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.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
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.
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.
Friday, January 07, 2005
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
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
Saturday, January 01, 2005
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."
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."
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
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]
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]
Thursday, December 16, 2004
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 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...
Saturday, December 04, 2004
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.
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.
Posted by Hello
Saturday, November 27, 2004
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...
Posted by Hello
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.
Posted by Hello
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.
Posted by Hello
Thursday, November 25, 2004
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...
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.
Monday, November 08, 2004
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Friday, September 24, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, July 30, 2004
Hey A New Post
Its been too long between posts. Blah Blah etc etc. Yeah Yeah.
On the mat:
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.
- 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.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
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.
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.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
