Palm Sunday

Last year, all the Brooklyn family that could make it came over for dinner. It was our first family event. I was married, had a house, two cats and a dog and suddenly I was hosting a holiday dinner. How the hell did this happen? Despite my misgivings, I managed a ham, pork roast and garlic roasted potatoes along with some appetizers. Dinner was a success and everyone had a good noisy time. People just stayed at our huge dining room table and ate and joked and laughed.

So one year ago I was in my kitchen with my sister by my side to guide and supervise me. We laughed, talked about food and just were together. It was great. It was moments like that that made me want to go to the FCI and somehow, eventually, work together. What a difference a year makes. This Palm Sunday she's gone and I'm sick with some sort of cold / sinus infection and cooking is something I tend to avoid these days. I guess its part self punishment and part pain avoidance. If I just make eggs I want to go to cooking school and all it takes is that bit of cooking to make me think of Jenn and her missed opportunities. She knew I wanted to go, but I know she also felt that the reality of the industry might be too much what with the low starting salary and tough hours. It takes a lot of sacrifice to be a chef. If you want to learn more about it, read Making of a Chef: Mastering Heat at the Culinary Institute of America. There is one incident in the book I am indirectly involved in - back in 1996 there was one hella blizzard and the author describes trying to get to class from Poughkeepsie to Hyde Park. At the same time back then I was trying to make it from Hartsdale to Peekskill. A 20 min trip to 4hours that night. The author actually gets taken to task for not showing up to class in a blizzard that had already dumped around 4 feet of snow. That's the type of industry it is and that's the expectation. Jenn excelled there. She'd found her calling. That's more than I can say.

Anyway, this week is a week of healing and redemption and mercy and though my faith is hardly what it once was I find myself humbled and praying for her.

Strat and The Ultimate Fighter

I was at Sfumato's last night to play our first Strat series . We lost, 3 games to 4 but all things considered it was a good showing. Our team is crap and we have to manage each game like a World Series game in order to give ourselves a chance. If we even come close to contending, the season will be a brilliant success. More than the game though, I enjoy hanging out with Sfumato. Strat is merely an excuse to get together and BS and just put life on hold for few hours and concentrate on weighty issues like whether to bring in Bruce Chen or play Alex Sanchez in CF against a lefty or consider the merits of bunting with Matt Lawton.

After the series was over we BS'd about a few things for a while - a long while actually. Long enough to catch the midnite showing of the Ultimate Fighter on Spike.

I have two comments on the episode:

1. Sam needs to get whacked around. Granted, editing can make anyone look bad on camera, but even so.... Sam has to get a beat down. That fake smile fake good guy look of his grates on me.
2. I'm still amazed how fast the tide can turn in one of these fights. Underdog Beard Guy came out throwing and opened a nice cut on Bald Crazy Guy but could not capitalize on it. If he had managed to go down in the center of the octogon or been able to throw some more strikes at that big cut, things might have turned out better for him. Instead he got taken down, put into side control and mounted in a hearbeat. Then the pummeling begins. It just goes to reinforce the scoring sytem in BJJ - the mount is a good place to be in a real fight.

Misery

I'm sick and I'm freaking miserable. My right eye and nostril are running like finely tuned high performance Italian engines. Just the right side though. The left eye and nostril live now in constant fear wondering when the germ gestapo is going to bang the door down. Trapped they sit there and quiver in fear.

The dastardly sickness started creeping up on Friday afternoon. By the evening it was looking to get a superior position and score some points before trying to sink in a wicked face flood hold. No sleep last night except for maybe 30 min here and 30 min there. Things really started to look great when my tissues were pink with blood around 3:45AM.

Oh yeah - this is great. Love it.

Jedi Philosophy and CSS Image Replacement

About two hours ago I hung up on a friend. Just clicked end because I was pissed off and frustrated.

Did he bang my wife? Drink my liquor? Wreck my car? Steal my stereo? Tell me I was a amoral crazed libertine? Were we arguing over social security? The Iraq war?

Nope.

The crux of the debate centered around CSS image replacement techniques. Yeah -- "What the hell is that?" you might be thinking. Well its a geek thing and the argument we had / are having is about as divided as you can get. Like North Vs. South divided. It might seem stupid outside of IT, but you should just see how hostile things can get between say, an open source unix guy and well, anyone not using that platform. It gets ugly folks. Who knew, right?

We (my friend and I) just see things differently. There really is no right or wrong - its what works for you and what works for your clients. Still though, I get tired of having to defend shit. Every new technique that comes out on the web is not a hack. Not all old techniques are hacks either but time and progress does march on.

I guess my problem stems from the word hack - to me it has a derogatory connotation. I prefer the terms "method" or solution for my side of things. My buddy views image replacement techniques as a hack because he thinks they use the background property in CSS for a purpose other than which it was intended, namely to display an image which itself displays text or something like Britney Spears in a see through top or some such. A background, he thinks, should be just that, an abstract thing sitting behind the element like a color or a gradient pattern. If it has meaning of somesort, he wants it in an image tag. If its a spacer GIF, that's ok too. Moreover he sees it as hypocritical - because the same crowd, in general, that espouses this technique as capital G Good, and which he sees as a hack, decries the use of tables for anything other than a debit credit ledger or a phone list. See, tables were not meant to be layout elements, but people adapted them to it. Now people are using the background of elements to do funny things with image replacement and that's just crazy talk.

Me, I'm a bit of a tech crow. I like shiny sites. I like nice fonts and good design and clean crisp images and strong use of photography (within limits of the site objective, of course). To me the image replacement techniques are great. You get to have your cake and eat it too. In the end the site looks better, is accessible and indexable. Win Win Win. Moreover I like things modularized. I like the idea of markup that is ready to go anywhere and can be styled however it needs to be and still stay presentation free.

Still though, its a silly thing to be getting into a fight with a friend with. Of course, I really don't think he even thought we were having a fight. He wasn't. Me on the other hand...I was., I was just getting more and more pissed off and frustrated. Frustration leads to anger and anger leads to the Dark Side and bad dialogue that sounds like it was translated to German and back to English. Silly Silly.

Side bar -
Other 'hacks" (usage of something for other than what it was intended):

• The Wright Brothers Airflow Technique (man was not meant to fly -- but we do FALL really well)
• The Cousteau Drowning Negation Method (we do drown very well)
• The Commuter Lap Beverage Implementation (hey look a place for this 200 degree cup of coffee!)
• The Angry Wife Rolling Pin / Frying Pan Kinetic Solution (eh heh).

End side bar

Ultimately, it seems man just does what he can with what he's got and we all do the best we can. What more can we ask of ourselves?

On the mat

3 keylocks and an armbar for submissions tonight. Granted the guy is newer than me and has been missing class lately too. He's strong though, and close to me in weight.

What the hell though. For now, I'll take it. Its when I start holding my own / submitting most of the other white belts that I'll be ready to test for Blue. Its not happening yet -- but barring another injury that time is right around the corner. I'm feeling my Wheaties.

The Token Boarder

I took up snowboarding about 4 years ago after a long respite from winter sports. In my younger years as a pre-teen and teen I skied fairly often and with pretty decent finesse. Of course, having family on the ski patrol to teach me and follow down the mountain really helped. To me skiing was always a lot like skating but with just really long skates. But at some point I just lost interest and stopped. From about 20 or so to 33 there was no skiing and no snowboarding. So typical of me to stop something like that.

Anyhoo - fat and out of shape I just decided to give it a try. Plus I needed an outlet for the frustration of being jobless at the time - Texaco had let me go in November. The first day was brutal and I landed on my ass and face planted more times than I could count. Toward the end of that first day though I strung together a bit of a run here and there - managed to link a turn or two and, man, what a great feeling. I was hooked and immediately got the vibe of it. My enthusiasm for it intrigued my friend Paul and he was hooked soon too. I remember on our first day together at Hunter sitting in the lodge with him and talking about how much we missed by just staying on campus so much at Fordham. Sure it was great, but we were like -- man what a scene we missed!

I've gotten better since that first day and always board, for a while at least, with my uncle Tommy, the now retired ski patroler. He's really good and if I can keep up even a little on my slow ass board its a good thing.

This past weekend we were up in the Catskills visiting the three bears (Eileen, Tommy, Christine) at their weekend ski chalet in Hensonville. The idea was to drive up on Friday, hit the mountain on Saturday and then go to a beach party at some friend of The Bears and then either hit the mountain again on Sunday or just recuperate.

Well, we managed to make it up on Friday in the middle of a snowstorm that miraculously did not stick at all to the ground while we made our way up from Westchester. We hung out and chatted a little bit and watched Riley the bunny jump around a bit. Yeah, that's right - Riley the bunny. Christine wanted a pet, knew she'd get killed for a dog so she got a bunny instead. At first, Riley was Hunny Bunny but then Hunny's ballz dropped and voila - Riley. Don't ask me why. No idea.

Saturday morning comes and Tommy and I head out to the mountain, but not after a bit of confusion as to how we were getting there. Tommy thought we would take my car, I thought we would take their car, since Clarisa was going shopping with Christine and Eileen thought we were going to go with a friend of theirs, Spencer. After a bit of consternation it all works out and we hit the mountain and I get to board for the first time all year (thanks to the sprained foot back in December). No one is on the mountain and its fresh snow. Not powder really, but Eastern Powder and mostly undisturbed. We go right to the top and after a few runs I'm following Tommy and Spencer down some black diamond trails and even hit a trail on Hunter's west side. Did I bomb down, no. But at this point I'm not just turning my board into a big snowplow either. Eventually Tommy ditched me (the token boarder) so he could make some runs on his own at his own pace of 9.81 meters per second squared and spend some time with his large crew of Hunter friends. I make a few runs on my own, get a coffee at the Skytop cafe and head down to chill out on a deck chair because the sun has come out and my legs are asking for a break.

We meet up and get a little nosh afterward and head over around 5pm for the beach party. Man, talk about a party crew. These people dance, drink and just "party" like the 70's never ended. So a fun time with them is always guaranteed. And since we've been hanging out with Tommy and Eileen more, we are starting to get to know their other friends and can actually mingle a bit now. Its really nice. It makes me hope that our crew can get it together like this someday. That would be nice too.

Good Achey Feeling

While no camel clutches or figure 4 leg locks were applied, as one commenter hilariously suggested, I did manage to make it to 2 (count 'em) BJJ classes in a row. While there was no fanfare or big group hug -- I could tell the guys I know there were happy to see me and it was great to see the familiar faces of my BJJ boudreaus. The workouts were not too bad either, mainly because of the classes I chose to go to. Tuesday nights tend to be medium intensity and the Weds early class is about the same or a bit lower. Fortunately, on the first day I got to work out with Alan, a really big blue belt that put up a fight but let me work at the same time. Its cool when someone is willing to coach you a little bit rather than just crush you. Lets face it, at this point I need coaching.

I ache today, but its a good type of ache that comes from honest effort. Its the thank you your body gives you for actually using it. It could be worse. I could be a massive pile of quivering torn muscle, but I'm not. I guess the time I put in at Crunch helped. Also, in a way, the worst is over because I've overcome the inertia of not going to BJJ / exercising and replaced it with activities (my wife will swear to you they do) make me happy.

Plus, a part of me just loves to kick ass.

Going back to the mat.

Tomorrow I'm going back to BJJ for the first time since my injury back on December 18th. That's about 2 and a half months, yeah? I've been working out at Crunch and running and all of that and doing the Abs Diet thing -- but nothing really works you out like BJJ and a part of me is dreading my body's reaction.

I know my heart is going to feel like its going to explode in my chest sometime tomorrow. I know I'm out of shape still despite working out at Crunch. I know my body is going to ache and I realize that this is probably not the last time I'm going to be injured doing this. I realize that I'm probably going to tap out a bunch of times. But I need to go back because I love it, and I know that in a few weeks my heart will not want to explode anymore and I'll be back in the groove.

Bottom line - I love to compete. And while BJJ is competition against others to an extent, it really comes down to a competition with yourself. How hard are you willing to work?

The Catch Up

Well, seeing as how I'm behind a bit, lets start with last weekend...

The long holiday weekend was spent doing nothing and doing it very well. Well, not nothing mind you - but nothing mentally or physically taxing. Nothing. Its the new slacking. The nothing consisted of:

Friday: A fine dinner at Zanaro's, a new Italian restaurant in White Plains NY. The service was great, the food was good and its just kind of cool eating in the old atrium of a huge 1930's bank. Leaving the place, we noted that Trump is putting up a building right across the street from it. While part of me thinks it would be financially smart and sound to buy a place in there sight unseen, I think we would never be able to pay for it. :-P Its friggen White Plains!!

Saturday: A matinee of Million Dollar Baby. Yep, that's right. I finally wore Clarisa down and we saw it. The bonus was that I managed not to hear about its big plot twist by avoiding all reviews and articles and shutting down any conversations about it. As for the movie itself -- Its a Movie. A Film and as such carries with it the gravitas only Eastwood seems to be bringing these days. Like most great drama's (aka "life issues" movie) MDB is imbued with the complexity, beauty
and strain of relationships. Its amazing how much you can learn about characters in a short time when the filmmaker knows what they are doing. MDB stands in stark contrast to Sunday's fare....

Sunday: We saw Constantine. Somehow, I think the Mad magazine parody of it might be better. Like Clarisa said, "I like this movie better when it was called The Prophecy", specifically referring to Satan's cameo in both those films that elevated them slightly. The thing that makes comic books / graphic novels great issue after issue is not so much the art and not so much the special effects (and face it, there can be TONS - its just extra ink and imagination vs. a roomful of programmers) but the characters. Readers come back for the characters and the style of the art -- which can be likened to a film's cinematography, I guess. A lot of times, it seems that comic based film's can't do the characters justice. Everything is rushed, the exposition is awkward and too long and generally, they just suck. And I hate having to say that.

Monday: Alias DVD viewing interspersed with Desert Combat Blasting -- ah the joys of leaving a game for a bit and coming back to it to find that while there is a new release out, the game has about 1/8th of the servers hosting it that it used to. DC seems to be on the shnide. Regardless, you can't play on all of the servers at once anyway -- so if there's just one available with a good mix of guys that's good enough for me!. The new maps are interesting and added some new twists to things.

So, yeah, the Alias DVD quest continues (just finished season 2!)...Ever since we caught the two hour premier of the Alias this year, we got hooked and decided to get caught up by Netflixing all the previous shows. So now during on any idle block of time that happens to be non Gilmour Girls / One Tree Hill / CSI /Deadwood (you need to watch this just for Al Sweraangen, played with moxie by Ian McShane)/Dead Like Me (another must see) time, we race through season after season and episode after episode trying to catch up with the very active Bristow family. Some odd things happen when you concentrate episodes that are supposed to be a week or weeks apart. One, you start to see all the plot devices revealed in stark Groundhog Day clarity. Lets just say I really did not want to see Sidney and Vaughn meet in that cyclone fence cage again, for one thing. Two, its possible to OD on Jennifer Garner. You just can't take anymore. After three episodes in a row, we get to the point where Clarisa is like a marathon runner unable to stop and I have double over and puke on the side of the Alias DVD highway. Generally, the only solution to an Alias OD is to blast something in Desert Combat. A more productive thing might be to play guitar I guess...

Anyhoo, that was the weekend. The work week was actually a little interesting this time around. I've been helping out one of the programmers with the CSS for some basic layouts. He is resistant to change, but he's getting it and most importantly he's letting me work on it because he knows I'm climbing the walls there. Thing is, when the pages are done...its back to a big case of ennui.

Last night Clarisa came down into the city and we went to see Billy Connolly at The Town Hall. The seats were close up, but way over to the left side so we had a bit of a hard time hearing him at points over the laughter. I guess the sound waves had a hard time making a right angle turn out of the speaker. Regardless, he was funny as hell. He did some bits on getting older and how he pays his kids to tell him if they catch him doing typical old people moves. "Here's 5 quid -- now you tell me if I smell of piss!" He did another bit bemoaning the fate of American cars. "They're all beige! Or, you know, like some beigeish color. You used to have Big Red Cadillacs, Blue ThunderBirds and we loved them. What the fuck did you do to them!?" Stuff like that. Well IT WAS FUNNY WHEN HE SAID IT! After the show we walked around Times Square and checked out the Virgin Megastore for a little while. We came out empty handed because every CD we looked we thought "ah - lets just get what we want on iTunes" and for every DVD we saw, we thought 'We can get it on eBay cheaper". So take that Branson.

Oh and on a side note, yesterday I was in the Suncoast in the Manhattan Mall and saw a Detroit Red Wing Best Of DVD that has games going back from 1996 or so -- and includes the fantastic March 1997 game where all hell breaks loose as Darren McCarty goes after Claude Lemieux for injuring Chris Draper months earlier in the season. I saw that game live and remember screaming and whooping at the TV in bloodthirsty glee as the Wings and the 'Lanche mixed it up old school style. The 40 bucks or so for the DVD is worth it just for that intense game which cemented Detroit vs Colorado as one of the biggest sports rivalries. Man, what a great team Detroit fielded over the years since 1996. And what a shame Stevie Y is probably done for and never got the farewell from the fans he deserved. Here's to you Steve. And while I'm here let me just say,

Bettman you can go fuck yourself for destroying hockey..you SOB!

Correction

In my last post, I said I did not condone what Hunter did. While letting that remark stand, I'd also like to clarify what I meant without getting to deep into a very emotionally charged subject with vast religious and philosophical overtones.

In general, I don't condone suicide. I'm pretty sure I'm in agreement with a lot of people when I say that. Its a bad thing and the language we use to talk about it reflects that. Often words like "senseless" and "selfish" and "cowardly" get thrown about when suicide is discussed. Let me say this though - while those words might be applicable in a general sense, not all suicides are created equal and none are the same. Depending on circumstance suicide can be senseless or it can also be a very lucid final act of control, especially when the life you want to live is no longer possible. So, while I don't condone it, I can, in some instances, respect the choice. From what I've been reading, the general take on Hunter's death seems to be the latter - an act of control.

Sometimes I think its a desperate escape. In the summer of 1985 (does my memory fail me?) my friend Dave R. and I found out that a our good friend Dan had killed himself. Dan had moved to the Carolina's with his family months before and he was going to school down there and he had a girlfriend he'd met down there. We were still in school but it was near the end because all of the trees were green and it was really warm out. Dave had got the news from a phone call at school and told me. I remember being shocked and devasted. We just walked out of school, right past the principal who said nothing to us and out into the brightness of the day. We found a six pack and drank in the woods near his house and just talked. I can't remember what about exactly but it was about what you would expect -- ruminations on the meaning of life and just remembering Dan. Later on some details came to us, like how Dan had hung himself in the basement of his house. That he had leaned into the rope and that his knees were almost touching the ground. At any second while he was stil conscious, all he had to do was stand up. He never did. I also heard some rumors about his homelife that were said to be a factor but it was all basically heresay so I can't speak to that. I can't say for Dan what it was - senseless or a choice. The younger you are, the more senseless it seems. There's still potential and the life story is hardly written at 15. Your problems are workable. How horrible to be in a place where you can't see that anymore.

Months later I recalled a brief conversation with Dan. He had already moved and was up visiting for a bit. We had been drinking (go figure that one) and we were hoofing through the woods somewhere from point A to point B and just talking and making jokes and remarks back to one another. Finally I remember Dan had said something that night about killing himself. It was so casual and off the cuff, and we were both so drunk that I just dismissed it right away with "Don't be fucking stupid. There's a lot to live for." and we just continued our night of getting buzzed without thinking about it or talking about anymore. When I finally remembered that conversation, I felt guilty for a while that I had not said or done more. I'm great at blaming myself. Its even probably a little self centered of me to think that I could have made a difference somehow.

Dave and I have since drifted apart for whatever reason and aside for some bad poetry I wrote in college, Dan rarely comes to my mind.

Dave R. - if you are out there and see this, shoot me an email. I hear you are nurse working on a medi-vac helo crew. That's great to hear. So if you feel like it - give me a shout.

Goodbye, Hunter

I was checking the frontpage of www.ntytimes.com last night around 11:15pm or so when I saw a new headline that wasn't there when I checked around 10pm (Its an OCD sort of thing I've developed since 9/11 - check check check the news). And here was a headline telling me Hunter S. Thompson, co-founder of Gonzo Journalism had taken his life. I sat for a second and thought about it and let it soak in.

"Aww no..." I thought. I also immediately thought of my estranged friend Tom who was a bigger Thompson fan than I. At least back when we spoke regularly he was. Anyway, I walked into the bedroom and told Clarisa what I had just read.

"Really? Wow.' She paused and looked briefly at her laptop screen, but saw nothing and looked back up at me. "In way, that makes sense.' she paused again."That's the end of something, isn't it?".

I thought about what she said for a second and I had to agree. I knew what she meant -- that it was more than Hunter that had just died. An age of sorts has passed. The voice of Gonzo Journalism silenced himself and left us to fend for ourselves in this land that I see quietly creeping toward Orwellian prognostications. And how was he supposed to leave this earth? Dying slowly in a nursing home? It just seems to fit that this is how it would end for him. By no means do I condone it and I hope I never face such a choice but it seems to fit, though I'd rather it not.

While not a regular reader, I always found it comforting to know that he was out there doing his thing; thinking bounding thoughts and experiencing things in a visceral way. What's more, I knew that I could, when I wanted, check right in and live vicariously through him for a bit via a column on ESPN's Page 2 or in any of his other writing. His writing is still there, of course, but all of a sudden I'm not as comfortable. Maybe he could appreciate that.

My first Imix

On the last day I ever saw Jenn - she sat down here at this PC I'm at and made a mix to take on her trip out to Oklahoma. I'm not sure it was so much for her as it was for me and a select few others.

Now its for you too. Just go to iTunes and then iMix's and search on "Kitcher" and her tunes will come up.

The New York Times > Opinion > Op-Ed Columnist: No Mullah Left Behind

The New York Times > Opinion > Op-Ed Columnist: No Mullah Left Behind

When I read OP-ED pieces like this one from Tom Friedman, I get really fired up. Go read it. If not, here is the executive summary...By not supporting an energy independence initiative, improving energy conservation, taxing gasoline or demanding increased mileage from Detroit the Bush administration is financing both sides of the war on terror. As the price of oil goes up, the need for economic and governmental reform diminishes and the U.S. energy policy basically becomes "No Mullah Left Behind".

I absolutely advocate energy independence from the mid-east. Energy independence should be this generations moon race. Right after 9/11 Bush could have announced an initiative like what I'm talking about. Instead, we got told to shop. No surprise since Dubya is best friends with the Saudis.

I also agree with Friedman that our nation's campuses are curiously quiet in regards to this issue and, to my mind, the war as well. Where are the idealistic kids?

Despite the lack of support from the administration, some U.S. auto manufacturers have seen the writing on the wall as to the future of oil and are hedging their bets by developing hybrid gas/electric vehicles and hydrogen powered vehicles. Take GM's program for instance which is designed to possibly accelerate what my old friends at Texaco's Strategic Management Group called the Hydrogen future. Since the petroleum present seems to have only another twenty to fifty years left, we would do well as a nation to prepare now for that inevitable change and start building the infrastructure we'll need to support it. The whole world would benefit economically and environmentally.

You think its going to happen when the Bush line of kings is in Washington?

This here is "Faust", aka "Little Guy". He's a rather large kitty at 25lbs, but this bruiser is a lover not a fighter. Clarisa found him under her car tire when he was about 5 weeks old or so. She took him home, gave him a bath and a bottle and I was like, "Can we keep him?!" So we did and now he is so very much Clarisa's cat its sad. Plus he was raised by a Rottweiler so he pretty much thinks he's a dog.
Posted by Hello

Introducing Juilet the Cat, aka Jules Vern. She is a "next to" kitty. That is, she prefers sitting next to you or by you rather than on you. The crinkling of plastic bags frightens the hell out of her, so when its time to put away groceries, its time to traumatize a cat. We've had her since we live with my parents so she's at least 9 or so but she is stil pretty spry.
Posted by Hello

Truly Vanishing James

217.5 lbs 2/4/2005.
212.6 2/11/2005

I figure 10 more weeks to 180-185.

I'm not hungry. I'm eating a lot and I'm definitely getting stronger. Even better, I'm not jacking my cholesterol to the 340 mark it was back when I had been doing Atkins. The AbsDiet is not so much a diet as it is a lifestyle change, and even so, its a pretty easy one at that. If you've been struggling with your weight, yo-yo ing up and down -- check it out.

O ato do amor ajustou acidentalmente meu gato beloved no fogo.

AbsDiet story...

One of the recommended snacks on the absdiet is roasted almonds sprinkled with cayenne pepper and I have to say its become a fast favorite of mine. Last weekend I was snacking away all day on aforementioned tasty treat before we started going at it like crazed teenagers. Things were getting really hot and all of a sudden they really got hot. Clarisa recoiled away with an expression on her face that expressed both pain and puzzlement.

"The fucking cayenne pepper!" she said and high tailed it to the bathroom.

I'd never washed my hands...

Milk wound up places I never thought milk would wind up.

She could have been really pissed, but basically she just chalked this up to the fates evening out the scales of sexual justice for the "Pepsi Incident" that was perpetrated years ago.

Ponderings

Hello there Internet.

A while back I posted about my aborted attempt to go to the French Culinary Institute (FCI). I'll recap here for those of you who prefer the executive summary...I'd finally decided to become a chef, or at least try. The plan was to borrow the 20K for tuition and finish the part time evening program in 9 months. However, while driving to the FCI to finalize my paperwork I received an untimely call by my boss asking me to come back from wherever I was and fix a Westcon e-Commerce problem combined with a building panic attack on my part caused me to veer off of the FDR and onto the Triborough Bridge. A few hours later after criss-crossing NYC I returned home, much to Clarisa's surprise.

She really wanted me to get back in the car and get back down there and do it, but I wouldn't budge. She really wanted me to do it but the huge worry about the loan and the crappy starting salary and the odd hours all were screaming at me -- THIS WOULD BE A MISTAKE!! How awesome though, that I get that kind of support.

But now I'm thinking about it again. And I'm thinking about it again because I'm unhappy here at Healthology (did not take long at all!!) and when I'm unhappy, I start thinking about cooking school. From a self analytical point of view, a career change in that direction has become my elysian fields. Just do that, and happiness will ensue for the rest of my days. The objective part of me knows this my habit of loving the idea of something more than loving the thing itself. I do love to cook though. And I am good at it and it makes me happy to do it. Its funny how it just snowballs into a desire to turn my life upside down and don the whites and checks. All I need to do is get a pan in my hand and I'm like Sulu with a Rapier all of a sudden. It just changes me when I do it - - I get in a zone and get that same feeling of satisfaction you get from hitting a great golf shot. Maybe my head is making cloudy what my heart makes very clear...

The culinary world aside, the reality is the situation here is not fantastic and I'll need to make some changes soon. Its a workable problem, so I'm trying not to worry about it, and even if it wasn't workable, there is no reason to worry about something that you can do nothing about either, right?

Some possible low cost career transitions I'm thinking about -

Go back to Coldfusion programming and build some apps.
Start doing some creative writing and try to get published.
Going to School of the Visual Arts (SVA) or NYU and take some courses, maybe in film, maybe in advertising and try to move to a company oriented one of those ways and use my previous skillset to leverage my new one.

I know, I know... my main problem is a lack of focus. I am more scattered than the tribes of Israel when it comes to making a decision. Hell, one day I'll be sure I want to be a chef and the next day Madison Avenue might look good. Maybe even in the same HOUR, never mind the same day. Its infuriating to me. My friend, Dennis, of http://www.d2stuff.com/ fame and I joke about it a lot. We take turns making up whacked job listings like "Seeking Coldfusion programmer with liberal arts background, strong grounding in American Philosophy, aesthetics, botany. Must be experienced with Photoshop, Final Cut Pro. Ability to make a killer hollandaise nice to have."

This new job frustration change thing is kind of ironic. I've been reading Anne, Straight From the Hip for a while now and if you know her at all, she was struggling away for a long time with depression and a crappy job at a Barnes & Noble. Finally she got out of there and got a position working for HBO's "The Wire". No sooner was she there then she brought up how there were things that she did not really like it there, or did like it, but felt bad about a bunch of things... I went from a "Good for you! Way to kick ass!" attitude to thinking, admittedly, "No fucking way!! Unhappy already? You gotta be shitting me...suck it up! You were just at Barnes & Noble for chrissakes..."

Now here I am - two months into this gig and climbing the walls wanting a change. Now being that I've served time at soul sucking jobs like Enterprise Rent A Car and CVS/Pharmacies and moved on to better things -- I should be kissing the very ground I walk on in thanks. Everyday should be happiness and light compared to that. And in a way, it is - but as crazy as those jobs made me, not being challenged is also a big turnoff. It just goes to show everything is relative and that once you get something its never as satisfying as having wanted it. Maye Dostoevsky is right and that man loves to build roads and is constantly in a cycle of creation and destruction. I just happen to have a really rapid turnover!.

SpikeTV.com | The Ultimate Fighter

SpikeTV.com | The Ultimate Fighter

Mixed martial arts is going mainstream with this reality show. Its a long way from the first UFC in popularity and acceptance. Its cool to see that type of programming coming on. Anyhoo, I had heard of it but not watched it until last night when I accidentally stumbled upon it on Spike (even more coincidentally I got that comment on it in one of the preceding posts). I caught the end of some light heavyweight elimination fight wherein some bald guy got caught with a left right style combo that rang his bell and put him down. I think I saw a tooth fly out, but I'm not sure. It could have been anything. The program looks interesting and its on tonight so I just might catch it. Of course I'll be sizing up the guys and wondering where people in my school stack up against them. I think Renee could do really well in the middle weight, light middle weight category. The guy is really good. Totally mild mannered guy - but when he is on the mat he is something else. The funny thing about Renee, is when you roll against him sometimes -he actually starts to laugh the laugh of someone who is watching someone else realize the futility of their position.

Speaking of which, I plan on making my return to the BJJ academy this week and use the workouts there to compensate for one or two of the weight workouts specified in the ABSDiet. Of course I am a bit apprehensive about getting reinjured but you rolls your dice and takes your chances. At least with the running and workouts I have been doing for the past week I won't be sucking wind too soon into the class. Its funny how fast your body adapts - it can turn to shit and mush in a heartbeat and with just a little effort large improvements can be made. Of course, the beginning of anything is always that way. The challenges are, 1. Getting started 2. Keeping consistent 3. Busting through plateaus. The foot is feeling pretty good and I miss it so I am going back. Plus, I feel better working out knowing its for a purpose - like being able to triangle someone or kimura someone or mata leo someone or just hold my own against someone better / bigger than me. I'm not one to be a gym pretty boy. I am not John Baystow, fitness celebrity type. Speaking of which - I've found out that the cut builds and big muscles don't mean squat unless you know how to use them. I've taken on guys that you would say are in way better shape than me or stronger based on looks and held my own, beat them and yeah, sometimes got tapped out. But the point is that gym muscles are entirely different than BJJ ones. Like most things, if you can fuse it together you are really onto something. Martial arts fusion, fusion cuisine, cold fusion. Its all good.

So, I figure once this week and the next, and then back to a twice a week schedule.

The ABSDiet is going well. I'm kind of winging it now since I have not gone shopping yet - but I've adapted the principles of eating 6 meals a day and making sure that at each meal I eat one or two things that are in the ABSPOWERDIET group. And I am holding off the posting of the "fat James" picture for a bit. At the three week mark I will post it and another photo showing, hopefully, my progress. Then I'll post the 6 week photo. I'm just to self conscious at this point to post something like that without a counter balance. So for now, the Buddha belly stays tucked away.

Yahoo! Sports - NHL - A MINOR MIRACLE: Wings transplants elevate Mechanics, delight fans

Yahoo! Sports - NHL - A MINOR MIRACLE: Wings transplants elevate Mechanics, delight fans

Thanks to alert reader and friend, Sfumato, for sending me this link. Being a rabid Red Wings fan, its nice to see some of the boys getting some ice time in and giving the folks in Detroit a lift. Like Chelios says in the article - too bad if some minor league guy isn't getting some ice time. Its not like anyone lost their jobs over this -- they are evidently rotating the vets through the team and benching guys in turn. And if some guy is whining about losing his ice time, maybe he should shut the hell up and watch the 20+ year veteran Chelios school people half his age and learn something.

Of course I do feel a bit sorry for the poor SOB going into the corner after the puck and having Derian Hatcher there to pounce on you and give you the stinky glove facial and otherwise just make you pay for going into the corner after his puck. Again, though - I think you can learn something from that, like facing adversity or some shit, so its good for the minor league player in this case as well.

One other hockey comment in regards to this lockout business...about Donald Brashear of all people. I am not the guys biggest fan, but I can see his point when he bitches that the league did not do enough to protect him from young bucks trying to make a name for themselves by fighting him. Its like guys taking on Billy The Kid. You want to make a name for yourself, its just a very dangerous way to go about it. Same deal with Brashear. From what I hear, he was reluctant to drop the gloves, but basically had a bunch of guys lined up waiting to scrap with him every game. If he knocks the crap out of somebody - what the heck can you do. You (you being the Quebec semi=pro league he was playing in) basically took Brashear on as a major draw, let guys go after him and then turn around and suspend him for the season for engaging in the very activity you promoted. Now, I did not see the fight that triggered the suspension, so I'm not sure if Brashear pulled any cheap shit, if any. Even so, IMO, the league bears some responsibility.

Anyone out there have a video file of the fight? Bit Torrent maybe?

Realization

We have not seen one of the Best Film Academy Award nominees. Not one. Not for lack of trying, but my better half does not exactly dig, as she calles them, "Life Issues" movies. However, to her great credit, she always Netflix the movies I wanted to see in the theater but missed because they were in the preceding category. For example, we just got to see Garden State. It was a good movie. Mr. Branff did a bang up job. A special bonus was the discovery that I had previously listened to most of the music on the soundtrack way before the movie came out. It made me feel very hip. Oh yeah.

I want to see Million Dollar Baby. I don't know the ending, but I figure someone dies, its just that type of movie. I fear the longer Iwait to see it, the better the chances of someone spoiling it for me and thereby triggering all sorts of complex chemical reactions of frustration on my part. Ah the tension...

Back away from the Vienna Fingers...

During the Jets horrendous loss to the Steelers, my friend Joe, of the not so often posted to Sfumato blog, turned to me and said,

"Fat Riz is making a return."

To which I replied,

"That's ok, Fat Kitch is making a big comeback too."

I've packed on 12-13 lbs since I had to stop Brazilian Jiu Jitsu because of my foot injury. At 205 I'm not exactly svelte, but man o man its waaay better than the 217 the scale read on Tuesday night. The even weirder thing is I woke up Weds morning and weighed myself and I was 214. Where the hell did those three pounds go? I peed 3 lbs? Its a mystery.

That said, I've started going to Crunch Fitness on 38th street and I've started the AbsDiet and workout plan as laid out on the Men's Fitness Website. I even entered the AbsDiet contest and will be taking a picture of my fat ass for a "before" shot tomorrow and in 6 weeks will submit an after shot - the hope being that I will drop 10-20 lbs and maybe win a car. Actually I don't give a crap about the contest, its really more about giving myself some desperately needed structure. Hopefully, within that structure I will be able to drop some weight, lower my cholesterol and generally look and feel better. If I can transform my life somewhat - that's the biggest prize. Also, being able to replace the fat "before" photo thats about to go up with a better one -- that's pretty good motivation too.

So far, I've done two workouts at Crunch. The first day was dips, pullups and abwork and the second day was running with some abwork. I ran 4 miles and did some abwork and my legs are sore today and my arms are still sore from the workout on Weds. Man, you can really go to hell in one month if you let yourself. Tomorrow I start the AbDiets deal.

Six weeks, two photos and a goal of 192.6 to 197.6 lbs. Lets see what happens.

Burst Pipes - Aftermath

Well, the bedroom looks like we just moved in. We pulled everything that was in the path of the water and moved it into the bedroom. Shit is stacked everywhere. I can't imagine that all this stuff goes neatly away some where, but it does thanks to Clarisa's extraordinary ability to fold space and time in order to stow anything anywhere. Its a real honest to God talent. All the piles of stuff will be transported and disappear and in a short while this place will look like it always does. For now though, stuff is everywhere and its grating on Clarisa's innate sense of order. The Force must be balanced....

...Moving along...

Of course, its ass cold and the pipe that burst last night is already frozen again. In a questionable attempt to dry the place out, we pulled back the carpet in the bedroom where it got soaked to expose the padding underneath. An electric heater is blowing on the floor right near said pipe. Now, the Murphy's law part of me is saying - "Now we are going to be flooded and electrocuted on top of it."

I'm tired of having to spend close to $500/MO bucks to heat this joint in the winter and still freeze my a$$ off. You would think that would be money spent to make it warm but no way.

Burst Pipes - a kind of screenplay.

The Scene - a man riding home on Metro North Railroad. He is reading "The Discoverers" by Daniel Boorstin. He is wearing a yellow Burton boarding jacket, jeans and a pair of Columbia boots.

[Sidebar - Evidently in 1421 or so, a Chinese eunuch named Cheng Ho took about 30,000 of his closest friends on an adventure all over the Indian Ocean on ships that were just amazing to look at. Huge things. Pretty things. And they sailed not to conquer or enslave, but to spread the word of just how kick ass they were and show that, in fact, they did not need a damn thing from anyone. Oh, and if you brought them a Giraffe, the beers were definitely on the house, so to speak.]

[annoying cell phone ring - sounds like a slot machine]

- Man pulls out cell phone from jeans pocket and answers it.

Man: "Hello"?

- Its his wife and she is freaking out a bit and in a stressed but her voice is still kind of eerily calm.

Woman: "James! Oh what we've worried about has happened! One of the pipes burst and there's water everywhere. I just called the fire department. I need to go. You need to take a cab home. Bye!"

- The man has the next 25 minutes between the train and the cab ride home to wonder just what the hell is going on there and how bad its going to be. He hopes, wrongly, that its an outside pipe and the water is not spilling into every crevice of his house. He thinks about his wife crying and all of their stuff being destroyed. He thinks that he should still be thankful, because even with however bad this is, there are still people out there a LOT worse off than they are. Surprisingly, he manages to remain calm and just see what there is to see when he gets home.

- Water water everywhere. Not as little as he'd like, not as bad as he'd hoped. He pays $300 to the emergency plumber team and keeps helping his wife clean up the water that has run from the back of the house, underneath the kitchen tile and out into the dining area. They order a pizza and think hard about moving south or west.

Subway Music

NYC has a way of adding a twist to the routine. Just when you think it’s going to be the same old same old you come upon something different. It might be a building, an event, or maybe a person that grabs your attention and for a moment or two takes you out of where you are at and serendipitously places you, however fleetingly, in that realm of shared experience. And, if for some reason nothing like that happens the distinct turning of the seasons is sure to give you something different. You just need to be a bit aware. Yesterday, I got one of those twists.

Since it’s been a little cold in these parts lately and I've been running a little late as well, I've taken to riding the subway. The route is simple and fast -- Times Square shuttle to, well, Times Square and the Q/R/W to Herald Square. Yesterday I hopped on the Times Square shuttle, grabbed a handrail and waited for the inevitable lurch forward. Then, my morning routine was interrupted. A smooth voice wished "New York" a good morning and announced that the performers to my right and across the car from me were Miss Jubilee and Chocolate Thai. I looked over and saw a late twentyish man with a big kind smile, dreads, a goatee and some sort of pointy Asian looking hat. Behind him was a pixy of a woman with short hair, a faux rabbit fur vest and cuffed furry boots over her jeans and she held a large well-played dreadnaught guitar. She started to play and they both started to sing as the shuttle headed out.

This was different. I've seen lots of subway performers over the years, but never actually anyone perform ON the subway. What's more, they were pretty good. Good voices - nice melody and harmony over simple folk guitar rhythms with a distinct island feel to the sound and the lyrics. I sat there thinking that they were good and then I thought about how much work it was just to get to where they were - to have original songs, to have made a demo CD, to have the guts to ride the shuttle train with commuters, to play their stuff and to ask for donations and to sell their CD...well I just thought I had to commend that so I bought their CD as I got off.

They were on the subway again this morning and I made sure I told them I liked the CD and they seemed pleased.

So thank you to Miss Jubilee and Chocolate Thai and good luck. Check 'em out at Barnard College Radio (http://www.wbar.org/index.php), 87.9 on your radio dial.

ESPN.com - NFL - NFL - Recap >> Jets F*&%K it up 2X

ESPN.com - NFL - NFL - Recap > Same Old Jets

Un Fahkking Bee Leev A Bull that they lost that game. If Doug Brien was a Brazilian soccer player he would be fearing for his life right now.

So far, when Sfumato comes over here to watch Jets playoff football, they have lost 100% of the time. Also, each time he has come over for Jet playoff football he has brought a very tasty homemade guacomole and in that guac is inscribed the word JETS. Each and everytime he has come over. Tasty guac, salty chips...bitter defeat.

A Happy Day, A Conflicted Day...

Today, my birthday, marks three months since Jenn died (October 13th, 2004). So, I've been a bit apprehensive about really celebrating it and feeling good about it and all of that. Of course, everyone else says, and rightly so, that thats kind of silly and self destructive thinking and hey man, its your birthday. Go have fun.

So, to celebrate my parents came over this past weekend to celebrate. We didn't do anything too fancy. Just got some appetizers and some good beer for my Dad to try instead of his usual stuff. Of course the conversation turned toward Jenn and my mom brought out the actual medical examiners report and let me read it.

Its kind of surreal, reading something like that about someone you know and love. Its medical and objective and sterile -- but informative. I learned some things that make this somewhat easier to deal with that I might post here but I'd like to get a feel for what my parents think first.

As for today it was a quiet evening at home. We got some takeout, watched Anchorman and pretty much thought it sucked. And we were really trying to not let it suck for us. But it did. :-(. And I got a call from an Aunt and I got a call from my Mom. It turns out she got roses today for no reason from a neighbor. The significant thing about that was that she has been praying for a sign that Jenn is ok. She prayed for a rose this morning. The roses showed up this afternoon.

How bout that.

Hi I'm James and I work for...

iVillage! Yes, that's right. A month and change after joining Healthology, I now work for iVillage. The executive team at work announced iVillage acquisition of Healthology on Monday morning this week after aborting the same announcement Friday evening (hence making everyone sweat it out as to what it was all about). I'd like to say I'm super rich and that my stock options will enable me to retire but that is not the case. I'm DEFINITELY working for the foreseeable future. Oh well. Thus far its a positive move - as they seem to need QA people, and they have more resources.

Notice - slight technical tangent approaching. Grab a double esspresso if you are not a web standards geek or just skip it.

They are also into CSS driven layouts. Check out their launch of their entertainment site and view the source, Luke. Its All CSS and it validates as XHTML 1.0 Transitional. The inner geek in me is soooo happy about that. It means I might have a chance to ply my web standard knowledge on a larger scale. Very cool. I've been away from that stuff for a while, but I find it interesting, compelling and even fun, so its worth it to get back into it if there is an actual reason to. I say that because I spent an awful lot of time learning Coldfusion only to find it hard to find somebody that would let me use it / wanted to pay extra $ for the hosting or because they thought it was a "beginner" language. Ok - so why is the .NET plat form basically CFML then. Oy. I hate that "if its easy it must suck" mentality in tech. Anyhoo, the point is if you learn something, you want to use it, it in this case is web standards.

Happy Birthday To Me...

[old codger voiceover]

Hot Damn. I'm 36 Goddamn Yeers old. How 'bout that. Ain't that some shit. I'll tell you what. It sure is. Some shit. I tells ya. Yep.

A little catchup...

The holidays, thankfully, are over and with them a bit of my depression. For whatever reason, in about the past 15 minutes I started to feel pretty good about things. I just feel "better" all of a sudden. Lets see if it holds. Someone also suggested I keep a time record of how I'm doing - so why not start here and now...

1/6/2005 4:50 PM - Feeling good. Not great...Good...From a relative perspective that is... I've been better. Of course I had a nice fudge brownie about 15 min ago. Lets see how much better "better" is when I recover from the insulin shock.

Lets rewind a bit to New Years Eve and New Years Day. Our New Years Eve Plans fell through suddenly on the 31st, just hours before we were supposed to head out to see some friends in Hyde Park. The reason being that their house was a wreck and they were particularly stressed out. Why you ask? Well, the deal is that they had bought a 9 month old golden retriever as a Christmas gift for their 4 year old, Zack. In theory, its a great idea. A boy. His dog. Bonding. Face licking. The fetching of slippers. Squeals of delight. Lots of Kodak moments. You get it. However, and you knew there was a however coming, right? Otherwise what's the point of all of this? Well, the however is that this dog turns out to be 12 Monkeys kind of crazy. It bites the kid, it shits and it pisses everywhere at any moment. They take it for a hour walk and it pees and poops. The moment they get back inside, Star ("the dog" up to this point) taps into a reserve bladder and whizzes all over the living room. Star is supposed to be crate trained, but star is is whizzing and pooping all over his cage and all over himself. While not whizzing, shitting or biting people, Star is chewing everything. The Couch. The Carpet. The Kitchen. Yeah - the dog tried to eat the kitchen. The family - not so pleased.

So here we have a terrified 4 year old that wants Santa to take the dog back but is also afraid that Santa will be upset with him. Angry even. So the dog winds up in the kitchen, the kid is hiding in his room and the parents are like -- we need to find pooch a new home ASAP. Naturally the breeder will not take it back. Eventually they get a single woman with the patience of Job that must own lots of brushed steel furnishings to buy the dog. Zack is ecstatic that the dog got taken away, but still worried that Santa has some sort of retribution in store for ungrateful children. However -- I have the feeling that Santa just might write Zack a letter telling him its ok. Nice one, right?

And that, dear Internet, is the story of how New Years Eve was almost lost. Almost I say, because our friends Dave & Jacquie either had nothing better to do or took pity on us and came over to hang out with us. It was a fairly uneventful evening, with the ladies watching some movies and Dave and me putzing around in the office with my computer. I showed him the graphical sweetness of Half Life 2 and the awesome fury of Counsterstrike Source and demo'd my GuitarPort software by Line 6. The GuitarPort is a nice little device that allows you to get just about any guitar sound you want with a mouse click and also provides a wealth of lessons, licks, full tracks and sheet music. Its really helpful. If you are starting to play or have been playing for a while but are not rigged up completely, this is a great investment for a hobbyist or mature player. Of course, Line 6 sells all sorts of other goodies as well. If you play, check em out if you haven't. Anyhoo, Dave got so excited by it that he came over on Tuesday night and we played around a bit. He is a lot more skilled than I am, so he kindly assumed the role of instructor and showed me some stuff. As a direct result of his visit I'm working on 10 Years Gone by Led Zeppelin. Sounds good, not boring to learn and challenging but not impossible for my skill level. Back to the roots of things man, back with Led Zeppelin. Tell you what, its a lot different now than 20 yrs ago or so when I first attempted to play guitar and I tried to play Heartbreaker for my friend Tom. I remember laying down the main lick or so for him and he asked me what it was. "'Heartbreaker'", I said.

"No its not." Tom said.

Lol, I was heartbroken. Of course what I was hearing in my mind vs what was coming out of the amp were two completely different things. I'm not great now, I know that, but I know I am getting better and better and what's more I am enjoying it. Plus I have a few folks around now patient enough to help me learn and cool enough to jam.

Ok getting back from the tangent there... So New Years was saved by Dave and Jacquie and Clarisa and I woke up on New Years Day after having slept in a bit. I surfed the net, blogged a while and just felt generally morose and quiet. It was going to be a cave day. But - we got a call from Christine and Barry asking us to come up. I was like, Ok, but not super excited. I was feeling pretty crappy that day. Just read the last post and you will get the gist of my mood. Still, mainly because I felt that way I thought it important to get out of the house and actually do something. I asked Clarisa to ask them if it would be cool if I brought my guitar. I knew Barry played, but we had never done anything like that together. It turns out it was a great idea. We played most of the evening and had a big sing along, with Clarisa and Christine even butchering an acoustic version of "Times Like These". We had a blast playing and singing. But the highlight of the evening came a bit later on when we went to check out the new stuff in Zack's bedroom. Under a plush toy or two I saw a table hockey game. A brand new Stiga NHL table top game. I immediately waxed nostalgic and I had to play. I grabbed the game up and called to Barry. "We HAVE to play" this. Immediately it became obvious we were both big fans of the game and "understood it." The old moves from hours (well, days really) of playing in my youth came back pretty fast. We were both a little rusty though and could not pull off some of the trickery we once knew - like bank shots and deflections and such. Despite our rustiness, our enthusiasm more than made up for it. We had a blast and eventually had to be dragged away because it was getting too late. I was like there is more hockey to play and more music to talk about and more hockey to talk about...but the night was over. I actually didn't want it to end. It was the most fun I had in a long time. Between the hockey, the guitar and playing around with Zack, I was really happy. It was nice man, I'll tell you.

The crazy thing is that Christine and Clarisa have known each other for close to ten years and Barry and I just bonded a week ago. Go figure. Everything in its time I guess. Next weekend we are supposed to be heading up again. Clarisa is jokingly calling it a "play date". Great...

BTW its 11:31AM on Jan 7th and I am still feeling "better". No sugar rush. Just some caffeine from a coffee this morning and a diet coke right now. Looking forward to getting home and a weekend with my guitar. My foots still to banged up to do much else. Soon though - or else I am going to need to switch to the "fat" jeans again.


And - before closing this long winding post, I'd just like to say thanks to the folks who took the time to email me about my depression. I really love you for it. Thanks

Rising to the New Year

I thought I might try to write something about the new year. I wanted to write something that said that the past is always with us despite the start of a new year, that we are not in fact starting anew. I wanted to write about hope and pain and our collective struggle to be better. I was thinking about it when I came across this article in the New York Times:

The New York Times > Opinion > Editorial: Rising to the New Year

To quote (well, paraphrase really) James Carville from his cameo in Old School, "That's perfect." Its a great piece of writing. Go read it. Now.

As for me, I definitely do not feel as if I am starting anew today. I still feel the weight of 2004 squarely upon me, squashing me, especially that last quarter from October till now. I know I am still depressed. I know I suffer from a low level depression a better part of the time and I know that its gotten worse since Jenn died. At times, doing the simplest things seems so hard and fruitless. Then, even if I want to do something, I have a hard time sticking with it and easily lose my concentration. My brain says -- "Not interested anymore. Move along or I will fall asleep..."

Its time to talk to my GP and see if there isn't anything that he can do. I remember feeling better and want to be like that if I can again and if that means trying Zoloft or Paxil or some other anti-depressant, I'm willing to do it. Toughing it out and talking it out have not done the job by themselves.

So here we are, Internet. Happy New Year. Or, in the spirit of George Carlin - "Have a moderately pain free year."

Just In Time For Christmas...

Jenn's toxicology report from the medical examiner's office in Oklahoma finally came in last week.

Rather than give answers, it really just poses more questions ; questions that have no answers.

So I'm not sure what to make of it. I just know I'm sad and I think about her. I think about her a lot and wonder if I shouldn't be doing something more meaningful or fulfilling with my life. Death has a way of doing that.

Right Now

I sit here in my mini cube for the very small with my tylenol sinus medication barely stemming the tide of snot out of my left nostril and the tears out of my left eye. I sit and test videos and microsites and media players and all is good. I drink tons of water. I wail in dismay at the crappy CSS the CMS here puts out and then I wipe my nose and my eye and get some water and start again.

It Christmas time. That means I must be sick as hell. Three years running now. WTF?!

"Yaaaay" [Monty Python's Holy Grail Minstrel's apathetic celebratory voice]

Ow My Foot Redux

I'm home in bed right now with my left foot up on two pillows and an ice pack sitting on my foot and hydrocodone coursing through my veins.

The reason? Well, last night during BJJ I was doing some stand up work with our instructor, Marcio Santos and attempted to throw him. He countered, like I knew he would, and I tried to counter the counter, but in doing so he came down with his leg onto my foot in such a way as to cause my toes to touch my heel.

Same foot. Toes. Heel. Touch.

I screamed like a little bitch. Haaaaaaarrgh Haarrrrrgh! Harrrrghhhhh! Ahhhhhh!

The folks at the school were great about it. They got my foot up, iced it and generally tried to take care of me. One of the guys at the school that night is an orthopedic surgeon and he checked me out and gave an unofficial diagnosis of no break. And, the official call from the x-rays is no break, just one hell of a sprain. Amazing. I cannot believe I didn't break anything. I caught a ride from Marcio to Grand Central and Terry (a friend of mine from the school) was nice enough to walk me to the train.

Clarisa could not pick me up from the train. She got hit by a drunk driver last night. Thank God there was no real damage to her or to the car -- it could have been so much worse - like he could have not tapped her but made it down the road a bit and wiped out a family or something.

So - once again I am forced to take a hiatus from BJJ, but when I come back Marcio said he would help me get caught up and offer me private lessons. I thought that was a nice gesture on his part. That's one of the reasons I love this school - the guys doing the training from Marcio and Marcos down to Andres and Rene are all great people with a strong sense of compassion and decency.

All right then, the hydrocodone is really kicking in now and I need to stop and lie down. Oy...

The New Commute

Hey there Internet, I just finished up my first week at my new job at Healthology in NYC. The commute's been pretty good, what with a 35 min train ride and a 15 min walk. Of course, it does not compare to the 5 minute drive I used to have to Westcon. That, my friends, was cherry. But, in the eternal quest to possibly put money in the bank - I took the job in NYC and the commute with it.

So far so good. Of course I am the new guy and going through the normal new guy process of getting to know everyone and how the place works and what my job really entails day to day but soon enough I'll fit right in. Overall I am pleased - the people seem as nice as they did during the interview and I seem to have the autonomy I want.

On Tuesday and Thursday I went to Jiu Jitsu. Marcos is in Brazil for the holidays, so his brother Marcio is teaching in his absence. Marcio tends to kill you during the "warm up" which is really a workout in itself before we do any techniques, but that's a good thing. Tuesday is a gi day and Thursday is no gi, so on Thursday we did some more stand up techniques and worked on take downs most of the class and then rolled for a bit. My legs are not used to the stand up work (lots of lunging a la a fencer) so they are still thrashed two days later. Argh. Can you say "Your ass is getting old?" I knew that you could. Anyhow, both days I got crushed on the mat and tapped out a LOT more than usual against guys I usually do reasonably well against. Just not myself for whatever reason, but its all good because you tend to learn a lot when you lose.

On Friday we had a real piece of work on the train. Some Ratty Guy was passed out on the aisle seat of a triple seat and the train was filling up and people were trying to wake him up to get by him. Its bad enough when the guy is passed out, but this guy was passed out and wearing Bose noice reducing headphones. Its like being in a cone of silence with those things on. Needless to say, no one could wake his ass, but one intrepid commuter decided to just go right over the guy. Hell, if he doesn't wake up for the big shove on the shoulder he got, scooching by should be no problem. So our intrepid commuter gets in there and takes the window seat to distance himself a whole foot and a half away from our Ratty Guy. That might be comfortable distance if the person in the next seat over was a normal commuter...

Ratty Guy proceeds to snore. Not just a little snore. We are on a train here, remember, not a Japanese bullet train of speed and silence, but an MTA train of noise and the noise coming out of ratty guy sounds like a piece of the train is loose and about to come off. It was a snore of puissance and no amount of shoving the guy would stop it. That's right, the fellow commuters were shoving this guy around to get his head repositioned to stop the feral snore.

So that was bad enough, but then the guy starts to cough and each time he coughs a wad of phlegm came flying out and hit the back of the seat in front of him and lord knows where else. He has the PLAGUE I thought. And everyone on the train at that point around the ratty guy tried to shrink away as best they could and get out of the three foot range of his nasty exhalations. Argh.

Ratty guy with his unshaven face and unkempt hair and hideous skin and grimy track suit finally woke up and went and puked between the cars. We know this because he told us so. And then, at our stop the guy gets off and while we are all in our pre get off the train formation, he starts to chat up a lithsome lawyer in front of him. She was soooo polite as he kinda hit on her and chatted about his daddy. Yes ratty guy seemed to have a wealthy daddy that kept him in his Bose headsets. Needless to say, I hope he is not a regular on that train.

Ok Internet - I am off to see the parentals and visit with Jenn for a bit. Peace.

Looking downtown from outside my office. That's Herald Square and Macy's right ahead.
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Ahh, pretty leaves. This is my Sunday Morning with Charles Kuralt picture. Imagine the leaves gently blowing...imagine the crisp fall air...imagine the SOB that almost ran me over in our complex as I tried to take this shot. WTF is with people? They race through here like its LeMans. Ok - so anyway, back to the photo....ahhh leaves. Breathe in and out. There ya go...
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Marie with her 20+ lb turkey. It was an excellent, tasty bird with just the right amount of tryptophan to knock us all out until the Seinfeld special came on.
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Mugging it up outside of Eileen & Tommy's place in Hensonville on Black Friday. Screw going to the mall at 5:30AM. What's wrong with us that we do that!? Not ones to give in to ramant consumerism we slept until 11 and Eileen made breakfast for everyone. Of course their ain't crap around there for shopping, but that's beside the point.
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Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

We are about to head out the door and make the trek upstate to my aunt Marie's place for a bit of the ol' face stuffing. Marie is hosting this year because my parents flew out earlier this week to pick up Jenn's car in Oklahoma City and drive it back. Not being road warriors anymore, the trek is going to take a few days. Last I heard from them they were in Louisville, Kentucky and going to head to Churchill Downs the next day. I hope the weather held up for them. So, its a change of venue and no parents and no Jenn for Thanksgiving. When I think of that I can't help but be sad.

However, at the same time I'm sad, I am so very grateful to be alive relatively problem free. Sure I battle with depression and mood swings and have endured crappy jobs, but never to the extent that she had to deal with. Sure a lot of it she brought on herself, but a hell of a lot just happened. Its amazing - there is bad luck and then there was Jenn luck. She went through a lot and I often wondered what type of future lay in store for her, given her back condition. Would she have to be in a wheel chair at 32? I wonder if she thought that too. We never brought it up when we talked.

Anyhoo - I guess I am going to be writing about Jenn here for a while, but life does go on and I will try to write about other things, perhaps more satirical things as has been suggested. So with that in mind here is a quick update on things...

I got a new job! My last day at Westcon was yesterday and I start on 11/29/2004 as Healthology's new QA Analyst. Basically, I am going to be responsible for testing all of their products and making sure they are up to spec. It's in NYC on 36th and Broadway and just a block away from my Jiu Jitsu school. It pays gobs more money and is well worth the commute. I'm excited but have a little nervousness going on too. Its normal I guess. Overall though, I am just very proud and excited to have a new opportunity and look forward to the time where my bank account is INCREASING. Like HOLY SHIT - THERE IS MONEY IN THERE! Heh.

Talk about perspective...

My sister, Jenn, is dead. I still can't get my head around it.

I'm eight years older than Jenn, so growing up it seemed like I was always in one phase of life and she was in another. We were separated by age, but always really close. Whenever we did get together we always picked right up where we left off. We were comfortable together. She was funny, pretty and like I wrote, has a sense of compassion beyond her years. There were lots of times she gave her big brother a shoulder to lean on, and I hope I gave as good as I got from her. Sometimes I wonder.

I always thought that we would have time together later on, that the age difference would close and we would find each other, finally together fighting the good fight as adults trying to make it in the world. Hell -- even my aborted foray into the culinary world was partly based on her influence. She just loved cooking so much that she got me interested in it. I wanted to see what the buzz was about so to speak and once I got into it, I found that we really shared the same passion. A part of me even envied her opportunity to do what she loved and get paid for it. How rare is that.

It was great to have her stay with us when she was doing her externally with the CIA. While she was really busy, we still got to hang out a lot together and just BS and chat. She was at the Westchester Country Club doing baking and pastry work and some line cooking and really moving and grooving. When she was around, she was always cooking and the place always smelled delicious. I have a letter from the owner of the Westchester Country Club commending her and the rest of the team for turning out and serving great food during a blackout. That's the culinary world for you. You get it done. You kick ass. And Jenn did. However -- things turned bad when her back condition just got worse and worse under the stress of the work. One day she fell (sometimes she could not feel her left leg) and they told her not to come back until she was well.

She opted for surgery, which seemed to help when she recovered, but not much. She also got an epidural after that which did not help at all.

The thing is with the CIA externships -- you need to complete 18 continuous weeks. You do 17 and 6 days and you stop for some reason? Do it all over again. So Jenn went to to it all over again but this time at the Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz. Again, she was moving and grooving but she hurt her back again and decided that she just could not go through this again and that despite it being her dream, she had to try and do something else. At the time I agreed with her and advocated it. Why prolong the agony? Cut your losses and move on. We all thought that was the best route. In retrospect, I made it too practical. While the advice was, maybe on the surface, sound, I don't think any of us did enough to talk to her about how bad it made her feel. I mean we knew how bad it made her feel, so why bring it up and make it worse?

After the CIA she took on too much. Classes during the day, working at IBM in a clean room all night and hardly getting any sleep. And she moved out and got an apartment because she felt weird about living at home. She seemed to think that there was a stigma attached to it. These days there isn't really -- but if you feel a certain way about things, that's the way you feel and its hard to change that.

As for how she died.... we are not sure yet. The short of it is that its medication related - possibly an adverse interaction, but that's just speculation at this point till we get the toxicology report. Till then we wait.

For Jenn

I never thought I would write this for you.

I love you and am eternally grateful for every second that we had together. God Bless You.

Jennifer Marie Kitcher OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLA. - Jennifer Marie Kitcher, 27, beloved daughter, sister and niece, died in her sleep on Wednesday, Oct. 13, 2004 at her home in Oklahoma City. She was born at Vassar Brothers Hospital in Poughkeepsie on June 29, 1977, the second child of James and Sylvia Kitcher.

A gregarious, loving, free spirited person with a sense of compassion beyond her years, Jennifer brought joy to the lives she touched. She lived, loved and felt intensely and was at her best when she could help someone.

She grew up in Poughkeepsie, surrounded by friends and family that loved her. She attended Spackenkill schools. An active youth and sports fan, she enjoyed watching football and basketball and played tennis for Spackenkill High School. From 1997 through part of 2000, Jenn lived in the Nashville area of Tennessee. Within those three years, she discovered her talent and passion for baking. The culinary arts challenged her and offered a perfect way for her to express her creativity.

In mid-2000, Jenn returned to Poughkeepsie for better work and to apply to the Culinary Institute of America. When she returned to Poughkeepsie, Jenn threw herself into her work at the Pastry Garden and at the Sugar and Spice Bakery/Cafe. In 2002, she was accepted to the Culinary Institute of America's baking and pastry program, where she excelled. Her studies at the CIA were interrupted by the onset of an intolerable degenerative back condition.

Undeterred, she sought a fresh start in Oklahoma to work as an assistant pastry instructor at Platt Community College in Oklahoma City.

Her friends and family will lovingly miss her. She is survived by her parents, Jim and Sylvia; her brother, James and his wife, Clarisa; her niece, Mary; and her half-sister, Mary Alice and her husband, Michael. Also mourning her loss are her aunts and uncles and their families: Marie Mitchell, George and Barbara Kitcher, Eileen and Tommy Carberry, Joan and John White, Ann and Jim Killian, Maureen McGurl and Mark Willensky. She will also be dearly missed by her close friends, Michelle, Christy and Mark.

Oh my God, Jenn, I miss you. I love you and I miss you so much. How did it ever come to this...

No hurricanes this vacation, thanks

Back on September 13th, Clarisa and I were supposed to be catching a plane to FL and starting our Universal Studios / Islands of Adventure vacation. That was about the same time Charley was engulfing Florida. As early as Thursday night our flight was canceled and we called Priceline asking for some help canceling our trip. Maybe their help desk is in India or something, because they sure did not seem to hurricane aware. To make a short story shorter - they refunded our money but we were out a trip.

Not wanting to stay home we looked at each other and said -- what the hell lets go to CA and see your relatives. So we did just that and about 10 minutes after having no vacation trip we were booked to fly out to Sacramento where we would get our rental car and drive the 150 + miles to Redding, CA where we would be staying and seeing her relatives.

Overall the trip was great. I got to ride a quad up near Mt. Lassen, raced some crazy remote controled all terrain buggies and trucks and got to know my relatives a bit better.

Hey A New Post

Its been too long between posts. Blah Blah etc etc. Yeah Yeah.

On the mat:

• Hey now! I busted my cherry and got my first tap out. Yeah, the guy was a little newer than me, and yeah, the guy was a little smaller -- but hell, after getting my @$$ kicked all the time I will take it. It was a nice north south choke. In another match I had a great double leg takedown on a blue belt but left my head exposed on the landing and wound up getting cranked and tapped out right when I was thinking "Things are going really well here..." LOL. Experience tends to win and I am still waaaay short on that.
• My buddy Dennis was brave enough to roll with me in his backyard last weekend. If I can bait him with cool rashguards to wear, I might get him to train regularly. Actually, he could not be baited, but he does have a weakness for rashguards. Hey if nothing else, he could wear one clubbing maybe. BrazilianFightWear.com if you're interested, Den.
• My biceps are still killing me. Not just my right arm now, though that one is worse, but both arms. They start to ache during training and it gets really bad right after and then dissipates in about 3 hours. The doctor wants to perform surgery and reattach my biceps tendon to my right shoulder. The thing is, the injury he saw on the MRI is ancient and I went through basic training with that, mountain biked with it, lifted with it, did Aikido with it. You get the idea, it did not bother me at all. Maybe all of a sudden it does? But both arms? Second opinion time. No slicey slicey for me. Time for WebMD and maybe a visit to an Acupuncturist.

On the homefront:

• My sister is struggling. Financially, mentally and physically. Here's to her deciding to help herself. And - here's to my parents getting some peace of mind finally when she does.
• Had a great dinner with my Uncle Mark last night. It was nice talking to him one on one and just getting to know him a little better. Granted, I've known the guy for many years but we've always met at family holiday things and there's always distractions. This was different because we talked. It wasn't just bitching about something, or the weather or me rambling about video games or something else that only I find interesting. We covered family, politics, jobs and hopes and dreams. And while I thought the world of him before, I love thy guy even more now. All because I made a little effort and picked up the phone. Its amazing how easy it is to NOT do that. Relationships die that way. Like cars, they need maintenance.
• BTW The restaurant was a nice little Italian place on 34th St. between Park and Lex called Villa Bruella. Try it.

Lies and Comets

A while back, I actually applied for culinary school. A fit of frustration and depression drove me to finally complete the application to the French Culinary Institute. I'd been thinking about doing something like that since before I left Enterprise. I'd dismissed it though - crappy hours, big pay cut, etc etc. There were always enough excuses not to do it. One day in late April or early May - they did not seem so big. What was 28K for tuition? Peanuts! What was trying to finagle out of work early a few days a week in order to go to class -- no big deal!! It could be done.

So I apply online, send in my application and a non-refundable deposite of $500 because I am serious dammit. I start talking to people at the schook, getting uniforms, a start date, got to get my financial aid stuff going. So, to take care of the paper work part of things I need to drive down into the city. I bail out of work at 4pm and 20 minuntes later I am at the Triborough bridge in a full panic saying to myself what the hell am I doing what am I doing -- I can't do this!! This is nuts! You get the idea. Of course, our ecommerce systems at work shitting the bed, and my boss calling me telling me I need to get back did not help matters. So I wind up turning around, my tail between my legs and a career change aborted.

At least my therapist seems to think I made the right decision.

So here's the lie part - I tell my friend Dennis that I had to come back to work and that my boss had called me and screamed at me and that I just had to go back to work and that I did not see how I could go through with this and still work. That part was true, but I hid the panic attack from him - and a few other people. So, this weekend we got together and were having some nosh at Perkins, dining on some killer pancakes and ruminating on our lives. I'm not sure how we got around to it, but I brought up the fact that I had freaked out and turned around -- totally having forgotten my lie. Den, having a memory of an elephant, remembered and said, "I thought your boss called and you had to go back."

For a second I was flying toward my mental closet where my tap shoes are and thought better of it. "Well yeah. He did call. But I didn't have to go back. I freaked out."

Den's single response about it was, "Ah, so you've been trying to play the tough guy." and that was it. Its good to have friends that understand you, even when you don't understand yourself.

But lies -- they come back like comets man. You forget about 'em and they come back. When you are honest, you never have to remember anything and you never lose credibility. Some people I know haven't caught onto that yet, and if they told me the sky was blue I would have to look outside to check. And I hope they get the help they need, but they have to want it.

Ow My Foot. Ow My Shoulder.

Went to a BJJ seminar at the NYC Machado Dojo this past Saturday. The special guest instructor was Helio Soneca from the Gracie Barra in TN. What a powerhouse guy. Small, but waaay slippery, way strong and extremely talented. More than all that though, a great personality and enthusiasm for what he does shone through. Its contagious.

On the one day that I went, we trained without a gi and divided our time between muay thai kickboxing at first and then ground techniques. We rolled for two hours straight.

Unfortunately, I hurt my arm / shoulder from the repetition of one move where I got rolled again and again on my right shoulder. By the end of class my arm was aching from the top of my shoulder to my hand.

In a freak accident on Monday, I reaggravated it. But again, with ice and elevation the pain went away and I went to class on Tuesday. That was a mistake. Again by the end of class my arm was killing me worse than it did on Saturday. Throw in some numbness in my hands and there you have it. Owee.

So I get on the train. Its packed so I have to stand and I about pass out from the pain and or the naproxen I took right after class. Everything was going on me and I just sat down and I got my vision and hearing back. Of course I had had to throw a guys bag in his lap to get the seat -- SOB would not let me sit down. I was said "Move your fucking bag or I am going to pass out right on you." He must have thought I was crazy because he looked at me and looked away. That's when I tossed his bag. Screw him.

So Weds I go to the doctors, and of course there is no pain, again, and all of his moving me around produces no pain. I told him, it only hurts when it hurts, and even then, it does not hurt to touch my arm or shoulder. Pain just radiates down my arm and its weak.

Its really weird.

Suffice it to say no BJJ class for me today. Decided that discretion is definitely the better part of valor. Going tonight would have just meant another visit to the pain factory and I've been on that tour twice this week. That's enough for me. Hopefully the doc gets back to me soon with an OK for an MRI or some sort of diagnosis so I know how to treat this. Here's to it just going away and me being in class again on Tuesday.

Action Pack for FrontPage Available at Amazon.

My good friend, Dennis Derobertis, the owner and creator of Office Power and D2Stuff, got a small measure of satisfaction the other day when his cousin called him and told him his Action Pack for FrontPage software was actually in stock at Amazon.

He's developed the software, designed the packaging, got the CD's pressed and packaged and got a distributor. He got his product listed on Amazon, but with a label of "out of stock or discontinued on it." All he needed was someone to make some phone calls and get a case sent to Ingram or some numbers entered in some inventory DB for the product to be listed as something people thought they could actually buy.

Whatever it was my buddy agonized for 1.5 yrs waiting for that final step to happen. I hope its not too late and that maybe some sort of relationship can be created between FrontPage and his product - one of those "in addition to" recommendations on Amazon might do a lot to drive business.

Anyhow, I am happy for him and sad because the cavalry is arriving a little late. :-(

If you use FrontPage to any sort of web work at all, check out his products at D2Stuff.com. They are big time savers and well worth the cost. And of course, check out the ActionPack.

Rolling baby yeah.

Yesterday, I got to "roll" (lingo for sparring / freestyle) for the first time. Of course, I didn't do very well at all. Oh, sure there was a glimmer of hope here and there where I got a dominant position or had a good choke or arm lock for a little bit, but my more experienced partner got out of each of them and submitted me a bunch of times - mostly with arm bars. Its to be expected and I don't feel bad about it one bit. Like golf, those few techniques that I managed to pull off are enough to jazz me up and encourage me to come back and try again. What was really cool in a way is that I pushed myself harder than I have pushed myself since I left the Army way back in the day -- to the point where my whole body just kind of gave out. I'd forgotten how fast you can run out of gas, juice, energy or whatever you want to call it, but when it happens its like someone pulled a plug on you - everything just melts.

So today, Advil is my friend. Tomorrow, the school is hosting a seminar by Helio Gracie, followed up by a party. Since I'm so new, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to absorb, but when you have the opportunity to meet a master and learn from him, I figure its a good idea to do it.

Quick aside about the train ride home yesterday. Usually, its a quiet affair with the train packed with people that work late. Just normal worker folk. A few folks here and there might have a beer or two on the way back to unwind, but its casual and no one gets out of hand. Not last night though. Some mid 50's balding slightly overweight corporate guy had gotten himself falling down drunk. I'm not even sure how the hell he managed to walk to the train. He could not or would not pay his fare and kept passing out. Rather than risk confrontation, the conductor just shrugged it off and let him sit there. As we approached our stop at White Plains, the guy tried to get up and promptly crashed to the ground. He struggled up, fell down again. At this point some guy was trying to get him back to his seat - telling him to sit down and take it easy. The drunk guy was waving keys around - so I guess he though he was going to just cruise home. Talk about a homicide waiting to happen. Ultimately the guy refused any sort of help, the cops were called and picked him up at the train station. What happened after that, I have no idea.

I wonder what made him get that way and if it was a good time or maybe he had gotten a call from his wife telling him she had left him for the pool boy she had been banging for the past six months. Who knows. What I do know is that winding up in jail is generally on the "don't want to do that" list.

Lost Time. Lost Keys.

I could not find my keys for the past couple of days. About five minutes ago, I found them, right where I left them outside on our deck. However, for the life of me I could not remember that until very recently.

Memory is a funny thing. We block things. Forget things. Remember things. And we do so all for myriad reasons that I don't think we understand for the most part. The ability to suppress and the ability to recall memories are very powerful tools and ones we wield blindly, driven by circumstance and mindset. Sometimes its a survival mechanism (suppressing) but forgetting shit -- well that can just be dangerous.

While I may or may not have suppressed memories (don't ask me what ahahhaa) I've always been forgetful. Its not bad like it used to be when I was a kid and would lose my head if it was not attached, but bad enough to be a pain in the butt and bad enough for me to stop doing something few people ever even get a chance to do - fly helos for the Army.

I know people think I left my gig flying helicopters in the Army because of my marriage. While the two of us had our own troubles right off the bat, it had nothing to do with me deciding to leave flight school. The reason I left is that I did not want to kill anyone by making a mistake I felt was inevitable.

I would just forget things flying instruments. I'd forget which way the wind was blowing and make my initial holding pattern turn wrong. I'd forget if I had made that turn at a marker, etc. It never happened enough that I failed a flight or failed a checkride. But it happened enough to make me sick to my stomach as I flew. It affected my confidence and I could not help but wonder what would happen if I forgot in combat or forgot with other lives on the line.

Does that sound like a copout? To some maybe it does. But I tell you what, I'm sure some Sgt. in Iraq would be happy to know I lost my keys and not his life.

One of the keys to not being forgetful is mindfulness. I've been working on that lately as part of my interest in Buddhism. Its something you always work on I guess, but its helped me realize the importance of the inconsequential. Everything is important. Nothing is important. Just pay attention!!!