feel and how I have felt for the past week, or how it continues to just get better and better. I cannot explain why it happened when it happened. I cannot explain my overwhelming feeling that all of this is happening with some grand design in mind. I simply remember being at the very end of my rope and asking for help and watching it come more quickly and powerfully than I had ever imagined possible.

"I feel as though I spent too much time working on too many things that I thought I was supposed to have or supposed to want and never took the time to enjoy and savor the things I do have. I never took the time to relish in just being happy. I kept forgetting that I could be happy alone. I would stay single for a little while and quickly forget that I could be happy with just me and no one else and that that was ok."

"Something tells me you won't be alone for very much longer."

"Why not?"

"Because you sound happy and fulfilled and that's usually just about the time some woman comes in to ruin everything."

"Well best of luck to them because I am in absolutely no rush to get involved with anyone."

Lovers and Friends

"For what it's worth, my father used to tell me that it's harder to find a good friend than a girlfriend. I'm pretty sure the man was onto something."

"I never understood my friends that would sacrifice friendships for their significant other. Why would anyone date someone who has a problem with their friends, regardless of the friend's gender or sexual orientation?"

I am often fascinated to hear these statements fall from the mouths of the people in my life that have the most successful relationships. Sometimes I will see people turn their backs on friends with the excuse of, "I'm building my life with this person" or something about how ties with past must be severed - to placate some sort of insecurity their mate has with someone. Sometimes there are mutual insecurities, both people too nervous that they cannot hold onto the other one.

"In my opinion, that's just ridiculous. If you honestly think the person you are with would cheat on you, why the hell are you with them? Not to mention that if you have no reason to think that the two of them are doing anything, then it sounds like it's more your problem than the other person's. If they were to actually placate this need of yours (continuously assuring you that noting is happening or actually severing the friendship) they are only enabling you. In either event, no one should decide whether to end any sort of relationship based upon what other people think or feel. You should base it upon your analysis of whether you are getting what you need out of the relationship."

There must be something to this concept, or something in the water, as my friends seem to be saying similar things on this subject. As I looked at my life in retrospect, I found it very hard to argue. My friends were always there for me, before and after every relationship, during every fight, and at all of the special moments. They were there to keep me on track, guide me when needed, and help turn my days and nights into experiences that I will never forget. They provided me with honesty when the thing I wanted to do most was hide.

I remember I had a girlfriend in college that could not stand that I would go visit other friends of the female persuasion. I'd even invite her along because it was such a big deal to her, but she'd refuse and throw a jealous fit. It was cute in the beginning, but so was Britney. Over time, it became impossible for me to tolerate. I couldn't stand the fact that every time I wanted to hang out with my friends, I had to deal with the same crap.

My belief is that much of this was owing to the fact that we were both young, and perhaps many great follies can be blamed on our youth. I know I made more than my fair share, including my willingness to constantly provide her with reassurances. My hope is that over time she was able to let go of much of that jealousy. However, I question whether that is the case, as I still know so many people my age (and older) caught in the same vicious circle. (In fact, I truly wonder about the potential comments I will get to this post, which is why I hesitated in posting it, but fuck it.) I remember having one friend with a very jealous spouse explain to me, "He thinks I'm sleeping with you. If he only knew the only reason I've stayed together with him this long is because of your ability to talk me down off the ledge."

"In my practice, I see this frequently. We always encourage people to maintain friendships outside of the relationship, as it is so often an important element to a successful relationship. However, people do what they feel they need to at the time."

Shades of Gray

Over the years, things have become less and less black and white for me. There was a time, not too long ago, where I could much more easily lash out at people for just being morons. However, the more I have learned and experienced, the more difficult it becomes for me. This is not to say that I don't still do it. I do. In fact, I do it frequently. And I love to watch others do it, especially when they are able to do it with Comedy - people like Sam Kinison, Lewis Black, Jon Stewart, Steven Colbert, and Carlos Mencia (among many others) amuse me immensely.

Oftentimes, however, I am reduced to thinking of so many things as a matter of perspective. The people with varying religious viewpoints, the people that hate attorneys, the people that battle addictions, and the people that stay in failed relationships, I view with less of a judgmental eye. To an extent, this has always been the case, as I have always tried to look at things from the other person's perspective and understand their point of view; not necessarily agree with them, but at least understand their perspective.

It used to be more difficult for me to accept things as they were. I wanted to fix, improve, and help to change and mold. At times, the entire desire could be just a tiny bit overwhelming. I wanted to shake the girl and tell her to snap out of it, and that he was terrible for her. However, I learned that she is happy enough with him to stay, and that if she truly wasn't, she would leave. I wanted to tell certain religious people that they needed to recognize that they are trying to impose their views upon others, and that mandating beliefs through legislation is not very nice. Now I see that their hearts are often in the right place. I have found that religious differences can be debilitating and can open people up to being judgmental, harsh, and mean. However, the people doing these acts do not consider themselves mean. It's all a matter of perspective.

This doesn't mean that somewhere deep inside of me there isn't often a deep bellowing. A powerful and exacting desire to lash out at certain groups, leaders, and people. To tell them that they have lost their damned minds and need to get over themselves. Many times this message is delivered. However, it's delivery now often emerges with the realistic acceptance that the recipient will likely not hear or understand what I have to say, and that my words have only the slightest chance of having any life altering impact upon them, and that this is ok.

The overarching theme that I have learned is that all you can really ever change is yourself, and all you can ever decide is what is right for you, not for others. The best one can really ever hope for is to plant a seed and hope it grows. Wait and hope, the best advice ever offered by one of my favorite literary characters.

Define Yourself

"You can't just stay home and read. You need to go out," she explained. "It's fine if I don't go out because I'm young but you're old and need to find someone quick." She was searching for the chink in my armor - a place to stab her small dagger and place it gingerly, not wanting to hurt me, merely cause me mild discomfort.

It all related back to a portion of the conversation we had earlier regarding my mental exploration with my trained professional. "You seem to be defining yourself based upon your successes and failures in relationships, and you shouldn't. The people that you have been in relationships with, from what I know of you and from what you've told me, were often either not ready for a relationship to begin with or not good fits for you anyway. You shouldn't gauge the quality of person you are based upon whether or not you have a relationship."

When I tell people I am single, I am greeted by exactly two different reactions - men are envious and women are convinced that I need to immediately settle down. They stare at me with an askance judgmental gaze, attempting to see if they can discern what is wrong with me with their powerful skills of observation, settling on the belief that I just must not really want to settle down if I'm still single, or that I must be a hideously terrible person to be with, and that in either event it is a condition that should be cured as quickly as possible.

Rationally, I know what my therapist is saying is true. One does not have to look very far to see how hard it is for many people to find love. All one need do is take a look at all of the books and articles being published monthly regarding it, or examine the growing number of dating sites being created, with their monster subscription base. People are desperate in their search to find that person - the one they were promised in their childhoods and will do everything in their power to find them.

However, the search would appear to only be half the battle. If one is impressed with the number of materials made available at a slight fee for meeting the right mate, one should be positively awe struck with the number available for those experiencing relationship woes. I saw one of my friends from law school at the court house last week. She informed me that she was now handling divorce matters. The conversation continued and I asked if she was engaged yet. She laughed and said, "Hell no. I don't want to get a divorce."

Despite my knowing that my therapist is correct and that my measure of self-worth cannot be dependent upon my level of success in relationships and love, at times it very easy for me to forget such things, as I am so often surrounded by people that do exactly that. "It is ok if you want to be single for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you are happy with your decision."

Don't Ask; Don't Tell

"Well, she's been sleeping with someone else."

"What!?"

"Yeah. Well actually, the guy she was having an affair with, recently ended it."

"He ended it?!"

"Yeah, but you can't tell her husband about it."

"But he's my best friend."

"Yeah, but she's mine."

"Wow, this is complicated."

Over time, I have known a lot of people that cheated on their significant others. Generally, I have no conflict of interest, as I am friends with only one of them - the one doing the cheating. However, there is the potential for a conflict if ever I am friends with both of the people in the relationship, and I learn that one of them is cheating, or I find out that the other person is cheating on my friend. The scenario is frequent in the movies - where the guy the woman is dating, the one no one can stand, turns out to be cheating on her too.

The question then becomes, "What do you do?"

If you tell your friend, you quite likely will alienate your friend, as they are not likely to believe you, without photograph evidence, or the smoking ... contraceptive, if you will. If you don't tell your friend, you're living a lie and keeping something from your friend, but who may not be your friend if you were to tell. If your friends with both people, it gets even stickier. If you were their attorney, you would simply refer them elsewhere, as you would be conflicted out, but as their friend, you don't necessarily have that luxury.

"Why would she even tell you that? Doesn't she see that it puts you in an incredibly awkward position?"

"I find that many women are not as considerate or as nice as the movies attempt to depict them. Often we are taught to expect and believe that women are simply naturally more considerate and caring. However, I often experience that they simply think this about themselves and frequently miss the mark."

"Yeah, you do have some good stories."

"They're only good when they aren't your life."

Getting Drilled

It's been a while since I blogged. However, nowhere near as long as the last time I saw a dentist.

For many years, I wasn't covered by any insurance, and I could barely afford the mere cost of education, let alone any luxuries like a car or medical insurance. (I actually couldn't even afford a car with air conditioning until after I had gotten my first job after law school, making for some truly interesting interviews.) As such, many of my basic needs went unmet for years. In fact, yesterday was my first time back in a dentist's office in over twelve years. (Mind you, my job does not cover my dental insurance. In fact, I have never worked for a firm that did.)

Overall, he said that my mouth was really impressive for someone that hadn't seen a dentist in so long. However, I still have six cavities! I had only ever had one growing up, and now I suddenly had six! Plus, my memory of my first cavity is not a very pleasant one - as the doctor must have numbed the wrong nerve and I felt every single ounce of pain associated with the entire process. Most unpleasant.

However, my lack of writing has nothing to do with the dentist, and more to do with the fact that I feel like my inner-blogger has been zapped with novacaine. Every time I sit down to write something or even attempt to think of a topic, my mind sits blank. I can't even write in my journal. It's a little ridiculous, and I have no idea what is causing it. All that I know is that it better stop soon because it's driving me absolutely insane.

Loss

"I lost a cat once."

"Oh God."

"I loved that cat."

"You hate cats."

"Can you blame me; it ruined me for all others."

"I can't believe you're drawing this comparison."

"Mark Twain said, 'The Impartial Friend: Death, the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose pity and whose peace and whose refuge are for all--the soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved.'"

"Now Twain knew a thing or two about death, having lost his father-in-law, a family friend, his wife, his son, and two of his three daughters."

"Makes the loss of my cat sound silly."

"It doesn't seem fair that some people have to experience so much loss in their lives while others go on swimmingly. That a man has to watch the majority of his family die before he does or that a new born child loses his mother before he ever gets to know her. Death doesn't just touch the one person but everyone that they have contact with. It's like a blanket with a hole in it."

"No one ever said life was fair."

"My godmother died when I was younger. I suppose that may not be a big deal to some, but I actually loved my godmother, and her death was just so sudden. I had just seen her that morning and she was fine. Later that night she was hospitalized, and a few days later, she was dead. I never even got to say goodbye."

"Perhaps it's not about saying goodbye that's the most important. Maybe it's the enjoying them while they are here that is most important. The memories and experiences that you both shared are things that will pass on into the future, so long as you remember them and share them with others. Sure some people will write amazing things like Tom Sawyer or Symphony No. 9 or have impressive monuments built in their memory. However, for most of us, it is through others' memories of us that we, in a sense, achieve immortality."

"It sucks to have to say goodbye."

"Of course it does, but it would have sucked even more if you had never met that person and enjoyed their company and savored those moments that touched, shaped, and bettered your life. We are all going to die, every single one of us, but that shouldn't mean that we live in fear as a result. Instead, it should inspire us to live every moment of every day as though it could be our last, and to create memories and share times with the people that are closest to us. It is rare that I hear anyone, at the end of their lives, say, 'I wish I had worked more.'"

"It doesn't make us miss any less."

"No, in fact if they have done their job right, you'll miss them all the more, but that also means that you had some amazing times together and that you will carry them with you forever. Through you, they live."

Moving Day

My friend is moving. She's trying to allocate her life to boxes and relocate it to a more suitable geographic location. Unfortunately, her life does not seem to want to fit into her small geometrical containers and seems to be fighting her at every turn, like a cat being placed into a bath. Complicating matters further, she is not convinced that her destination is more suitable, and she is instead being dragged kicking a screaming to the new location.

Our lives begin simply enough - we start out with a room (those of us that have families that can afford us such a degree of space). Our entire lives are contained in that room. However, over time, our room expands, and grows into an apartment, a condo, or a house. Suddenly our lives sprawl about multiple rooms, and we are left wondering both how we got to have so much space and why there isn't enough space for everything.

Unfortunately for my friend, our lives and the things that we accumulate are never quite confined to the room we begin with or its many descendants, as we are more than a collection of items. We are a collection of thoughts, memories, friendships, interactions, and hundreds of other intangibles that cannot and will not be boxed and transplanted like a common potted plant.

We separate from that which we know for that which is unknown, and rarely is the unknown any less scary than where we are. We leave behind the bonds and friendships that we have spent so much time forming, and which we fear we may never experience again. We fear what the future holds and if we will be equipped to handle it, and sometimes more than anything, we sit annoyed at the concept of having to rebuild and begin again, almost with nothing to show for it but all the stuff that's being packed away in boxes. The memories will travel with her, some of the friends will remain in-touch, with emails and phone calls, but the shared experiences and face-to-face interactions will be lacking, and will be missed on all sides.

It reminds me of my best friend in law school who decided that she was going off to study tax law, and as I wished her luck, she stared at me and said, "Oh no you don't; you're coming with me."

Blinded by the Light

A solar eclipse is a rare event indeed but no more rare than when I have every single one of my friends express their excitement and joy at the prospect of me never speaking to another friend again. It makes you start to wonder how much they have been holding back all of that time, and it makes me almost feel sympathy for them, as I have been that person. The person waiting and hoping that the other will wake the hell up and end the madness sooner rather than later.

Something that I have often noticed is that friends do not really dislike these other people for any reason other than the fact that they cause chaos and sadness in your life. If one day the other person woke up, changed and became an entirely different person (which is often what you have been hoping for this whole time anyway, let's face it) and stopped hurting and upsetting you, your friends would likely be hunky dory with them. It is often not the other person that they dislike, but instead, the witnessing of their friend's pain and turmoil that they cannot stand. Often the two are inseparable, however.

No one likes to see their friends or anyone else that they love suffer, and they often wish that they could impart the magic words or advice that will help their friend avoid the accident that they see looming ahead. You can see them sitting there, thinking to themselves, "They should really just take the local roads because the interstate is backed up." Unfortunately, many people often need to drive the routes for themselves to truly understand what is looming ahead, and even some of the greatest words of wisdom will not be fully understood until the person finally gets stuck in traffic. It is an unfortunate state of affairs, as often some of the best advice we are offered, we simply cannot accept in the spirit that it is given.

Sometimes the person attempting to provide this insight and wisdom will become too distracted from their own driving, in their attempt to help another, and will cause an accident of their own. They forget to keep their eyes on the road, and neglect the most crucial advice ever provided. The only thing that we can ever do in these situations is wait and hope. After all, one of those very people that all of my friends hated is now one of my best friends today.

Herman

I probably found this photo entirely too amusing, but this is Herman, the largest bunny I have ever seen in my life.

Checking It Twice

"There's a balance to be struck between your list of qualifications and reality."

"I spent a lot of time constructing my list."

"Yes, I know, and how proud you must be of it too. However, someone else shaped reality and they didn't really give a damn about your stupid list."

"No need to be testy about the whole thing. You want a cookie?"

"Your list is nothing more than a set of criteria you are looking for. You likely will never get someone that satisfies all of it. You really want someone that satisfies the major factors you are looking for."

"How will I -"

"Because the key factors should be the ones that overlap with a best friend. Granted there is more to a romantic relationship than friendship - there needs to be some attraction and passion, but needs and circumstances are going to change over time, and without the basic fundamental things that cement the relationship, which will often be the same things that form the foundation of your closest friendships, the relationship does not stand as good of a chance of actually lasting over time."

"Are you sure you don't want a cookie?"

"Will you forget the damn cookie?"

"I really think you would like the cookie."

*Rolls eyes* "Too often I have found people marry or date for the completely wrong reasons, and then when things go wrong, they just can't understand what happened, and what happened is that they didn't marry their best friend. They married something less than that. Maybe because the other person fit all of these other qualifications that they thought they wanted or needed that week - fat, thin, short, tall, sex, whatever. Granted, these are all things that one might look for in a partner, but they don't outline the basic fundamental ingredients of what they needed."

"It's like making a cookie with no sugar."

"God I pity the woman that ends up with you."

"She doesn't exist."

"What a waste of perfectly good cookie making abilities."

"No kidding."

"You often have emphasized the wrong things, in my opinion, in your pursuit of your next girlfriend. I will grant you that the dating pool sucks quite a bit and that the entire process can, at times, be completely disheartening. However, I think it's important that you keep your priorities in order during the course of your search, and at least form realistic ideas of the different women you will encounter."

"I'm not looking."

"Well then she will find you."

The Wrong Kind of Wrong

She had invited me to meet her for a drink. The thought hadn't seemed like an entirely good idea, as I wasn't sure I had any desire to ever see this person again. It's not that she is a bad person; I just didn't recall particularly enjoying her company, and I knew she wanted to get back together with me (if you can consider a week as "together"). I wasn't convinced that was a good idea. Besides, my day had also been particularly bad and it seemed that this activity could either make it a little bit better of monumentally worse.

So I went. Yes, I know that doesn't seem to make a lot of sense given my logical reasoning. However, I had to go. I had to go because no matter how much some of my friends seem to feel that I'm comfortable not being in a relationship, I'm really not and sometimes (particularly on really bad days) my desire to share my life with someone else becomes particularly heightened. Unfortunately, I'm never able to lower my standards or whore myself out for a drink or six.

I sat down and immediately felt uncomfortable. I didn't want to be there. I knew I didn't want to be there, but somehow I had to find a way to sit there and locate the words to explain to this person that I just wanted to be friends, except I didn't want to be friends. If I'm going to be friends with someone, I have to actually enjoy their company and care about what they think, say, and do. I didn't care about anything coming out of this woman's mouth. I desperately wanted to find a way to disappear - perhaps become invisible and slide out through the door. Maybe she would need to use the restroom and I would be gone before her return.

The more uncomfortable I became, the more I needed a drink because I needed to do something, anything to dull my complete sense of displeasure. It's these encounters more than anything that reaffirm to me exactly what and who I want, and have only the effect of depressing me further as I realize she is not there. Suddenly things become melancholy and a drink seems like the only logical solution (escape). It's also encounters like these that reaffirm to me my newest revelation - there is something worse than not dating anyone - dating the wrong person.

North Korea

Last week, I awoke to the sound of a news report explaining that North Korea had fueled a long range missile and that they may fire it at the United States. If you don't think that's enough to wake me up, you would be mistaken. My immediate thought, other than, should I really go to work given that World War III could be just around the corner was, why the hell isn't this a major news story - why is this the first I'm hearing about it and why haven't I heard about this before the actual fueling of the missile.

When we were gearing up the nation for the war on Iraq, I couldn't go anywhere without hearing people speculate about weapons of mass destruction (WMDs). Now we have a crazy guy with a long range missile, who has stated that he will fire it at the United States, and nothing. Nothing! Eventually, I found some news wires regarding the subject on the Internet, and I learned that our government was going to approach this situation with diplomacy. What?! Since when did we become advocates of diplomacy?

We attacked a country when we didn't even know if they had any weapons it could use against us, and now we want to practice the art of negotiation with a country led by a crazy guy that we are sure has nuclear weapons and that doesn't seem afraid to use them? How arbitrary and illogical is that? Then North Korea fired six or seven missiles the other day and what was the response? People talked about a resolution condemning the action. Are you kidding?

North Korea really has nothing to lose, as it has no real economy other than bombs. So really if it could start a war, business would be booming ... so to speak. The fact that we do not seem to be doing anything other than standing around saying, "Don't do that. Stop. No." seems absolutely crazy to me, given our track record of bombing people that we even suspect of having weapons that could kill us. This is not to say that we should go to war with them. I think war is an incredibly costly endeavor, both with respect to environmental, human, and monetary resources. We could probably get equally good or better results with aid and relief.

Yes, that may sound incredibly stupid - give the crazy bomb people money, the terrorists will have won. However, if the global community recognizes that in certain situations, providing relief to countries that have no real income source other than bomb making and arms trading is a less costly solution, we may actually save lives and money.

Change for Me

"I refuse to date another woman that I care about."

"Oh Jeez. You've lost your mind again. I warned you about doing that."

"I haven't lost my mind. I'm just tired of getting hurt. I think it's better to be with someone I just mildly enjoy than someone I actually love. I seem to perform much better in those relationships."

"You're not letting this one go are you?"

"I think women should all have that Fox Mulder poster hanging in their rooms - 'I Want To Believe'. They all seem to wander around desperately hoping that the man they have fallen for will somehow change, act differently, appreciate them more, stop hitting them, drink less, buy them flowers, spend more time with them, want to do the dishes, etc. Meanwhile the men they find that actually meet these qualifications, just 'aren't a good fit' or are 'too easy'."

"Wow. You even worked an X-Files reference into your theory. This is fantastic. You could become a monk."

"It has always been my experience that all the women I was terrible to stayed with me and kept expecting me to change - to commit to them and them alone, to see some bright spark burning in their eyes and the kind deeds they did and be convinced that I wanted to change and that they were the one for me all along."

"Yeah, but you were too busy pursuing women that didn't do these things, hoping they would see that 'rare spark burning in your eyes'. God, who writes your inner dialogue?"

"We want what we can't have?"

"We all want to feel appreciated and special. Think of the ramifications if a person actually changes for you. How would that make you feel other than God-like? A person totally changed who they were and what they were doing for you? That's such an ego-trip. However, by doing this you are placing your sense of self worth in the hands of another as you seek some intangible approval; some recognition that this person cares. You have somehow neglected to associate caring with a person that actually does all of those things that you wish someone would do. Instead, caring to you has become 'if they change then they love me'. Of course, if they actually change, you'll probably leave and if they don't change, you'll probably leave."

What are you saying?"

"You're no better than most other people out there, but you have one tremendous thing going for you."

"Hmmm?"

"You can change yourself."

I Love Rock and Roll

"What's your name?"

I had been people watching. For on a night such as this, in a place such as I was, that seemed like the right thing to do. (I probably should have brought my camera, but I often only think of such things in retrospect.) There was a competition where women were dancing in their bras to receive the most cheers. There appeared to be a plethora of college students coming back to their small hometown to show each other what they had learned at school. Oh and of course, there was the alcohol flowing, making everyone just a little looser than they already were upon their entry into the establishment.

The woman addressing me now was the second or third in the span of an hour, despite my best efforts to put on an air of aloofness. She had previously been getting more or less attacked by two men likely looking to engage in some sort of physical entertainment by the end of the night, but neither seemed to have found a way behind her defenses. As she caught my eye and uttered her very first words to me, I wondered if she realized she didn't have a chance, and that she would do better to return to her exciting simple times with the two other suitors.

It's not that she wasn't attractive. Clearly, she had earned the affections of a few already, and the boldness she showed in approaching me, asking for my name, and throwing out the line, "You're so attractive; you could be with anyone in here. Why are you standing here alone?" was alluring. However, my mind was elsewhere and my heart was entirely unmoved.