March 31, 2002

Easter Sunday with the family. I'm writing this a week later, so it isn't as fresh in my mind as it might otherwise be. Wasn't I going to start keeping these up to date, daily? Actually, I am getting better, but.

Mom neglected to tell me that everyone was going to be swimming in the pool after the Easter egg hunt. It's the second time this has happened. She says it's not true, but I think she doesn't want everyone to see me in a bathing suite. Too bad; now that I've been working out, I look damn good. :)

Except for my ugly knees.

They fixed a veggie burger for me, which was nice. Everyone pigged out on real burgers and sausages. I think they were sausages -- thick and short pieces of rolled pork product. Or something. Eating meat is mean. Really.

After things started breaking up a little, I turned on the laptop and got some work done. Quite a bit, actually. I should go to Easter celebrations more often. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it continued my reign as the anti-social queen of the family. But I really needed to catch up. If it weren't for Easter, I would have worked all weekend.

Later at home, I did some practice on the piano, installed some virus protection software on Mom's computer, fixed my Dad's remote headset so that he can hear the television and played with Pumpkin. She is the funniest, most adorable thing. She knows when I'm leaving; she gets mad at me and won't lick my nose.

March 30, 2002 through
March 29, 2002

A whole Saturday of sleeping and just a couple hours of work. As usual, I had more grandiose dreams for today. There is a project due Monday and the chances of me having it done are getting worse and worse. I also wanted to get some more writing done and maybe some piano practice. Blah, blah, blah.

What I did get done was my weekly personal training session with Casey. Workouts are definitely addictive. Though, I definitely wouldn't be getting any done if it weren't for having someone there with me. I'm not sure if the training is harder on my body or on my pocket book. But I have this idea in my head that in 60 years I'm going to look back at this as the best money I even spent.

There was a guy working out today who was about 60 years old. The only reason I know he age is because Casey happened to know it. Don't get me wrong, he didn't look 16, but he looked good. And he was healthy. For all the vitamins and medicine we use, the doctors we see and the creams that we smear, the secret to youth has always been within our grasp. And it's simple enough that we would rather ignore it.

Exercise. Laugh a lot. Drink plenty of water. Eat well. Get enough sleep.

Please note that I hereby patent and copyright that specific combination and that if you feel like using it, my fee is $130 per month. You may be reimbursable by insurance, but only if you can prove that you are horribly sick or dying.

Anyway, my secret to longevity is also my secret to getting a good afternoon's nap. Several good afternoon naps. I don't know if it's because I'm still out of shape, or because Casey kicks my ass so bad, but I'm just wiped out when I get home. That's the reason I moved the workouts from Wednesday to Saturday. It was making my Wednesdays very unproductive.

So worked out, ate, slept, did some work, ate, slept, watch some TV, slept, did some work. (Yes I have a problem with sleeping too much; it's getting bad again.) Then, came here to Mom's house to celebrate Easter tomorrow. For living so close by, I don't visit nearly enough. Mostly that is because of my so-called "grandiose weekend dreams" of productivity. If I would just admit that I'm not going to get done nearly as much as I think I am, I could just take a day out and come here to visit.

Mom has a little toy Pomeranian named Pumpkin, who I dearly love. (When I get home, I'll scan a picture in and add it to this log.) She is wonderfully loving, smart, playful and just all-around captivating. And, usually, not yappy at all. For some reason, she goes crazy for socks. The moment I take off my shoes she is bouncing around my feet. And once she gets them, she stops and makes these adorable baby sounds. I've never seen anything like in my life.

Actually, I've been thinking about getting some pets. This whole, "my soul is bleeding/lonely thing" has got to stop. I mean, I don't even know if I have the time to put into a relationship. I want one, but -- oh hell, I don't know. No use even writing about it now. It's just arm-chair philosophy. Anyway, I think that humans still need to love though. And a pet would be great for that -- before I forget how, or something.

My fear is that I won't be home enough -- although now that I work from home, that seems a little silly. And even if I spent fours hour on a Saturday at a couple coffee shops, that still isn't too long to be away.

Cats would be better for being able to take care of themselves. I could even be gone for a couple days if I got those feeding dishes that keep themselves full. But a couple Pomeranians would be more loving, I think. They're like little sponges -- never tiring of affection and love. And if I got any pets at all, I would get two so that they would also have each other.

The other good thing about getting a couple Poms would be that Mom could baby-sit them with Pumpkin if/when I have to travel for work. And they are small enough that they would be okay in the apartment until I eventually get a house.

Hmm. Would be a big decision...

On Friday I worked and then went to bed early. It was an eventful day really -- if you're a rock. The disappointing thing is that Friday is (apparently) hot-lesbo night at the Double Meat Palace. I've been thinking about it all week long. What will I wear? What book will I bring? How will I fix my hair? What time exactly should I show up? The answer to that last question turns out to have superceded the others.

It's the same old thing with me. I just can't imagine going there, alone again, to cruise and be cruised. I mean, how pathetic is it to go there single again hoping to get picked up. And, how obvious? That's the hard part -- the awkwardness. "I'm single, you're single, what more do we need?" Must... get... involved... with... a... volunteer... or... political... group...

Susan was saying the same thing at the music group a couple weeks ago. Dating is so awkward. We're worried about what to wear, how to act, what to say. We're always trying to be our best. It's so unnatural! She says she's been having a lot of luck meeting people at table tennis. After 15 years of marriage, she's enjoying an extended period of being single and making friends without all the awkward expectations...

Speaking of which, Yahoo chat looks like it might have hope. The first couple times I was on were dismal, depressing evenings. Sex, bad flirting, incoherent conversations, and babble. I was about to delete my ID, but Shack turned me on to the idea that people actually just sit in chat rooms as a way of aligning interest and then go looking for people to talk with one on one, or in private groups. So now, I've actually chatted with several nice people.

There is a weird freedom that comes with being anonymous. I feel like I can talk to people like I've known them forever. And the candor I use is like an intimate night of secret sharing with my best girlfriend. Maybe it helps too that everyone has been so far away. Tiger is way over in India, and Pixey is on the other side of the continent. (Hi, you two!) Another person was in Australia, and then one more person from India.

And isn't that funny? I decided not to use their full handles so as to protect an already anonymous identity. :) It's like a James Bond movie on this web site -- mystery, shrouded in secrets, hidden away, and veiled in deep shadow. Well, and all my most personal secrets out in the open for the world to see. But, besides that, a great big mystery!

March 28, 2002

Is there much to write about today? Last night, er, this morning, I got to sleep at 4:30am. Somehow I managed to wake up at 9:30am for my conference call. Today has been nothing but work, all the way up to about 8:30pm when I came here -- the Scream'n Bean. They are talking about getting a wireless Internet service. There is a company that will set everything up for them and pay all the cost; then they get a cut of the deal.

I looked it over, found the catch, and it still looks like it would be a nice thing for them. This city is really starting to turn around. And, I'm getting old. Can you guess the question in my mind? I'm not going to mention it again. At least not for a day or two.

EMC did great today in market. It erased all my losses, though I'm still a teeny bit in the red with commissions. I need it to get to about $12.50 to make any money, and I'm hoping it will go to $16 or $18 like the analyst are predicting. Tech stocks are still a huge gamble. EMC is struggling to be profitable again. But it's hard not to look at the prices now with drool. When I sold Sun Microsystems during the dot-com collapse, I got $100 a share. Now it's trading for around $8. Besides, I think they do have the best enterprise storage around, and so I think something is going to happen for them.

Of course it's hard to consider stocks that have inflated P/E's or are bleeding money. But that really has nothing to do with the price of tea in China except so much as it influences the perception of other investors. Actually, I don't even think there was anything wrong with buying Cisco a year and a half ago so long as you were aware that you needed to sell before popular perception tanked. So long as you were aware that it was a short term stock and not a long term investment.

My mom, and so many others, made that mistake. She had tons of her retirement money in tech stocks. I thought she had a broker watching her portfolio, but it turns out she didn't. But is the stock market a safe place for anyone's money? Ever? Even long term? Sure, over the course of a lifetime people have realized significant gains, but I still don't get it. The "secondary" market that we all know and love is an abstraction like chess. It's not real. You can't do anything with it except realize puny dividends on occasion, or sell it.

Last person caught holding the hot-potato loses. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think so. I acknowledge, however, that it is inseparable from our economy. And apparently the creation of a strong market is essential when other small countries try to strengthen or create their own economies. But something's not right. I can't put my finger on it any more than that; maybe one day I'll get to take some economics classes.

Yea! Hmm, you know? I think I might be kinda weird.

Anyway, having money in the stock market is a great way to learn about it. Suddenly, I care again. My 401k doesn't really count. It's made up of funds that are made up of many stocks and such. Very diversified. And the whole strategy there is to grow long term. Theoretically, I should be doing something similar with my taxable investments -- but I'm just playing right now.

Yesterday I signed up for a real-time quote streaming service. It's only ten dollars a month and I get the first three months free, so I figured what the hell. It's cool! Totally worth it.

It's all just one more thing to learn though. The interesting twist is story behind all of this is that I've become interested in money. That's never really happened before -- I've always considered it the bane of any worthwhile use of time. Having a little bit now helps I guess. But I'm also playing with the idea of spending money on money. I've become something of a compulsive spender anyway, so this is almost like a compromise for saving. And it helps to think of money and growing money as a project or hobby, instead of an imperative.

So that's about it. The power company never called me back today. Monopolies are bad. Monopolies that you have to depend on for your day to day existence are super bad. They could tell me to lick their ass if I don't want my power turned off and I would have to do it. Eventually and with enough effort I could get them to acknowledge that making me lick there ass was wrong, and that I'm never going to do that again, but I still would have licked it.

Oh, and there was a conference call during the end of the day that I did reasonably well on. I'm so damn intimidated and insecure in this job. When I have a good call like that, it makes my day. Speaking of insecurity, I realized recently that I suffer from it in a bad way. That will be a journal entry sometime soon.

March 27, 2002 through
March 14, 2002

Dear Diary,
Have I even mentioned to you how fast time seems to fly? Yes? Oh. Well never mind then. What? Yes, that is why I haven't updated the daily log in so long. Yeah. You're ready for a new notebook? Hmm, okay. Just a few more pages and we'll get one.

Wednesday the 27th. A day of administrivia and work. Canceling gym old membership. My power company wants me to pay a deposit now and I'm fighting with them. Checking up other bills. Being confounded at work. But I got some good news.

My new financial planner had a mortgage broker call me tonight. She seems to think that my credit is good and that I could get approved for a mortgage without any problem. All I need to do is give her a price -- preferably based on a property in which I'm interested. That's cause for celebration. And yet, I'm so task orientated at the moment, I'm forgetting to be excited. Shouldn't I be celebrating tonight?

It brings up the now hackneyed topic of "where do I want to live?" If I were to ever try to adopt -- I couldn't do it in FL. And even if I had a partner with children, the education system here isn't what I would call ideal. And am I ever going to meet someone down here anyway?

Of course, I've been realizing how much better it has become. Where once there were scarcely any coffee shops, there are now many. The wine bar is fabulous. We have a symphony, which I just found out about, dedicated to supporting women composers -- the only in the country. The weather, except for several summer months, is great. And Florida i beautiful in the places that haven't been paved for strip malls.

Maybe I just need to quit my damn complaining and realize what I have. When I was in OSU in Columbus, I did the same thing. It had a lot going for it, but I was largely too busy complaining. Though part of that was a function of Jess' discontent -- but that's another story.

Also, got to play some more Chess with Jen. I'm on a roll! Three won games and a draw. She hates losing about as much as I do. I suspect I better be on guard for some heavy duty rematches in the next couple of weeks. God, I've missed chess.

Boring -- yesterday was Tuesday the 26th. What did I do yesterday? I don't think I can remember. Actually, now I do -- I didn't go out anywhere and fell asleep early. That made it easier to wake up Wednesday morning, but after I did some work, I feel asleep again.

Oh, and I updated the web site! Sometimes, even though I do an entry on the laptop, I'm too tired when I get home to updated the site; and so the entries sit in my "Desktop" folder... Waiting...

Monday I canceled my piano lesson. I did hardly any studying at all. This is the third week that my preparation has been terrible, and I just couldn't face Louis again. I think he'd be happy to see me and just work on something, and I'd by happy to see him but there is this question of pride. Or maybe that's the wrong word. How can I expect him to take me seriously as a student, if I don't come to my lessons prepared?

It's that saying again: "Better not to show up at all than to show up late." A wisdom that is certainly not always true, yet sometimes is.

Additionally, I wanted to get more done at work. I've developed a recently challenge working from home. I'm a night owl. I don't understand why, and I really wish that I did; but, there it is. And working from home, I've begun to start sleeping in and/or taking naps during the day -- and then doing my work in the evening when my body starts to come alive.

The problem is, because I haven't officially logged out during the day, and because I sorta feel like I should be working, I don't getting anything else done. It would be one thing to do piano, or writing, etc during the day and work at night, but I'm doing nothing. Then, having to catch up on work in the evening, I'm not getting personal goals accomplished. All-in-all, it's a negative situation.

Better would be, going to bed earlier, waking up early, accomplishing my personal agenda with the day's new energy, then working, then farting around in the evening. It would also be nice if everyone were beautiful, walked around naked or in bath robes, and had sex or played the harp all day to pass the time. What was that planet on Star Trek?

Well, I've got to do something. I'm losing too much time to vegging and zoning. If I were going to be comfortable with that, I'd be playing Everquest again.

The writer's group was supposed to be on Sunday. Matthew also showed up this week, but we didn't have it. Instead we sat around and talked with Amy, which was nice too. He's a vegetarian too, so we eventually ran across the street to a middle eastern restaurant for some dinner. Specifically, I think it was Lebanese but I'm actually not sure.

Mathew is the type of person that makes me wish I was a gay man. And, a bit younger (although I've been wish the younger-thing anyway). Yummy. Somehow I brought up the subject of my journal entry on perspectives -- which I haven't finished yet. I was saying that nothing other than sheer exhaustion will be the motivation for people to finally quit hating and be kind to one another.

He didn't agree and thought instead that it was just a matter of effort. People have to realize that if they are not part of the solution, they are part of the problem. And to make that change requires deliberate effort. So I was sitting there eating my very tasty baba ganoush and pita, with the sun going down, and the perfect weather and I though "That's totally it."

It's not enough to care -- although that's a big step for a lot of people. You have to put in the effort. And that is something I've been grossly lacking over the past several years. Lot's of caring. No effort into doing anything about it.

So I've been stopped dead in my tracks while writing a journal entry. I'm not sure what to do now. I mean, it's a journal entry. It doesn't have to be right. It just has to be me. But now I've changed my mind. I suppose I just need to stop allowing myself the luxury of writing entries over the span of multiple days because then they become more like essays.

Categories, labels, categories. I think it's the whole techie career thing....

I finally broke down on Saturday and bought Microsoft's Encarta 2002 Reference Library. I've been wanting an information resource that I could take with me on the laptop -- and Encarta (CD version) lets you install and run everything from the hard drive.

I rushed to the Double Meat Palace to install it and then catch up on some writing and guess what? Yeppers -- wouldn't install. They packaged the CDs in a large cardboard sleeve that is excessively tight. My first CD was marked and had CRC errors when trying to read on of the install files.

Saturday was supposed to be my super-productive writing day! "There isn't any time to go back to the store, wait in the scorned customers return line and then try the installation again!" Although, that's what I did. And the line did take forever. And I did refuse a second package that looked like it had another scratch.

All that being completed, finally I had it installed on my computer. I have mixed feelings about it. The dynamic map is awesome and lots of fun. But accessing the dictionary via the encyclopedia is kludge-y. They have something called "Fact Finder," which might be cool if it didn't require a damn Internet connection. Microsoft, hello? DUH! Idiots. It's not a feature, it's a bug. This is part their "Our software is married to the web so that it's always up to date and dynamic! And, oh by the way: In a year you'll have to pay for the subscription."

Good try. In a year, I'm going to try out Britannica's encyclopedia. It nice software; don't get me wrong. But it isn't that nice. And the articles seem really short to me.

Friday was the night of endless goddess at the Double Meat Palace. I almost didn't even go in because I couldn't find any place to park and figured there would be no room to even sit down. I was basically right, but I had no idea that there would be so many women! Apparently gay women in this town only have coffee en mass on Friday nights. Who knew?

Needless to say, I'll be back this Friday to "be seen." In my journal I mentioned how hopeless it is to meet people by chance. But at that the same time, it would be nice to at least get in the community. Any community.

Later, at the Scream'n Bean I ran in into Jen and we ended up talking and then playing chess for the first time in many-many full moons. And she completely remembers telling me to go down to the college to look for piano lessons. Having an online journal is weird -- especially a so-called anonymous one. Sometimes lately I've been talking with people and thinking "Hey! You read that in my journal!"

It's not like the idea is completely far fetched. Many of the people I know locally are writers. And Jennifer (not piano/chess Jen) recommended reading journal that had just won a diarist.net award. I was so bad when she said it! I think it went something like "Eh? People post their journals online?"

And the day after I wrote about being hugged-depraved, I got a bunch of hugs. BTW, if anyone I know is reading, I sure could use some extra cash... Or a shoulder massage? Of course, now I'm just being paranoid. But, it's a funny feeling. It didn't occur to me until recently that the "anonymous journal" concept might be a hard one to pull off if you are on Damn Hell Ass Kings and in all the search engines.

I need to read Harriet the Spy.

Thursday, I was on-call as usual. I also managed to sneak to the Scream'n Bean for some coffee and R&R. Actually, I didn't get paged until three in morning. It was for a customer that is actually in Italy.

The telco we had engaged for the call was actually based in Belgium. OMG. I'm in love. These particular people spoke French, which was nice to listen to in the background. They were SO much smarter than their counter parts here. And when we were put on hold, it wasn't the top 40 crap normally heard, it was Chopin!. And actually a Nocturne I used to play, even.

<sigh>

Wednesday I was reminded that I need to be doing these logs on the same day. It is really the only way to capture the spirit of the moment.

Mom and I had a great talk about where I may or may not want to live. Maybe now, a week later, I can't capture my emotion quite as well. It was something like love, relief and concern all rolled into one.

She was just great. She said that I need to live and do what is right for me, and that she will go wherever I end up; that she has had here time, and that I shouldn't be making decisions to please her. What do you say to something like that? Just "I love you." And "Thanks Mom."

Of course, I'm still concerned that she doesn't want to leave Florida. She is going to need someone to help her as she gets older, and I don't want to be so selfish. I've played my fair share of the "it's my life" game. And this city isn't nearly as bad as it was five or six years ago... At any rate, things are starting to fall into place and I'll have made a decision by year's end I'm sure.

Tuesday, March 19th. The second gathering of the music group. I played Chopin's Preludes No. 15 and 20 from Opus 28. All-in-all, I think I played much better than the first recital. Although, interestingly, my stage fright was much worse. For some reason it is painfully easy to have memory slips on No. 20 and as my turn was coming up I suddenly couldn't remember how it went -- and I was playing from memory.

But no memory slips there! It's an interesting phenomenon about which several great pianists have spoken. The idea is that, although we don't like stage fright, it makes the performance alive and actually helps us play better if we approach it correctly. Some performers have actually taken drugs to help eliminate their stage fright, but go on to give uninteresting and uninspired performances.

Still the sound could have been much better. My preparation for the evening was less than adequate. And I'm wondering, is this how I will act for the rest of my life? If so, I will have cheated myself of a dream. I need to grow up and become more responsible. (As I write this at 3am...)

There is much more that could be said about the evening, but I should have written a journal entry and I need to move on.

My piano lesson was Monday, as usual. I played the No. 6 Prelude by Chopin and also performed the two pieces which I played the next day, on Tuesday. He wants me to put away No. 15 for awhile saying that I've spent too much time on it. Later, I can come back, with a fresh perspective, and improve upon it.

Wisdom as usual. But the truth of the matter is that I practiced it very little -- and certainly not in any way that might be construed as proper, correct or effective.

I'm detecting a theme in my journal. Self-loathing. And I don't deny it. I've been disappointed in my level of responsibility and the amount of moping in which I've allowed myself to indulge. I have goals and dreams that I've articulated, but I'm not going to achieve them at this rate.

So, not surprisingly, these log entries are getting shorter and shorter -- a function of fatigue and failed memory. Sunday, I didn't wake up until two in the afternoon. I went to the Double Meat and Scream'n Bean and did some writing. Probably I ate lunch and dinner out as well, though I'm not sure. Those things took the better part of the day.

Sunday night though, I was feeling unusually, um, saucy. I acted upon it with rare form.

All the way back to Saturday March 16. Three more days of log writing to go . It's now 3:30am in the here and now. I have a feeling I'm about to switch to bulleted lists.

The only thing I really remember about this day was that it was dead at the Scream'n Bean. A group of people had shown up to take away a couch which Amy said they could have following a bout of Spring Cleaning.

Later, I was talking with one of the guys and he said he would be interested in coming to the writer's group. From the clear vantage point of the future, I now know that fate didn't intend for him to come -- which is a pity. He seemed like a fun guy who could add something to the group. Maybe he'll come for the next meeting, though I wonder if Amy is going to give up on them.

Friday night was interesting and fun. It started out by running into Jen. We talked for a long while. Then Paige and I talked for a longer time. She didn't have a chair to sit in, and was sitting on the floor, so I got out of my chair and sat on the floor too. But then, that looked kind of silly with the empty chair, so I pulled up a picture of George Sand on the laptop and put it in the chair so she could sit with us.

Then, in stark contrast to my perceptions last week, I was invited to go out with a few people from Scream'n Bean. Paige and Matthew where there; Jacob showed up too, later. It was late, so we went to Steak 'n Shake, had some food and talked about masturbation. Perfectly fine. Perfectly normal. Well, that's not all we talked about. And the conversation wouldn't have even stood out in memory -- I've had frank conversations before. But, it was probably the first time, though, the person waiting on our table thought it was interesting enough to involved in.

And she had no problem asking questions from across the room while she worked! That's okay. It was a hoot and the place was mostly deserted. Heh -- actually it was kinda of great. If I was still waiting on table I would be doing the same thing. We all had a blast and stayed there until five in the morning. I mean, you have to be having fun if you stay at Steak 'n Shake for over three hours.

As we were leaving, Jacob said I could jam with him sometime if I wanted. I'm not sure I would know where to begin playing jazz, but I'm really delighted that he asked. All of my fears last week about being alienated and only partially friends with the people I've been meeting seem bogus. Yea me!

And that just leaves March 14th, Thursday. The day was clear to me at the time! Certainly something happened of note? It is also possible that I slipped into a sub-space anomaly and lost a whole day. Or perhaps, I was abducted by fluffy shaped alies. If I did, I can't remember any of it now.