This morning, I could see downtown L.A. from about where I live. It looked pretty, all nestled against the backdrop of the hills. A friend of mine calls it the “Emerald City” on its good days. Today just happened to be good, the sky had a gentle swath of clouds that filtered the rising sun’s light, turning it into a rich orange glow.

So, with Starbucks in hand, I set out for a morning in the office. I know. It does not sound glamorous but it is necessary as a myriad of projects are either in progress or ready to be started. I think I will just try to organize today as my desk is beginning to look messy in a comic strip sort of way. As long as I have some caffeine and an anti-depressant, all is sort of right with the world.Oh well, at least I have job security. I mean, who the hell else would want to inherit my little kingdom?

SUPER BOWL…NOT!

A friend called me last night and asked who I thought would win the Super Bowl. I replied, “Who is playing?”After a stretch of silence, my friend yelled, “What kind of a man are you?” She went on to educate me that the teams playing were Carolina and New England. I told my friend that I didn’t even know that Carolina had a professional team. “When did that happen?” I asked.

What little I know of sports pretty much began and ended in childhood so anything that has occurred since then is news to me. Now, there are teams from all kinds of weird cities. And whatever happened to the Washington Senators?!I think I have a permanent block against sports because it evokes unhappy childhood memories. I was the scrawny kid who always got picked last and, even then, after much arguing and protestations by the respective team captains. Out in the filed, I would inevitably screw up which lead to someone walking over to me and punching me in the stomach or waiting until later in the day and banging my face into the drinking fountain when I went to get water. By kindergarten, I could read, spell and do all kinds of other things but I sucked at sports.

Smart and poor at sports is the worst combination of traits to possess as a child. It guarantees unpopularity.It’s funny how those bad experiences in childhood influence your likes and dislikes. It really is powerful. As an example, I recall how this one asshole teacher in high school (no, I’m not bitter) really turned me off from math. I mean, I do fine with the basic math and statistics and so forth. But, I think my experiences in high school kept me from wanting to pursue mathematics at a higher level which is unfortunate because I always had an interest in astronomy and the sciences.

I am not a regular listener to love songs on KOST radio but occasionally I will be flipping radio stations and will stop to listen to one of those rather sappy dedications where someone talks about how their wife/husband is so great and then the DJ plays some Kenny G song. Anyway, I was just wondering, do they allow same sex couples to dedicate love songs on the KOST? Do same sex couples want to dedicate songs on KOST? I am just curious.

As I was driving down 7th Street this morning, there was a homeless woman wandering down the middle of the street trying to flag down cars. It was a crazy site so early in the morning, all of these cars swerving hither and thither to avoid slamming into her. It leads me to ponder individual value within the greater human community.

In the present, this strange, skinny woman appears to be of little importance with no job, no home, etc. Whereas, ourselves, and those with whom we work, appear to possess greater importance or impact because of work, education, paying taxes and so forth. But, in the grand scheme of things, we all end up as inconsequential as this homeless woman currently appears. Time and our own mortality swiftly erases our importance in the here and now. At most of the companies where I have worked, there are always one or two old-timers who die during my employment tenure.

How strange it always seems to me that, after thirty years or more with the company, they are essentially gone and forgotten after three or four months. But, while alive, many of these same employees, especially those in higher positions, imagine themselves as of such great consequence to the firm that they will forever be remembered and immortalized for generations to come.

Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.

Human InteractionsVariant 1:

Quite taken with the quality of the sky following all of the rains, I decided to bring my digital camera with me to work and get in a few shots during my lunch break. I set off and snapped several shots around the downtown area, Pershing Square, The Gas Tower, The Bonaventure and then on to the Library Tower. Once I got over to the Library Tower, via the Citicorp Building, I ascended the Spanish Steps to the top and was taking a couple shots, trying to capture the buildings and backdrop of clouds and sky. As I was leaving to go back over to my building, I noted a security person eyeing me. As soon as I began to leave, he followed me, down the street, across the street and, finally, into my building. In the elevator lobby, he finally approached me.

Security: I saw you with the camera. Why were you taking pictures.

Me: I do it as a hobby and it seemed a nice day.

Security: Why were you taking pictures of the buildings?

Me: That’s the primary subject matter around here.

Security: Do you always take pictures of buildings?

Me: No.

Security: Are you a tenant here?

Me: Yes.

Security: What floor?

Me: 12th

Security: You aren’t supposed to take pictures of any of the buildings.

Me: Oh.

Security: Yeah. What floor did you say you worked?

Me: 12th. Do you want to come up with me?

Security: No, I just want to let you know that you can’t take pictures of the buildings.

Me: Uh huh.

He left and I caught an elevator on up. Jack booted thug.

Variant 2:

While at the Borders on Sunset & Vine, a young saleswoman approached me:

Saleswoman: Can I help you?

Me: Yes. Could you point me to where you keep the biographies?

Saleswoman: We don’t have a biography section.

Me: Hmm. Oh, so are biographies just kept in a general nonfiction area or something?

Saleswoman: Well, no. I mean, it depends on if the person is famous. Is this a famous person?I pondered this question. For what is the measure of fame? Could you be considered famous simply because someone wasted a bunch of time writing your biography?

Me: Well, I suppose, in certain circles, some people might think she is famous but that rather all depends. Why, is there a section where the famous biographies are kept? Perhaps I can go and browse.

Saleswoman: No, we don’t have a biography section.

[Long pause] Me: Thanks.

Saleswoman: Oh, you’re welcome.

I was waiting for a shuttle ride from 8th & Olive up to the Gas Tower. Olive was empty, dark and damp. Suddenly, a yellow school bus slowly came up the street. I lifted my head, expecting to see the animated faces of children. Instead, I saw grim, scraggily, bearded faces of homeless men staring vacantly out of the windows. After coming to a brief stop at Eighth, the bus rolled on into the dark. I wonder where they were headed. I could almost imagine them being spirits, riding the modern day equivalent of Charon's boat to the land of the dead.

FANTASIES

I was thinking about sexual fantasies this evening. And no, they do not involve diapers. In particular, I was considering the different types of fantasy. There are the obvious sexual ones, the ones filled with building tension with a final release. Then there are the fantasies that are not always clearly sexual in nature. Although, in a polymorphously perverse sort of way, there is always some sort of sexual element behind everything we think and feel. Fantasies of this type explore those thoughts we often hide, the desires and fears we try to repress or ignore. While they may be dark and frightening, they can also be full of the most incredible warmth, joy and escape. They allow for exploration of things that break the laws of reality and the chance to make possible that which seems impossible.

If Freud is correct that dreams are the royal road to the unconscious, perhaps these fantasies are side streets that run a rather circuitous route to the unconscious through some pleasant and not so pleasant neighborhoods.I was thinking about all of this because I often wonder which are more common, more important. If you experience more of one type over the other, what does that mean? For me, the fantasies that are less blatantly sexual seem to be more prevalent and of greater importance. I guess I shouldn’t say that they are altogether nonsexual, merely that they fulfill deeper emotional needs. Mine deal with a lot of my insecurities, intimacy issues, vulnerability, and trust.

Oh well, something to ponder.

I saw another house today. It was kind of nice. It sits on a hill, between a couple other houses. It has two bathrooms, one master bedroom, kitchen and laundry room and a spiral staircase joining the family and master bedroom. There are a lot of windows so it is very light. It does not have a carport or garage which is a drag. Hmm, I have to think about it. It has many good qualities but I am still not sure if it is THE ONE.

I saw the following CL post today:gwm diaperboy looking for roommate and friends The post went on to describe the “diaperboy scene”. He mentions that this is a “new” scene. Actually, it isn’t that new. Many senior citizens have been part of this scene for years!At least as his roommate, you wouldn’t have to worry about someone anxiously waiting to get in to use the bathroom. Personally, I don’t think I would care for that lifestyle. Boxers are the only way to go.

I went to do a little house hunting today. I found something for which I was ready to tender an offer. Unfortunately, I found out that a good portion of the unoccupied land around the house is not part of the property and, in fact, the egress from the house to the street is actually an easement. It really disappointed me in that I saw a lot of potential for this house. It is perched on a hill, very private and has a great view. Anyway, I suppose I should not dwell on this. It is time to just move on and continue the process. I will find something eventually.

A portion of today was also spent driving around with my brother and sister-in-law picking up various items to take on their trip to Nepal and Tibet. My sister-in-law’s son is doing a short stint over there as part of a medical rotation. My brother was buying some assorted candies and stuff to give her son and also as gifts to kids and others he meets up with there. So, each time we pondered the purchase of an item and my sister-in-law questioned the buy, we would reply, “It’s for the children of Nepal.” It sounds so Richard Gere. Anyhow, while the two of them are out gallivanting about the hinterlands of Nepal and Tibet, I get to visit their house and ensure plants are watered and the koi in the koi pond are fed. Somehow, my life just sounds a little less than exciting.

What a day. It felt like I worked non-stop for ten hours. Wait! I did! Sad to say it but my meal for the day consisted of a bottle of Coke and some almond cookies left over from the Chinese New Year festivities.I was telling one of my co-workers about not having eaten today and she said that I should have had some of the assorted nuts that were sitting on her desk. This lead to my observation that I could have fashioned myself a rather substantive meal simply by foraging through cubicles on the floor, gathering up snack foods, fruit, drinks and condiments left on people’s desks. I think it is an example of modern day hunter/gatherer behavior. It’s like being out on the Serengeti, except it’s air conditioned. Maybe this could be yet another defining characteristic of the new, trend setting Metrosexual.

Economics, Star Trek and Margaret Cho

Recently, I have been troubled by inconsistencies in Star Trek as it relates to issues of economics. Supposedly, in the late 23rd century, there is no need for money on Earth. So, I assume that no one gets pay of any sort while serving with Star Fleet. How people purchase items when on other worlds? On Deep Space 9, they had gambling. How did Earth folks gamble if they had no money? Do they just replicate it? Of course, if they did that, it would kind of be like counterfeiting. I’m just confused and upset. I need a futuristic Alan Greenspan to explain intergalactic macroeconomics to me. Sometimes Leonard Nimoy shows up at MOCA. Maybe if I see him there sometime I can ask him about this matter. I’m sure he will give me a good explanation…as the security guards drag me out the door.Anyhow, I was discussing this weighty issue at lunch with a co-worker and Star Trek fan. During our conversation, she mentioned that she had recently seen a Margaret Cho act in which she remarked that there was a definite correlation between being a Star Trek fan and having S&M fantasies. Hmm, I wonder….I had never really thought of Margaret Cho as being particularly perceptive. Maybe I was wrong.

I wonder if I am losing my hearing. I mean, nothing Beethoven, but just an ever so slight drop in overall aural discernment. I say this because I often find that as I am walking down the street and homeless folks ask me for money, I can’t understand them (perhaps I don’t want to understand them). I understand the intent of their message but the actual words seem difficult to decipher. Someone could be asking for spare change and it sounds like, “my dog’s got mange.” Anyway, it sounds kind of word to say to someone asking for change, “Excuse me, could you repeat that?” Maybe it isn’t me. Maybe this is a new problem for the homeless, lack of proper diction. I should do something about this. I can do sort of an Eliza Doolittle thing: The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plane, or perhaps, the rain on Main St. falls mainly on the L.A. River sewer drain. By Jove! I think she’s got it! Oh well, so much for my insensitivity for the day.

Actually, today was spent mainly giving a dog and pony show to some folks. A new form is being rolled out that is required to be filed for approval purposes before large capital projects can begin. All of us in the department are responsible for holding one or two of these small group discussions on how to fill it out, etc. It is pretty dry stuff and I tend to race through the material a bit (bad habit of mine). Although, I think some of the folks were grateful for the pace of the session. Why prolong the agony?My meeting was held offsite and when I left to go back up to downtown, the sky seemed to warm and blue and I just wanted to keep driving somewhere or nowhere. Right after the meeting, a few of us hung around a bit to clean up and so forth. This one guy was mentioning that he intends to marry in March. I recall someone else also declaring the intent to marry not so long ago. Sometimes I feel funny being 41 and single. Most people I run into who are younger than me are married or were married or in a long-term relationship of one type or another. I guess stuff like that always sort of serves to remind me that there is something wrong with me. Of course, I obtain some positive reinforcement from the envious gaze of those who have gone through bitter divorces. But all in all, to say I have avoided a “worst case” relationship is a rationalization that does little to warm the heart.

I have learned that my favorite drug, Celexa, is being replaced by a more effective form of the drug called Loprexa. As my psychiatrist explained, Celexa is a racimic compound so the molecules have s and r enantiomers in equal proportion. The s and r types refer to the behavior of the particles when it is exposed to polarized light, one reacts by moving to the left and the other goes right. Well, I sort of understand. Hmm, maybe I can find a brilliant young chemist to help me understand this better :)Anyway, they found that the r-enantiomer actually inhibits the very strong reuptake abilities of the s-enantiomer. So, Loprexa is kind of the new and improved, lemon scented version of Celexa. For now, I will stay with the Celexa but, sometime soon, I will probably start using the new stuff. I think they will be phasing out Celexa. I guess it means more serotonin sloshing around in my synaptic clefts and me all smiley and happy (well, maybe that's taking it a little too far).That was my once-every-three-months med-check visit. I did see a house today. It had some nice qualities. It has a view, very private and up in the hills but it is old and would require a lot of work. If only the price wasn't so high. I can swing the price but the payments will be so high that it would make it extremely difficult to afford the repairs and revamping. I guess the search will go on.

A Table For One

Broken people sit scattered like cheap toysthe day after Christmas.Deep and vacant eyes stare off at ghosts invisible to others.Always, there is the hint of hope that hangs before themlike a mirage before a dying man.Silly fantasies, of meeting and loving others,held like lottery tickets in a poor man's sweaty palm.No place for you.The words need not be spoken.The wrinkled faces, etched with discomfort, are enoughto make them all sit alone.Endlessly falling, the pain of impact no longer a concern,they seek only finality and an awakening from this disturbing dream.

Well, the day was spent sitting in my office and working on personnel evaluations. So, I sat around all day typing stuff about people and listening to The Psychedelic Furs, Cocteau Twins and The Sundays. Unfortunately, I will be back in the office tomorrow so that I can drill down on a bunch of account transactions that an external auditor has selected for testing. That should be real tedious and boring, perfect for a Sunday! Oh boy, I get one day out of a two day weekend! Who needs a personal life when you have a job.Tonight, I worked a bit on a poem that sort of came to me as a result of sitting in cafeterias and coffee houses by myself and seeing others alone. Of course, I always put that "the glass is half empty" spin on everything. So, here goes it:

It is another bad day in a line of bad days. The last two days, I have been leaving work feeling so beat, tired, frustrated and depressed. The workload has been getting to me and I am just getting sick of sitting in that cubicle for 10 hours a day, bringing work home and working on weekends. I wonder what the hell it is all for. Is it worth the permanent pain in my neck and shoulders, the stomach pain and the feeling that there is little or nothing in my personal life? I feel anger towards myself. I wonder what other direction I could have taken to improve things and whether it is too late for me.

Another fairly busy day in the realm of accounting. I have been handling it in stride but it does get tiresome. As usual, thoughts of where does this all lead fill my head. At times, I am almost jealous of those people who make work their life and seem unconcerned about other matters of life but then I realize those people are so unspeakably depressing.I have been trying to create a little photo website using my free space on AOL. I created a the site on Frontpage and then got the files uploaded to AOL but nothing works other than the stupid intro page (no frames, hyperlinks, etc.). I really am dumb. I'm just getting old and dumb.

Ok, ok, I'm updating!I can't help it that my life is kind of boring.Work has been keeping me pretty busy. It looks like the upcoming three day weekend will be a two day weekend. I think I will be in on Saturday to do personnel evaluations. Those are always difficult. How do I describe shortcomings with the right spin but without being honest and straight? It is not easy. It also doesn't help that staff people have a tendency to provide me with poorly written accomplishments. I often spend the majority of my time just rewriting and then trying to figure out the proper embellishments and fluff.A lot of the staff people don't realize how much I have helped them out by making them look their best in the final submittal of their accomplishments to our manager. Writing is so important but it is often ignored these days. It is such a pity.I think I can communicate better writing than conversing with someone. Maybe I should pretend I am mute and walk around with a laptop all day just writing everything.

Thoughts on Seeing a Beautiful Woman

Light is so much brighter when all is darknessand the sight of beauty so much more alluringwhen all is so plain. How close is being near?Floating in hazy, mindless blur and then to focus abruptlyonly to comprehend that that which appears before the eyeexists on the opposite side of the sea, on shoresthat will be forever alien. The mind operates alone and the storiesare born to create a smile from ghosts of reality.Why must I be drawn to a heaven whose gates are locked?If but one glance were meant for me,this silent heart would once more beat.If by chance, a lock of her angel’s hairglanced against my face,these cold, dead eyes would flow with tears.And when I die, if one day she should stroll across my grave,to know my place at death should lie beneath her feetgives me reason to live.But for now, the shadows deepen. And, as the last strainsof a digital player piano come to a close, an entire lifetime concludes in a handful of seconds.The dreamer awakensand the dark, curious corners of fantasy are made starkby the light of sobering reality.

I have started to write a little more poetry. It has been a while. So, please forgive me as the wheels of creativity are a tad rusty.I actually used to write a great deal of poetry and just stream of consciousness prose. As a teenager, one of my coping mechanisms was to write. I used to write a prodigious amount of word salad, both sides of many a notebook. So much of this has been lost often as a result of periods in which I would shred or burn past works. I guess it was too painful to recall that period. Well, not wanting to digress too much for now, I will simply present my poem. More will likely be on the way in future blogs.

Images associated with feelings:A plane covered in long, browned grass that goes on and on to a distant horizon. The sky is incredibly dark, much like it gets when a tornado is about ready to touch down. The only object is an old wood clothesline with sagging strings, the white paint old and peeled. There is a strange sound in the air, reminiscent of a whining airplane engine mixed with a strange ambient music sound. A flat plane that appears to stretch on forever, the sky a grey and colorless tone. The plane is void of anything.Absolute blackness with only a single, incredibly tiny dot of light. There is no up or down or any sense of direction. There is only falling.At 3 or 4 AM, in the Angeles National Forest, cold, silent, lying in the back of a car and staring through the window at stars in the sky (Cepheus or maybe Cassiopeia) after viewing with a telescope all night.Light from a full moon reflected back from salt flats with a blue luminescence.

Sick today. The alarm sounded this morning and I just couldn't make it. I decided to give up and sleep for a bit more and then determined a day at home was in order. Most of my day has been spent drinking a lot of water, breathing in steam and resting (i.e., sitting idle but feeling restless).I have determined one thing: daytime television was designed to motivate people to return to work. It is so depressing, especially all of the crap that they try to market to people all day long. It is the darkside of capitalism (where's the invisible hand when you need it!?). The only highpoint was a showing of Woody Allen's Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex. I guess I could have watched a DVD but I didn't feel like following a plot. I just wanted background noise.I guess I will shuffle off to work tomorrow and sniffle in my cubicle. I may risk a trip to the gym after work. I know I am still a tad ill but my body is feeling restless and edgy from not doing cardio. I am a little down tonight. I often find that, whenever a cold is clearing up, I feel a dip in mood. I'm sure there is some chemical explanation. Come to think of it, when is there not?

Came home a little early today as I am still sick from my cold. Crap, I work 10 hours a day everyday so I guess I shouldn't feel bad coming home sick for a couple of hours. Why do I, though? I feel like if I am not pushing, I will spiral down into the abyss (Ahab staring into the ocean perhaps).I'm feeling that low fever, spacey sensation which is kind of sad and also kind of hypnotic. Of course, part of that feeling may come from listening to Brian Eno's ambient music (Ambient 4 On Land) as well as Einsturzende Neubauten (at the suggestion of a friend).I wonder where I am going and where I will end up. Right now, I feel that angst (or maybe it is just the Entex kicking in). I just have a rough time trying to live the existential credo of taking responsibility for one's actions and creating one's own meaning. I guess I get weak and wish there was an answer book. There has to be something that I can grasp and learn from all of the millions of human and human precursors that struggled so hard over millions of years just so I could be here typing this message.

I am gulping down water and taking decongestants. I’m getting that light-headed feeling. I think it is just a head cold and nothing too serious. I generally only catch a cold once or twice a year. I probably caught it from one of the people at work. A lot of the people here have kids and babies and they get exposed to everything imaginable and bring it in to work like a latter day Typhoid Mary. Babies and kids are like living petri dishes (you can tell what a great parent I would make).

Observation:For some reason, when I begin to get sick, I get a heightened sexual response. That is, more heightened than usual. There must be similar nerve tracks within the body receiving stimulation concurrently in response to fighting an infectious agent. Although, it seems that the last thing one needs when feeling sick with a cold is a case of unintended tumescence. Maybe it is some primitive reaction of the body. It may think that we are on the brink of death and this is the last chance to change the fitness score from its current standing of zero. I can just imagine some sick and dying Australopithecus, climaxing with his last gasp, his mate already wandering off with the new alpha male. As I write, I am not sure of my point. It is just one of those many mysteries like egg-rolling, seasonal migration and non-dairy coffee creamer.

On the job with Eric!

Interviewing for new staff:
Me: So why are you interested in working at our company?
Would-be staff person: Well, my wife and I own a coin operated laundry. A big part of our cost is gas for the dryers. Because your rates have been going up, it is hurting our profits.
Me: Okay.

ROBOTS ARE PEOPLE TOO!I saw this post on Craigslist and thought it interesting:Robot friends - w4mw - 23 I want a friend who is into robots. I know nothing about robots, but I think they are very cool and I want to know more. I want to know more about computer things in general , geeky cool things that you can do to hack into other computers and how to build robots that can take over the world and things like that. However it would be good if you are also good with verbal communication because that is the kind of person I am. If not, don't worry, it's ok.-------------------------------------I decided to write back just to say that I thought it humorous.My initial e-mail:That was an awfully interesting and funny post.-E-------------------------------------Her response:(She responded here asking if I knew anything about robots or anything else that is interesting. Sorry, I didn’t keep the entire response.)-------------------------------------My 2nd e-mail:No, I don’t know too much about making robots. I do like the idea of having robots that will take over the world and that say things like, "Kill all humans!"As for whether I am interesting, that is up for debate and the source of considerable speculation. So, do you like robots like the Lost In Space type or cyborg, Terminator types?-------------------------------------Her 2nd response:I haven't seen lost in space and I certainly do not like terminator types. I'm thinking a very little cute robot that cleans and flys and maybe can take me flying. One guy emailed me back who build robots that excavate things like Titanic, that's ok as well. I want a singing dancing robot I think. ..yes...I want to go to a robot party too, that would be fun.It's ok, you don't have to be interesting, just interested. In things. That's what I am.-------------------------------------At this juncture, I decided not to respond anymore although I did want to mention to her that I have been to social gatherings where most of the people appeared to be robots. So, I am wondering about this person. Maybe she (or “It”?) is possibly a real robot trapped in some government lab and she has gained internet access and is attempting to find robot friendly types. I am her first human contact outside of the cold and uncaring lab technicians that poke at her all day. But, I don’t think I can help her. What kind of future can I have with a robot? How will we deal with the cultural differences? How will we raise our children? I’ll want to raise them Catholic and she will insist on ASCII unformatted. And then there are the in-laws, always dropping by and using up hard disk space, never defragging after themselves.

An observation:

It’s kind of weird when you walk into a restroom and one guy is holding a conversation with someone who is sitting in a stall. I realize LBJ set a precedent with this behavior but I do not see myself following in his footsteps.I may be catching a cold. I feel a little odd and some soreness in my throat. I guess it is time to start taking a lot of Sudafed, Vit. C and L-lysine. Crap, I hate getting sick, especially when I can’t take off from work.

Faux PasI made a stupid remark yesterday. A friend of mine called me and asked if I would be available the next day to meet her and help her pick out some picture frames to go with some photographs. I said that I had no plans and would be happy to get together “unless something else comes up in the interim”. I really didn’t stop to think about my comment. It just kind of came out of my mouth in an unthinking, wordy mass. She noticed it but didn’t really make a big deal of it (probably because she knows I’m socially retarded). She just made a little joke. Anyhow, I have been perseverating over this all night and see it as an example of my inability to deal effectively with people. I am not even aware of the bizarre or rude remarks I probably make to people, especially people that I really do like or care about. I sometimes think it is best that I am alone and perhaps the above illustrates one reason why I am alone.

Just came back from going to the L.A. County Museum to see the Sand Mandala. It was incredible. I can't believe that, in three and a half weeks, the monks were able to create something so detailed using sand. Layers of sand were used to create details on top of other background layers of sand. All of this done simply by using sand, no glue, no complicated tools and no room for errors. Also, the designs are not predrawn and filled with sand. The designs are done by the monks. Of course, the wildest thing about it is that tomorrow, all of this hard work will be swept away by the monks in a ceremony that, in part, illustrates the impermanence in life. I am really glad that I got to see it before it disappears tomorrow.On top of it, I had Hotcakes Alaska at Dupars so it was a nice way to spend a cold and breezy night.

Did some househunting today but am uncertain as to whether it is right for me. It is so expensive out there and it is easy to get depressed about finding something. I know that I will but it will take a little time.

MigraineIt actually started yesterday afternoon. It’s scary when you get visual auras while driving. Hmm…is that a visual anomaly or am I about to hit a three year old. Oh well, I didn’t hear a thump so I guess I’m okay. The pain is almost gone. In another eight or so hours it should subside.Tomorrow, I hope to do more house hunting. Apartment life is just getting too obnoxious. I know that I have been saying that for a while. This year, if I keep no other resolution, I resolve to get a place of my own and, not without some importance, quit paying the government over half of my paycheck in income tax.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

My friend Joanne saved me from a lonely New Years Eve. We went to the movies and finally had a chance to exchange Christmas gifts with one another. A couple of friends who live back in Virginia also called to wish me a Happy New Year. Actually, all of these people are those I used to work with at a certain aerospace firm here in the South Bay.It helped me last night.

Maybe part of it was staying up very late. That is actually a means of treating depression. Anyway, I don't have a large circle of friends, especially those to whom I feel particularly close. I take an absurdly long time to get to know. But, the few people who touch my life and allow me to unload the garbage in my head are people that I really do love and don't mind sacrificing anything for them. They are rare gems and I try not to take them for granted and, if ever I do, I hope they will remind me with a slap to the back of the head (another treatment for depression but with less proven results).

So, Happy New Year to the special people I call "friends".