People are getting ready for our housewarming party at our apartment. They're vacuuming, swiffering, and all that other stuff. One hundred odd people will be passing through our living/dining/bedroom and hallways. I don't think they care that their shoes are stepping on dust. It's not like we ever live in a pigsty. But if they want it to look good for the first 10 people who show up, that's fine. Me? I'm, er, blogging and surfing the web.

Yesterday, September 24. I woke up early-ish as I had mentioned before. I didn't do too much. I surfed. One roommate didn't have to work so we were looking at Christian singles dating sites for a while. Unfortunately, we found them to be HILARIOUS! It's 10 AM; we weren't drunk. We were just mean. It all started because of a SPAM email that I got. Then we just googled for similar sites. And there are a lot out there. FYI: crossdaily.com has the applicants respond most comprehensively AND one doesn't have to register to view them. We skipped over anything that had us register.

After finding another reason to send us straight to hell (making fun of singles, us being single ourselves), we found our way to our nearest Borders to read magazines of a frivolous nature. We got our usual suspects (US Weekly and Star are staples).

We had lunch at a nearby restaurant. I had the chicken pot pie. It was good. It was also probably the frozen kind they buy at Costco. At least the view was nice. We sat outside.

After lunch, we got home to more lounging and some cleaning. We also watched the whole two hours of MTV's True Life. This episode was about several kids' senior year of college. Brought back some memories, like the prom. But all in all, it was yet another opportunity to make fun of people.

We debated over what else to get for our housewarming deeming our existing inventory too small. In the evening, I went to a local supermarket to fill up our coffers a little bit. Apparently, it's not enough since the others are at Costco now.

After a ramen noodle dinner (did I post that I had that last night? - it was from the same package), I headed out to see a movie. Despite not having had a lot of sleep, the Bourne Supremacy kept me up. It was good. Despite getting good reviews, I feel like this could have been another episode of some Alias-y/24-ish type of show. Granted, I've never seen a complete episode of Alias or 24. In my head, it would be like this movie.

After the movie, I came home, ate some snacks and went to bed. I think I slept for 10 hours. I'm still tired. I may take a nap.

Housewarming party details to come. Stay tuned.

I don't know why I am up at 9 AM, considering that I went to bed at 3.

Yesterday, September 23. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got a call from my parents afterwards to meet up with them for a late lunch. I needed a talk from my friend to get me through my trip to meet them because that parent conversation earlier was frustrating me. But the lunch was fine. I saw their developed pictures from the wedding. I had brought my laptop for something else so I had a chance to show them my digital pictures. My mom bought some NYC tourist t-shirts for some of the workers at home. Then I left them to come home around 4. I met someone for drinks at 5. He had to go to a dinner reception at 7 which allowed me to come back home and take a nap. I was very buzzed from the two dirty martinis I had on an empty stomach. I woke up to find my roommates chatting and eating, so I made myself some quickie ramen noodles (courtesy of my parents during a chinatown grocery store run). We got to talking about one of my roommate's crack-like addiction to DVD purchases during his last few years. We were trying to rattle off movies that a guy like him would own. Around 10:30, I went to a club with the person I had drinks with earlier. Danced the night away with pretty cool music. They played pop songs like those in my MP3 collection to which I dance when getting dressed every morning. I got home around 2:30 PM, took a shower, and went to bed.

Today's my mom's birthday. It's also someone else's birthday today because I remember thinking, "hey, that's my mom's birthday."

It's at 10 AM now. I am in my apartment alone (I think). The working roommates are at work. The grad student roommate is probably still asleep. I'm thinking how weird it is that I am watching people outside of my window going to work and...doing things, while I am here doing nothing. How long do I expect this to last? And it's not like I'm anxious about it though I really should. I act like I'm on vacation; I feel like I'm lazy. Uh oh, friends told me this would happen. Well, they said it would happen to someone like me. They know that I can ride this non-active state for a while. And I was going to prove them wrong. Eh! What can I say, I was wrong.

September 22 - Yesterday's activities included walking out of the house to go window shopping. I put some non-jeans and non-t-shirt and went walking up to Fifth and Madison Avenues. I got the nerve to go into the Bergdorfs and Louis Vuittons and just browsed like I was some sort of rich international trust fund kid. After several hours of pretending, I walked home and I was there for the night. This is around 5 PM. I made dinner for myself and a roommate. I talked on the phone with my old worker for about an hour. I watched the Bachelor (the entire two-hour premiere). I voted for the Bachelor who did not eventually get chosen by the ladies. I now have less vested interest in the show because of it. A couple of more hours on the computer before bed concluded yet another Wednesday in my life.

I want to answer one of the most asked questions these days of my unemployed state: what do you do all day? Honestly, I don't know. I schlep around for the most part. It's not like I'm watching a lot of TV or sleeping or reading, but I do do a lot of those activities (the reading is more like surfing the internet).

So, I'm going to log what I do each day on this blog. I know what you're thinking: we'll see how long this lasts. And I agree with you 100%. But I have this inspiration right now to do this. It will most likely fade but who cares.

Posthumously, I'd like to post for this past Monday and Tuesday. I start this week because preparations for my sister's wedding this past weekend has passed (not that I signed up to do anything for the wedding except to attend and dance during the reception).

Monday, September 20.
My old roommate, Susy, was in town from Miami for my sister's wedding. We met up with our old third roommate, Namita, near her workplace for lunch at one of our favorite haunts, Burrito Loco (affectionately called "the Loco"). After lunch, she and I walked around the Village, bought some cupcakes from Magnolia to torture one of my current roommates. Susy had an evening flight to catch so she left. I prepared to get to my FIT class. My class ends around 8:30. I came home, cooked some food, ate and watched TV/surfed the web. Went to bed around midnight.


Tuesday, September 21.
I woke up around noon or so (I'm feeling sick). My parents called, waking me up. We met up around two (it took them a while to get into the city from Flushing). We ate lunch in K-Town at Seoul Garden. Afterwards, we went in search for invitation-quality paper goods for my sister's Orlando wedding reception. Two stores later, we decided on the paper and envelopes. I had developed a mockup of the invitation to show my parents during lunch. We went to a local Kinkos to find out how much printing would cost. The one we asked didn't have the right sized feeder so it wasn't sure. I will have to find another one. (Did you know that it's not FedEx Kinko's?). After my parents went back to Queens for their dinners with old classmates, I headed home to do more of nothing. I ate, talked to the roommates, surfed the internet for news and fashions from Emmy night (which I missed, on purpose). Around 10 PM, I met up with my roommate from two apartments ago for drinks at a new place near his apartment on 17th and 8th, called Nooch. It's an Asian fusion (mostly Thai and Japanese) restaurant. We just had drinks. I ordered a dirty Martini, as usual. It was good to catch up with my friend. Got home around midnight. Found the home dark as the two (of four) roommates were already asleep (working folk!) and the other two were out of town.

Today is Wednesday. I will post my day's events later. Aren't you excited?!?

Why do I like "Charlie Angels 2: Full Throttle" so much?

Third time not a charm.
Tried to get Wicked tickets through their rush ticket lottery.

A new favorite route: West Broadway from Houston down to Canal.

I so sad.
I watched the series finale of "Friends" all alone.

I Saw Her on the L Train

March 28, 2004
By JASON GORDON



THE New York subway has become the city's last bastion of
hope for romantics. That's partly because the subway is one
of the only places where people aren't subdivided into
small cliques depending on social class or musical tastes.
And instead of the carefully selected and touched-up photos
that people present online, under the bright, fluorescent
lights of the subway you can see exactly what someone looks
like. There is no dark lighting to cover a premature
wrinkle, a scary makeup job or a bad hair day.

The subway exposes people when they are their most
unfortunate selves, and I, for one, love it. Every day,
millions of naturally stunning women parade in front of me,
and all I have to do is look up from my seat to appreciate
them.

From a distance, I admire these beautiful women, and I
speculate about them, based on how they're dressed. You can
tell who feels comfortable in a pants suit and who'd prefer
to be wearing a thrift-store dress and fishnet stockings.
But who knows if the woman in a Versace business suit
really has a thing for leather?

Recently, a friend told me that she had seen in the subway
a man so beautiful she felt like a 16-year-old looking at a
photo of Luke Perry at the peak of his "Beverly Hills
90210'' fame. She pictured their entire future together. I
told her that she had just had her first subway crush.

A subway crush is simply someone you most likely will never
talk to or even meet, but will stare at adoringly from
afar. It's a crush in the simplest, most intense sense of
the word. During the limited span of your ride, you can
imagine any future you want with this person. She or he may
not even be your type, but you find yourself becoming
temporarily infatuated.

Could it ever go further?

I will always remember the day I was riding the L train and
a young woman sitting across from me was reading John
Kennedy Toole's novel "A Confederacy of Dunces.'' She had
short black hair and was wearing your standard Williamsburg
outfit of Converse, stockings, and all black everything
else. It was the novel that brought her to my attention.

The words immediately formed in my brain. "That's one of my
favorite books."

Amazingly, she smiled at me and asked me what I was
reading. I told her it was a manuscript of David Brock's
new book, "The Republican Noise Machine,'' and explained to
her its premise. She immediately went into a little rant
about how important it is for people our age to be involved
in politics.

It turned out she worked for a cause I really believe in.
At this point we were both just smiling at each other,
waiting for one of us to ask for the other person's phone
number. I asked first, and she gladly gave it to me.

The next day I called her and asked if she wanted to go out
the following evening. She said yes and plans were made,
but that night we bumped into each other at Dan Kennedy's
reading of "Loser Goes First." It was a complete
coincidence but a great one. We spent the entire event
together.

We confessed to each other our love for David Sedaris and
Scrabble. We confided to each other our favorite private
hideaways in New York, where we can go and not see anyone
we're friends with. Mine was a park near Riverside Drive.
Hers was a doughnut shop in Chinatown. She hated new bands.
I loved finding them. She didn't own a computer. I was
addicted to mine.

We dated for a year before moving in together. I was
against marriage and so is she, but after three years
together she wanted a ring and I gladly got it for her. It
was a small ceremony and we both cried. We pooled our money
in a bid for me to run for governor, then senator. I won
and we moved to Washington. We had three children, named
Jagger, Bowie and Moz. I was asked by my good friend
Hillary Rodham Clinton to be her vice president. I
accepted.

Eight years later, I ran for president and easily beat
Giuliani. My wife was the most fabulous first lady since
Jackie O. We retired young and moved back to Manhattan,
where on a gorgeous spring day I caught her sunbathing on
the roof of our brownstone rereading "A Confederacy of
Dunces.''

That, at least, was my fantasy; in reality, I never said a
word. I thought about her for a week or so, I told my
friends about this woman I saw reading my favorite book and
I even checked the Missed Connections section of
Craigslist. I hoped I would see her again, but I don't know
if I'd even recognize her.

Jason Gordon is editor of the Web site Product Shop NYC, an
online popular culture magazine.

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/03/28/nyregion/28crush.html?ex=1081769499&ei=1&en=2806d6abb9cfd4fa

Joe's Style Meter: The shorter the sideburns, the nerdier the guy.

However, it is not necessarily true about longer sideburns.
Elvis = cool
Elvis impersonators = not cool

I'm afraid of cutting my hair short because I think my hairline has receded. Scary.

Do you ever feel like everyone else is having more fun than you?

Two young couples told me this weekend that they are expecting a baby. They both married within the last two years. I am very excited for them. And despite all the talk about how people change when they marry, and how life as they know it is essentially over when they have children, I think they're still the same people. They're now just people who got married. They're now just people with kids. Just because you graduated from college doesn't make you a different person from the one you were pre-bacalaureate. You just now have a degree; and having it means that you have more privileges and different responsibilities (which one can opt to not take, of course).

All of this is to say, yay, I'm glad my married friends are having children!

It's been a while.
Went to AC last night. Left not losing my shirt. Good times.

I hate being sick. And I've noticed that a lot of people are ill lately. Not a good way to start the year, but it does give you a little time to think about what you want to do. However, for me, it's another reason to procrastinate on getting started on those resolutions.

Home Alone 3 is totally different from the first two. It doesn't flow at all. And this kid is smarter than the other one. He's all scientific and....stuff. He has all these little home-made inventions. Macauley was cute, but dumb. And this one, it's all high-tech. The "thieves" are trying to retrieve some high tech chip that's gonna ruin the world. Oh, I'm talking about this because it's midnight on a Sunday and I'm awake because I took a nap earlier in the day.

So, in the movie, this kid's bedroom is huge! It's not huge by suburb standards, I guess. It just got me thinking about how my bedrooms from since I was born have gotten smaller and smaller. I think my bedroom now is the smallest one that I've ever lived in, short of the ones I've shared (or my dorm room in college, but at least there was a sink in there).

Why the hell am I watching this?!

Wow, I haven't done very well on my reading list (left).
I haven't touched the first book.
Still working on the second.
Haven't touched the third.
And class is over so I don't have to read that anymore.

I've added EM Forster's Maurice, Margaret Cho's I'm the One I Want, and Mark Simpson's Sex Terror. You would think Margaret Cho's would be the funniest, but it's actually really sad. I'm waiting for the funny parts. And Sex Terror conjures up thoughts of freaky phalluses but luckily this book chronicles "Erotic Misadventures in Pop Culture."

To those who still read this...

Happy Holidays. Love what you got today.

Community, a Quality of the Heart
The word community has many connotations, some positive, some negative.
Community can make us think of a safe togetherness, shared meals, common
goals, and joyful celebrations. It also can call forth images of sectarian
exclusivity, in-group language, self-satisfied isolation, and romantic
naiveté. However, community is first of all a quality of the heart. It grows
from the spiritual knowledge that we are alive not for ourselves but for one
another. Community is the fruit of our capacity to make the interests of
others more important than our own (see Philippians 2:4). The question,
therefore, is not "How can we make community?" but "How can we develop and
nurture giving hearts?"

I don't know why I'm surprised every time, but the vending machines at FIT are always out of Diet Coke.

What? There's a lot of pressure to be thin when you're at FIT. =)

I like Barbara Bush. I think she's the coolest old lady around.

Andy Pettitte's last name has too many t's for just two syllables.

This FIT class has some dumb people in it. DUMB.

Yay! Finally have internet access at home and can access Blogger. It's been blocked at work since July.

But nothing to say. It's been too long.

So, this new apartment I saw has this duplex thing where there's a spiral staircase inside the apartment that goes up to the second level. As I was walking down those narrow stairs that I was trying to navigate ever so gently, I suggested to my roommate walking behind me that we should really have something like a stripper's pole instead to make the trip go faster. She responded, "You mean, a fireman's pole?" Hmmm...what was I thinking?

Ha ha!
http://www.msnbc.com/news/920254.asp

I just like the title.

I think that Beyonce in her newest video looks like Shakira.

Watching When Harry Met Sally at 1 o'clock in the morning. Movie is prelude to Sex and the City and Will and Grace in it's New York-ness, in it's male/female relationships, in it's "the clock doesn't start ticking until 36". Funny, original.

My friend has got me pegged:

"While I was previously considered to be second choice, here is a list of reasons why I would be a better caregiver/nanny than Jelly [this is me]...
1) He wants to take care of a baby because it is cute. However, he is dark sided and will become bitterly disillusioned by the waywardness of little baby. I already know babies are pains in the asses, but love them despite. He will also not care for the baby if it is not cute (uh, but yours will be of course), and he will scorn it and possibly make fun of it. Who needs to be subject to this at the tender age of 2 weeks or even 15 months? (Can't you hear him say, "Would you please stop eating corn? And do something about that newborn acne child, puhlease). He does this even when we visit Pets on Lex.

2) I have changed many a diaper, given baths, burped the baby, assisted in the breastfeeding process, have gone shopping with the baby, fed the baby with a bottle and assembled baby items such as stroller and playtime seater. I know how to tell if the baby is hungry or tired, as opposed to crusty diapered. My sister has even left me alone with her brand new baby while she and my mother went shopping.

3) I know baby songs and how to socialize developmentally with a baby. Do you want your baby to grow up singing, "Dirrrty" by Christina Aguilera?

4) Finally, Jelly = MW. Enough said."

Make that 5 times.

In the last two weeks, I've had arroz con pollo from Le Caridad four times.

Grandma Li who's recovering from a stroke tells me on my last night in Hong Kong that she doesn't need much else in her life; that I be a good boy, for me to find a girl to marry and to have her eldest grandson to have a child. That would be her "dream."

Wha?!?!

Does no health-care professional think that 120 pounds on a 5'8" frame is too light?

Went to doctor today and I mentioned that it was one of my concerns but it wasn't really addressed during the visit.

Eclesiastes 1:10
Is there anything of which one can say,
"Look! This is something new"?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.

Um, I think that if someone during the time when this Bible verse was written saw, like, a car or a PDA, I bet they would say, "hey, this is something new."

Movies I like right now:
West Side Story
Ocean's Eleven

http://www.nytimes.com/2003/02/07/international/07TECH.html

Ooh, maybe Josh's old roommate is here for reasons other than studying..."archeology," was it? Is that what they call international espionage these days?

One of my friends from work recently quit his job because he got into graduate school. He's taking this time off to relax and travel before starting in the summer. But among the group of co-workers with whom both of us trained during our first 4 months in the company, time has swept the memory of him away. We now congratulate the ones who recently got promotions and we move on. That's what I hate about change. It seems like no one is ever ever good enough to leave any lasting impression. Who does someone have to sleep with to get noticed anyway?! Kidding. No need for that at this company. Have you seen some of the people I work with? Yikes.

http://www.msnbc.com/news/868639.asp

I saw La Boheme on Broadway this weekend. As with the true opera, it was sung entirely in Italian with supertitles displayed electronically. They were displayed in different fonts for the different characters. I don't know if that's true of what the Met would do. Anyway, I didn't enjoy it very much. I thought the set design was good and the female leads had strong voices. I think I didn't like it because it was sung in Italian and I just couldn't follow. Sure, I had the supertitles to help me along but I just wasn't very interested in general. Then I realized that I'm one of those "dumb Americans" that the Europeans always speak of. Because it's not in English, I have no interest. For the most part, most Europeans are multi-lingual. With that comes, I assume, a wider range of interests because one can understand more. I think people who speak only English miss out on so much, on both personal enrichment and professional advancement. So, because I only speak English, I'm a boring dolt at a dead-end job. Yay Americans.

DR: No, I don't think there's the "one" anymore. A wise, old friend used the illustration of the show Bachelor(ette) to indicate that the main person is conflicted primarily because there are so many very viable choices for a mate. If only in our real lives could we be presented with all those choices at one sitting. Since it doesn't, we'll have to make due one friendship at a time.

today: 7

How many packets of Equal in coffee, tea, cereal, fruit or cookies do you think starts being unhealthy?

Read this in an advice column:

My boyfriend of a few years (we're both in our mid-twenties) is moving back into his parents' house. His lease is up and he'll move into another place in about six months. I'm personally big on not relying on parents if you consider yourself an adult (he's not doing this out of necessity, just convenience), and I'm having a hard time respecting him because of it and am not looking forward to hanging out in his childhood bedroom. Am I being bratty about this?

-- East Coast

Do a lot of women feel this way?!?

I finally saw pictures of Julius. Though I kind of wonder why he's always in the same pose and wearing the same clothes despite different locales. Could it be that he's just a cardboard cutout?!

I'd vote for John Edwards. He has brown hair. I'm tired of old people running for President. But can we get one without an accent (not that there's anything wrong with that)?

As per New Year's resolution concerning reading:

Ask me at the end of this month whether I've finished the two books I've started:
1. The Best a Man Can Get (NOT some Promise Keepers book, heh heh; but some funny-British-Nick-Hornby-wanna-be stuff)
2. A Confederacy of Dunces

I am totally losing it! I put my ATM-and-credit-card-in-one into the machine this morning, punched in my code and amount and waited for the money. During the 15 seconds for the transaction, I noticed my credit card was missing. And I was upset over losing my credit card and wondering where the hell I lost it. Even after the money appeared out of the slot, I was still mad. I wasn't confused. I sincerely believed I had lost the credit card after getting a new MetroCard this morning. Anger dissipated only after I realized that I put said credit card into the ATM just moments before. Talk about attention deficit disorder.

Saddest thing: I was able to tape the SNL episode hosted by Gwyneth Paltrow, but it didn't have the "you don't know me !" skit.

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.