Fear of humiliation, fear of failure.

You know.... I've started three companies, sold one, am running the other two. I've got three great kids and I'm happily married. I've quit smoking, quit drinking, changed my diet, become a distance runner, etc., etc., etc.

Yet, the only reason I'm writing the above is because I'm embarrassed that I lasted only 24 hours on this crazy-ass fast. But you know what? It is what it is. I'd rather be somewhat ashamed than be a short-tempered prick.

Oh, well.

My reference book, Nutritional Healing, has a section on juice fasts, which sound more up my alley. I think eating *nothing* and being in an active family of five just doesn't cut it for me. And when I try it, I'll blog it, even it means blogging a failure.

Fast, Day 1: This is NOT for parents with kids.

I think I'm going to bail. It's only been 24 hours, but honestly: serving your kids ketchup-laden french fries while your other kid is having a huge bowl of ice cream... well.... let's just say I'm being non-optimal. In fact, I'm being a short-tempered guy. Sticking to healthy food is fine. Sticking to nothing in the face of all this stuff on TOP of the non-stop questions from the kids is a little too much. Unless I check into a hotel for a couple of days.

Fast, Day 1: A mistake?

I just got off the phone with Maggie... and she said that our race is Wednesday, not Thursday. For some reason, I thought the 20th was a Wednesday. This kind of throws of my whole plan, since I need two days to start get back on the food trail from fasting.

Grrr. What to do?

Fast, Day 1: Cayenne bonanza!

Last night, before I went to bed, I took a sip of the lemonde mixture I made. Holy CRAP. The pepper was was unbelievably strong. I wrote my semi-hippie-yoga-nutritionist and asked her if that was supposed to be the case.

Turns out I doubled the cayenne by mistake. Tee hee.

So I just whipped up a new batch. 8 ounces for about 10 minutes from now. 40 ounces for the day.

The morning starts with Oxy-Mag, though. It's the stuff that's supposed to really clean you out. I can say, hands-down, that it is the most un-food-tasting thing I've had in my life. Icky poo.

Off to work.

Fast: The evening before.

I'm about to prep my drinks for tomorrow. It's a combination of:

Cayenne pepper
Lemon Juice
Raw honey
Water

Also, I'm going to by taking this stuff called Oxy Mag, which apparently oxidizes all the crap, literally, leftover in your intestines from years and years of self-abuse. I have this weird idea in my head that I'm going to somehow poop out a whole, pristine, Big Mac from 1994.

I've been eating really well for the past month... mostly just fruits and vegetables... EXCEPT for lunch today, which was, um, three pieces of pizza. And, um, another two when I got home. I think I freaked out over the idea of what I'm going to do tomorrow. Also, I have a race on 7/20, the Nike Run-Hit Wonder in Manhattan.

So I might keep the fast to five days so I have one day to recover before the race.

In a way, Danny Glover sucks ass.

I have insider information. And Danny Glover can be highly dishonerable.

I t just needed to be said.

My fast starts tomorrow.

Here's something I haven't tried...

...and I'm not talking about french-kissing an otter. I mean, I've never done that either, but I'm probably not gonna. Unless the otter is REALLY hot. I mean, like, a BABE. But the thing is, I don't know what makes an otter hot. Fur quality?

Wait. I'm off on a tangent, and I haven't even started writing.

I'm doing a 5-7 day fast. Starting Friday. It's a detox/cleansing thing, planned for by my semi-hippie-boxing-yoga-nutritionist person. For that time, all I get to drink is "lemonade" made with lemon juice, cayenne pepper and honey. Also, I'm supposed to take this oxidizing powder that makes you poop all the time.

My friend (who is quite outspoken about things) did this about six months ago. She told me that LONG after she shouldn't have been pooping anymore, she kept on doing so.

She would think "Now where were YOU hiding?"

The 10 year itch....

...not THAT kind of itch. Perverts.

Maggie and I are getting married in the Catholic church on October 2. That will be one day after our 10th anniversary. I have such mixed feeling about the church in general, but I really like the church we attend. That, and our favorite priest is going to do the ceremony. He's an awesome dude, and frankly, is quite the handsome chap. When I see him, I think: "I can't BELIEVE that guy isn't allowed to date." He'd make some lady very, very psyched.

Our original wedding was a Jewish ceremony, which rocked. But, having converted to Catholocism a couple of years ago, it's time to get hitched again, all proper-in-the-church-like.

My persepctive has changed, baby.

So I ran the Bronx Half-Marathon at an 8:24 pace. I was a little disappointed. I mean, it was great fun... and I beat last year's time by 38 seconds per mile, but I wanted to try to get under 8:15, which is my current personal best. This is the first race I've run twice.

Three years ago, I couldn't run a quarter mile.

So, over the last five years, I've gone from a pack-and-a-half-a-day smoker and problem drinker to Mr. Green Tea and distance running. I wonder what Maggie really makes of all this? Does it make her insecure? That I'll someday revert to my self-destructive and unhealthy ways?

I hope not. I mean: how can I? She's letting me go to a bachelor party in Montreal.

:-)

These moments.

It's 5:22am, and I just finished a brief Yoga routine. As is my norm, now, I had a huge glass of water-with-with-lemon-juice right when I woke up, and I'm about to have a cup of green tea. Then I'm going to go upstairs to take a shower, shave, and head out to run the Bronx Half-Marathon. The iPod is has a new playlist for the occasion.

It's moments like these when I ask myself: holy SHIT. Who ARE you?

One week in Montauk.

Just got back from a week in Montauk, NY. We met some friends from our old neighborhood in Brooklyn (something that's become a yearly thing) at a hotel on Old Montauk Highway. The weather kind of sucked, and we came back one day early.

It was fun though. Several people commented that I'm much less "angst-ridden" than I used to be... and that I look a hell of a lot healthier. Although one friend said "I think we need a little of the old-school 'slacker rich' around here."

The Bronx Half-Marathon is Sunday. I'm totally psyched.

More later.

Uh oh: O’Connor retires.

Bye bye, Roe v. Wade. Hello, Antonin Scalia, Version 2.0.

The most powerful action a President can take is to nominate a Supreme Court Justice. Because it’s a lifetime appointment, and because opinions rendered by the Court become the Law of the Land, each selection affects the course of Constitutional interpretation for the next several decades. The impact is absolutely profound.

There’s a precarious political balance on the Supreme Court, and it looks like it’s about to tilt seriously to the right.

Uh oh.

If you could see me right now...

...I'm pretty certain you'd be mildly uncomfortable. I just ran, so I'm sitting here in silver running boxer-briefs (shiny!), gym socks and some sweet Asics Kayano XI sneakers. I'm also covered in sweat. Like seriously. I don't stink, however. At least I don't think so.

When I got home from work today, I weight 173.6 pounds! I haven't seen that weight for years and years.

The wife and kids have gone to the in-laws, a few days before our big trip to Montauk. I'll be joining them on Saturday. I'm home alone. They called to say goodnight and it was painfully cute.

I think I'll get crazy and watch the Daily Show before I go to bed.

Who loves you, oh, internet reader? I do. Come here and give us a hug. Don't be shy.

[Adult] Correction from my wife.

"Actually, honey, the way it went was this:

You: D. is having a bachelor party. In Montreal.
Me: You should go. It would be fun.
You: What am I going to do? I can't drink.
Me: You can touch the stripper's boobies.
You: Really??
Me: But you can't rub your dick between them.
You: Okay!!"

[Adult] I asked my wife about a bachelor party.

Check this:

I got invited to a bachelor party. In Montreal. I asked my wife what she thought about me going. She said:

"You can go, and you can touch the stripper's boobies."

Then she said:

"But you can NOT put your dick between them."

Needless to say, I was utterly stunned.

Big technology... for I Spy.

I've got a behemoth Mac at home. Dual 2.3 Ghz G5s, 2.5 Gigs of Memory, a Terabyte of drive space, multiple burners, and twin Dell 19" monitors Flat Panel Monitors (Yes, I know) to make the desktop humongous.

So why am I writing this on a 12" iBook? Because my son wants to play on Cartoon Network on the PC, and my daughter wants to play I Spy on the Mac.

So I'm doing marketing work that is much easier on the dual-monitor system here, on this 12" screen.

It's funny.

At some point, I'll have to do the Vanity Geek thing and do a little technology rundown of my home office.

Peace out, babycakes.

Scary massage comment.

So, I went to my favorite massage lady after hurting my shoulder, and it not getting better. We were talking about my new nutritionist hippie lady, and it turns the person who runs the nutrition/yoga program is a friend of the massage therapist.

Anyway. I mentioned that I had had pneumonia once and bronchitis three times over the last year… and that my psoriasis had spiked recently.

She said: “That’s interesting. You know Chinese medicine dicates that lung problems express themselves in the skin, and the lungs are tied to a specific emotion: grief.”

What fascinates me about this is that my lung problems started up somewhat concurrently with the seriously bad craziness with my parents. I can’t help but wonder if the results of his last episode of borderline behavior (police involvement, their moving without telling me, etc), have left me a bit fucked up, in terms of the slow realization that, in spite of how much damage they did to my wife and life, I’m incredibly, incredibly sad that I may not see them again.

In over my head?

Tomorrow, I’m teaching a one-on-one course to someone I’ve never met. Not only that, I’ve never taught this particular class before. Not only that, but the curriculum itself was only written yesterday. Not only that, but I’m a little freaking nervous. It’s the wife of the VP of a real estate firm who’s husband wants her to learn computers.

While I think I’m wholly competent to do it, I’m just a little nervous. It's a good course, it's just being field tested rather suddenly.

Moral compass.

I have come to realize that my eldest son has a better moral compass than I do. Or at the very least, I ascribe to him a lesser degree of behavioral self-regulation than he really has. I’ve found, recently, that when I think he’s behaving badly, he’s actually often not: he’s reacting to other’s behavior that I haven’t witnessed.

I need to wield that judgment stick a little more carefully.

Gay vague.

The New York Times had an awesome article. It describes how it's getting harder and harder to tell who is gay and who is not... at least in New York. There are a bunch of reasons for this... but one of the main ones is:

Who gives a shit?

After all, it seems the only folks who are virulently anti-gay are those who are, well, gay and in denial.

Rock on.

Air hockey heaven and sugar hell.

Quitting sugar gives me urges a lot like quitting nicotine did in 2000. Frankly, I'm a little suprised at this. At my oldests' birthday party (which was today), I was hit with an unbelievable urge for a piece of the ice cream cake. I actually decided to HAVE it. But then I didn't. WTF?

Went for my first over-10k run since this latest bout of brochitis. It felt pretty good, but my left lung is clearly working better than my right. It feel so /tight/. I did 11k, and then got ready for the party. July 10 is my next half-marathon, so I've got to get cookin.

Best party moment: my daughter climbing the rock wall. She's five, she's brave, and and she climbed higher than most of the boys. And when she let go, she kicked off the wall, just like a pro. I played Air Hockey with her, too... she's so intense and joyful and focused it just makes me burst with love to watch her.

My oldest was clearly in his element. I think he had a blast. We spent a lot of time together today... just the two of us. It's amazing how wonderfully we get along when it's just the two of us. We sat at the counter in the diner, and he said to me: "When we're alone, I like being with you more than anyone." That's a VERY complex statement, when you think about it.

Okay. My kids need help setting up their new toys. Ah, birthday season!

Windows XP Sucks Camel Ass.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

You are unprotected from three new threats. You are now protected from all rapidly spreading threats. HELP MAKE WORD BETTER. Outlook.exe has crashed, send error report? eAccess Violation. Rules created for program "iexplorer.exe." Dell Quicket has disabled your network card. Wireless network unavailable.

Oh. My. God.

People out there. If I ever claim to be going Windows again, please stop me.

This is being written on an iBook. Unix. And it's smooth as silk.

Dell Financial Services: Satan’s Minions?

Dell Financial Services has been calling my office for over a year, trying to collect on money apparently owed to them by a company that used to have my office’s phone number. For 11 months, I was civil. I would politely tell them that we are not “Transmedia” and that they probably used to have our phone number. At month 11, I asked them to stop calling.

They said “No.”

Seriously. The guy said “If you don’t have a number for them, I’m just going to keep calling you.”

So I decided to stop being civil. The next time Dell called, I pretended to be insane. They stayed on the phone for me for ten minutes. At one point, they asked me my name. I said “My new name is Michael Dell. And I am strong.” They said “What name did your MOTHER and FATHER give you.”

I started weeping uncontrollably and screaming “WHY? WHY? DID YOU HAVE TO BRING THEM UP?” Then I whispered “They locked me up, you know. They locked me up in a closet.” Eventually, they hung up. O

Once, I recognized their number on caller ID, and I answered the phone “Dell Financial Services: GIVE ME YOUR MONEY.” .

So yesterday, one of my employees actually got a supervisor’s number. And she was a true cranky-head. But she also agreed to remove any “of the numbers she had access to” from the call list.

We’ll see what happens.

Caffeine withdrawal = belief in a soul?

Thanks to Kim the Health Lady, I have a pretty whomping level of caffeine withdrawal. I’m down from my morning routine of 1/5 cups on waking and a Venti Redeye from Starbucks at 7:30am, to a cup of green tea on waking (after the 32ounces of lemon water, fo course) followed by another cup of green tea around 7:30. That’s about a 85 – 90% reduction in caffeine.

The center of my brain is working perfectly. Or rather, the place in my head where I hear my own thoughts is functioning at full speed. But when I try to express these things to the people around me, something gets lost in the process. It’s like there’s an enforced distance between me internally, me externally, and whoever I’m trying to talk to.

Is this a vastly reduced version of what it’s like for Alzheimer’s patients? I always thought of it as a crumbling of consciousness…. But maybe it’s more of a Pulling Back.

Hippie nutritionist yoga lady, part I.

So I went to see my nutritionist/yoga/holistic healer person for my first appointment. Her name is Kimberly. She taught me some different breathing excercises, gave me a short class on foods, walked on my back, and...

...we agreed that I would immediately quit coffee and refined sugar.

So today, for the first time in YEARS, I've had green tea only. And not that much, either. It's been pretty interesting. I got all hazed out from not having my traditional 300mg of caffeine in the morning (Green tea has 26mg/tea bag, as opposed to my wake-up cup and half + Starbucks redeye I have before 7:30am), and my guess is that I'm going to go to sleep on time tonight.

But other than that, I'm pretty okay. Just a little slow.

Oh: I had my pulmonary function tests done today. All the numbers were green except two. That's a good thing, I understand.

Waiting for Yonah.

Well, the moment I heard Apple was switching to Intel, I eBayed my PowerBook and am sticking with this here PC until they come out. I figured I could get WAY more for it now than I could a year from now.

I'm was thinking about doing that with my G5, but considering that I use Logic, Final Cut, and Motion... I just don't think a desktop PC is going to cut it for me.

Also, the Yonah-driven PowerBooks should be out the door come early 2006. I can use this here Dell for that long. Mmmm.... dual-core mobile chips...

God, I'm pathetic.

It's not like sex, but...

Thank goodness the big macrobiotic switchover doesn't start until Tuesday.

Yesterday we held a birthday party for my youngest. Part of fiesta involved a little "decorate your own cupcake." There were lots of leftovers.

Now, I'm sitting in my basement office, dipping mini-pretzels into chocolate icing.

I've heard women say about various things: "Oh, it's better than sex." To me, NOTHING is better than sex. However, this IS akin to a really excellent makeout session.

My next Big Thing.

I’ve made a lot of changes over the last five years. I quit smoking. I quit drinking. I became a distance runner. I eat a lot better. I spend a significant amount of time trying into improve my parenting, husbandhood, company, etc…

…so why the fuck am I sick all the time?

In the last year and a half, I’ve bronchitis three times and pneumonia once. I’ve been knocked flat on my ass repeatedly. I mean, I NEVER felt this sick when I was smoking two packs a day and drinking too much for my own good. And asthsma? Who the fuck develops asthma in their mid-to-late 30’s??? AAAAAAAH!

That’s what I get for being healthy. Or so joked a friend of mine.

So I’ve decided this: Something is wrong. Is it 8-year-old dorito’s stuck somewhere in my small intestine? Damage to my lungs that has compromised my immune system? Has my liver not recovered from the non-stop assault it underwent in years past?

I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.

Enter Jena Wellness center, of New York City. I heard about them online, and decided to give them a shot. Supposedly, I’ve entered into a six-month agreement to do a thorough detoxification (not from drugs or alcohol, since I don’t do those, but of toxins in general), learn how to cook super-healthy meals NYC style (read: 20 minutes or less), learn basic yoga (how Maggie laughed at that one: she’s been asking me to do this for years!) and a whole bunch of other super-duper healing things.

Am I cynical? Hell yes. Am I absolutely willing to embarrass myself silly doing precisely what they tell me to do, to become healthier?

Hell, YES.

Talk about a failed experiment. Yeesh.

Remember when I tried to give up auto-erotica on May 18th? Well, I figured, "hell, I'm not giving up SEX..." But then Maggie got sick, and our normally frequent rate of marital union dropped off, and, well, within two weeks I was a wreck. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I was physically uncomfortable, could barely concentrate, and... and...

DAMN YOU, NEW YORK CITY WOMEN IN HOT WEATHER.

Or perhaps I should say "Thank you."

Anyway. That's totally done. I'm not going to try that one again. Ever. I'll stick with not drinking or smoking.

Ass-Face, Stalkers, and Bleu Cheese Burgers

For no good reason, I feel a little odd about reading this blog I came across a while back and have come to really like. It's called Tiny Coconut. My feelings about it raise some genernal issues about this whole blogging thing... the voyeuristic nature, the strangely personal window into a total stranger's life...

I like Tiny Coconut because it's very well written from several perspectives: stylistic, self-expression, and content. I can relate to some of it. And most importantly, I like it because I feel like I could hang with the author. That's unusual, in both real life and the blogosphere.

It's probably clear to the author that I read her work once a week or so. I comment fairly often. She's even referred so my comments in one of her posts. My fear, then, is that she'll think I'm some kind of ass-face, a stalker, or an ass-faced stalker.

Talk about esteem issues. Sheesh.

Anyway, we're making Bleu Cheese Burgers tonight. Rock ON.

Haiku Apology

seven five seven?
I wrote while playing Halo
five seven five, duh.

Halo Haiku

Halo against my oldest
once was so easy
now I must fight to survive.

Like mother, like daughter.

My daughter is driving her Mom a little batty.

The boys...
The boys listen.
The boys STOP when you say stop.
The boys will back off.

Not my daughter. She just pushes and pushes... and when the hammer comes down (meaning, a time out in her room), she just cries and screams and weeps and... it's just infuriating and heartbreaking at the same time.

Apparently, Maggie was quite similar when she was a little girl.

Maggie is actually going out tonight just to get a break. She hates going out alone.

Those drums sure sound funny.

So, I have this electronic drum kit I play at night, when the kids go to sleep. It's full-size, and you can hit it full force. Nothing I would ever play on stage, but it's a way to keep myself playing, even in parenthood.

I just tried to record a little, but I hit the wrong switch. So instead of hearing the actual DRUMS, all you hear is the clickety-clack of the triggers.

Strangely, it doesn't sound half bad.

Shimmer.

7am.

My daughter is next to me, gently radiating a soft and wonderful light. She's lying on her side, favorite blanket on top of her, and she's positioned her feet so they are flush against my leg.

At this moment, my life is perfect.

Sleep.

Sometimes, all I want is 7-9 consecutive hours of uninterrupted sleep. Is that so bad?

It pays to be straightforward.

"Just fire her," I was advised by several. "Just ASK her," I was advised by two.

So I just asked her.

She's covering her bases, in case of a slowdown. She knows that sales are off a bit, and that we her job would be the first to go. So she checked out what her teaching options were. She says this was the first ad of this kind to which she responded. And you know what, I believe her. And if that screws me down the road, so be it.

What did come of this what that she might not want the job that's available for her. We're going to discuss further. But that's a whole different, and wholly more adult way of doing things.

Third time firing someone in 12 years.

I consider myself to be a really good boss. If folks are trying to do right by my company, I try to do right by them. Loyalty matters to me greatly, and loyalty is a two-way street.

So my most long-term employee is getting married in June. She's asked for a lot of days off. I've given her all of them. Last week she told me she had a chance to go on her honeymoon for two weeks instead of one. I asked: do you have any plans on leaving the company anytime soon? She said "Not at all." I said "In that case, we'll pay you an extra week's vacation. You only get married once."

Now, I've had some problems with her. Not personally, but in that she hasn't been able to do the job I originally hired her to do. She just didn't have the skills, by her own admission. Nor did she have much of an interest in acquiring them (some of the deficiency was a lack of industry knowledge). Thus, her position has been morphing into more of an office manager/account exec role, and the goal was to get her more towards pure account exec over time..

Now, because she couldn't do the original job, I just hired a third person. (Our company has many people outside, very few inside). I moved our office to a moderately bigger space. Bought new computers. Monitors. All kinds of financial commitments based on the first employee's commitment to staying with me. I've had no complaints from her about her job whatsoever.

Last night, we had a technical problem. Emails got caught in a loopback, and were being delivered over and over and over and over. In checking mail accounts to see which were being affected, I found that my employee had forwarded herself (dozens of times) an email wherein she stated that she had nearly finished her certification training, and was hoping to leave the "Creative Agency" where she was now, and become a teacher in the fall.

Which would have been fine, had she told me before I committed thousands of dollars to an office move, new equipment for her, etc.

So, this morning, I'm firing her. I HATE doing this. I HATE it. But my company is NOT a charity.

Parenting: Ego and the selfish bastard.

The thing I have to practice every day is replacing the words "In one minute" with "Sure!" I tend to put off my kids a little bit, while I should be responding to them immediately. At least some of the time. I need to remember that they won't always be asking me to do stuff, and I'm going to miss it.

Love to all.

Database goggles.

When I work on the database at work, I use the folowing tools:

1) iTunes, playing the same song over and over again.
2) FileMaker Pro
3) Database Goggles

My database goggles are yellow. And they're the final component in battling whatever ADD / hypomanic focusing deficits I have. They are very helpful.

Reclamation.

It's nighttime.

So many things have been semi-restored today. Carter isn't dying yet. "This isn't a dying dog I'm looking at," said the vet. He's got something wrong with his tummy (aside from the liver cancer), but he's alert, and pretty darn happy.

A lady who said something inaccurate to my insurance company (after that little fender bender) actually called and changed her story to the truth, after I left a friendly (really!) message on her machine about how there was a misunderstanding, and how nice it was that we went to the same church (at my priest's suggestion).

I had some chances to speak in anger, and didn't take them.

I got a lot done at work today..

I'm going to have some ice cream, and go to bed. I have to wake up in six hours.

Oh, shit.

Carter just threw up blood. Twice.

He seems okay, now. We're bringing him to the vet tomorrow. If he starts decompensating, we're going to put him down. He doesn't SEEM that bad. But do we want to wait until it IS that bad?

Do clones have souls?

I'd appreciate some comments on this. If this is to heady or religious or whatever, feel free to read the poop report below.

Thank you.

The worst poop of all time.

1 second: preparation.
10 seconds: poop in progress.
20 seconds: kids start screaming from downstairs (they're in the bath).
25 seconds: I run down stairs superfast. (There's nothing wrong.)
35 seconds: I'm back up stairs.
38 seconds: poop in progress.
38 seconds: the phone rings. I get up to get it because Maggie is out with one of the kids.
46 seconds: someone calling about an old babysitter ad. I try to say it's filled.
56 seconds: sit down. poop in progress.
1 minute, 10 seconds: phone rings. I get up to get it because Maggie is out with one of the kids.
1, minute 25 seconds: it's the same person, calling me back to ask for babysitting recommendations.
1 minute, 35 seconds: I grab my computer on the way back to the bathroom.
1 minute, 45 seconds: poop in progress.
2 minutes: this update in progress, while pooping.
2 minutes, 10 seconds: my daughter comes out of the bath and starts coming up the stairs, I yell "Privacy! Privacy!" She yells "BUT DAD!" I respond "NO! PRIVACY!"
3 minutes, 10 seconds: this update is finished.
3 minutes, 15 seconds: FLUSH.

Not the most polite thing to wish upon someone.

Either my brother-in-law has Asperger Syndrome, or he's an asshole.

Thus, I'm really hoping he has Asberger. It's such a strange and nearly mean thing to say, but read the description and you'll understand why I'm saying this.

I might write more about this tomorrow. But I wanted to say this right now. I think he's ill. And if he's not, he's a selfish, cheap, disrespectful, clueless, self-entitled... oh, Lord. I need to pray more.

Either way, it makes him someone diffcult to be around.

AssJack.

That's me.

You know, if you (being me) act the same way for, oh, 36 years, and then don't ALWAYS act that way for like 6 months, it's probably not rational to expect your wife to instantly have faith in your actions.

Ah, Maggie. Why do you put up with me?

Bickersville, NY

Welcome to Bickersville!

It's a special place where YOU will think you're wife is jumping to conclusions, reacting to attitudes you don't have, and pre-emptively telling you to "calm down," while SHE will think you're on edge, spoiling for conflict, and worried about things before they might even happen!

Come set a spell!

Master of my domain. (Thanks, Jerry!)

I’m giving up any sort of auto-erotica for the next month. 90 days, if it seems to be helpful. I decided to do this because I want to spend all of my non-spousal sexual energy on righting my attitudes and sharpening my focus. My mentor-dude suggested it to me, too. No worries friends, I won’t update on this daily, but probably weekly.

I think the last time I did this would be, um, before I hit puberty.

As an aside: This week, my blog attracted visitors who searched for “Gay Gorilla, Catholics and Birth Control, isight baby monitor, hypomania, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, 24 and season one and finale and spoiler, prolific pl 3507, catholics pro birth control, isight as baby monitor, discpline for kids, and are trolls real?"

Man. That's just weird. Okay: off to the world of the non-masturbatory.

LIES!!! Lies?

There are two Why’s here.

1) Why do people lie?
2) Why am I surprised that people lie?

I mentioned that I got into a minor fender-bender the morning Maggie was leaving for the airport. Here’s how it went down: I pulled out of a parallel parking space at approximately the same time that someone made a left turn (from a side street) onto the same place I was pulling out. We hit.

I didn’t know who’s fault it was. At first I thought she was coming down the main road, and I just missed her. (That would be pretty unusual for me, honestly. I’m fairly alert.) But then it turned out she had made a left turn.

To make a long story medium, she lied to her insurance company. She told them she was traveling down the MAIN road for two or three MINUTES. And that I pulled out and hit her. This contradicts the police report, and the actual EVENTS. WTF?

To top it off, it turns out this lady gives Communion at my church, and I know her husband from the train station.

Why did she lie? Why am I surprised that she lied?

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

See, I'm not afraid to curse on my blog.

Shit.

WTF? Mild to moderate discontent.

I'm irritable. Not quite cranky. But discontent and nervous.

I'm worried about work. Sales at my office have dropped from $17k/week down to so about 11. We've got 12 new possible positions ready to roll, so that could change things in a hurry.

I feel like I'm not doing enough at work, although I'm doing a LOT at work. I feel like I can't accomplish enough, do enough, be enough. Ugh.

Hour 84: Maggie returns.

Maggie's home. The kids and I were very excited to see her.

Weirdly, we just got into an argument. My oldest and I were watching survivor, and Maggie came in when we were chattering about this insanely long immunity challenge. At the commercal, Maggie picked up the control and started turning off the sound. I got pissed. I know why, too. This was a flashback to something we used to argue about all the time. Whenever we watched TV together, for like, years, Maggie would turn down the volume every time a commercial came on, regardless of whether I was watching it or not. It just drove me crazy that she never asked.

Hm. Instead of the happy little reunion, we had a flashback to Silly Arguments Circa 1997.

Ugh. I'm going to go apologize.

Hour 82: A dented plane.

Maggie should have been home by now, but her plane was dented. That's correct. "Dented." Northwest had to replace her plane with another one. It landed at 6:15-ish, so she should be back soon.

I've had a real blast with these kids. I think that, in just a few days, I learned a bit about intercepting my own responses, to take kinder action instead of being so damn snippy.

Time to get them out of the bath.

Hour 75. Holy SHIT.

Now I know why Maggie never updates her blog. Running this household is like running a small business, only MORE so. There's never enough time to catch up on anything. I'm off to drop my daughter at a birthday party, then it's a soccer game for the oldest.

Tonight, Maggie comes home. I have a whole new respect for her. Not that I didn't respect her before, but now I understand the lack of concrete accomplishment, of *finish*, that often makes her a tad depressed.

Hour 31: Right-sized.

I was on the phone with my mentor/friend. I was kind of bragging that I've kept it all together for a whole day. The dishes are done, laundry is in progress. Everyone's been picked up and delivered where they need to be.

He said: "yeah, Rich. I can't do that for two days, two. Do it for two years, and THEN talk to me."

Right, right.

Hour 22: Clarity, SpeedyKid, House of Rainbows.

This is one of those mornings where I am just SO happy to have given up drinking. I mean, it's always the right decision for me, but this morning it's PARTICULARLY great. I'm on about five hours sleep, since Carter needed to go out at 5am and I didn't go to bed until after midnight. Clarity rocks. Usually.

(Pause to get "jam or jelly or any of that type of thing" for my oldest.)

My oldest is on FIRE. He's in constant motion, jumping back and forth as he talks, spilling my coffee, arguing with his sister, being joyous and, being well, fully eight years old.

My daughter made a paper house, and is coloring it with multiple rainbows. She came into my room this morning at 6am. She asked me why I was sleeping on Maggie's side of the bed. I said "because I miss your Mom." She liked this answer a lot. She came into bed with me for a few minutes, and I scratched her head and gloried in the highlights in her hair.

Hour 14: Insomnia, Ickiness.

Note to self: NO MORE CHINESE FOOD.

My oldest couldn't sleep, and came in to talk about 40 minutes ago. I was half asleep, but now I'm wide awake.

Sigh.

Hour 11: Playdate Undone, Timewarp.

"Put the accordion DOWN."

Man. The things we say as parents. After the third time my two youngest got out of bed to ask me, jokingly, "Is it time for breakfast yet?"... I started to get kind of mad. I told them to get back in bed, please, and when my youngest picked up a little plastic musical instrument and started tooting it back and forth, I uttered the brilliant sentence above.

Moving back in time a little...

So I managed to get to the bus stop in time. My oldest boy asked me for an offsite playdate, my daughter for an onsite. All the kids and parents were at the bus stop, so I talked to both. Deals were made. My oldest went off with his friend and friend's mom, I took my daughter home, to meet up with her friend a few moments later.

Neat.

Then, my oldest got sick, and I had to cancel both playdates and bring him home. He crashed immediately. Then, my daughter decided she hated everything I could possibly offer for dinner. Then, my youngest got mad and told me that I couldn't come to his birthday party.

Then, everything turned fine again. My youngest two took a bath, we played games, and I put them to bed. My oldest woke up. He thought he had slept through the night, and was wondering why the other kids were still in bed. He's sitting across from me, doing homework. In half an hour, we're going to watch a little jurassic park. All is well in the world.

I talked to Maggie: she sounds like she's really enjoying the time off. Room service is her best friend right now.

Hour 6: Broccoli, Coal Tar, Hose Battle 2k5

The accident report is finito. It's up to the insurance folks, now.

Picked up my youngest and took him to the local pizza place. He's been talking about the one time we went their together (alone)... so I thought this was a good time to do it again. We were there 10 minutes... enough time for the boy to eat the cheese off of half a slice of pizza, and he say "Okay! Let's go home now!"

While he played in the sandbox, I started planting vegetables. Note to self: do NOT apply coal tar crap to your knees prior to planting veggies. Yuckity yuck yuck yuck.

An hour later, it was HOSE BATTLE 2005! My boy wanted to water the plants. He does this by spraying me with the hose while stomping the living shit out of our fine young broccoli.

:-)

Hour 1: Prescriptions, Car Accidents.

So, Maggie got an infection that required a prescription. Naturally, this was the morning she was supposed to fly to Minneapolis. I didn't have my cell phone, and hers died. So she tried calling her doctor from the pay phone. Four quarters later, she was out of change, and disconnected. Finally, we went to the pharmacy, used their phone. and waited to see if they would call in a prescription. They did. We picked up the prescription and went to the car. Time was beginning to feel a little tight. We drove off to the airport.

Wham.

When I was pulling out of my parking space, a woman made a left turn onto the same road. She was precisely perpendicular to me. I didn't see her, and we collided.

Here's the part where I turn into a jackass. At first, I thought I hit someone coming down the street. I thought it was totally my fault. So I got out of the car saying "oh, I'm so sorry, it's my fault." Then, when I was trying to figure out what happened, I said "You must have completed your turn, because of where I hit you." THEN I realized that I was standing in the wrong place, that the car was further back, and that it's quite possible it was either an entirely mutual hit, or that SHE HIT ME.

But naturally, she quoted what I said to the police, so that I would get all the blame.

I'm been on my own for an hour. I'm not doing such a good job. Let's hope things improve.

- R

p.s. This all took place AFTER we got all the kids off to school. Thank goodness.

First Run.

Oh, baby.

I just ran my first 5 miles since I started since getting over my latest bout with bronchitis. I feel SO FUCKING GREAT.

Whoa. Sorry.

Anyway... Maggie leaves tomorrow, so I'm SuperSoloDad for the next 96 hours. Just me and the kids. I'm psyched.

Gay rights and Gay marriage. A recap.

Why am I so gung-ho on gay rights, gay marriage, etc?

Because it's the one issue about which there aren't two valid sides. If you have a problem with gay people, you are WRONG. Period. You want to talk abortion, I'll discuss it with you. I'm pro-choice, but I can really get where you're coming from. You want to talk drugs? I don't use ANY, but I'm pro-legalization of several.

Most things have two sides.

But this constant use of the "gay issue" to divert attention from relevant problems just makes me sick, sick, sick. And, as I've said previously, this new movement to ban gays from adopting children is, literally, child abuse. Preventing children from having loving families is criminal.

It's no wonder that multiple high-profile cases of anti-gay politicians actually being gay, or even worse, totally maludjested because of self-loathing that they did terrible things instead of just DATING GUYS.

Sheesh.

96 hours with the kids.

Maggie is going to visit college friends on Thursday. She'll be gone for four whole days! Yikes!

Now, I've gone away on business before... and Maggie has gone away with the kids, but she's never gone away WITHOUT the kids. I'm taking Thursday and Friday and working from home... yikes!

I'm actually looking forward to it a lot. I love my kids intensely and sometimes I feel that the train-work-train-eat-sleep cycle is causing a little distance between us. I guess that's the nature of Fatherhood, but I'm psyched for some quantity time.

Aaaaaaaaaaah!

aaaaah!
aaaaaah!
aaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!


Sometimes, I just want to scream. So I did.

Dad, can we listen to Led Zeppelin?

Seriously. My 8 year old just asked me this. I said yes. Now we're playing ping-pong and listening to Black Dog.

I figured Zeppelin IV was a good place to start hiim off, since he doesn't know specific albums.

Whoa.

Happy, um, Mother's Day?

We have a tradition of making breakfast in bed for Mother's/Father's day. My children have a tradition of eating that breakfast (and often fighting over it) before the Mother/Father in question has a nary a bite.

This year, I'm going to bring TWO plates upstairs. One for Maggie, one for the kids. Lets see how THAT works out.

I just took my wife and Mother-in-Law out to dinner, which was very pleasant. I thanked my Mother-in-Law for doing a solid job with Maggie... because, well, my wife rocks. Hard.

I realized today that I sometimes don't think about my parents for a couple of days at a time. I realized this because WAS thinking about them, because another Mother's day is coming where I won't see them. Since the last incident with my father (where we had to call the cops), I haven't spoken with them at all. I think that we're coming up on two years. I don't really know. It was too crazy and traumatic for me to really track dates. Ugh.

Sad, because I love my parents. And the fact that I don't think about them every day anymore is both depressing and a relief. I don't think my Dad will ever come around. He didn't speak to his mother for around 14 years, nor to his brother for the same-ish time period. So I have no reason to think he'll come around anytime soon.

Anyway: Happy Mother's Day, Mom. And Dad, too. You know what I mean.

Mac OS X Tiger - Apple has a drinking problem.

With Mac OS X 10.4, it seems that Apple dreamed big, and executed sans precision. The interface has become clunkier (especially for regular searches), inconsistent, and inconvenient. Trying to set up my Epson Photo 2200 was positively Windows-esque! I had to actually BYPASS the Epson choices to "other," then select alternative Epson... ugh, ugh. ugh.

10.4.1 was just seeded... let's hope it contains improvements. Big time.

Stairways and Cards

I had to carry Carter down the stairs today. Then he was up and about.

Now, I'm printing a Mother's Day card... it's a composite of all the kids trying the trapeze at Club Med. Cool.

That's what I get.

I leave my IM information on my company website. I get some weird and random people writing me sometimes. I also get some really awesome folks... But several times a year, I get something like the following...



Dudes. If you’re gonna IM someone, please introduce yourself. Someone's got to give ol' Winstonagard some etiquette lessons.

Sheesh.

So she asks me...

I'm on a gig for my second company, and in the course of talking about my recent trip to Club Med, I mention to the client that I'm a teetotaler... but that I'm in favor of OTHER people drinking, smoking pot, whatever... And she asks me: "Are you a recovering alcoholic?"

And I said: "um... no."

Screamer.

Why do I yell? Why do I get so damn frustrated with my kids that I raise my voice? I mean, it's not like I should be SUPRISED that they started arguing and yelling for me again, after I put them down for the night (after playing two of their favorite games (and after creating a long and heavily embedded run-on sentence)).

I wish I could just chill a little more. Then again, I'm SO much better than I used to be.

Hey, this PC doesn't completely suck!

I'm writing this from a new Dell 600m. After my eMachines experience of last year, I was hestitant to try ANY PC laptop EVER. But my multiple PowerBook fiascos have caused me to reconsider. And now, drum roll... here is my computing breakdown (not including other computers in the house for other family members).

I. Dual G5 2.3Ghz Tower
II. Dell 600m 1.5Ghz Laptop.
III. PB G4 12" 1.5Ghz Laptop.

I have a feeling I might morph into a PC laptop, Apple desktop kind of guy. Not sure, though. Combined with some other things in my life, I've had several friends ask me if I'm a Republican yet.

The answer is no. But then again, neither is our President.

Florida vs. 13 year old pregnant girl.

A Florida state court just blocked a pregnant 13-year-old girl from having an abortion because she "LACKS THE MATURITY TO MAKE SUCH A DECISION." Holy SHIT. So they are saying that she has the maturity to RAISE a child?

Oh my lord.

Now, I'm not saying that she should be required to terminate the pregnancy because she's too young. I AM saying that having a child at this point in her life would probably completely wreck her future. And I do wonder how the child's life will be.

Abortion is terrible. Of course. But unless the government will feed, house, and care for the mother and child for the duration of bot of their lives, the government needs to stay the fuck out of this kind of thing. It's a choice. And a terrifically hard one at that.

Shit.

Status: holding.

My bronchitis is easing. I love Zithromax. I wonder how long until all the bugs are resistant? Alas. It's inevitable. Just like the impending rise of SuperAids. Eventually, HIV is going to be totally resistant to nearly every drug available. See Malaria as an example of resistance.

I know, purists: malaria isn't viral, it's protozoan.

Anyway. Carter seems fine, still. Some symptoms that may or not be related to his impending downturn have cropped up, but he seems pretty happy.

I just found out that upper respiratory infections cause outbreaks of psoriasis. No wonder the magical Florida Sun effect suddenly reversed itself. SHIT. My elbows and knees look like I took sandpaper to them.

That is all. Sorry for being so random.

Texas lawmakers against children.

Texas is passing a law whose sole purpose is to harm children. They are making it illegal for same-sex couples to adopt foster kids. This takes the flawed and stupid anti-same-sex marriage logic and makes it much, much worse.

Banning same-sex marriage forces the couple to be an unmarried couple. Stupid and wrong, but the relationship between the two people continues.

Banning same-sex couples from adopting foster children forces the foster child to miss out on a fucking FAMILY.

What the fuck is the MATTER with Texas lawmakers? How can ANYONE support this?

Hypomania/Excedrin/Sudafed vs. Sinus Infection/Bronchitis

So, I'm back from Florida.

I got sick on day one. A sinus infection which, as is my tendency, travelled to my chest... which started to hurt in the same spot it always does. It got worse over several days, and I finally called my doctor to see if he would call in some antibiotics. I knew it was bacterial. You know how. And if you don't, I'm not gonna gross you out and tell you.

Reasonably, the doctor said no, and asked me to come in tomorrow.

So I've been on this crazy Excedrine/Sudafed regimen which has kept me going until now. And I even had a fun time in Floriday! Now, though, I'm going to CRRRRRASH.

Gay gorilla!

So, apparently if you search Google for "Gay Gorilla," this site comes up in the top 10. What does this say about me, exactly?

Well, as you've probably guessed: I'm pro-gay. What this means is: I think the whole "gay issue" is one of right and wrong. Unlike nearly every other issue I can think of, I absolutely cannot see the other side's point of view. If you think being gay is wrong, bad, evil, etc... then you are on the "wrong" side of the issue. If you believe that being gay gives you as much of a chance of being a wonderful person, a jackass, a doctor, a criminal, as any other person on the planet, well... you're on the "right" side of the issue. Being gay is just being a person. Period. Finito. No discussion.

There is no in between.

Oh: I also own and sometimes wear a really cool gorilla suit. Thus, the "gay gorilla" search results. Although now I'm probably going to index at number one.

And no: I'm not a closeted gay dude. If I WAS gay, I'd be out there, baby! Safely, of course.

38 pictures, 1 American Mutt.

I took 38 pictures of Carter today. We were outside, roaming the yard. It's so strange to think he's got three or four weeks left. Shit, shit, shit.

Life, you fickle bastard.

The vet called me an hour ago, which was very nice of him since it was his day off. I asked him the questions I needed to ask about Carter, and after I promised that I would not hold him to any of his predictions, he gave me some straight answers. He things Carter will be pretty good for the week we are away. But he thinks he'll only have two or three weeks after that. It could, however, be as long as five or six.

I feel terrible about leaving. I mean, Carter LOVES staying with Holly, and our other dog will be with him... and the vet said it would be absolutely fine. And, of course, my father-in-law has been planning this trip for months and months and months... but I just feel terrible. Everyone on the trip knows that if Carter decompensates at all, I'll be flying back immediately.

So I'm sad. And that's pretty much all I can be. He's a wonderful, emotional, dog. The vet is making an execption with Carter: when the time comes to put Carter down, he'll come to our house to do it.

I will not let him suffer out of selfishness.

I really hope that there’s a doggy heaven.

I just found out that my dog has liver cancer. I’m really saddened by it. He’s a good dog. A friendly dog. And one that I’ve had for twelve years. I found him one day, when I went to buy fish food. There was an adopt-a-day thing happening, and since I like dogs so much, I sat down and pet a few of them. I even took this one other dog, a wheaton terrier, for a walk.

Then, well, there he was.

Jet black, undernourished and somewhat sullen (but not for long!), this dog (temporarily named “Zane”) called to me. He was all black except for a little part on his chest, and one of his toes, which were white. I said at his cage for a while, and he looked at me, and put his paw on my hand.

I took him for a little walk. Then I took him home.

I was scared of him when I bathed him… would he bite me? But no. He let me wash him off, and when he emerged, he was gorgeous. GORGEOUS.

When Maggie came home (she was my girlfriend, then), she was, um, shocked. After all, we were planning on moving to Brooklyn, and how would we find an apartment that allowed large mutts on premises.

We named him Carter.

The first morning he woke up in our bedroom, he was ecstatic. Clearly, he expected to be waking up in a cage somewhere, and instead he was home.

Twelve years passed. Children were born. We got cats. Another dog. We moved from the apartment in Brooklyn to a house in Brooklyn to a house in Westchester.

Without question, this dog has been my truest and loyal friend. He’s been with me through so much. And I’m so terribly, terribly sad at the prospect of his passing.

It could be a week, more likely a month. We’re supposed to go to Florida next week. I have told Maggie that I will be flying home if he seems sicker. I want to be with him when he goes. And if anyone has to put him down, it’s going to be me.

Damn, I love you Carter. You big, garbage-dumping pain in the ass.

Addendum

Let me change what I said about my new hire and other employee. For our needs RIGHT NOW, the new person is a much better fit than my current person. Although I think she (the current person) is incredibly nice and wonderful and a great asset.

It’s just that, in terms of generating what we need to generate, the new person is much more immediately and broadly skilled.

Poop.

What's a boss to do?

The person I hired last week is so much better than the person I currently have that I'm not sure if I need both of them.

Oh, lord.

More on pro-life, catholics, and birth control.

I want to posit this: people who are anti-birth control are inherently pro-abortion. And I don't mean pro-choice. Regardless of what they SAY, people who are against birth control are doing their utmost to promote increased abortions in this country.

Sad, but true.

Your very own Nine Inch Nails song!

How cool is THIS?

Trent Reznor, who's songs drove no small part of my brief foray into clubs in the early 90's, has released a song in Garageband format. This allows folks to remix the song as they see fit. I think this is totally cool. Windows users: you have to buy a Mac to do this.

But hey, a Mac Mini is just $499.

I'm not saying the dude is a Nazi.

Please don't get me wrong. I don't know enough about Cardinal Ratzinger to say he's anything other than an enforcer of the anti-choice, anti-gay doctrine I've come to expect. But I think that, regardless of outcome, and regardless of whether Ratzinger was "forced into" the Hitler youth and did indeed desert the German army out of protest, electing a former Hitler Youth and WWW II German soldier to be Pope would be a disaster. What would that do to the Jewish folks (being a convert therefrom myself...), or to the Islamic world?

Catholics and birth control. This German Cardinal.

Oh, god. OH, GOD.

If they elect this German Cardinal as Pope... the guy who was "forced into being a Hitler Youth..." and who went AWOL from the German army in 1945... (That's at the END OF THE WAR) well... I'm going to go crazy. I just don't know what I'm going to do. Seriously. I've already converted from Judasim to Catholicism. Am I going to have to go Episcopalian?

I mean, I'm down with the Holy Spirit, baby... but MAN. I am NOT going to even pretend to follow the teachings of some hyperconservative Nazi soldier... no matter WHAT kind of epiphany he's had. If he's had one. Someone clue me in. I'm jetting off some nervous energy from reading about this dude in the paper.

Birth control. BIRTH CONTROL. I've said it before: If you're going to be Pro Life/Anti-Choice, then you sure as hell better be Really Really Reallly Pro Birth Control. If you're not, just shut the fuck up because you're a dangerous fucking hypocrite. And probably a classist, as well.

I'm awash in many little fears about the next Pope. And I don't even believe in the whole Direct Messenger of God thing.

Accidentally met with the bigwigs.

So, I had a meeting at an Ad Agency in midtown today. I thought it was with an upper-middle manager of creative. I had been talking with her for a long time, ever since she responded to a direct marketing piece that involved me, a PowerBook, and a Gorilla suit. Quite successful.

It turns out she was a Senior Partner, and the Director of Creative Management for the whole company. And this is a BIG company. AND, bless her amazing self, she invited her newly hired colleague to join us. Well, once I realized that I was meeting with some really high-end folks, I just cut loose and had fun. Professionally, of course. But I had a true blast meeting with these people. It's one of the most storied advertising agencies in history, so I wanted them to be our client.

They're giving us a shot in two weeks. ROCK.

Hold your tongue...

Well, my oldest is being super-cranky this morning. My wife is of the "let him have his moods" school, while I am of the "let him have his moods, but don't do him any favors unless he is being respectful" school. Grrr.

2 Returned PowerBooks.

Man.

So, this is the second time I've had to return a PowerBook to Apple, because the trackpad is so messed up. This is a real drag. On the one hand, the Mac OS is SO much better, but on the other, the hardware tends to blow chunks. At least this time around.

Bleah.

There be mosquitos here!

Well, it's finally spring. DAMN. That took a long time.

I threw my back out yesterday. Halfway. Normally, I'm on a cane for a week when I do this. It seems that, this time, I'm much better off. I'm trying to take it easy, take (short term), and not do myself fully in. And what did it this time? Another half-marathon? Weights?

Shit, no. I handed my daughter a whistle lanyard and said "Look, honey, it's the color of your uniform!"

Wrench, crack. Real trouble.

The hilarious thing is: this is SO obviously stress-related. I turned down a job, hired someone new, agreed to move my office, started a second company (with a partner, which is scary)... it's almost embarrassing how transparent this all is.

Anyway: I still think these are good things, all. Just stressful.

Phases of Fatherhood.

I just posted on this dude's blog. Seems like a nice guy... he was writing about having his first kid, and how he felt that there were phases of fatherhood.

I left a comment... and thought: Heck, why not post it on my own site? Although I edited it for, like, the gazillion typos I did on his site. Apologies, Mr.

----------
Three phases? :-)

I think there are dozens. My oldest is 8, and I'm hitting about a Fatherhood Phase every few months.

I was talking to a childless friend of mine today... a mutual friend of ours experienced a setback with one of his kids... a condition that's somewhat serious. This guy (the one without kids) said: "Man, that's another reason to skip out on having kids."

I said: "Dude. I think the craziest and most wonderful thing about having kids is how it utterly broadens the depth and breath of human experience. The highs are SO much higher, the lows are SO much lower. SO much joy. SO much worry. It's like the bookshelf of potential just gets SO much wider."

It made sense to me, at least.

People are AMAZING.

Someone redid the ending of Se7en with PUPPETS.

People are just AWESOME.

Uptime.

I noticed that some changes I had made in my computer accounts hadn't taken effect... and THEN I realized that I hadn't restarted my computer in a couple weeks. That NEVER happens with Windows XP. OS 9 was just as bad as Windows, but I don't even use Classic anymore

Oops. I did it again.

Sick! I'm sick!

Stress has been keeping me from falling asleep, and an unusual combination of kids sickness and spousal nightmares have been keeping me sleeping all night. My wife woke me up at 4ish this morning yelling "RIIIICH!" She had a nightmare, and needed me to rescue her from it, she said. It occurred to her in her dream that she need to call to me so I could wake her up. Pretty amazing.

Suffice it to say, I'm now scratchy-throated and wobbly. But that's okay. I'll go to sleep early tonight, and try to be ready to rock tomorrow.

A pivotal day in my business life.

So I turned down a $120,000/year job today. Then I hired someone new. Then I signed up to move my company to bigger space. Then I started full-throttle towards opening a news, secondary business that I feel could be MUCH larger than my first. Very interesting.

So here we go again. My damn entrepreneurial spirit has me launching headfirst down an uncertain road that could lead to rags, riches, or a little of both.

Yeehah.

Declined. Oh, boy.

So, I've run the numbers, and I'm turning down the 6-figure gig. I realized that I probably make MORE doing a mediocre job for my own company, than I would doing a FABULOUS job for their company. And I will not do a mediocre job.

More later.

Fatherhood: The computer cycle is broken.

Normally, I sell my Big Computer on eBay sometime before the next generation of Big Computers come out. In this case, I was going to sell my Dual 2-Ghz G5 before the new G5s came out in a week or two. However, I gave my wife the money for kids to use for camp.

I am officially a grownup. It feels pretty neat.

Fatherhood: The third is the charm.

I think I got the balance right with my second child. It could be that she's my daughter, and I'm madly in love with her... but:

With the first child, it took me a while to get into the swing of things.
With the second, I was over the shock of being a parent, and was fairly ready to rock.
With the third, I was sort of swept up in the "group."

What I mean is, it's really important to focus on my youngest INDIVIDUALLY. It's so easy to simply include him, praise him along with the others, etc... but what I've got to do is give him more focused attention. Him-time. Only.

Battle of the options, or: six-figure conundrum.

I was just offered a six-figure position at a competitor. The thing is, in the end, I'm not sure I could make much more doing a fabulous job at their place than I could doing a good job at mine. It comes down to the math. I'm going to spend a lot of time with spreadsheets today, and figure this whole thing out.

This DEFINES a "luxury problem," though. You know?

Hypomania?

It’s been suggested that I’ve got the least common, and least-harmful variant of bipolar disorder, which is called (I think) hypomania. I get the ups, but my downs are pretty mild.

If that’s a disease, baby: I’ll TAKE it.