printable New Year's resolution:

** read more books that don't have the words "for dummies" in their titles
** save money
** gain ten pounds (of not-fat, hopefully) by year's end

....thinks that friends who gather at these New Year’s celebrations are all struggling for perfection in life and art: “They are torn between their roots in whatever far-flung suburb they hail from and their reinvented lives among their city family,” he said.

Or, as Tobin Levy, another Bushwick Avenue friend, suggests, the motivation may be less profound. “What this is about,’’ she said, “is friends who don’t care what you do for a living or if you are a great success. Everyone has to pay the rent. These parties are just about the people you want to be near on the last day of the year.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/12/29/nyregion/29FEAT.html

Alas, the secret is out!

http://msnbc.com/news/825053.asp

yay! i'm not as a bad a son as i thought; or rather, i'm not the only bad son.

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/12/23/national/23HOLI.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/12/22/fashion/22NOTI.html

I'm thinking, watching 15 episodes of SATC in 29 hours as a straight man isn't really "the next best thing to actually dating." It's kinda far off. Far...far....far....off. Ha ha. Just kidding. But if you're enjoying it, I say, 'what the hell?'

Made a call to the BananaRepublic.com people tonight. I ordered some stuff last night but haven't as of yet gotten an email confirmation of my order within the 24 hours the site promised. I checked my credit card debits online and noticed that they took the money already. Where the hell are my clothes?!

"Josh" picked up. I asked for the status of the order and he said it was getting ready to ship. Since I ordered a good number of articles of clothing, I wanted to find out if all of them were getting shipped at the same time. He asked that if I could wait a second, he would bring it up on the computer. (How come they always say the "computer is running a little slow tonight" when things take longer than they'd like. Are the representatives afraid of silence? I want to confront them one of these days and ask them to just chat while we wait. What's the rush?). Anyway, he took his time getting it up. And all the while, I had this feeling he was judging my order selection. He was scanning the choice of apparel, the size and color. He was basically sizing me up on the phone. And of course, the guy was gay (and worked at BR) so I do feel a little underqualified to challenge his tastes were he to disagree with mine.

I was channel surfing at 12:30 in the morning and ran across Xtreme Dating. I usually pass it but there was an Asian guy speaking. I was thinking "represent!" Dude was Korean though, but close enough. Anyway, the point of this story is not his sorry schpeel at the beginning but this show brings two ex's to the backstage to be able to tell the date stuff about him in her ear via a microphone. Their date is videotaped (obviously). The woman he's going on a date with is not Asian. But his two ex's were. Their names? Pearl and Mei !!!! How racist! They weren't FOB's or anything but come on! They could have pretended and chosen regular names knowing they are going to be on TV.

The Hip Hoptionary: The Dictionary of Hip Hop Terminology by Alonzo Westbrook

Three things:

1. if we used this to play speed scrabble, i'd school all you fools.
2. entry for "ain't no shame in my game" - "statement of confidence while doing what could be perceived as a shameful act, i.e., having sex with a married man"
3. both #2 and the dictionary itself remind me of ms. hurh (in line with her baby T that says "bling bling")

It's always interesting when a straight man asks "what did you get at Banana Republic?" when they see the shopping bag. It makes me think....

A guy from India is working for me as a project manager for several of the implementations of my product. Last name Ranganayagalu. First name, longer than that. I need him to speak clearer English! Every time he calls for information (and he calls a lot because bureaucracy at my firm is heinous), I need to stop everything, press the phone as close as possible to my ear, use my finger to plug the other ear, just to understand him. It's the accent; it's the speed (fast but unintelligible due to the first thing); it's the volume (low). Am I just being a total racist or do I have high standards of quality for those who work for me? (hint: not the latter).

I've made so many enemies at my job that the sea of cubicles is not enough for me to hide in. I make a left onto the main hallway and see someone ahead of me who's going to the elevators I will take so I make a sharp right, only to see someone I also want to avoid walking across a perpendicular hallway. They're not enemies, really. They're more like people I'd rather avoid. They bug me; I bug them. I really just don't want any contact, visual or otherwise.

I love the movie Office Space!

How come there's no backlash against J. Lo for filming her "Jenny from the Block" video in front of the Beverly Hills Hotel?! That is so NOT the block Jenny came from!

Homo Homini Lupus - and it's because I don't believe in that which makes me a poor businessman.

I think I'm bipolar.




No, I'm not.

Today, I'm officially the victim of my first credit fraud experience.

I get this letter from some collections agency last week indicating I owe $1600+ to SprintPCS. Doesn't say why but I have to pay this agency within 30 days. I finally called and inquired and was told that I was a victim of credit fraud. The guy asked whether I ever lived on Corzine Street in Brooklyn. I said no and he believed me. Of course he did. I didn't lie.

I wonder what happened? Did they clone my phone? Despite losing my wallet several times in the three years I've been in New York, I still have both of the cell phones I've ever owned. Did they use my name and address? OK. At the start of this blog, I thought this was pretty funny. Now I'm wondering how much my name and identity owe to organizations nationwide. I really should check out my credit report. Well, I didn't really want to buy a house, or a car, or apply for another credit card, or grad school loans anyway.

Dear Ann,

A long time ago, you printed a terrific definition of success. It made a huge impression on me. Would you please print it again, and this time, I promise to clip it and put it in a safe place.Ohio Fan

With pleasure. This definition was written in 1904 by Bessie Anderson Stanley. It is one of my favorites:

SUCCESS

By Bessie Anderson Stanley

He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much; who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem or a rescued soul; who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction.

Worst Marital Luck

Edgar Bronfman Sr. and Georgina Webb: Edgar Bronfman Sr. may possess a billion-dollar business brain and a thoughtful, charitable soul, but in affairs of the heart the liquor baron has been a serial loser.

Bronfman's marriage to his second wife, Lady Carolyn Townsend, in 1973 lasted less than a year and was followed by a high-profile messy divorce proceeding. The case reportedly included testimony that the British noblewoman had spent her wedding night with another man.

Bronfman also holds the distinction of being the only billionaire to marry (and divorce) the same woman twice. Georgina Webb was a 25-year-old barmaid in an English pub when Bronfman, then aged 45, married her for the first time. The two split up in 1983, only to remarry in 1984, and divorced again a few years later.

Bronfman sired two daughters with Webb before the second breakup. Bronfman, who now owns a large chunk of the struggling French conglomerate Vivendi, admitted to his issues with matrimony in a 1989 Newsday interview: "Marriage is an institution, and if you like living in an institution, well then go right ahead."

http://www.abcnews.go.com/sections/business/DailyNews/forbes_divorce_021011.html

It took three divorces to realize the truth in that last sentence? Well, at least he's rich.

Is there a cure for laziness?

Is grabbing a particular section of the newspaper first a good indication of what one's truly interested in?

Saw "My Big Fat Greek Wedding."

I don't know why I was so naive. For a little bit, I actually thought that I was making decisions at my work that affected change, that I was doing something important. Now I'm realizing I'm just a pawn, a drone. In addition to being a MW, I'm also just a CW too.

I thought I was smarter than to realize it now. What was I thinking?

I was listening to music last night and I've realized why I like R&B/hip-hop more than I like rock 'n roll (well, the singer/songwriter type of rock 'n roll). It's because the former is more fun and latter is so much more sad. And yesterday, I wanted to wallow in my sorrow and disappointment so I listened to the latter more. And then I wanted a change of pace and put on some hip-hop, but since I wasn't really looking to feel better, I turned it off. Self-pity is such a fun thing.

I knew there was a reason I liked Hemingway:


"WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?", AS RESPONDED TO BY:

GEORGE W. BUSH: I don't think I should have to answer that question.

AL GORE I invented the chicken. I invented the road. Therefore, the chicken crossing the road represented the application of these two different functions of government in a new, reinvented way designed to bring greater services to the American people.

RALPH NADER: The chicken's habitat on the original side of the road had been polluted by unchecked industrialist greed. The chicken did not reach the unspoiled
habitat on the other side of the road because it was crushed by the wheels of a gas-guzzling SUV.

PAT BUCHANAN: To steal a job from a decent, hardworking American.

RUSH LIMBAUGH: I don't know why the chicken crossed the road, but I'll bet it was getting a government grant to cross the road, and I'll bet someone out there is
already forming a support group to help chickens with crossing-the-road syndrome. Can you believe this? How much more of this can real Americans take? Chickens crossing the road paid for by their tax dollars, and when I say tax dollars, I'm talking about your money, money the government took from you to build roads for chickens to cross.

MARTHA STEWART: If the chicken crossed the road on my property, I would be fully justified in blocking its exit until the local authorities could arrive to arrest it
for trespassing. I am a private person and should not have to be subjected to the "innocent mistakes" of common chickens.

JERRY FALWELL: Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the " other
side. "That's what "they" call it - the "other side." Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other side."

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die. In the rain. Alone.

MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.

GRANDPA: In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed The road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.

BARBARA WALTERS: Isn't that interesting? In a few moments we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heartwarming story of how it overcame a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.

ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

KARL MARX: It was a historical inevitability.

SADDAM HUSSEIN: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.

VOLTAIRE: I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will defend to the death its right to do it.

RONALD REAGAN: What chicken?

KEN STARR: I intend to prove that the chicken crossed the road at the behest of the President of the United States of America in an effort to distract law enforcement officials and the American public from the criminal wrongdoing our highest elected official has been trying to cover up. As a result, the chicken is just another pawn in the president's ongoing and elaborate scheme to obstruct justice and undermine the rule of law. For that reason, my staff intends to offer the chicken unconditional immunity provided he cooperates fully with our investigation. Furthermore, the chicken will not be permitted to reach the other side of the road until our investigation and any Congressional follow-up investigations have been completed.

FOX MULDER: You saw it cross the road with your own eyes! How Many more chickens have to cross before you believe it?

FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2003, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook---and Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.

EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?

BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What Do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken please?

THE BIBLE: And God came down from the heavens, and He said Unto the chicken," Thou shalt cross the road" And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.

COLONEL SANDERS: I missed one?

Wedding thoughts from this weekend:
Good, short; people my age are still committing to one another their lifelong devotion and love. Wow! I can't even commit to taking my contacts out every day. I stood there watching the groom repeat after the minister, "...and I, take you to be my wife..." and I'm like, whoa! Who's up there? What movie am I watching? Are these people ones I know? It's so real but not, at the same time. And then I leave to come back to New York and I don't see them for a while and it passes and I now shift these people from the single column to the married one and then it's not so bad.

The rest of the weekend:
I told him so. Heh heh.
But somehow it's comforting to know that things don't work out for others too. That's awful to think, admit and broadcast, but I just did.

On Monday night, I watched that American Idol special in Las Vegas. I have to admit (very readily actually) that it was so entertaining. The top 10 (well, top 5 or 6) of the contestants were truly and really talented. And any of them would have held onto the title of American Idol well and deservedly. And then the "machine" went to work. I turned to MTV last night, saw the "Making of" show of Kelly Clarkson's video for her SECOND single. They're making a "Driven" episode of her on VH1. Her single is out already. I'm listening to Z100 right now and her song just came on. Her CD is in the works coming out in the Spring. And the next American Idol auditions are being held within the next month. (New York City is October 24).

So, I sat there (well, actually I was ironing) and listened and watched and I had fun. They looked a little nervous and they couldn't really remember all the lyrics to the many songs they had to sing that is waaay ahead of their time. They're so young too. But I'm sure they had a thrill doing it. And I'm happy for them. I think a little while ago, I wouldn't have been. I would've been jealous that they get their 7 minutes of fame and I'm sitting at home, ironing my shirts. But they are good. And there sooooo many more people who'll continue to wait tables or farm or program or teach or whatever who are even better than they are and who will never get discovered. So, since I suck (but that's OK), I really don't have anything to complain about.

So, I visited a farm this weekend. A real-life, people do this day-in-and-day-out, big family with lots of cousins and uncles and aunts who do this work, driving trucks and combines and fixing augers type of farm. And life there is...uncomplicated. It's not simple. I don't want to use that word because I don't think it's the right one to describe life there. It's just not complicated. People have their families (both immediate and extended). They have their church, their homes, their fields (both for growing things and for playing). At the end of a hard day's work, they come home, eat together, do a family thing together and go to sleep. In essence, that's what my day is like. Why do I feel the need to seek out volunteer opportunities or personal "ministries" which I think will enrich my life? Why do I bring my work's troubles into my home? Why must I create activities for myself to feel that I belong in this town?

And you know what? I think the movie Sweet Home Alabama with Reese Witherspoon will answer all of these questions and explain to me what to do with the rest of my life.

I'm helping out with my college friends' wedding next week. And this week, we got our Excel spreadsheet (hour-by-hour timeline) and Word document (roles and responsibilities description). So, I look at who I'll be "working" with and recognize some names but they weren't my friends, per se, during college. So, I'm noticing their work and grad school email addresses. So, people have moved onto and into jobs that they wanted. They're going to business school or medical school or law school or whatever PhD program that I'll never get to. And I'm just ashamed and sad. I mean, they're doing other (bigger and better) things. Actually, I'm not ashamed or sad. I'm just jealous. That's all.

singing their song...mel and josh (video with sound)

get the driver or whatever here.

Unzip onto desktop. Simply click with the right mouse-button on the provided "mcmjpeg.inf" file and select the install option. Then just delete the two files that you saved.

Carried two bags of groceries 6 blocks from the store to my apartment yesterday. Today, sore. Sad. Very sad.

Two words I learned today:

peccadillo - thought it was a cousin of the armadillo
boilerplate - thought it was like a bunsen burner or hot plate

** QUESTION OF THE WEEK ** (from Small Group)
Think about your closest friend right now. Why do you think you guys are so close? Describe what characteristics in yourself and in that friend help that closeness to develop. (for example: we're close because we both love blasphemy closets and can talk on and on about them)


Answer:
My closest friend and I share the same sense of humor. We'd make fun of the same people. We share history from our back-in-the-day days. But leading different lives now allows us to have new stories to share. We're independent people so we don't have to share those stories as soon as they happen. We're both prideful people so that when we fought, we didn't speak to each other for a year. But we're also smart people so we didn't let stupid fights break up our friendship.

In my case, my friend and I share the same characteristics, so it's not an 'opposites attract' situation. I believe that 'likes attracts.' Granted, my friend and I are vastly different in many significant (superficial and spiritual) ways but I believe our temperaments are the same. And that allows us to not get on each other's nerves about the different things that we like, the different lives that we lead, the different futures we'll have, and the different people we are.

MH: What do you mean people don't read? I go all the time just to find an old post. I just don't respond via this blog. I'd rather email.

So, I think I had a chance to move to California in the very near future for this consultant type job. I'm not sure that I would have gotten it but it was pretty simple work. I applied to the job in order to humor my friend. I wasn't about to really move and lying through my teeth to the phone interviewer saying the opposite showed that I really didn't want to move. No "so what" qualifiers to this paragraph. Just wanted to share.

Had dinner with friends from work. One of them quit the firm earlier in the year, went to Germany to do some anthropological dig with some students. The four of us got to talking about our inability to process and comprehend new ideas, new lessons. The guy who spent the summer in Germany said that after two months there, he felt smarter, not because he learned more to put in his brain, but because excess junk has been forgotten out of it. That's what I need! Two months to let excess junk be forgotten.

"The secret of joy in work is contained in one word - excellence. To know how to do something well is to enjoy it." -- Pearl Buck

I wrote the most recent blog at 2 in the morning so when I was saying that my mind was cluttered, it was also tired. That statement is still true. So, when I woke up this afternoon, took a look at my room and realized my room is cluttered too. So, my personal physical space is cluttered. I have too much junk, as demonstrated every single time I've moved apartments. But what do you get rid of? I have boxes of pictures? Do I throw those away? Of course not, right? I keep letters, for the most part. I just have little things that add up: boxes for my watches, storage unit for computer discs, stationery, cables or accessory pieces for my electronic gadgets, programs from Broadway shows, favors from weddings.

So, how am I expected to fit all of these things into a Maxima and drive off into a new chapter? Who would I leave all this to for storage and fly off to China? The thought itself would make me reconsider a move. I know that would be just a small portion of my consideration to do something about my life. But I act (or don't act) on the immediate but think in the future (or the past). And I think that should change.

I realize that my life is...cluttered. I was going to say complicated, but it's not. I'm 25, single, employed, and someone's son, brother and friend. It's pretty simple, really. I am who I am. I have what I have. And don't have what I don't have. But cluttered it is.

I came to this conclusion when I realize that some people can make a decision to go to China for a year and manage all the associated logistics in two weeks' time. Or make a decision to quit work, reject a job offer, and move to Boston in 3 hours. I can't even leave my apartment for a night out in less than 2 hours deciding what to wear, primping (or stylin'), and the best way to get there.

It's cluttered because my mind is cluttered. I have 35 things that I want to do and learn at any one time. I plan a lot of things for the future but don't take care of the things that need to be done in the present to get that future. I can't really keep all these things in check. I end up forgetting a lot of these things. So, I don't get to them. And I'm reminded that I have goals somewhere when I see others fulfilling theirs.

Sometimes, I think, why are so many people so goal/task-oriented? I figure, why can't I enjoy life and be aimless for a little bit. Well, then I realized, that "little bit" for me has been three years. And three years later, I don't love the place at which I've arrived. So, that "little bit" is over. It has to be. I'm making some decisions these days. Hmm...that's a tall order that I'm setting for myself. Let me think about that.

From Washington Post columnist:

Dear Carolyn:

Please tell me your opinion of the phrase "falling in love with someone's potential."

-- Anywhere, U.S.A.

That it's a lot like the phrase "I quit my job because I'm going to win Powerball next Wednesday," only not as smart. If you want to be in love that badly, adopt a homeless pet.

Hmm...aren't Christians "supposed" to believe the phrase and use it as a guide? That you're looking at who this potential spouse can be and help him/her get there?

AAAAARGHHH!! Why are work processes so frustrating? Is there anyone out there whose work is straightforward? Like open the gas-cap and insert nozzle and press. Or take item, pass through scanner, and ask "paper or plastic?"

For those who've kept up - I'm going to fast-foward to wedding day. Don't expect profundity.

Ernie (best man, brother of groom) and I picked up all the people we needed. Didn't get too lost. And got to the church on time. That little trip made me realize that perhaps, just perhaps, I could deal with living in a city that's not grid-based. But I do soooo appreciate numbers and the street/avenue system we employ on this island of Manhattan.

So, we waited for pictures, we waited for the guests. A lot of waiting actually. But it was so hot in there. We found a cooler basement area and all 14 of us (6 groomsmen, 6 bridesmaids, bride and groom) went there to watch...SpongeBob Squarepants. There was a TV and that's what it was turned to.

Showtime: we line up like the penguins we look like. And we eagerly anticipate the processional. Nice nice. No one tripped. The bride walks in. Beautiful. Mostly kept my eyes on the groom. Wondering what he's feeling. What I would feel one day if in same situation. Wondering if I would ever get there. Wondering if I want to get there.

So, the tear (tada) comes during the vows. Again, I appreciated the personal vows. No matter how cheesy (which I didn't think this was), I think the opportunity to declare your love publicly with heartfelt words (and song in his case) is always special. So, when she spoke, I listened, thinking about all the things she was saying about her man. And I thought, can I be those things to a woman? I would love to, I think. I would love it if a woman could say that about me, about being a protector, a support; about having a sense of fun but also one of duty and responsibility. At that moment, I was so proud to know the groom; to know what a great guy he is to the woman he loves and who loves him.

And I resolved to be those things so that my future bride wouldn't have to make generic vows. Of course, that feeling passed. Well, not really passed, just fading. Timing is not there; it's not right. Hope to get there...one day. Don't know how in hell it's going to happen. This oughta be fun. Heh heh.

His vows to her, peppered with songs, was uniquely him and only adds to his charm. Didn't cry for that one. Knew he would fulfill them to their fullest.

So, maybe the tears were borne of happiness for them with a tinge of sadness for me. I feel kind of selfish to be thinking about me during their time, but it gave me something to think about, which I hope is a step on the path to being a better man.

Who does this research? It sounds good but what about the resultant belly?

Remember this number: 212 479-7990.
For my women-friends who get hit on a lot and are always asked for their numbers, give the above-mentioned one.
For the guys, if you get this number, you're about to get / have been rejected!

Courtesy of the Hilton sisters in their interview with Abercrombie & Fitch magazine.

I think I'm more supportive (well, probably "less unsupportive" is the more accurate term) about people leaving New York and/or my life because I want people to respond the same when I leave. I'm not going anywhere, though. Not now.

Alright. Tuxedo store. I was kinda excited. I liked dressing up. This is probably the only wedding in which I'll participate as a groomsman because the rest of my Boston friends are female and the New York guy ones aren't getting married any time soon. Just kidding.

Went off without a hitch. Except that I was swimming in my tuxedo jacket, it was so big. But the next size down was a boys 18. Yeah, I asked. I knew there was nothing smaller than a 36 regular, but just in case.

Went to play (and in my case, watch) basketball. I didn't play of course. I can't; don't know how. Yet another thing in LIFE that is a regular staple of American male activity that I don't know how to do. But I had a guy with two sprained ankles to keep me company sitting on the bench. Went to an all-you-can-eat meat place. Didn't eat much. Which means, it was yet another thing in LIFE that is a regular staple of American male activity that I don't know how to do. Went to Jillians, this bar-arcade-billiards place. You guessed it, except for the bar part, my participation in the other two activities was close to nil just it was yet another thing in LIFE that is a regular staple of American male activity that I don't know how to do.

The further along the week I go, the less I remember about the wedding and the associated thoughts I had. So, I'll write about something else.

A handshake and a hug later, I watch these two people who have been a part of my life (albeit not a terribly big part) for the last three years walk hand-in-hand away from me. That was it. That's how I said good-bye to a guy and his wife who were off on another chapter of their lives. I don't know if and when I will see them again. So, that's it, huh? That's how things end? People walk in and walk out. And if you ever meet again and actually have some quality sit-down time with them, you think (or pray, during grace perhaps) about how God brings people back together despite time and distance and you're thankful. And yeah...I'm thankful but also, that doesn't happen too often. And that's sad. And you can't really do anything about it. People have to live and to live is to change. And moving away is change. And each time someone lives their life, I take a moment (just a tiny second) to think about my life and whether I'm living it. I have yet to come to any answer or conclusion.

I have such a hangover right now.

Despite being more relaxed on the plane, I just wasn't feeling "it." I don't know what I was supposed to be feeling. Sometimes I think I attach more importance to events than others and at the other times I feel others don't appreciate the times as much as I do. So, I figure, I'm going to my friend's wedding. I'm going to be in it! How exciting. I should be excited! I'm not. I am, but I'm not. I'm still feeling the why-are-people-getting-married-in-their-mid-twenties-and-what's-so-great-about-it-anyway funk. So, I tried to put it away from my mind and enjoy the short flight to Boston.

My friend came to pick me up and we went to the tuxedo store.

more ramblings...let's start from the beginning....

So, on Wednesday night, I was freaking out because I didn't finish the slideshow and things like that. I understood that it wasn't going to be a big deal but I wasn't sure how not a big deal it wasn't going to be. Anyway, the slideshow is not important but the procrastination is. I had put it off for so long that I felt truly awful that I would possibly let down two of my best friends on their wedding day! I couldn't stand it. I almost broke down. I don't know why. Other stuff must have been going through my mind, but I slept for like 2 hours, woke up, thought I would do some more work, but fell in and out of sleep on the futon in my room. I woke up around 8 something, with nothing more done than I had at 2am. My roommate was up; talked to him a little and he helped me out and I was totally grateful and proceeded to work until it got done. The fact that the slideshow was a tiny part of the reception (which I don't think anyone really even saw) is totally! fine with me. And despite all the anguish I went through during the making of it, I don't mind that it wasn't a big deal. It was a reminder of how I've procrastinated my way through college classes and my corporate work assignments. And thus far, I've squeaked by. And I guess for my about-to-be-married friends, I couldn't squeak by this. I didn't want to squeak by. But I was. Will I go through life squeaking by one incident after another until it catches up with me? I think I said this before...

Anyway, got a cab and went to the airport after changing the flight to the afternoon, I was a lot more relaxed and a lot more ready to attend and participate in this wedding.

After service, we went to lunch at a restaurant where they blocked out 4 tables. Got a chance to catch up a little bit with some people. Then, drove back with other New Yorkers. Well, 4 people in the car, including myself and I will be the only one still in New York in a month's time. What's the point of community when community moves out on you? But you know what, I'm letting that go. I really am. I hate change. I'm not (and never have been) good at it. However, I do believe it is good. It is challenging. My friend told me that I'm too comfortable. And to not be too comfortable (for me) is to go for change. Alright, I'm starting the personal feelings part of this extended blog....those were the excruciatingly boring details of the trip and now comes the even more boring details of my reflections of the weekend....

But first, I have to send out this email...(I soooooo have ADD).....

So, nothing much happened. Drank some. Got kicked out of the place because it was closing. Went to a Korean/Japanese place in Chinatown that was still open, one of a handful of restaurants open at that hour in Boston. Ate and went home.

Friday, I had lunch with a friend and walked around the mall and up/down Newbury Street. Wasn't nostalgic or anything. Granted, I like shopping but I wasn't in the mood. Got to rehearsal, waited, hung around, talked through and walked through the process. Nothing complicated, easy as pie.

Went to rehearsal dinner. Very nice Chinese banquet style, festive and intimate despite the 100 people there. Well, I didn't know the 100 people, I knew maybe like 20. Went home, relaxed, got ready. Talked with the groom and his brother (best man) a little. I was staying with them. No wedding jitters for this guy. So admirable. But also, so expected. He's got it together.

Morning of. Woke up, went to the local supermarket, bought and made breakfast, while brother got car washed and filled out the tank. In case you were wondering, I toasted some Eggo's, bought some muffins, and washed some strawberries. Photographer came to take pictures of us getting ready. Got me in my underwear for their Groomsman-of-the-Month Calendar (I'm Mr. August and I'm also kidding).

Went to wedding. Got ready, took pictures in the sun. Have the tan to prove it.

Ceremony: went well. But HOT, very very HOT. Sweating, all of us. Well, the several-layered-tuxedo-clad men at least. The women in their spaghetti-strapped dresses were fine. But in addition to sweat, there were tears; maybe just one tear. Well, probably just me. The bride didn't even cry, I don't think. More explanation for tear(s) later.

They wrote personal vows, which I appreciated. I always like to hear what people have to say and this time, I was so close I was guaranteed to hear them. But they also had microphones so I guess I didn't need to wrangle for that groomsman spot.

More pictures at the end, after the ceremony was over. Headed toward hot, outdoor wedding under a tent, near the water. Water made it cooler. Water also attracted its share of gnats. I got bitten by these crazy gnats (not mosquitos) despite being neck-to-hand-to-toe-covered.

Hectic evening as I emceed the reception. It was only hectic cause I didn't know what the hell I was doing. But everyone who got married that day is still married and doesn't hate me, so I think I passed.

Hung out till the end, had a talk with a friend, ran a couple of end-of-evening errands. Had a late night dinner with some people and went home to get ready for a 9:15 church service. 9:15!!!!!!!!! Got there at 9:30. Was very very impressed with myself. In the words of some of my friends: "CONGratulations" were in order for me.

More later....

Where was I? We went to get our tuxedos. My pants were too long. They hemmed it. Waited around for the dads to get there to try theirs on. Headed back home to change for basketball. And as y'all know, sports is not my forte. And I was nervous about having to particpate but I was glad that I didn't. So, that went well. We went to eat at an all-you-can-eat Brazillian BBQ place. Nothing compared to the ones in New York but good enough. Afterwards, I had to go back to get my passport for my ID because I submitted my Florida driver's license to get a New York one and got a rinky-dinky paper temporary one without a picture. We went to Jillians, this pool/video-game/bar place.

Stay tuned....

I went into this weekend for my friends' wedding very nervous and panic-stricken. I had a mini-panic attack on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. I postponed flying to Boston three times. I was supposed to fly out Wednesday night, but ordered tickets for Thursday morning. And then changed the flight time to Thursday afternoon. I don't know why. I didn't finish the slideshow or something (which turned out not to be a big deal, for which I was very grateful). I don't really know why. It wasn't commitment jitters (y'all know how I have that - as in I can't commit). I think that part of the panic attack related to my procrastinating and it all catching up with me. And I'm afraid that's just symptomatic of bigger issues in my life where I will go crazy when things start catching up with me (like my boss realizing I don't know shit about my work, like a future girlfriend realizing I'm an idiot not capable of honesty and responsibility and love and the list goes on).

But then the flight, which was fine. The tux fitting, which was fine (though my jacket was so big). The bachelor party was fine.

Living the life yesterday of a leisurely "ladies-who-lunch" was soooo good! I was not made to work, to have any ambition. For real, sugar daddies and mommas, give me a call me I'm available to bring you your martini at the end of your long professional make-a-lot-of-money workday while you shower me with gifts of plastic and cash (because all the other gifts I can get with aforementioned plastic and cash).

Hi Josh, for complaining about lack of daily content.

Just as Carrie (and the writers for / creator of her character) believes that her "one true love" could possibly be New York City (versus her ex-fiance and ex-Mr. Big), I think I feel the same way. I love New York City.

I feel proud to be with it. It's my "impress" factor. It makes me look good (at least in my mind) that I can say I live in New York City.

It's a great relationship. It gives me my space, yet it's always there. It's always interesting, offers me plenty of options. I give back...via taxes on my restaurant bills and bar tabs. And via income tax too. Alright, so it's not the most selfless and altruistic way to respond. But I've always been the less giving one in any relationship.

Not that it's a perfect relationship, by any means. It has hurt me, scared me, challenged and confused me. But the experience is uniquely ours. Despite all those things, it has also enlightened me, surprised me, challenged (it can be a good thing sometimes) and excited me.

Do I really like it this much? Would I feel this way about any other city I live in where I'm making money and have friends, and have time to enjoy both? Maybe. But I'm here now. And for now, I love New York.

A friend of a friend works at MSD Capital. That's the personal investing arm of Michael Dell. The man set up a company essentially to manage his billions and billions of dollars by investing it like how a mutual fund is run. Anyway, I went to the web page and read the bios of some of its principals. I ran across all these MIT PhD's in econometrics and game theory, Wharton School MBA's, Harvard College applied math BA's. Then I go to the "Michael Dell" page and I read "Mr. Dell attended The University of Texas." I thought, "HA!" The man didn't even graduate from college and he has PhD's managing his personal portfolio. How ironic (is that the right word?). I mean, what do those people think about that? I'm sure none of the fifty-odd people who work at MSD will ever have enough money to set up a company just to manage his/her personal stash o' money. But they're smart people who went to college and got their multiple degrees just to work for a college drop-out.

Anyone see this show on MTV called "Taildaters"? Two couples (the episode I watched had guy-girl and guy-guy) go on their respective dates. Two friends of each person of each couple (4 friends per couple) watch this date happen on TV at some location. And they discuss what happens, comments on their friend's quirks/turn-offs/turn-ons/etc. They also have text-pagers that allow them to page their friend on the date to do something, to ask something, to make a move, to tell a joke. And in the end, each couple decides if it works out or not.

Thoughts:
First of all, blind dates: NEVER
Have your friends watch you on a date? Hmm..good and bad.
* good - collective wisdom on dating and relationships (if I choose my friends wisely)
* bad - possible performance anxiety (again, depending on choice of friends)

I'm tempted to have the intern that works for me transfer all my telephone numbers from my old cell phone to my new one. But I guess that's not very meaningful work, though it'd mean a lot to me!

Top 3 Ideal Future Wife Jobs (in no particular order):

** art gallery/museum curator/director
** public relations executive
** warrior princess

Celebrity Sightings (in when-I-saw-them order):

Bjork - Union Square
David Duchovny - 5 Ave / 60 st
Ellen Degeneres - SoHo/JCrew men's dept
Deborah Gibson - Union Square
Ice-T - CoffeeHouse / Union Square
Puff Daddy - Rockefeller Center
George Pataki - fundraiser @ Inwood
Tiger Woods - Kapalua golf course, Maui
Josh Chang - (seeing if you're paying attention; seeing you're the only one who read my drivel)
Russell Wong - Union Square subway 4/5
Ralph Lauren - West Village (White Horse Tavern)
Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins - "The Elephant Man" Broadway play - Royale Theater
Alec Baldwin - Starbucks 86/Columbus
Kate & Andy Spade - Wollensky's Grill / 49 & 3rd
Conan O'Brien - 68 Street & Broadway

I SWEAR this is NOT me, but it's funny though, no?

from WashingtonPost advice column (last question):

Dear Carolyn:

I am a successful man with a good personality. I take care of myself both spiritually and physically (i.e. go to church, the gym). I think I'm an all- around good guy. Lately, however, I've been considering having cosmetic surgery to augment my physical appearance. Would that be a turnoff to women to learn that I was vain enough to do this?

-- Adonis

Carolyn: Yes.


Is that true?

Why Georgia by John Mayer

I am driving up 85 in the
Kind of morning that lasts all afternoon
just stuck inside the gloom
4 more exits to my apartment but
I am tempted to keep the car in drive
And leave it all behind

Cause I wonder sometimes
About the outcome
Of a still verdictless life

Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why Georgia, why?

I rent a room and I fill the spaces with
Wood in places to make it feel like home
But all I feel's alone
It might be a quarter life crisis
Or just the stirring in my soul

Either way I wonder sometimes
About the outcome
Of a still verdictless life

Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why Georgia, why?

So what, so I've got a smile on
But it's hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
Don't believe me
When I say I've got it down

Everybody is just a stranger but
That's the danger in going my own way
I guess it's the price I have to pay
Still "everything happens for a reason"
Is no reason not to ask myself

If I am living it right
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why Georgia, why?

Excerpt from email forward I got:

"Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar."
* Drew Carey

"Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant? I'm halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my Goodness. I could be eating a slow learner."
* Lynda Montgomery

"When I die, I want to die like my grandmother who died peacefully in her sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in her car."
* Author Unknown

Last night, I hung out at 36 East 67 Street. That would be between Park and Madison Avenues. That would be the 5-floor townhouse with a huge foyer, an elevator (never did see or use the stairs), closets so big they're literally rooms unto themselves where you have to walk out into the hallways to get to them, home theater (where I watched Black Hawk Down in surround sound with a projector from the ceiling pointing to a drop down screen while I lounged in one of 6 leather recliners), countless bedrooms twice the size of my current living room (aka Roy's room plus dining area), roof deck with wireless access point nearby for people to bring their laptops and surf, hallways filled with original art.

Just another evening hanging out with my socialite friends. It's actually on the market if you're interested.

Once again, for the gay-impaired: "Loving it...loving it..."
It's not "I like..."
Nor is it "Love it...love it"

For demonstration, see me last night at Sushi Samba or see Jack McFarland every Thursday on NBC.

Study: 'Guys can afford to wait to marry'

Yes, yes I can.

Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

So, I saw Kate and her husband Andy Spade last night at dinner. Why do people ask "how do you what she looks like"?

I'm looking for a good place to eat with some friends. I get to Citysearch where they have all those user comments and I inevitably go to the ones that are negative. I don't ignore the positive reviews but I do discount them. Somehow I want to know the worst that there is and set my expectations accordingly. Would that be considered 'dark side?'

Ummm...is there somebody out there in this world who both knows me and knows that Brandy is 7.5 months-plus preggers and neglected to inform me!??!?! I knew she got married but she's having a baby. I'm watching the reality TV show on MTV following her around. So, that's probably an old show which means she already has her baby girl. Brandy is a baby girl and she's having a kid? How come no one told me!

Just finished watching Shawshank Redemption. How great is that movie?

I remember starting it in the last days of my senior year of high school, in physics class. We took the AP test; we took the final. There really wasn't anything else to do so they put on movies in the class. I guess it was the last two days of class since we watched the first half one day, and the second the other. And I remember not being there for the second half. So, for 7 years, I've never seen the ending, all the while answering "yes" when asked whether I've seen the movie.

Anyway, good movie.

MH - I bought the book on a whim. Hear the author's name somewhere or saw the book on a list of "to read" or something. Had a vague notion it was going to be a movie soon. Was about to finish it when my sister asked me if I wanted to go see a preview screening of it put on Entertainment Weekly. Since I was almost done and thought the book was hilarious up till then, I was excited about seeing it for free. Movie didn't disappoint. Much easier to have someone put visuals to the words. I can't naturally do that.

I think I'm getting sick. And the three beers, chili dog and fries last night could not have helped. Dang it if I don't love me some chili dogs. They're the grossest thing on a plastic plate but it tastes so good.

With talk about ADD this weekend and Manboo being in my dream last night (calm down! Jennifer Aniston was in it too.), I decided to search for a test to see if I had ADD.

Result:
"Suspected: Inattentive ADD
The onset of these symptoms often become apparent later in child-hood or early adolescence. The brighter the individual, the later symptoms seem to become a problem. The symptoms must be present for at least six months and not be related to a depressive episode or the onset of marijuana usage."

Thank goodness I stopped my marijuana usage a while back or this diagnosis would so confuse things!

Also:
"Suspected: Limbic ADD
The limbic system lies near the center of the brain. It is about the size of a walnut. This is the part of the brain that sets a person's emotional tone or how positive or negative you are. The limbic system also affects motivation and drive. It helps get you going in the morning and encourages you to move throughout the day. It controls the sleep and appetite cycles of the body. It affects the bonding mechanism that enables you to connect with other people on a social level; your ability to do this successfully in turn influences your moods."

Hmmm...explains my solitary activities (bonding mechanism); why I'm so skinny (appetite cycles); why 14 hour sleeps are not unusual for me (sleep cycles).

This weekend (like most weekends), I did a by-myself thing (running at the gym, this time). I like doing things like that, where I pick up and go. I don't have to tell anyone or be on anyone else's schedule. So, if I had to stay at home for 5 minutes longer to fix my hair before I head out (even to the gym, yes), I'm not making someone else wait 5 extra minutes. It's rather a courtesy really, me doing things by myself.

Whoa whoa whoa! So, adored-guy is out now and church-man is in?! Talk about fickle!

Interesting, eye-opening post, Mei. Never knew that, never thought that about you. More later.

Yes, I have said that.
Yes, it's 5/30.

Very jealous to hear that you actually like your job.

I went to the Park today to rollerblade. Got hurt in the process. So I now have exposed flesh on my left palm, left knee and left butt cheek. Pretty.

Anyway, when I got home, and fumbled to open my brand-new, never-opened, had-for-over-a-year emergency kit, I realized that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Did I need to wipe it with something? Is "antiseptic" it? There was also another type of ointment in there. Then how am I suppose to cover it? Some gauze? Don't I need tape? Regular stolen-from-work tape? I don't have any other. Band-aids! Stick a band-aid on everything (though that's ironic considering I hate sticky stuff). That should work. And then reluctant to use the new band-aids in the kit, I saw that I had an older (back-in-Brooklyn-days-old) box of band-aids. And I'm there thinking, "Do band-aids expire?" Of course, all the while, the "sting-free" antiseptic wipe is STINGING like a MOTHER! Fuck it, I slapped on the old band-aid. Infections be damned! My take-away from this mini-drama is: get a honey to do this for me or get hurt a lot more so I know what the hell I'm doing.

Oh, also, as I got ready to go out, I had to wash up and style the hair so that it looks like I didn't do anything to it and it's "naturally" messy. For all the things I do with my right hand (heh heh....like writing and eating, pervs!), the left hand is pretty important. The left palm is where I dab on my pomade and the hand with which I run through my locks. With the band-aid and the stinging, I had to resort to the right hand. So, now I've got the Cameron-Diaz-"Something about Mary" look.

This thing better heal fast.

When did kids become grown ups so fast?

So, I was having lunch with a couple of summer interns this afternoon and when they asked what year we graduated and I said, '99, the girl had the nerve to say "wow, that's a while back!" On the inside, I was like, "WHAT?!?!? Say that to my face! Are you calling me old?!?" And of course, she did say it to my face and I could do nothing about it. Dang it! Dang my 25 years!

Were you bored because you knew the material already? Or was he just boring?

As smart as some of my coworkers are, they're pretty dumb. I mean, they're not dumb. They're just lazy. Does no one READ? I slave over these stupid documents only to have people NOT read them and ask me a ton of questions. But of course, I'm expected to wade through every single legal agreement and operational attachment to determine if it's passable. And of course, it's "my" product when I have to make decisions based on these readings, but they get to perpetuate misconceptions about its universal cost savings in newsletters. I'm not saying I want to write any damn articles, I just want them to take responsibilities for what they say by reading documents that outline why they are freakin' wrong whenever they open their big mouths.

I went to see my first Broadway play (versus musical) tonight: The Elephant Man with Billy Crudup. Saw Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins there too but that's beside the point. The point is that I realized that watching plays are hard! I mean, to really understand and appreciate plays requires paying close attention to words and actions and to think along with the characters in real time. So, I've concluded that I'm dumb because I can't do it. It was a good play. I enjoyed it. I didn't nod off or anything, despite (or probably because I was) sitting next to a woman who every 20 minutes gurgled like she was about to throw up (she relayed this piece of information to her companion at the end of the 1-hour-45-minute-no-intermission play). The acting was good. I guess. I've never been able to really discern. I have absolutely no sense of what's good or not. What I can tell you is that I like the set design and lighting. How horribly sad that I notice and appreciate only that. Does practice make perfect? Should I see more plays? Or is that a waste money? My first instinct is to go find a book that tells you how to appreicate plays. That's what I've always thought: that everything one needs to know is in books. And for the most part, the books are probably out there. But there's gotta be a time and place where one learns these things for himself. That's not to say he learns it by himself because it could be in a classroom with other students or a friend teaches him. I gotta figure this out.

The topic in this article is RIDICULOUS. What's "front piggy-backing"? That's what I'd like to know! Is it like "riding the pony"? And what's with all the farm animal references?

Line from book:
Character Will Freeman - "I used to think I was pretty cool. I didn't mean anything, about anything to anyone and I knew that guaranteed me a long, depression-free life."

Saw Joe Dirt last night on HBO. Joe Dirt - poor man's Forrest Gump.

Positional vertigo, the doctor said. I have it. I want to get rid of it.

"About A Boy" by Nick Hornby. Funny. Good. I like it a lot. Me, kinda now and kinda how I wanna be in 12 years.

My friend wrote:

May 9, 2002
I guess we should be glad the pipe bomber wasn't going for B^) or >P.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I love it. OK. Maybe not that many HA's. But it's going to keep me smiling throughout the day.

Alright, perhaps a little harsh yesterday about people analyzing movies. I started "About A Boy" by Nick Hornby today. And in the first 13 pages, I already see a little bit of me in one of the characters. So, we see what we want to see, perhaps. And if I was any sort of writer, I'd expound on that. But I'm not. So, I won't.

Washington Post article:
The movie also set a single-day record on Saturday of $43.7 million, according to studio estimates, and became the first movie to hit $100 million in its first weekend. Clearly, there’s more at work here than superhero worship. The character underneath the mask "was really representative of a lot of us who did the right thing but were awkward — awkward about social interaction, awkward about being so smart, being awkward just dealing with the world,” says Avi Arad, executive producer of the “Spider-Man” film.

Uh, no! We're heading toward summer, it's a weekend, the movie got a lot of buzz so it did well. Why do people feel the need to analyze everything? I'm sure people feel what Arad expressed but that's certainly not why I went. I really doubt the 10 people I went with thought that either. So, is it just the 11 out of the 140 million people who saw it this weekend who feel this way? I doubt that.

This "owning" thing is a bunch of bull. First of all, remind me of your definition.

But I'm going to rant anyway:
You think you own me but you only own the part of me that isn't anymore. That part does not exist anymore. The part that S. owns is more there, but not too much more. You understand? And the owner didn't do anything to own more or less of the person. It's the object that has changed. Who I am, who I think I am, and who I want to be are different. They are constantly being reshuffled and changed. And no one has managed to keep up with all those changes. That is partly my fault, and partly yours (generic you, not you-you).

Asian Americans suck.

I just finished reading the Elizabeth Shin article from the New York Times Magazine. Asian-American parents put so much pressure on their kids. It's their fault. "We don't pry." Pry?! They don't even talk, I bet. Come on, as long as your kids are at MIT and Yale (and the youngest is probably going to Harvard), you're fine. You have defended your existence. Then again, if I could, I'd be sending my kids to Andover or Exeter and starting the torment earlier in their lives. I just don't them to miss any opportunity to do whatever it is they want to do with their future. But that's for later....much later.

This kid did school work, fenced for a team, played the clarinet with a symphony and had friends?! I did the first one half-assed and only have that last one because I got lucky.

The school's to blame too. Once you enter college, all bets are off? You're on your own? When did being legally able to smoke and vote mean you're an adult? The school had a responsibility to the parents who pay tuition not just for the education (that would be case if this was some sort of commuter-school) but for the well-being of the child invested full-time around the experience of being educated.

Ultimately, each person has to own up to what he/she does. Personal responsibility. No one in this world is going to take care of you. You feel like crap; get out of it. In your own time, in your own way, get out of it. Don't let people tell you when or how. It's none of their business.

IHTFP. I still feel that way about that school.

Recently a friend realized that how little she knew about me. She asked me whether I was "a non-divulger or [whether she was]....just totally self-centered? Anyone who knows her might think otherwise but the answer of course is I'm a "non-divulger." Where do people find the courage to let themselves go like that; to entrust someone to thoughts and emotions that basically define the person and then to risk rejection of those verbalized things?

I read somewhere that many men think that "the love of a good woman will cure any of his ills." I don't believe it. I just can't imagine such a grace.

I read an op-ed article by Thomas Friedman of the Times. Well-written, witty and informative. When making my next statements, I'm assuming that writers follow the rule to only write what they know. By virtue of writers doing what they do (write), they are some of the most intelligent (not just knowledgeable, though certainly that) people in society. In order to write, you need to know. Know the facts, know how to connect, know the history, know the present, know how it'll shape the future.

I know squat, which is reflected in my blogs.

Last night, I watched 4 (count 'em: FOUR) Law & Order's in a row. Four hours from 9-1am. I was kinda packing, kinda watchin'. Good show. It doesn't make me want to be one of the lawyers or the cops. If anything, it shows me how easily I can end up one of those people committing the crimes. Like a regular, everyday, neurotic, psychotic New Yorker.

Regarding Abercrombie and Asian T-shirts (http://www.cnn.com/2002/BUSINESS/asia/04/19/sanfran.abercrombie.reut/index.html):

I think the t-shirts are kinda funny and I don't take offense but I do agree that they should not be sold.

I get home from work late these days. So when I (immediately, no less) turn on the TV after I get in, I'm catching Law and Order instead of the sitcoms. So, these past few weeks, I've been watching all the Law & Orders, all flavors, all the rotating casts. There's the regular one, SVU, and CI.

People have some of the most ****ed up reasons and motivations to commit the crimes that they do. It's amazing how jealousy, ignorance, stupidity, love, fear, lust can drive someone to do some of the most heinous things. Of course, it's not all about gore. Illegal activities come in all forms. I wonder what would drive me to the edge?

From Snapple cap: Slugs have 4 noses.
From Joe Li: "Good to know."

From CNN:
Male frogs exposed to even very low doses of a common weed killer can develop multiple sex organs -- sometimes both male and female -- researchers in California have discovered.
From Joe Li:
"Whoa!"

With all the meetings I set up to bring different parts of the firm and the vendor together, I quickly thought: hope this all works out. Then I realized that I never pray about the work that I do at my job. I pray about getting another job, but never about the success of my current one. But it just struck me as funny. In college, I never prayed about getting into another college. I prayed about doing well on the work at the current college. Granted, I theoretically can change jobs more easily than I could have changed schools. All this is not to say that I'm going to start praying about the work that I do now though.

I think I'm going to stop playing guitar (or learning to play the guitar) because it's making my fingers look ugly. I don't think what I'm getting are callouses, either. It's a funky flatness.

terms i hear at work that kinda annoying but i'm starting to use myself

1. circle back - let me circle back to bob on that and i'll get back to you
2. low-hanging fruit - well, now that we've gotten to all the low hanging fruit, we need find more savings
3. keep me honest - bob, keep me honest here, my understanding is that the cost would be absorbed by the vendor.

What do you need me to explain?!

I was talking to a friend (guy) and we were talking about men and women seminarians. Why do women go to seminaries? For missions, I can get that. C/E directors? Possibly. I mean, they'll never be a pastor (not really). So, if they're in a marriage state of mind (meaning, they want to get married at all; some women don't, right?), then they're looking for a seminarian (obviously, at least to me). BUT this seminarian my friend knows (who's young) wouldn't really be interested in a woman from seminary...because of things I mentioned below. It's great that she wants to know about God and be able to use this knowledge for His Kingdom but if that's all she knows, it's not as interesting. I know that sounds messed up. So, if she had a life before (doing her own thing, learning about herself, and her world) meeting him, she'll so much more to the table. And when they meet, that she's willing to change for him, for their mission together. Does that sound messed up? I don't know. That sounds right. I mean, if you take a regular guy (non-seminarian) and ask him whether he'd like someone totally just like him or someone who brings something to the table (like a previous life of adventures, experiences, or just background), he'd pick the latter.

Do you agree? Disagree? Still not sure what I'm saying?

OK. Maybe this is from a selfish-man-POV, but have you ever thought that a church-planter/China missions-oriented man doesn't want an exact replica of himself? I know it doesn't seem to make sense but hear me out. So, this guy is totally in missions and wants to plant a church and all that you are looking for. And, hey, you want the same things too! We have a match, right? Not really. I mean, though the guy obviously wants a woman who shares his vision and will accompany him on his/their mission, he doesn't exactly want a pre-packaged missionary's wife. Do you know what I mean?

I'm obviously not speaking for all men, but I think that guys want a woman who's had a life before him and whose life wasn't to wait for him.

This is not a commentary of what you're doing "right" or "wrong." I'm just offering a thought out there that might shape your own thoughts about relationships, your career path, your goals and mission in life.

Don't know how you do it. What makes you "go" for a guy? I mean, why not sit and wait? And by "going" for him, what do you do? Put yourself in his way? That might work.

As for me, I'm supposed to be the one "going" for the women right? Haven't found anyone yet. I'm not looking so that might be why. It's all good though. Really it is!

First day in my working life that I didn't go to a news website because I was diligently working. Never happened before. Don't know whether to be proud or ashamed.

Learned that song last year. Good song!

Last night, I had two Eskimo Pies and some Tostitos for dinner.

It's Wei3 Xian2.

Actually, what I hear about friendships is that people always seem to gravitate and hold dear their college friendships more so than their current friends. Well, I don't really know that. I just know that my post-college friendships can seem transistory. I think that because while we were in college, after four years, it's perfectly reasonable for people to move away to do their thing, whether it's graduate school, work, being at home with family. However, post-college, in the town you've decided to study, work, live, people moving away is a deliberate, conscious decision. It's a decision to move away from those friends you've made thus far. Perhaps, it's being in New York, where people have many goals, all of which are significant to them. And friendship is just one "sub-goal." And often times, these subgoals conflict, overlap, and/or are mutually exclusive.

I have an idealized view of friendship and family. I think I told you this. My problem is that very few hold this view, especially in New York City. So, change my view? Is that it?

Communication is key, don't you think? But there's a difference between communication and dumping, right? But what's the difference?

And how do you handle "pockets" of friends? Our mobile culture forces us to have these different pockets. I imagine a wedding where I'm just one of a party that is just one pocket of this couple's world of friends. I guess there's nothing wrong with that. I'm just selfish that way. I want them all to myself. Is that so wrong?

Do you think that any friend you make after college (similar to our go-away-to-college, non-commuter experience) will match the ones we made in college? What if your post-college days are not spent in your hometown and therefore your go-away, non-commuter experience is similar? What if you don't keep in touch with those college friends as much?

"I suggest that the only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little further down one particular path than we have gone ourselves." - EM Forster

No, I don't know that praise song.

One hour huh? Unbroken? I don't do anything that long (except sleep).

Where was this conference? How come you didn't go to the one in Philly?

I'm doing my annual objectives for work as part of our mid-year and end-of-year evaluation and I realize that I HAVE NO STRENGTHS! What's wrong with me? All I have put down is "spreadsheet/analytical data analysis." That's it! I'm not good technically because I have no idea what they're talking about. I'm not good communication-wise because I really don't feel like talking to these people, primarily because they're going to respond to me in that technical jargon that I don't understand in the first place! I like the idea of my role (which is "product management") but I don't like the industry in which I'm applying it. Got .... to..... get......another.......job.................

Of course, there are so many caveats to that last sentence. It's gotta pay well (or at least OK). It's gotta be some specific companies that I have in mind (i.e. not a total startup or anything). The industry should be in the areas of my interest. It can't be far away; I'm not relocating for it.

I love bacon! Am having it for breakfast right now. Dang! It's good. Crunchy, fatty and delicious.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1101020211-198891,00.html

You're sharing this with someone else? Sharon? Is that you?

I love long weekends. Who can I talk to in order to get instituted?

All this good will on your website! I don't know if I can match it. I can't.

For most of the time, the only thing I could think about in Hawai'i was coming back to New York. And on the flight home, I was wondering what about New York I wanted to come home to. There are lots of things of course: the city itself, my small group and friends, work. Work? Definitely NOT. And since work takes up 1/3 of the my entire life, being unhappy there takes its mental and psychological toll. And that thought led to others about what's NOT good about me being in New York. The flood gates were open! And last night, I couldn't sleep for some reason (well, it could be that I woke up at 3:30 that afternoon and was trying to go to bed less than 10 hours after that). As I lay awake, I was thinking about commitments, responsibilities, advancement in career and relationships, and how I don't have (or aspire to have) any of those.

So, there's this covenant renewal thing happening at church where the church is voicing its vision by looking at the past, present and future. I hope to do a little of that myself and hopefully come up with a vision of my own.

What's your vision?

They're personalized cards. That's Central Park and the Towers are not there. BUT I do have personalized cards where the Towers are there and I left them there on purpose. That's how I know NYC as and that's the way it's staying in my mind and heart.