Danny's Tale

"It's time for dinner, Danny!"

"I'm not that hungry."


Well, I guessed I had to let her in. Turn and it'll click, right? At least inside door locks hadn't surpassed me in this technological frenzy. I still knew how they worked.

If there are single verbs that can adequately describe people, Nurse Marshall bustles. She bustles in, she bustles out, she bustles around. I think it keeps her from considering the fact that everybody she takes care of is serving as a preview of what her parents will become in a decade or two.

"Y'know. Used to be a man in the prime of his life could get a little respect. Not have people trying to knock the door in while he's taking a siesta."

"You know Danny, it used to be a man in the prime of his life would leap out a bed at the chance to try Steph's meatloaf. It's his family recipe you know."

Steph's the cheerful, boisterous, bubbley cook in this "Home for the Infirm." I take issue with the name. I'm not infirm. I'm just well aged, like Cheese.

"Bah. I'm not that hungry."

"You're never hungry till you get that first bite in you. C'mon. Do you feel like taking your cane?"

"I don't know. Do you feel like picking me up after I fall on my ass?"

Nurse Marshall means well and she's sweet. No denying that if I were 30 years younger and looking for a relationship that would piss off the handful of backwater hicks still holding out in this South Alabama town, I'd marry that sweet disposition and dark chocolate skin in a second.

"No, I'd rather you felt comfortable going down the stairs, Danny."

Otello. It's not much of a last name. Just a mangling of Othello picked up by one of my ancestors back when people still used words like Quadroon and Mulatto.

I'm not black enough so's most people can tell, but my Dad was black enough to teach me what not to say in church, and how to avoid stepping on the wrong toes. Thankfully most of those toes, and the attitudes they carried around town with them, are dead now. Not that I have much time to enjoy their absence before I follow in their path. But as Mom was always fond of saying, good things come to those who wait, and we waited long enough for the south to realize that it had no good reason to harbour old grudges not worth remembering.

Getting up doesn't hurt like it used to. Doctor's say it's a rare thing, but the arthritis is passing. Fingers are getting limber enough I might even bring out the old Underwood again. I think it's the warmer weather. I fear in the fall, it'll set in proper again, and I'll have my fair share of pain once more.

Sunday, August 29, 2004

Get on the Train

All aboard.

The rest of my life is leaving from the station.

You ever stop and think about a moment as if you were the main character in Sliding Doors?

I mean, at each moment in life, you could let the next 5 seconds determine the entire rest of your existence.

It could be as big a decision as whether or not you ride home with someone who has been drinking, or as small as whether you pause to pick up a piece of trash before getting on the subway.

Riding home with the drinker might get you in an accident that paralyzes you from the waist down. Picking up that piece of trash on the subway may turn into a contact for a long-lost friend or business venture.

And Wham! the random chance fairy (Name: Bernice, Turn ons: Walks on the beach and men who cook. Turn offs: Ear hair) tackles you like a sack of rocks, and off you go in a new direction.

What the hell would be different if I had chosen against the Master's degree? I'd have finished school a year earlier. And my entire life would be different because of it. Right down to the last minutia of my character.

Everything. That's what would be different.

"What if I had followed through?"

"What if I hadn't given up?"

"What if she had just listened to me?"

"Why Me?"

We ask ourselves these questions every day, knowing that each choice has only one outcome and we must live with the consequences of that outcome.

Maybe that's why the "infinite fracturing universes" theory appeals to us all so much. Maybe deep down, we dream that, like some weird perversion of the Butterfly Effect (which I haven't seen) we'll find a way to not travel back in time, but instead skip sideways, to other dimensions where we never got in that fight in fifth grade. Or never got mugged on the subway.

Maybe if we skipped from universe to universe we could find one where we had nice parents, a good life. Where we never got degraded or raped or judged or hated or scorned.

Maybe we would find, that in that perfect life, we didn't turn into happier versions of ourselves.

What if that version of ourselves--the one who never suffered like we suffered--grew up without any empathy or compassion? What if that perfect world without pain was a place where we were incapable of learning to care for others?

Is that why God lets bad things happen to good people?

Maybe that's the secret about all those bad things. If they didn't happen, maybe we wouldn't be good people.

Saturday, August 28, 2004


I got a job!

I'm working at a place in the large town near my smaller hometown. The commute is a bit long, but nothing I haven't done before and can't handle.

I'm getting trained as a server this week, and then getting moved to Bartending probably sometime next week or weekend. It'll probably be all bar work from then on.

I'm excited, of course.

I am a little worried though. I'm going to be working directly across the street from Fresh Market and I've become a bit of a gourmand lately. I fear that much of my tip money will wind up going directly to that particular store. Ohwell. Maybe I should buy stock in the company?

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Back from the 'Fest

I'm back from Louisville.

I aged approximately three decades in the past three days.

I feel fifty. Old, creaky and grumpy.

But maybe that's just the cut hand, bruised sternum and shins, worn out knee and busted lip talking.

I hope they don't ask me what I did over the weekend in my interview tomorrow.

Me: "Er. . . I feel down a flight of stairs?"

Interviewer: "What. . .Twice?"

Monday, August 23, 2004


And now, more news of the weird.

I am going to Louisville. I am going because a group of us from the forums over at Martialarts.about.com have made a tradition of getting together to exchange fresh ideas and concepts and meet one another. It strengthens the communication on the forum, seperates the posers from the pros, and is generally just a fun, honest, enjoyable time.

There will be about 18 hours of driving involved for me, which will be a bit tiring. But I'm taking a lot of books on tape for the interstate portions (IE: most of the trip) so it should make the time pass more quickly.

I'm starting to find promising prospects for a job, I go back for a round of interviews on Monday/Tuesday of next week. Hopefully something will come of one or both of those. We'll see.

I'd really like the bartending position, because of the experience and plus that's just what I enjoy doing.

Plus, I have animals to take care of next week! A Dog, a Cat, and two fish. They're all sweet animals, and it should be fun to take care of them. I'm house-sitting there for 10 days, which should be a fun break from whats going on around here. Plus it means that if I start a job within the next week, I'll be able to commute there easily for the first few days, which would be a real blessing.

In any case, there's a bunch of news about my life. Not what you came for, I know, but I can only be dreary and psychotic so many times a week.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

The Future of Broadband

Ok, I'm going to get really geeky here for a minute (yes, geekier than the last entry, where I mentioned Miyazaki and Jin-Rô).

So, here's the question? Is there a reasonable upper limit for the broadband speed that will be demanded by the American consumer, and are we approaching it?

Because the way I see it, most American's I know stop complaining about load times altogether once they get a stable ADSL or Cable connection. Because at that point their e-mail downloads faster than they can read it, and they can stream 1/4 screen video (like the content at apple.com/trailers) without any buffering or waiting. And pretty much any website they want to view downloads without enough of a delay for them to think of it as an inconvenience.

In Bartending, you've got a 45 second window. That's the length of time that a customer will give you between sitting down at a bar and being acknowledged by the bartender before they start to think he's slow.

So what's the window on a web page loading? 0.1 seconds? 1 second? Once bandwidth overcomes that hurdle so the end user rarely (if ever) feels that his connection is "slow", will it continue to increase?

Why would it?

Now, there are technologies (like movies on demand, etc.) that are pushing the envelope. Demanding more and more bandwidth. But will the Average American actually come to expect Full-screen video on demand? Or will it be supplied to (and eventually forced upon) him as Recording companies realize how much cheaper publishing becomes?

And what about once we reach the point where full screen hi definition video is deliverable at streaming rates?

Will Broadband widen at all after that time? Will it need to?

Will the Average American always demand more bandwidth? Why would he after his needs have been satiated? What is the next killer app that's going to be so bandwidth thirsty that it will push the limits after full screen hi-definition video is reliable? Is there one?

We'll see, I guess.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Treasure Planet

I just saw two movies, the Rock (an old favorite. One of the few Jerry Bruckheimer films I enjoy and find infinitely quotable) and Treasure Planet.

The Rock will be covered perhaps some other day. Especially a quote I like (that I'm mangling): "Hoping that there is something left to hope for."

But right now, I'm going to talk about Treasure Planet.

I'm going to talk about it on three levels, because I appreciated it on three levels.

First, the Dialogue writers were good. Not great, but better than average. Good jokes, solid follow-through, good thoughts brought to life in believable, convincing conversation full of personality and life. Rare in a childrens film, esp. the more recent Disney drivel I've seen.

Second, the characters themselves were authentic. Silver's obsession and turncoat attitude, Hawkins' drive to succeed and live a life worth living, Hawkin's need for a father.

In particular, there was a montage of memories near the middle of the film, which includes a sequence where Hawkins watches Silver demonstrating how to cast off a longboat as he's going to run some errand. Hawkins has a flashback and discovers that he's watching a young version of himself desperately chase his father down the dock as his father is leaving them. It's a moment filled with drama and pain, and we are brought back to the present by Hawkins' realizing that Silver has doubled back and asked him to come along on the errand.

Suddenly his new mentor has recognized his fear of isolation, and his need to be welcomed and accepted by a man that he respects, and he has reached out to fill that role. It's a powerful scene that would speak volumes to some of the people I know. Heck, it speaks volumes to me, if only indirectly through my knowledge of the struggles that others have endured.

Third, the movie is visually pristine. The toy designer who built the concepts for the weapons, devices, vehicles, and other gear in the film was brilliant, both inventive and artistic without losing the overal authentic flair the movie was going for. Simultaneously it's the best animation that Disney has done since the Lion King. It's detailed, vivid, and it has a lot of depth and fantastic use of dynamic light and 3 dimensional realism.

If I were asked to assemble the 'A list' of the top animated movies I've seen that should get in based on merit as films and as artistic endeavours, this movie would sit in between Hayao Miyazaki's original and beautiful Nausicaä of the Valley of the Winds and Hiroyuki Okiura's heartrending and stunningly masterful Jin-Rô: The Wolf Brigade.

Yes, visually it is that good.

And now, I'm off to write. I've got some new thoughts about a new direction in which I want to take this book idea.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Friends, Defensiveness, Anger, and Lies.

So I mentioned yesterday, I started writing a book. Actually, I picked up about a page of text that I had hashed out last week sometime and started going somewhere with it.

Yesterday I took about 1700 characters and turned them into 40,000 characters in the span of about 8 hours of writing time.

It's the very early beginnings of a novel about the future of mankind, and life on this plant, and on another.

I think it might actually be good.

Maybe I'll post some excerpts from it here sometime, but I doubt it.

In the meantime, here are some other musings.

Is it ok to, on an intellectual level, disaprove of someone's actions, while on an emotional level not minding them at all?

Say that you got to a party with a friend. Now, in the past, the relatiosnhip has been rocky, some good days, some bad days. At the party, the friend makes a funny joke at your expense that other people at the party find humorous, moreso because they don't know the whole story.

Now, lets say that you personally don't mind the joke, or the insult that you wind up having to field, because getting offended about these sorts of things just isn't your bag.

But, on an intellectual level you recognize that you'd never be so impolite as to do something like this to one of your friends, and if you were the parent raising a child that did something like this, you'd explain to them that you felt it was innapropriate.

Now you've got a quandry, don't you?

I mean, you're not angry about the situation. You're not offended. You've got no personal reason to buttonhole your friend after the party, in private, and correct that person for mistreating you, because you aren't really bothered. But on a professional, human level, do you have an obligation to express your disapproval to your friend in order to let them realize that what was done was (in your eyes) wrong?

But what happens if the person comes to you later and says "Hey, man, I totally didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable at that party."

I mean, you know that friend meant to make you feel bad, maybe not as bad as it was, in the end, but pretty bad, because that person wanted the crowd's approval.

So what do you say to day? "Oh, hey man, it's no big deal, I didn't even notice." That's bullshit, because of course you noticed.

But instead should you turn around and say "Well, yeah, you did. I don't mind, and I'm not angry, but be honest--you did make the joke at my expense intentionally."?

And then what happens when the friend gets defensive and thinks that the point should be argued and gets in your face about it? And of course this person will dredge up all of your past sins to justify the position taken.

This happened to me recently (the situation, of course, isn't exactly as listed above) but I did what I usually do, I called it like I saw it, and of course, the friend got angry with me, and now probably thinks I'm an asshole.

(sigh). I'm sorry, friend. I didn't mean to offend you, but I'm not going to continue to be a pushover. Either stick up for me, or don't. It doesn't make me angry when you don't. But don't lie to me about it. That is the part that bothers me.

Monday, August 16, 2004

I turned a corner today.

Last night, (well, early this morning), I watched High Fidelity.

And for some reason, despite the fact that it doesn't really speak to any of my current issues. . . it spoke to all of them, and I realized it was going to be ok.

I'm writing a book. I have nearly boundless energy. I told my mother this morning that she had been disrespectful to me last week, and didn't get caught up in her quibbling when she wanted to make an issue of it.

I have an uncle who wrote a book.

In that book, he says some great stuff. And one of the things he says is that he never wants one of his subordinates to walk into his office and tell him about a mistake they made or a way they failed unless they can also explain to him something that they could have done differently to have improved the situation.

It's not a way of fixing things, it's a way of recognizing personal responsibility.

So, in light of this fact, and the fact that I just watched a movie about top five lists:

The Top Five things I Should have Done Differently:

1. I shouldn't have started the relationship with M. I could see it coming from a mile away and it was a mistake. I should have known better.

2. I should never have started kissing L. It didn't matter that I loved her, kissing changed our entire relationship, in a unique and fantastic way, but it changed it for the worse, because I didn't choose to make that change at a wise or responsible time, I made it in the heat of the moment.

3. I should have been honest with L about what bothered me in the fall, esp. in the early days of our return to school. I let a lot of things slip by because I felt that I would sound overly critical if I brought them up, but every new story was another painful event for me that drove me further into my shell.

4. I should never have let a project turn into a relationship. It was a stupid decision and I must have known that in the end things would never improve as long as I was around. Nobody makes the kinds of leaps that she needed to make when they've got somebody like me looking over their shoulder.

5. I shouldn't have resisted. See the previous post. She loved me and that's what I never quite gave into. Had I given in, things would have been improved.

So there it is. The top five things I did wrong that should have been done differently on my part. Now I can walk into the office in my head and say to myself "I made a mistake."

Sunday, August 15, 2004

Walking Away From You

Apologies to Relient K..


When I made up my mind,
and my heart along with that,
to walk away from you,
and yet move on,

somebody said
"Do you, know what you, are finally giving into?"

When I finally ironed out,
all of my priorities
and asked God to remove the weight
that kept me here begging please
things I asked myself
I asked myself
Do you know what you, are finally giving into?

I'm walking away from you,
because you gave up on me,
in a life we left behind.
I'm walking away from you,
because I've got to be
just one more one man guy
But I'll love you all my life.

When you looked at me and said
"I cannot talk of love with you"
for one second, our eyes met,
and I was sure that it was true,
But do you, know what you, are finally giving into?

I'm walking away from you,
because you gave up on me,
in a life we left behind.
I'm walking away from you,
because I've got to be
just one more one man guy
But I'll love you all my life.

I've been a liar,
and I'll never amount to
the kind of person you deserve to marry you
you say you can't help but dwell on what I did,
and we'll never make it through
you say

"I loved you, and that's what you never quite gave into."

I'm walking away from you,
because you gave up on me,
in a life we left behind.
I'm walking away from you,
because I've got to be
just one more one man guy
But I'll love you all my life.

I'm walking away from you,
because you gave up on me,
in a life we left behind.
I'm walking away from you,
because I've got to be
just one more one man guy
But I'll love you all my life.

I say: I loved you, and that's what you, never quite gave into.

Friday, August 13, 2004

Name Dropping II

So last night, driving back from Columbus, I talked with my mother about my theory on Name Dropping.

She said that she didn't think women did this, at least not as a competitive 'pecking-order' establishment system like men (in specific, geeks) do. She said she didn't want to assert that women didn't have a pecking order, just that it wasn't established the same way.

I'll buy that.

It does make me curious though. I mean, men's natures automatically make them highly (visibly) competitive, and we're comfortable with it and talk about it.

But the women I know are equally competitive in their own way, but I think most would be genuinely offended if you actually told them that they were.

A random thought: What is it about highschool and college girls and visible territory marking?

I've noticed this in more than one relationship that I've been in (or that my friends have been in), the girl (especially ones with a creative bent and some sort of artistic interest) develops a strong interest in writing on her boyfriend. Generally hands, arms, etc, during 'down time' when nothing else is happening. The things may range from the obviously possesive (her name) to the completely innocuous (a random phrase they share, a cartoon animal, etc.) but it seems that the girl is always intent on leaving her mark in such a way that she knows that you are hers.

Another method is the 'given' picture. They'll give you a good picture of themselves and then expect you to place it somewhere in your living space (desk, bedside, whatever) as a mark of their presence on your lives that is visible to any of your visitors.

It's a method they use of controlling the flow of the relationship, of reassuring themselves that you are their possession. And if you refuse, you will be nagged or needled endlessly about it, in most cases.

What is it's purpose? It seems just a newer, more socially acceptable way of marking turf. In the process, of course, you limit your relationship to one of possession, rather than one of mutual respect and trust. . . but by that measure, none of the girls I've known have trusted me. Even in the early days of our relationships.

For some reason it doesn't surprise me to realize that. But I think that it's going to become one of the cornerstones of my evaluation of future relationships--whether or not she's interested in marking me as a possession. I think it's another thing that's going to keep me single for a long time. Because I can't fathom finding a girl mature enough to leave well enough alone. At least not around here.

Am I losing faith, or just growing old?

Is there a difference?

Name Dropping

Name Dropping is a funny thing.

I sat at a table Sunday night, and name dropped Anime series with a girl who is returning to her third year at USA in a week or two. She's part of the anime club down there, and so we got to talking about series she had and hadn't seen.

Ok, what about Trigun?
Well, only a little, I didn't like it. But I started in the middle. Have you seen EVA? Neon Genesi-
[making face] Yeah, I've seen Eva. I hated it.
Oh, why?
Have you seen the end? Lots of wasted potential.
Oh, I haven't seen the end, or the movies, yet. [shamed look] I do have most of Chobits though.
[Laughing]. Ah, well, I'll forgive you if you've seen any Kodomo no Omocha - Child's Toy.
No, I haven't heard of it. What about Grave of the Fireflies?
I've been told to see it, but I haven't yet. Cowboy Bebop?
A little on Adult Swim.
The sub is better. But. . .of course. . .
. . .Yeah. . .
[in unison] the sub is always better!

So anyway, it got me thinking about humanity, and our habit of name dropping. What is that about?

It's important to us, not just to know the right people/places/phenomena, but to make sure that other, third parties know that we know these things. For some reason, much of modern human social standing--who you look up to, who you look down on--is based on what they know, and how much of it they know. It's no longer a question or power or money, it's a question of information.

Are we finally moving into the information age? Will all the posturing in this century be based not on industrial prowess or economic success but on the simple equation of who knows the most about the topic they choose to call their own?

Across cultures in America we ridicule geeks. Anyone who expresses too much interest in a topic, is too 'into' the minute details of that topic, is considered a loser, a geek. Jaded uncaring indifference is praised, in the broad spectrums of society.

But in the niches, in the real interests, in the Anime clubs, and the Sci Fi Conventions, Programming Teams, and the Elite Indie Music Scene, the people who are respected, admired, and deffered to are those who know the most. Those who make the minute details--(how many Episodes of Ranma were there? What does the T in James T. Kirk stand for? What is the correct way to initialize a stack class? When was Radiohead formed?)--are the ones who are quietly left alone, and considered to be the 'most-true' in that subcategory.

And so American culture creates an interesting dual socialogical demand. . .know everything about the subculture you call your own, but in public, reveal none of this knowledge, instead relying on calloused indifference to glide through any social function, until you run into another of your own kind, and then unleash your knowledge in a name dropping skirmish in which one of you will quietly be determined the victor.

Think Name dropping serves a different purpose? Drop me a note, and tell me your thoughts.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

The Pound a Week Rise

"And it's down you go, Jack."

So I was planning to go job hunting today, and the sky just cleared, so I'm going to go soon. Right now, I'm cleaning and doing laundry (and I cook too, ladies. Hard to believe, isn't it?).

Lately I've been noticing that I'm vulnerable to depression. This surprises me, because I'm not usually the type that fights with those sorts of things. I think it is because I'm normally too busy advancing to look around.

Now I'm starting to look around and realize how messed up things have been for me for the last 12 months or so.

How do you say your sorry to yourself? For that matter, how do you accept your own apology?

I very nearly became an icarus, burned out on wings of ambition and intellect, destroyed by my own plans and desires.

But it is just as dangerous to fall too low as it is to fly too high, and I have no interest in running myself into the ground.

So what now? What next?

I look out a window beaded with raindrops and think of all the moments that could have slipped me by. Did I seize the day, or did I simply follow my instincts one step too far?

"Love is a ghost train, rumbling through the darkness.
Hold on to me, Darlin', I've got nowhere else to go."
- Counting Crows

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

New Title

New Title, New Phase, New Life.

[Hindsight-o-matic: Old title was "The Violin can be the most painful sound in the World" The New Title became "Twenty-one going on Fourty"]

I'm going job hunting tomorrow. The Airport needs a bartender, so that might be the first place I apply.

I saw Collateral last night. It is an amazing film. Incredible character acting and strong visual artistry. The central characters of the movie intrigue me. They seem like the most extreme alter egos of myself that I might one day become.

One, Max, the Taxi Driver with the long term plans that never get off the ground, 12 years in the same job, always thinking he can't go for his dream until it is perfect. The other, Vincent, the coldblooded killer whose emotional detachment allows him to be brilliant at his chosen profession, yet it seems that his enjoyment is drawn from the chaos of his vocation and not any real passion for the job itself.

I could become a Max, if I do not drive myself to become more than I currently seem to be. I could become a Vincent, if I let myself get so disconnected from the humanity that surrounds me that I stop letting other people matter to me.

I saw it with three girls that I have known for many years. All good kids, younger than me by a range of 4 months to 5 years. The fact that they are sisters, and yet one looks Italian, one looks Irish, and one looks Persian is interesting, and makes them three cool people to hang out with. And yet, they are so young, even the one that is only 4 months behind me. It's like looking backwards across the spectrum of my existence when I engage them in conversation. I can see myself, my progression, and even my aging, when I listen to their lives.

They're good kids. I pray they never need deal with the things that I have dealt with in the last 12 months. It is years like the last one that make Vincents out of men like me.

But I don't want to be a Vincent.

Monday, August 09, 2004

Building upon the Sands of Love

Second entry of the day.

For news, see the previous one.

Last night, I thought about the changing and advancing of time.

And I thought about us. And about others. And about all the stupid stuff I've done in my life that I regret.

And I listened to a girl who thinks she's a woman explain that she has finally come to realize that she isn't in love with me (editor's note: "Hurrah! Finally, we appear to be on the same page!"). And it got me to thinking.

It seems that so many people are so willing to try to be in love, in order to fulfill their need to love and be loved.

It seems people often want to expand on a pre-existing relationship and make it something more than it is. Or act upon a foundation that is not yet reasonably formed.

It's like building your house on the sand, all over again. I've been guilty of it myself. Anyone who starts a relationship with an old friend just after they have broken up with someone else is building on sand. People who mistake kindness and caring for love are building upon sand. People who decide that "A relationship with this person would be amazingly convenient, and should therefor be embarked upon" are building upon sand.

Why do we build on sand? What makes us so desperate to enter relationships that we willingly cast aside the caution and intelligence we would have used in any other situation (vocational, academic, etc.) when it comes time to consider romance?

What makes romantics into such fools? If love makes all men fools, what is its purpose?

I love. I am tired of love. I am tired by love. I love.

And they all say the pain will numb in time.

Friday, August 06, 2004

News from Bartending

I'm going to post two messages. The first is newsy and practical, since I know some of you actually read this because you know me and don't mind knowing what is going on.

I'm done with the Bartending course.

Final Grades:

96.5% on the written.

And passing on the Practical (12 drinks out of 15, with three mistakes and one bad habit).

Now I just have to go home, and find a job, and move on with my life.

Oh, and I bought a suit coat for $14.99 at the Salvation army. I'm happy with it.

Going to Birmingham

I'm going to Birmingham.

In particular, I'm going to take a class at a school there.

I'll be gone until Saturday, and I will miss you all. Garrison Starr is playing, and I might try and go see her. So is Dexter Freebish, but I'm not sure I'll be able to get to that show (although I'd love to, especially since Brother Henry is opening for them. Brother Henry is hard for me to relate to. . .It is a sortof acousti-pop-country--but what's not to love about twin brothers who sing harmony?) There's just something cool about that. We'll see if I get to go or not. If I do, expect a full rundown on any shows I get to attend right here.

Anyway. There's a Library near where I'm staying, so hopefully I'll be able to head by there on my lunch break and post updates to this. I'd hate to leave this dormant for a week.

When I get back I start looking for jobs. It'll be nice to be working again. The last two months have been too much travel and too little effort.

The next month is going to be hard. But rewarding, I hope, in the long run.

Maybe. Lately Nostalgia is getting the best of me. Maybe I am more afraid of death than I thought? It is always easy to nod and smile when it happens to others. . .and then it happens to you.

Sunday, August 01, 2004