Falling in Love

So when you fall in love, what changes? Hmmm, well lots of things, one for example you might find yourself getting more sex. Thats a good thing. You might find delight in the simple things again. Standing out on the beach staring at the ocean waves crashing in, or a funny TV show. Often without another these things feel lonely but when you are in love those moments are impossible to let go of. They just feel so good you can almost feel the ticking of the clock as time slips away. So many little insignificant moments become momentous. My god, I almost forgot the best one of all, laying in bed until late in the morning all tangled up with nothing but a damp sheet. Time I think is the one that changes the most though. When you are apart the time goes so much slower. So painfully slow it hurts. Each turning out of the light at night is lonely, and quiet. Aching. But when you get together, with a true love what happens? Time flys by so fast you can hardly find the time to eat, and poop in the same day. The hours whirl by, then darkness and evening shows up, and if its the last evening to see each other, the individual minutes take on a significance of their own that is hard to quantify. Sleep becomes a non issue, money is meaningless, its just time. Time...Want more time.
Alot changes when we fall in love. We start doing things that we forgot all about enjoying again. We find new things that we never would have done before. We pick up on the strengths of the other and make new decisions to conquer goals that have been on our lists. We might take Salsa dancing, or take an interest in Scuba, or Ballet. We hold hands. We coo and obsess 'till our friends cant stand it. What else happens? Something significant. How about heartache? Missing someone you have bonded with is suddenly a visceral feeling, something so very real and tangible that actually hurts. I think if you dont miss someone when they are gone you probably are not really in love. Heartache is definately a symptom of love. Try falling asleep without a double gin and tonic when your heart hurts, and is pounding in your chest. Try to sleep the night fully and wake up when you feel the ache of a love. Try to watch a sad movie and not cry. Hmmm, try to watch a sad comercial and not cry...I have failed that test. Ahem.
Seems the Chinese had it right when they show us the Ying and Yang signs. Seems that with all of the awesome feelings that go along with love, being in love and being loved, there is a flip side that hurts equally as much. I guess when we are not in a spectacular relationship, things go along pretty smoothly, assuming you are happy with yourself, emotions really dont run that high or low. Sure good times are always to be had, dating, going out to see and be seen. Comedy shows, adventures with friends, lots of great stuff with good times, but generally I think our emotions are pretty stable. Not so when we are in love is it? Seems that our stomachs kind of take over everything. Insecurities pop out of nowhere and being foreign to us, are hard to figure out. Why am I feeling like this, how can I stop it, how do I get back to my comfortable self? Worry can be overwhelming if your love is in trouble. Their problems become your problems and whether or not you can fix them you will feel their pain and will worry for them. Kinda seems like a raw deal really, I know its not, but who the hell would want to sign up for that? If we could write down our lives on paper, looking at all the problems and worries we have in our lives and then look at someone elses knowing that their problems, their failures, their pain, will be added to yours, who would join that club?
Seems that the good stuff, not just the sex, more than makes up for the bad stuff. The comfort, the passion, the peace of mind when we know we have someone who has our backs is more than enough to put up with their shit, idiosyncrasies and to take on their problems as our own. We love it. We all desire it, and even more so once we have felt it. But what can keep us from it once we have felt it? Heartbreak.
There are terrible pains in life that dont need to be written down here, we all know them. Pain, disease, loss are all part of life for us either now or later. Problems are absolutely going to happen to us, and that is ok. Your new car will for sure get a scratch. So just plan on it and when it happens, well its still a bad deal but it was expected. Same with life. We know that death and loss is inevitable. We cant predict it or control it in any way. So most of us ignore it until it hits. But Heartache is a pain that can be avoided. Once you have felt it, the pain that lasts for months and months you may be tempted to avoid any chance of it happening again. Fear may keep you from 'falling' in love again. I dont think that is hard to understand. I have felt it, hope to never feel it again and I have had and may have up again walls for protection. They are hard to let down. Fear creeps in. What if it happens again? Here is another insecurity that is hard to deal with. Being generally a confindent bunch, some of us exceptionally so, why would insecurity suddenly be so prominent in our lives. Well imagine your best friend just convinced you to try the Para glider behind a speedboat. Against your better judgement, you did put on ten pounds this year, you strap yourself in while your friends all hop in the boat. "Hit it!" you yell and off the boat screams. Not up you go, but down. Face first dragging along the water and filling up like a water balloon. The next day your friend says lets go do that again. Hmmm, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.
Avoiding love is understandable. Understandable but sad. Loving like we have never lost is part of enjoying every minute of life. Life is ticking away and you dont know for sure if you will make it through the day. If you get the oportunity to fall in love, really trust someone, let them in, share what is wrong with you, what you are afraid of, what makes you an individual and bask in the acceptance.

An older sister joins my family

Life is not fair. That is a very real statement and I cant think of how many times I have brought it out of my bags of useless things to say after I have seen a tragedy. Life is just not fair. How is it fair also that the guy who regularly begs for money on the corner of my freeway offramp wears Nike Air Jordans? I want a pair of those, but I think they cost around two hundred bucks. That is out of my league for play shoes, and I think I do alright. Life just is not fair. No one ever said it was and good thing because we would all throw tomatoes at him if he did. Sometimes bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. Karma, some say but I dont know if it exists. Seems that things happen one way or another, and how we deal with them is really what in turn becomes our perception of our life and its circumstances.
For example, your car does not start tomorrow morning. You have the kids in the car, work is forty minutes away, and you have thirty five minutes to get there after dropping off the kids. The battery is dead. What will you say I wonder? Maybe something like this perhaps; "Not NOW! Please not NOW!. C'mon start you f-ing, SOB, piece of....." So I ask you if not now, then when?
When exactly would have been the perfect time for the car to not start. Or for your tire to blow out. When would be the best time to have your two year old throw up on your new suit and somehow their own head and hair just as you are heading out the door. When? What if you could plan it, when would you fit that disaster in? Maybe on a saturday morning when you are on your way to meet your friends for golf? Hmmm, that would suck too. Maybe on your way to a date at eight pm in the evening after you have had a great day at work? That would suck alot too.
There are no good times for problems to hit, only good ways of dealing with them. These things happen to everyone, me, you and that really hot lady driving the BMW 745 over there. Yeah even her. Shit happens, and when it does, when life throws a minor disaster at us, its time to put the game face on, tell everyone around you that you have it under control and start dealing with the situation.
So that being said, what happens when my dog forgets about the 'deal' she and I have about NOT jumping up on my black car? I get mad. Of course, its natural. I even kinda explode a bit, seeing the three long scratches going down the drivers side door from her right front paw. The neighbors might hear a brief bellow, the dog of course cowers the kids are used to it and know they had nothing to do with it so they are safe. But I pull it together as quick as I can, realize that the car was not going to be perfect forever, a scratch was absolutely inevitable and start thinking of a way to fix it. Later not now. And then ways to keep myself from killing my dog. After all of that, I move on. It has now been three days, the scratches are still there, but I know how to remove them with a little work, and I will. As soon as I get to it that is. They are really small ya' know. Priorties have already changed.
So life is not always fair, but every once in a while something happens that changes your life in a good way, and you had nothing to do with it. Nothing you ever did, or ever will do could possibly explain something so good happening to you. For me it happened last night.
My dad had contacted me about a week ago and asked if he and I could meet for dinner sometime and talk. Hmmm, sure I said, but since he has never asked to meet me for anything I knew something was up. After a bit of calender checking I realized I could not accomodate him so soon, but quickly asked if everything was alright. Oh Sure he said, its all fine. Hmm, ok.
Last night I met him and his wife along with their great granddaughter to give me the birthday presents that were a couple of months late. No worries the wishes were right no time, just the presents were late. So we met and were enjoying drinks, good conversation as usual, and apetizers, when my dad says; " I have something I need to tell you" I looked up from my minestroni at his wife sitting across from me, and she raises her eyebrows just enough to make her words which came next really echo. "You might want another drink" She said. Uh oh.
I can tell you that I am good at one thing and that is taking bad news. No one takes his or her lumps better than me. When I have screwed up, I walk right up and take it right in the kisser, whatever it takes to let the other person, who presumably was right, that I screwed up. My mistake, My bad, I will take this one, and I am sorry. If I am going to get broken up with, which sadly seems to happen waaaaaay too often, I sit there like a man and take it. No blubbering, no tears....well most of the time. So right now I put on my game face, wondering what could merit this drama, when he says "You have a sister"
I am a thirty eight year old man, who has been an only child his whole life. I have always wanted a brother or sister to play with, to share emotions with, to conspire against my parents with, but at every Thanksgiving it was always just the three of us. Everytime we moved, which was about every two years I was the lone kid moving to a new school trying to fit in, and trying to keep from setting the school record for most wedgies by a new kid in one year. This was my life. Settle down, play with myself at home, and then move in a couple of years. All the way up to highschool I was in one school for freshman and sophmore years and another for Junior and senior. All I ever wanted was a sibling to share the quiet with, to help blend with anything but to be alone all the time.
So now it seems I have one. I have yet to meet her or even talk to her, although I want to very much. I already love her and we have not even spoken. I cant wait. I cant wait to hear her voice say, Hi this is your sister. My god I am a baby brother after thirty eight years! I am so excited I cant sit still. All I talked about at work today was her, all I talked about with my friends last night was her, and I could not even keep my mouth shut at the gym today talking with gym-friends. I kept telling the story. I am another persons brother.
If I take life and put down everything on paper, good and bad, and compare it to all of the people I know. Not to the rest of the world who would gladly suck their pet goldfish through a straw to change places with me, but rather the people I associate with. If I laid everything out, my financial debts, income, net worth, health, physical appearance, level of sucess, which is of course very relative, I would not look so great. I am a good solid "Good" in all of those categories, but not "Excellent" in any one of them. Yet when people talk to me, they think my life is the best one they have ever heard of. I think my life is the best one I could ever imagine. Would I like more money, yes I would, but would that help me enjoy my kids tomorrow more as I throw the frisbee? Or would it keep me from throwing the frisbee? My kids love me to death, the hug me so hard they choke me. What the hell else is there? This is life, and I love it. I absolutly expect problems. I know there will be a financial problem in my future, near or far I know for a fact it will happen. Dont know how much it will cost me, so god dammit I had better put some away right now to prepare for it. When it happens what will my level of stress be like I wonder? Will I say with my hands covering my face and pulling my hair "Oh God what am I going to do, why now?" Nope, I will grab my checkbook and write a check, unhappily for sure, but will after a little stomach ache, move on and go grab the frisbee again. What if it is my long term health, well that is tougher. The bigger the potential disaster the harder it is to prepare, so if that happens to me, I expect you to help. Yes you read that right.
Dryers breaks, kids get sick, people get laid off. Companies close and steal money. Shit will happen, but think about it first, realize that shit will happen and get ready for it if even its just emotionally.
So comparing my life to others is easy. I have some more things I would like to accomplish and yes there are some TV shows I like but most are self improvement goals. The paper comparison does not tell the whole story at all. Not even a little bit. I am genuinely happy with my lot in life because everyday I do something to try to improve it. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I dont. I have good days and bad ones but I am doing well.
So how does someones life get even better when every single night I go to bed thanking god for today, thanking god for my kids, my health, and just another day on this planet? How is it even fair that something great should happen to me? I feel a bit guilty that my last real desire in life has been met, I have a bigger family. I have a sister.
I cant wait to meet her. I love her already

Singles parties....and the people who attend. One was me...Shhhhh

There really appears to be a set of both men and women who thrive in the single activities like pigs thrive in mud. To drop them in the middle of a group of other singles is like haveing them airlifted to Mecca. The scripts come to the front of their heads so quickly it comes out as normal conversation. Each type of person they would meet would get a slightly different script from them. One may hear about their 'career' real or imagined, and another may hear about the Brazillian they just had done, and how much it hurt. The longer in the scene the more variations and subleties would grow. Scripts would include physical 'tics' as well. Everytime one script would work it would get added to the library for next time. Hair flips, pectoral flex, and casual looks over ones own shoulder to give that sexy profile a good show. The more they are used the easier it is to embellish on them and the longer they will hold someones attention. Maybe long enough to get that fourth drink in her. A casual hit/push on the chest with a laugh. A joke about her arms and how strong they look...hmmm let me feel. Yeah right.
Is there anything wrong with being good at this? Is there a reason to look down on this group of people who are especially good at flirting? Are they really a danger, or I am just singin' the blues because I suck at this? YES! They really are! The longer someone is in the dating pool 'looking' the better they get at the casual conversation of a singles crowd. The longer someone is in a relationship the more uncomfortable they are in the same environment. And who would be the better long term partner? Well who knows, that is your call, but as I find myself in these situations a bit more often, I still stay away as much as possible, I am noticing that I suck at all of this. Maybe I am just crying sour grapes, and possibly my self esteem needs to be raised. Yeah probably, but I am finding myself lagging way behind others that I have surpassed in other areas of life. Its not a win lose thing....well hell yeah it is a win lose thing. Damn it. In this environment confidence rules the day. Confindence is the T-Rex of emotions. Nothing is sexier than a super confident male or female. The strong look in the eyes, the fluid movements. Its like they have tattooed across their face the words 'You WILL like me'.
Those glancing around and inspecting shoe laces are going home alone and are having no free drinks.
Sort of like gambleing, which I suck at, the more you win the more you like it. The more you lose the less you like it. I lose on slots so consistantly that I really dont have any idea why anyone would ever want to play them. I can drop a fifty on the mat by the door and just leave and have about as much fun. I have lost so many times that it just seems dumb to play anymore. But I have many friends who love it. You probably love it. You have probably won too. Right? EIther play long enough that you break even and have a nice night, or have won a few bankrolls and are addicted to the chase. Playing the slots is a numbers thing. The more you play the more you will lose but the higher your chance of a big score. Singles bars and events are the same.
Some in dating are addicted to the chase. The singles bars, and events are like the Serengetti to a lion. Wide open plaines with unobstructed views of the prey. Normally the prey can run and hide. During work hours our game faces are on, we are alert in control and ready for battle. But at the bars the drinks weigh us down, loosen our grips on the gates that keep 'Those' types out and slip. The chase begins with a flirt, and then the scripts come out, the smiles get painted on and fun begins. Who will play who. Here everyone gets played. Guys for money, girls for sex. Duh! But who is playing for a relationship? If you find yourself there you, and everyone else are playing for something. Maybe you want to get free drinks or want the most numbers, or the number from the hottest person whoever it might be that night. Maybe its to get laid, and at times that might have its place. Whatever it is the odds are really good that whoever you bump into there is not playing for conversation for conversations sake. Just like in used cars, the saying goes "close 'em now because if they leave here you wont ever see them again." No such thing as a Be-Back ( as in " I will be back tomorrow) in used cars.
This all sounds like I hate the whole thing and I dont. Anything, no not just anything, everything in moderation. We should all join in the fun from time to time, but when you find you are getting good at it, ask yourself why you are getting so good at it. Are you afraid to give up the chase? Are you addicted to the small talk, the short term goals? Would it be wrong if you were, not necessarily its your life. I find however that when someone really wants a new partner and really wants to expand their chances of meeting him or her they are at a severe dissadvantage by being so out of practice. So here is the question, How do you get good at it without doing for a living?

My apology may be meaningless.

Oh the anger that we all oten feel when justice is not served up to our standards. There is every year a generic story about someone who destroys the lives of people, holes themself up in a motel somewhere, and then kills themself before the police can arrest them. Hmmm, what was the last one? Well that depends on what state you are in while you are reading this. But I bet you have had one this year. Try to remember. Now remember how you felt after you heard he or she 'got away'. Maybe nothing just waiting for the next song to come on, or the light to turn green, but I bet you did not feel happiness, or relief that the person was dead. Seems that is exactly what we should feel, the person might have raped, or killed or otherwise ruined someones life, maybe financially (Ken Lay?) and then got the ultimate reward, death. Game over. The only thing in our short lives that is absolutely not replaceable is life and they lost that, they are gone. Never to enjoy a breath again. But also never to face those who want to punish them. Why isnt that enough? This leads to another question; When is death not enough, and are we all just naturally vengefull?
People can make us feel things physically, well I suppose correctly said, we allow people to make us feel things physically. When someone says they are proud of us and means it, how do you feel? When someone says for the first time 'I love you' how do you feel? When you hear words like this you dont just breath them like air just to be expelled out in the next breath like vapor do you? No, its effect is physical. The feeling often lasts as you drive away in your car, maybe with the music blasting to keep up with your mood, maybe with nothing but the sound of the wind to savor the words. It lasts in your center, your stomach maybe, a feeling of happiness, peace, comfort. Its a great feeling that life is as it should be and everything is ok. I can walk away from my boss at times and feel this. Give me a little pat on the head and I know I have a job for another week, and I am happy, my woman tells me she is mine forever, that I am the best man she has ever met and I will glow for hours, and sometimes days.
With this ability, the ability to feel words and emotions and be able to hold on to them to savor, comes a down side too. People can hurt us with their words. Ouch. My same boss can ruin my weekend with a word and a raised eyebrow. A long time partner can do worse with less. Maybe even a sigh, or a look, but even so the communication has an effect. And it is palpable.
For some reason the creator of this universe decided that negative thoughts and words directed at you should hurt you in your stomach. Not a mental hurt, not a little discomfort to help you 'know' you have been hurt, but potentially a stomach-flu style stomach ache that can keep you immobile for days. Why the pain is not where we hear the words, see the person who is hurting us, and think about, sometimes endlessly in looping fashion e.g. in our heads, is beyond me. Seems much more convenient to me, but I was not consulted on that. There must be wisdom that allows us to get sick to our stomachs when partners break up with us, bosses fire us, and family members pass on without us. It hurts. It must be useful, but for what? This is where heartbreak lies. And I would trade the stomach flu for heartbreak any day of any week in my life. Its in our stomachs. Seinfeld did a great skit once and I think helps us all see what we do when disaster strikes. With a simple problem we will raise our hand to our chins and maybe rub it, when things go really bad, we cover our mouth with our hands, and when life has just fallen apart we cover our entire face, eyes, forehead everything. See, we are all the same. We all feel the same set of emotions. This is why Seinfeld can joke about it, why great poker players can win from it, and why con artists can make good livings from it. We are all built, except for those same con artists, virtually the same. Good words feel good, bad words, even though they are nothing more than air and vibrations that are quickly gone from the physical world, feel bad. To everyone.
I am one of those people who try to play by the rules. I try not to seek out revenge for those who wronged me, but I at the same time dont mind being exceptionally grumpy towards them. Life goes on and we cant win everything. So when I am wronged I make a choice depending on the extent of what was done to me as to whether or not I want that person in my life, as it stands, or not. If they wrecked my car, laughed and walked away I would probably not want them in my life, right? If they stole my girlfriend, then hell no. But no matter what was done, or how long ago it was done there is a door they can always walk through. Its the one I leave cracked open with the light on. But this one requires a key to get through. Its a heartfelt apology.
"I am so, so sorry" is all I need to hear to forgive. That is the rule. I may not trust this person, may not want them back where things were and may never be able to repair the relationship, but I will absolutely forgive them and move forward. When I screw up I will quickly throw up that white flag and hope they play by the same rules. Hope that I will be forgiven and not left behind.
Most everyone has read the blog about Rhonnie Propps a real woman who lives in Mineral Wells W. Virginia. Dont believe me, look her up, its ok with me. Probably not with her or her husband but she has brought dark clouds to her house before, and I expect will again. After she 'died' on the 25th of august, I kept the lines of communication, lets say open with her. I texted her and let her know that I had written the blog, that she was welcome to read it and share her thoughts, that she was a star and not well liked, and that I would like an apology. I told her that she had hurt quite a few very decent men, and changed their perspectives on women in the future. I told her her actions bordered on evil and I just wanted an apology. I sent these requests and notes off and on to her for the past three weeks. Hmm, I feel a bit stalker-like but I felt an apology would go a long way towards closing the door.
Sunday I recieved a very long nasty text back from the 'dead' saying quite a few nasty things, and that she would like to be left alone. Hmmm, no apology there. So far, her myspace accounts have all been shut down, her husband is furious at her, all of her contacts have called, texted and emailed her to ridicule her and now hundreds and hundreds of people have read about her, and I expect many hundreds more to come. So, in effect even after she 'killed' herself things got worse for her. Just like the criminal who commits suicide. But is that enough. Yes it should be, it really should and I and everyone else could easily move on, but oh wouldn't life be so much better if she said she was sorry? Wouldnt a heart felt apology feel so good? To know that she realized the error of her ways, changed because of the destruction she caused and said "I am sorry".
Well finally she did.
Funny thing though, since she is a compulsive liar, probably narcisistic there was no way to really get enjoyment out of the luke warm apology. The "If I hurt anyone I am sorry" line just did not feel as good as I had hoped. In fact even though I felt a lot of joy in bugging the shit out of her till she finally cracked and woke from the 'dead', I got very little from her apology.
I wonder if we would get any more closure if the criminal we spoke of was stopped before pulling the trigger and killing him or herself. If our family had been harmed I know that we want revenge, would want to see the suffering, and hopefully get closure from the words, but will it do anything at all? Dont we already have enough to move on with? Will these words really help? Apparently not. Not enough to justify the energy I 'wasted' chasing it down. Wouldn't I in this case have been better off just walking away? They say and I believe it is true, although tough to follow, that the best revenge is living a happy life. I see that now, and hope that I can remember it next time I go chasing an apology.

Families are perfect. (Ahem, Not)

We love our families for everything they offer us, their support, love, and mutual history. Family is for most of us, not all, everything that is important in the world and at the same time that which we spend the least amount of energy focusing on. The gift of life with them as opposed to life without them is temporary and probably if we look, taken for granted. The time we have with them while they are we are healthy is shorter than we expect because no one expects the unexpected. Tomorrows accident may involve someone you know, someone you love. Their flaws however are easy to focus on. A wonderful person who is loved by others, praised by many, who in your darkest hour would hold your hand, cry tears of compassion and give you a part of their own body can be reduced down to a few, or sometimes more, flaws that just rub us wrong. "Yes I love my brother but....". "My mom just drives me crazy" "My dad was not the most affectionate person in the world so I dont...". We all say these things. We then hang up the phone rush our kids to ballet, go grab a quarter pounder ("without cheese this time, trying to cut back, and make it a diet!") and worry about how we are going to pay our new Escalade payment, or worse still how we are going to go fill it up after the practice. "Damn! The new CSI is on tonight and I forgot my mom and dad are coming over for dinner!" Too bad I dont have Tivo. "Damn they bug the crap out of me, I so wish he/she would just..."
So the question is; If the most important people in the world to us are reduced to irritating flaws, how do we make the most of the time we have with them before they are gone?
At what point do we realize that our family members are just people? We have flaws, often we will say they are because of our parents, right? But our parents are no more flawed and are for reasons that started before even they were learning algebra. We wish so hard that they would just fix that, or say this, or just be more like this or that. You might hear yourself say; "I have given up on ever hearing..." But our pastor, professors, bosses, and friends are all deeply flawed on some level, many levels too. Odds are only their family has felt it, seen it up close enough to analyze. We are all messed up but we tend to spend time with the people who accept us the way we are, which can mean several things. It can mean they just live with our issues, or it can mean they are just very compatible with us in spite of our issues. Maybe a spouse has recently learned of a flaw in your charactor but loves you too much to think about ending things on that note alone but it does not mean you are perfect, no just loved and accepted. Our families however cannot be chosen, cherry picked. We get them the way they are even if their flaws are not compatible with ours, even if we or they cannot stand our issues. In life we can choose which person with which issue to love, with family its as random as 52 card pick-up. But who is most important? Our investment in energy should be directed at whom?
I have been told more than once that I was loved, that I was the best thing ever, and that I would be numero uno forever. I have heard " I will be your girl forever" more than just once, that I was the best man ever and we would be together forever, and yet not one of those people are in my life in any way more than a periphery role at all. Some I never hear from, and will never seen again. But through all of those comings and goings, all the perceived drama that shook me up so many times, my family was always there, with all of their 'flaws'. I would disappear investing energy and money in someone that later left and is investing their energy and money in someone else. But I can call one my family members right now, in between typing these words, or reading them, and tell them I need help, need support, need their energy, and I will get it if I really need it. Moreso if I have invested energy in that 'bank'. I can also tell them without fear of rejection that I love them and hear 'I love you too' back. Its a bond that transcends distance and time. "That is my brother, that is my son, that is my mother" Whatever the statement, even if its in hindsight through a loss. That was or is an important person to me, to us.
Each of us, for thousands of years have been trying to overcome the issues of our parents. Trying to compensate or change something in their behavior to get more out of life. Children living in stone houses under the rule of Caesar did the same thing. Their parents were just as, although different, 'screwed' up as ours are. They overcame the problems, or they didnt. They became parents themselves, like us, and tried to become someone better than their parents. Maybe even to marginalize them to keep their influence out, whatever. Our children, to some of us will seem screwed up, especially OTHER peoples children, but even to ourselves our kids can seem full of issues. Kids are people just like us and just like our parents and are feeling the same things towards you that you feel towards others. They want something they are not getting, not understanding something that is set in stone, not getting what is needed, just like us with our parents. If you feel like your parents on one side have issues and your kids on the other have issues its time to ask what of yourself....? Well if the shoe fits and I am sorry to break it to you, its snug! Its you. Or is it me? No its us. The question "what could I do better?" is a tough one to ask. It should be said quietly, while driving with the radio off for a few minutes of quiet to think without noise, or while sitting in the dark with your hands over your face wondering what has gone wrong. Maybe there is something we can do different, but maybe its just accepting flaws, overlooking them, smiling past them, and loving the person in spite of what seems broken.
My dad is a great man. He is well liked, respected by everyone who meets him, honest as the day is long, intelligent, well read and trustworthy. He is also handsome...Hmmm looks like me. smile. But he is flawed. He is not perfect and is not a perfect dad never has been and I am learning never will be. Who am I to judge though, am I perfect, no of course not. I just dont see all of my flaws yet, I can only see his, others.
Sometimes we foresee an event on the horizon that we hope might make the change we long for in another person. For me it was meeting my 'new' sister. It was a family get together with the newest family member.*
My dad and I, my sister and my dads' wife all decided to meet in AZ about a month after my sister found my dad, and then me, using a private investigator. She was adopted out years before I was born and was never mentioned. I had no idea there was a sister for me out there somewhere and the idea of my family getting larger was almost too much for me to handle. I loved the idea, loved it more than I love air while sitting at the bottom of the ocean. For me, it was familial love at first sight. I heard about her and loved her, would do anything to help her or her family. Instant change in my world, never to go back of my own accord. My world was different the moment I heard about her and although I did not want it any other way, it was also irreversable as far as I was concerned.
I grew up traveling as a Navy brat. We lived all over the place and rarely stayed anywhere longer than two, three or maybe four years. I was always the new kid in school, always trying to break into the groups and maybe you might remember me, as the one who was standing at the front of the class being introduced by the teacher as the 'new boy'. "Lets please make him feel welcome" the teacher would always say. The word welcome, to most of the bigger kids, was synonymous with 'wedgie' so that was what I got fairly regularly. Some of the kids who were not as bright thought it meant 'Swirly' so occasionally I got one of those too, but always corrected them afterwards.
I longed for a stable playmate, someone to share the moves with, the new schools with, and the quiet times at new homes with. Spreading my legos out on the new carpet of a house by myself always seemed a bit lonely. I made friends easily, became pretty good at it, and today I am who I am because of all of this, so since I like myself, I guess it all worked out, but now I see how close I was to having a sibling. An older sister. How close I was to having my dream come true and I found I have a bit of a bitter taste. Just a bit, most of my thoughts have been great and the opportunities as life continues with her are great, I do focus on them, but the what if's do surface and it takes mental effort not to make them my focus.
She was raised well, as well as anyone that is. Her father was successful, her mother was a bit of a drinker, who's wasn't, and she and her two adopted siblings both younger, a brother and a sister. They were all helped to be raised by their nanny who was just a great woman by all acounts. No one was perfect, but no one was terrible either. Just like everyone else. We all have good families, not all I suppose, but each have issues that vary in degree and condition. Comparing our two childhoods I expected on the surface when hearing about her, that if it were a contest I would win the "who had a better childhood" game. But if we put it all down on paper, and counted what each of us indivdually thought as most important, which does differ, I would say that hers was better. I never asked her what she would think, but I would expect she would say they were just different. Definately different. She wanted her dad, I wanted a big loving happy family. Its a tie.
So the big unanswered question left after she and I had spoken so many times on the phone after learning about each other was, how was He going to react. My dad, our dad. Well her biological father, not I would say technically her dad. The man who raised her, loved her her whole life and gave the best years to her is without a doubt the man who holds the honor of being called dad. But my dad is her biological father. What would he do? How was he going to react? I would mentally tally all of the 'faults' I knew about him, the way I was raised, the extreme lack of emotion brought into my world by him, and hoped beyond hope that having a second chance to right what was although not the worst choice, abortion I think here would have been the worst, still a hard choice, a choice with lifetime consequences. He made his choice and moved on but still he felt guilt for the action he took. Here is his chance to redeem this person, and settle the score. He knew how excited I was, and when asked, you always have to ask someone like him to get anything, would comment that he was very happy with all of this. Happy to hear that she is ok, that she was raised well, and happy to hear from her. Great I thought. What will happen when we put them together?
For me, the meeting was easy. There was no pressure at all. She and I just found out about each other, and clearly liked each other from all of our phone conversations and letters. Life could only go up from here. But for them this was sticky, complicated, and nerve rattleing. Each had, I suppose, different expectations of how this would play out. Each was hoping to come out of this with something that the other was not aware of. This is where things went wrong.
One of my dads biggest faults is his ability to communicate with emotions. This also shows up when he should be able to read another persons emotions and 'keep up' with the changes that are occuring. His emotions, are slow to change. Leave him alone in a chair with a book and he is happy as a clam in mud, tell him he made a mistake, he will apologize and try to correct it. Yell at him and he will finally bite back. But to see any of that coming ahead of time seems to be something he lacks, or maybe just doesnt care much to see. Its not the worst thing in the world, really, like I said he does not have a bad bone in his body, but it can be very frustrating when he misses what is the obvious to everyone else. Like laying a sign at his feet in 72pt Bold face type that says, I am sad and need a hug, suddenly he is dyslexic and reads it as a big happy face. Life is fine, go get something to eat, "want something?" He would add.
My sister came to this meeting with hopes. Probably not real clear hopes, this is a once in a lifetime experience after all, but hopes for sure. She hoped, maybe not expected, but hoped to hear that he was sorry, that he knew it was a mistake. That he would have taken it back if he could and had thought about it often. That life is better now with her back in his life. Hoped to hear that there was a solid reason why he had put her up for adoption. Maybe a hardship that could not be overcome, emotionally, financially, or anything really. This was not what she got.
It is his fault, but at the same time its the way he is, so hard to place blame. Hard to place blame on the one legged man for not keeping up in the race, hard to place blame on the blind woman for not following the well written directions. And its hard to place blame on a man who reads emotions as well as I read latin and then expect him to handle a very charged emotional situation with diplomatic sophisticaton. Its like a handicap. Where a soft blanket was needed, he would drop a brick and then stand back and admire how well it went.
He told her the reason he left her was just because he didnt want a baby, and that once she was gone, it closed the curtain. Did not think much about her after that, and never thought about finding her. Ouch. All that may have been true, but truth can be worded gentler. Should have been thought through better. Men do that. I bet you, if you are female, have heard of a man leaving a child and never returning, it happens. Men dont have the connection that women do to their newborn babies. That takes time. But does this make it right to say so to the daughter who flew to see you at your invitation. Hell no. How hard is it to, like in a game of chess think one move ahead? If I say 'this' then I would expect her to feel 'this'. Its not hard.
Although everyone got along well, and we all learned alot about each other, she never felt welcomed by him. Never felt 'good' about the experience. Felt some of the things he said out of 'honesty' were hurtful, stinging. This dissapointed me greatly. Here was the foreseen opportunity I saw that might change him. I saw it coming, knew emotions would be involved, hoped there would be a change that would be visible. Even hoped that maybe I would get some of the benefit, but there was nothing. I could not tell the difference between the way he treated her and the the way he treats a guest in his house. A guest he genuinly likes, but still a guest. Honestly he treated her like he has always treated me and that is not par for this course. Not even close. He dissapointed me, dissapointed her, and might have lost a great opportunity.
People are who they are. Family is who they are, flaws and all. They are just people. Nothing he did was intentional it was as natural as a fart. The actions he took were brewed back when he was young. My (our) grandparents are as much to blame as he is, and for that matter so are their parents and their parents. This is who he is, for better or for worse. He is a good man, who has flaws. This flaw is never seen by other, never shown to friends because they dont dig that deep, dont spend the time with him for them to emerge. Dont feel the emotions that could help to reveal them. People in general really like him, and rightly so. I see the flaws however up close, like the cracks in my broken glasses. They have always been there. Now another person, has been hurt by them, has seen them too. This is not just dissapointing its embarrasing. He just was not up to this task and it was dissapointing. I had hoped for more than was possible. However the door was opened, that is the good, life goes on and who knows what the future holds. They may never speak again, or one day they may finally hug like a father and daughter. Wouldnt that be beautiful?
We cannot change others, stop trying if you are. You wont change a key feature of your spouse, your child, your parents or your friends. They are who they are, and no amount of talking will change them. We can only change ourselves to help us be more comfortable around them. Give ourselves the ability to decide who we want in our lives and who we dont. But we have to change ouselves, that is in our power. Remember, we have flaws too. Others see them better than we do. Some accept them, and some dont. Those who dont are gone already. Family is worth more. They will be here till one or the other dies. Their flaws are what have made us who we are, they have given each of us advantages because of our ability to compensate for their flaws. I grew up to be who I am, independant, strong, full of integrity, and very tuned into others emotions because of him. My family gets more attention, by far, than they would had I been raised by another man. To them its a positive. My sister is smart, god she is smart, tough and independant. To her family, her gorgeous children they see her as great. To her family her traits are a postive. To my sister and I it was because of a flaw. I guess it all depends on where you start looking from.

Sex and Chocolate Thunder Cake

We all like sex. There really isn't a person alive that doesn't, no matter what they say. Models, presidents, single people, married people (harder to tell here), pretty people and people who look like troglodytes. Sex with another is not always necessary, although most would agree is the preferred method, but sex is what drives us. For men I think there is really nothing else besides the need for food and water, that makes more of our decisions for us than sex. Men make decisions on what clothes to wear, what cars to buy, what financial risks to take, how much debt to take on and what careers to aspire towards based on how much sex we will get when we get there. There is nothing wrong with this, it's the way we are all built, but it leads to the question; Who is in control, us or the Sex?

Sex is without a doubt as close to an illegal drug high as you can get without smoking, snorting or inhaling something. When we get it it is all consuming, incredibly single mindedly obsessive, but when we are without it we begin to feel the compounding, progressively increasing pull of it nagging on our brains. Each of us has a different threshold at which we start to pull our hair out, but it's there for all of us. When will I get it next, who will I get it/share it with next? Should I just take the edge off, do it myself and get on with my day? I am getting older and saggier and sex might be harder to get tomorrow so I should hurry up and get some tonight while I have the chance. Maybe I should get more sex now and that will be like putting it in the bank since I dont think I will be getting any for a while. I am fully endorse morning, noon and nighters, but it does not store for us like money. When its over it is back to Oprah and Dr Phil trying to explain to us how to be happy.

The comedy forty days and forty nights, made me wonder who was in control in my life. Was I the master of my domain or not? How long could I have control of myself and my life, how much clearer would I think without sex, how much more would I get done if I were to try like in the movie to not have any kind of sex for forty days and nights? Was it humanly possible without either becoming a monk by default, or damaging something, maybe irreversibly. It was just a movie, but it made me think. It really was a terrible idea, really bad, the lead charactor nearly goes insane, seeing hallucinations while trying to complete it …..But I decided to do it anyway. Think climbing Mt.Everest is tough? Now imagine everyone climbing the mountain has a heated slide right beside them the whole way up that would take them clear to the bottom where they would land softly in a warm swimming pool with women in bikinis and free margaritas. How many do you think would make it to the top? That is more like what this is like.

Stirring the pot is a good idea for all of us to do. If you know exactly what you are going to be doing everyday next week, and could with a pretty good measure tell someone who you will see, and where you will be each and every day, you are in a rut. Personally I like my rut, its like a blanket I come back to from time to time to lay in, sleep late in it, and stop thinking for a while while enjoying the peace of it. But then its time to stir the pot, add something new, add a new person, a new activity, a new thought. Call up a club and join it, look in the back of a local paper, no avoiding the freaky personals, and look for an invitation to join something new. Then suck up the fear and nerves and go. See what happens. Avoid the TV, and god damn it if you have a TV in your bedroom get rid of it, you will never get laid with it there. Change a little something and see what splashes in your life from the change.

My pastor says that sex should wait until marriage, but since I have no prospect of that on the horizon, and my horizon is a looooong ways off, I think this might be a bad idea, not that saving my soul is a bad idea, I just can no more imagine waiting years for sex than I can imagine what the boundary of space-time looks like or what a woman is thinking when mindlessly paging through an US or People magazine. It is just not something my small simple brain can wrap itself around. Since, and I realize this to be true, the man is the inferior gender maybe a woman could help shed light on this. But then again, I cant explain how to hook a stereo up to my HD TV to the rats living in my attic, and maybe its the same thing. Just more than I am supposed to know. Might throw off the killer male instincts or ruin some million year old genetic and evolutionary alteration designed to keep the species alive. I dont know. But forty days and nights with no sex of any kind? Hmmm. I wonder if it can be done.

Some say the more sex the better. Free love is not really gone it's just not promoted by long hair hippees on TV anymore. Others say the more partners the better. Some keep count, and some chant 'Variety is the spice of life' as a mantra. Is there anything wrong with this, well not necessarily the world is a big place and what makes someones day is really not any of our business. If they want to have three or four others join them on a Tuesday afternoon while their cats watch and video it all, who is to say this is bad? Shooting someone is bad, we can all agree on this. Selling drugs to kids, is bad, but quietly enjoying a kink behind closed doors? No, not necessarily bad. These actions might have an unwanted affects later which could be bad, but they might not either. They might continue forever, or might end quietly and grow into another addiction a healthy one, like video games, gossip magazines or daytime TV.

Am I having too much, or not enough sex to be normal? Was I, am I careful enough and should I stop having sex with this person for this reason or keep them around for a booty call once in a while? If I have sex with him will it make the relationship stronger or weaker? If I have sex with her, will she want to stay around or will she leave, like I want when I am done? Will he respect me in the morning? If only we could hear what is in the other persons head, we would never get naked, not ever with anyone. How do we know when its okay, when is too soon and when is too long? When is okay to share a kink with someone you care about? You might lose them to it, they might think you are a freak, or might enjoy it too.

The first, second and third dates can be tough to negotiate. If we get to a third date then there is something each is pursuing and that can be a good thing. But will having sex make the relationship, assuming that is the goal, stronger or ruin any chance of a future? Everybody wants it, hell it's the drug of choice, but it has effects and conscience thought should be applied to get the desired results. One valium is good….two is well, allot and maybe too much, but three, four or five is just not a good idea ever for all sorts of reasons. Will sex early on keep a guy longer, get a guy to come closer or doom the relationships future to fall like a homesick rock?

Put a piece of chocolate thunder cake in front of a dieter who has not lost a pound in weeks and you will have the same result as offering sex to a guy on the first date. After it's over there is nothing left except a messy mouth and dirty dishes. The sex is at that point no more of an issue than watching a good football game to the guy. It's an activity that needs a partner and if someone knocks on the door and asks, hey can you come out and play, he will say a forceful 'Hell Yeah!'. Again, is there anything wrong with this? No, as long as it's inline with your goals. What a woman becomes at that point is a toy and maybe the guy is too. She becomes a toy that needs to be taken out, pampered, wooed, played with, and entertained. A toy that needs attention and maybe affection to keep it running just like a Buzz Lightyear doll needs everready batteries. Keep the batteries charged and the toy keeps jumping into bed. Nice trick. But what is going on in the woman's head?

Maybe nothing more than in his, maybe that is the goal. Lots of fun, living life large and loud. Vegas baby everyday! But maybe there is the hope that this is all real, that this is the guy for her. That this life although fun is not real, and somehow there must be a way to turn the corner to something more 'normal'. Something nice that she could talk about with her mother and maybe something that might have staying power. Too late.

Getting a toy is easy. Getting a partner who ignores the other toys while keeping you in the middle of their tunnel vision is hard. Not hard you understand like digging forty postholes, or figuring out how Jennifer Anniston can be serious about marrying Vince Vaugn (Is that his name?). But hard like visiting other countries, trying new things and figuring out why republicans still like Bush. It takes time, patience and effort. In fact it's harder. Love is really a force that is out of our control. But needs a clean open mind to embrace. How can you be swept off of your feet when your ankles are on someone's shoulders?

Understanding a Blue day, our collective blue days

Pizza is by its very nature a good thing, and being such has been compared to some of the great things in life in jest. For example, 'Sex is like Pizza, even when its bad it's still pretty good'. Everyone likes pizza, but depending on the health to fat ratio that some of us keep a tally of, we don't all eat it as often as we might like, some never. But nonetheless you would be hard pressed to find someone who would say, especially with the endless varieties of choices, that 'No, I just don't like any pizza'. That being said there are better pizzas and worse pizzas aren't there? Being completely subjective it would be hard to say which is which, but thick, or thin crust, regular cheese, or specialty goat cheeses, meats, or vegetables or some combination of all of the above really doesn't much matter. Whichever one we bite into is going to be at least "Okay". Some will be of course fantastic. "Oh my god that is the best f-ing pizza I have ever eaten…Try this!" Others are kinda so-so. Cardboard crust might be a fitting description here, but even so the piece is always finished.
Some days are like the crusty cardboard pizza and others are the new specialty pizza. Some are so good we go to bed just as wiggly as a puppy. Maybe you got a promotion, or a raise. Maybe you got the answer you have been waiting for from that special someone you have had your eye on. Maybe for whatever reason, and there does not really need to be one, you just feel like everything is finally in place and safe. Nothing at all to worry about tonight and everything to look forward to tomorrow. This particular feeling might be the easiest to imagine off the top of your head right now, just think about how you would feel if you were already packed, work was not expecting you or needing you, all loose ends were tied up, and in the morning you were leaving for Cancun. Might be tough to sleep wouldn't it. Might feel a bit on the wiggly side. That is a great feeling.
But what about the days where something went wrong? These are the crusty pizza days, still better than being dead, I think. Still better than living in Kenya and having to protect your daily ration of rice and water with a rifle. Still better than a lot of things, definitely an eat-able slice of pizza, but not a great one. Right here we need to stop and evaluate what we are comparing here, throw out the burned pizza, and the ones with anchovies and oysters as just being the sorts of days that turn our lives upside down. Deaths, tragedy and losses of all sorts of types. This is not in the scope of this article and neither is winning the unimaginably horrid odds of the lotto, but rather all of the days that are as Dave Mathews says "In between". We live "in between".
If you think about your life you might be looking forward to the moments that are going to be good, or hopefully great, and dreading the ones you know are on the way, but really most, by far, of our lives are in this "in between" zone between the really good times and the really bad times. Sort of the Vanilla ice cream of foods. No flavor at all, just Okay. The question is, how do we get the most out of the times we are ignoring?
Time goes by faster the older we get, not sure how that works exactly, might be how the spider feels as it is spinning towards the center of the swirling water leading to the septic system (where it will inevitably crawl back out by the way and be pissed). Older folks say this all the time "Oh where has all the time gone?" and I have caught myself looking back on tremendously bad times and they really seem like just yesterday. I think some of us, are lucky enough to have the good times burned into our brains just as deeply but that is rare. Traumatic times are mile markers tattooed onto our brains that will never go away. Markers of time that we forget about for years, but when asked remember as clearly as yesterday. More clearly possibly. But what happened in between? What happened in those twenty years in between? For gods sake it is LIFE! Right now is a completely forgettable evening if you let it. If you watch the same show, or do the same thing, you may as well forget the day right now because you will not remember it later. If you eat a particularly good slice of pizza you might remember this day for that, but an average pizza is gone next week. "What did you do last week?" "Uhm….well I cant really remember. Guess it wasn't that great" "Haha". BAM Twenty years of those days are gone.
The only way to make life slow down, to really get more out of it is to remember more of it. Nothing we do matters a bit if we don't remember it. Nothing. Think about this. Here is an example. If some crazed Doctor abducts you, ties you up in a dark room and….if this is your fantasy then this example wont work for you so skip ahead. Then performs a practice surgery on you without the benefit of anesthetic leaving you near mad with agony and fear but being sophisticated enough to care for everything professionally. What would happen the next day? Well if it were all performed correctly you would heal but with tremendous emotional scars. What if however, this nutty Dr were to give you just the right dose of a drug that had an amnesiac effect making you forget the entire previous day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He again was careful enough not to leave any lasting external physical damage, would you care? You had just been through what would be sufficiently gory to make any teenager in any horror movie scream and have nightmares but you remember nothing of the event. Would you care? Did 'you' even experience it? You would never be able to look back on it and remember, and if no one were able to fill you in on the details (of which you did not know there were any), would the event matter at all?
I don't think I would volunteer for this type of surgery even if it saved me money but would it matter? Sure you have to experience the horror first hand up and personal, the knife cutting you open, muscle and tendons being pulled and ripped, blood being lost on the floor, but the next day it was as if you had done nothing that day at all. Your last memory being of watching Seinfeld the night before and giving your sweetheart a kiss goodnight. Would that be so bad? Memory is what makes us who we are, what gives a sense of completion, I believe, at the end of our lives and capturing memories is important to complete us.
Try this as an experiment. Ask yourself, as if it were me asking, what was the best part of your day today? Really. ………. Don't keep reading and blindly move past that. Put this down move your eyes away from the page for a moment and really come up with an answer. What was the best part of your day today?
You might ask, okay nothing really happened to me at all today, so the answer is nothing, but what was yours? Mine just happened. I got an unexpected call from someone I really care a lot about. This right now, is a moment I am actively trying to remember for later. This will make the week seem to last longer, make the day memorable later. This will slow down time. When someone asks, I will have an answer. I won't forget today. Until now, it would be a toss up, but I would have had an answer for you, it would have had to do with work. A minor victory was memorable, leading to a chance of more growth in my business. This is a good thing. The time I spent with my kids is always at the top of the list with all of the huggable moments but it is sort of cliché and I think cheats a bit. Too easy. Give me something else, we all know that is the best. But that is everyday and therefore all the good is, sorry to say, forgettable. All the hugs help to reduce your blood pressure, help to keep us sane, help to keep all things in perspective, but one leads to another and I cant say I remember one hug over another last month particularly so I think this does not count for what we are talking about. Time will go by too fast if we don't actively remember this day as being different from another. Drift out of 'it' after work, maybe hurry to watch 24, or another of your favorite shows just to go to bed right after and you are going to forget everything. Forty will come way faster than you want and become fifty before you know it if you don't start using your brain to capture the Now. The now thoughts, the now moments that we can remember are what will make our lives slow down. Doesn't that sound better? Slowing life down? Who wouldn't want a week to seem like a month? Who would not like to chuckle at the person who gravely says "My god, another year is gone" and think Geez this was an incredible year, so much happened. Between twenty and thirty forget about it, we are too stupid to know better so party it up. Thirty to forty I would say a lot of us are trying to figure ourselves out a bit, get a grip on life, become comfortable with who we are or at least fake it. But forty to fifty we begin to panic. Where has the time gone? What the hell have I done with my life?? What do I have to show for my time? Hmmm, good question. What have you done?
Have you loved? Been loved? Have you risked, and been hurt? Believe it or not even being hurt is memorable and later on will give a reference point for time. Have you tried a new activity that made you look stupid and had a good time? Have you gone somewhere interesting? Have you done something scary something that could change everything for you? What if five years ago, which would be….. uhm what year would that be? What if five years ago you had done one of these things, or several of them? What if you had been bored and instead of turning on the TV to what you knew would have been mildly entertaining either alone or with your significantly boring other, you grabbed a local newspaper and looked in the back to see what was there that you had never done that sounded freaky or fun. Maybe a dance class (no not gay), maybe Scuba lessons, or a flying lesson. Hell maybe just ONE flying lesson. Wouldn't that have been memorable? Have you sky dived? If the answer is yes, then right now you are taken back to that moment, to the whole learning experience as if it were yesterday….but it wasn't. It was years ago. At some point it will be ten years ago, then twenty. What will you do to keep that level of memories going? How will you stir the pot to keep you being YOU?
Have you ever taken the time to notice that a great morning and afternoon can be spoiled, completely ruined by bad news in the evening? That would not be fair at all if it weren't true in just the opposite way, but it is. A terrible day can be made out to be one of the best if it ends on some great news. Sometimes its how we end our days, whether we allow it or it is just happenstance that shapes our days. Good or bad, either can be memorable, but of course we want more good than bad don't we? But we are talking about the varying shades of grey in between. The mildly good and the sort of blue days. Start to end nothing much happened that was not part of our rut, but we sort of feel a bit better than average or a bit worse. This leads to the question, what do we do with ourselves when it's a blue day for no apparent reason?
When something rough happens to us, or we let ourselves blow something out of proportion (sorry but you will never see that until after the fact, the rest of us can though in real time) we get upset and rightly so. There is nothing wrong with being upset, angry or any of the other 'negative' emotions, nothing at all. These are what makes us us. Makes us human. Keep them, don't dismiss them or try to make them go away. You at the most should ask yourself if they are serving you well. Are they accomplishing what you want as a tool? Could they be modified, with effort of course, to get more out of each situation? Besides that emotions are normal, we all have them. Everyone regardless of their income (ten million a year to ten thousand) feels blue days, feels anger and resentment, jealousy, and wonder if things could be better. If it helps you at all, think that I have these same thoughts. You are normal. But what about when nothing particularly bad happens that you can put your finger on and still you feel, oh how should I put this….icky? A strange feeling in your tummy that says something is not right, I must have left the iron on, or I might have offended a loved one(when you really haven't). It's a feeling that just kind of makes you say to the question of how are you, "Ehh" with a shrug of your shoulders. First of all I suppose the good news is you will forget it next week, but the interesting thing is why you feel it at all.
Today I felt a blue day. The weather was great, business was good. I was not fired, and neither was I diagnosed with heart disease or Cancer. I drove all the way home in a car that did not need a flat repaired, and everything in my warm house filled with food and wine was just as I had left it. My dog in fact seemed oblivious to my feelings that something was just off a bit. I don't get it, she can supposedly detect an earthquake days before it occurs but she cant feel this? What is it, and what will make it go away?
I cant speak for you on this, I think we all need to develop a strategy, but for me a glass or two (not three or four)of wine, some music and if possible an hour to think or look at the sky helps a lot. None of this is magic where I suddenly feel like a million bucks but it often takes the edge off enough to enjoy the moment again, to put a good ending to a strange day. Good enough to call it memorable. There has been more than one evening that has ended this way where my finest moment, the one I spoke of the next day, that I still remember, happened alone, with the TV either off or muted, me on my deck looking up at the sky enjoying the clouds change colors as the sun set. Not every attempt is memorable but a few have been spectacular. And although I love Seinfeld, had I watched it instead I would have no memory at all of those days. Not one.

Work and our definition of ourself

While sitting in a comfortable booth at a Starbucks up in the Issaquah area of Washington, a fire just in front of my feet, and busy, helpful and courteous workers behind me mixing up coffees in near endless varieties of whooshing sounds, I start to look around. The crowd in here is different than others I visit. It does not take a rocket scientist to predict what type of person would visit a particular store just based on the surrounding demographics but still, its extremely different from what I am used to and odd. I feel out of place, and definately stand out. The last time I stood out this much, and then it was more extreme was when I made a bad choice to stop for fast food in Phoenix in an area I was unfamiliar with. A very, very bad area. I do not remember at all what I ate, or even if I finished, but remember clearly how good I felt when the door closed and locked. Whew.
This is just as odd, just not as scary. Around me right now, in front, beside and all along the windows are women. Women with sweats on to be more precise. Lots of hair up in pony tails, lots of loose sweat pants and shirts, and strollers. I should mention it is about eleven o'clock in the morning on a thursday and i am in a suit working on my laptop. Now clearly taking a break(yes smartass). There are kids running around like its a romper room and no one is flinching or blinking twice when a chair tips over or a 9 month old begins to scream. This is a living room i just realized and its a playdate. I am the only male and I was not invited.
I look at the women and am not at all looking down at them, just wondering what is going on in their heads. Again, its noble to stay home with the kids, a good thing, both for the kid in most situations, and for society, but I dont understand the mentality of the women here. Its not so much the fact that the 'Dont touch' mentality/rule that I keep for my kids when at a store is not in effect here, its not the noise that goes ungrimmaced. Its not the fact that the store employees are picking up stuff that the kids drop, only to hear a very distant "Im Sorry" from an unattentive parent across the room. Its just a wonder about life that is so different from mine. Its not that mine is better, I will joke about theirs because its different, but I really dont see how they keep their sanity. How is it that one woman can do this and another could not in a million years imagine this life? How is it that I can love my kids as much as I do, spend as much time with them as I do, and not imagine for one second not having a career to keep me stimulated, stressed and excited.
The world I walked into there at that Starbucks was different than mine. These were women who could A. afford to stay home all day and meet friends for coffee, and B. wanted to. Again, there is nothing at all, not one thing wrong with this, but how do they do it? I think this leads me to a question, and I might not like the answer; Who defines our life, and by what definition do we define our own?
When I meet someone they inevidently ask me what I do at some point. Some sooner than others, especially if they are more interested in my wallet than my abilities with a BBQ. I always answer, and since I am proud to do what I do, I feel good about it. But why? When someone asks me "What do you do?" why is the answer immediately about work, and not something like, well I like to Rollerblade, salsa dance, jog with my dog and go out with friends for happy hours downtown. That is what I like to do, but my answer is never that, nor is anyone elses. The answer is about my work. It has become what defines me to me. That scares me a bit and even though I will probably never lose this job, it is my chosen career, if I did, what would I think of myself? Would I think less of myself, even though my closest friends would not? Would you think less of yourself were you to lose your great job?
When I imagine what it would be like to lose my job, and be asked "what do you do" while in between this job and the next, I cringe. I am truely proud to do what I do, and would be embarrased to not have it anymore. That scares me. My view of myself should be based on my charactor, my creativity, my attention to my family etc. Not my work first then all of the above later. But the longer the Title on your business card (if you even have them) the more important it is to you it seems. Those who get along fine without all the desires for upward mobility seem to put less pressure on themselves and I think might be ultimately more happy. A title is not who we are. But to society it matters a lot. More than it should.
I have been trying to for the last few months to not, when I meet someone new, ask them what they do. I dont want to know. I dont want that conversation to come up until i get to decide whether or not i even like them on face value. Sometimes he/she will ask first then i am stuck, but sometimes they dont. I think sometimes the other person does not want to play that game either and appreciates the lack of pressure. What if my job is better than theirs (seemingly to them) then how will that affect our ability to become friends? Or vice-versa. We should establish a friendship based on charactor not on who has the better job, fatter wallet, or bigger penis. Ok maybe that last one we should keep. That is clearly important! Just a thought.

Dating The Cheese Girl. Is this you?

I am going to start this thought with an assumption. That assumption being that you have shoes in your closet right now, lots of them. Probably a pair or ten that have not smelled the fresh air of the outdoors in months, some years. A fetish some might call it, a passion others…some might not even go that far and would just say they like them. "I just like shoes". Others might not like the shoes so much as the shopping for the shoes. This, I don't understand, but neither do I understand what is going on in a woman's head when she is watching Entertainment Tonight. It's not really a problem I just don't 'get it'.

I suppose that is not entirely true, I have been instructed that women are information gatherers built very much like radar dishes but with boobs. The boobs I like. The rest to me seems like a waste of space and energy. Why it is important to know so many details about so many people is just not something a hetero man can really 'get'. I think those of us who try to understand at least understand, that there is a need there driving women to this, but what 'it' is just baffles us. It's just not for us to know. The universe can safely continue its' operation without our brains ever comprehending these thoughts by placing men on a "Need to know" basis. We don't need to know, because you women will do it one way or the other, regardless of what we understand or 'get'. You just don't really need us for this, in fact like dragging a midget along on a marathon, we would only slow you down.

What happens though when your closet is full of shoes? If you were to leave the closet alone, not add to it for some time, the ones you wear would get worn and the ones you don't would get what…. Dusty. Right. You would want, I assume, at some point to go get some new ones. Like I said some of you would even go further and get new ones when you have new ones, maybe even new ones you have not worn yet. This is close to criminal in my mind. But I know you are out there, in fact I might know one of these offenders. But after you have worn them all several times you can look in the closet and just see nothing of interest. Sigh. You will begin to feel the urge to update the population in this closet and add to the gene pool, right? Wearing the same ones gets old, no feeling of newness. No excitement. Just going round and round with the same bits of colorful leather.

What happens though when you are trying to date in a city and seem to have dated every eligible person of the opposite sex and found none favorable? Is it even possible to date an entire city of men, or women? If you were to do this, would you start the cycle again or just find a ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />new city? You can't very well, like your closet, just add to the gene pool. Populations in cities do vary, but without an incoming list you won't know where they are settling would you? Of course this seems impossible but I would like to tell you the story of The Cheese Girl.

During the last summer I was, as is normal for me, single and although I don't mind at all being single, I do like to stir the pot with new experiences from time to time. Last year the list included learning to Salsa dance (need more lessons), learning to golf (need many more lessons) and learning to rollerblade. This year learning to Scuba dive is on my list and taking a flying lesson too. Might not get to the goals but they are there anyway. It's just the way I think.

I got a call from Gordon a big friend of mine, "Five foot sixteen" he says, telling me there was a singles event going on at the downtown Nordstrom. Apparently Nordstrom was hosting this event to raise money for a great cause and were kind enough to close the entire store, all four floors, decorate the place, and place event stages on every floor with cocktail booths next to them. Free cocktails and hors d'oeuvres everywhere you looked and of course…single people. Lots of them and to my surprise, I suppose it shouldn't be living in Seattle, a large contingent of gays turned out too to really liven up the party. Boy did they ever. I experienced colors I did not know existed much less had names for.

The party began and really turned into a pretty nice affair. Nice assortment of people hitting on one another and me feeling just as out of place as llama in a swimming pool. That was okay, that was in fact the exact reason I went, to make myself uncomfortable and experience it. Get through the night so I can say I have done it, and who could say, maybe I would meet someone that night. Stranger things have happened.

Gordon had left my side earlier, as he had found a group of giants to talk to, and I was left by myself wandering around with a half finished glass of Merlot. I ended up by the main stage to watch the auction and near the end I noticed a tall girl standing next to me on my left. Hmm, I wondered, I wonder what she wants. Let it be known now that I am not nearly as smart as I look, okay?

It is right here I need to stop this story and take you back in time about four years or so to a date I had on Match.com. If you have not read about some of the others I think they are still posted on my blog somewhere, if not, I can re-post them. The worst ones turned into pretty good stories and who knows you or one of your friends might be on there somewhere. Anyway, I met this one particular woman at a fairly nice restaurant for dinner. This was before I figured out that meeting for a first date was something that not only was I expected to pay for, but if I did not want to be eating Top Ramen myself for the rest of the month, would have to keep it to just drinks and maybe an appetizer. Endless dating and dinners in Seattle could break any bank account regardless of its size. So there I was sitting with this nice, but very thin woman and I was both making small talk, which was not unpleasant, and also showing her the menu to order an appetizer to go with our wine.

She early on tells me that she has to admit to being very picky with her choice of foods. "Okay" I said, what wont you eat, as I look at this fairly gourmet menu. Several minutes went by as I stared at her while she rattled off all of the major food groups she wont eat leaving only, and I mean only a few types of fruits and vegetables, some pasta, and salads. She could honestly say nearly every food she would eat faster than trying to say the ones she won't. Of the salads only some would do and most of those that she considered edible were either plain Iceberg lettuce salads or those with generic dressings and no toppings. Uhm...Okay. I glanced back at the menu and realized we were both in trouble. Crab cakes included several things that she would not eat, mainly the crab, but even had that been another food that she would have partaken in, most of the fillers and spices were off the list so that was out. Artichoke dip…please, no. Not even close. Uhm no teriyaki tid-bits, because well they are made of meat and no meat of any kind was something that would pass her lips. I had not thought of this at the time but that clearly would have been a problem had we become a couple later on. So this left me with what I thought was my only option. Nachos. I hated to even offer them not wanting to sound both cheap and low-brow but hey I was out of options and the conversation was slowing quickly. I was getting nervous, we needed food to keep this going and so far there was nothing even ordered.

So I peek up over the menu that she has already put down in disgust and I suggest nachos. Hell everyone likes nachos right? Not everything on a normal order of Nachos is to everyone's liking but those can be either requested off or picked off right? So I say "how about Nachos?" And she sneers her most pleasant sneer and says no I don't eat Melted cheese. My face sort of got that scrunched up look you get when you are utterly baffled and are about to get run over by a 1914 Ford pickup truck, with 325,000 miles on it, driven by your dead grandfather in your own backyard. HUH!?? Shit, she does not like melted cheese, I said to myself. I think time began to slow down as I began to panic. My thoughts were racing, the last one only took a nanosecond and the next one, although I am sure would have moved quickly, was not even at the starting line. I did not know what to do or say to that. I was stumped. You don't eat melted cheese? Really? No melted cheese of any kind, and that is along with no meats, no virtually no vegetables, and no fruits. DAMN, how you stay vertical?

Okay I thought, I can save this. So I looked up with my best poker face and said what was going to be my Hail Mary pass to the end zone with two seconds left on the clock. Try to pull out a victory against all odds. I said "Well we could let the cheese get cold, then it will be hard again."

Silence.

Without so much as batting an eye, maybe out of weakness, she looks up and says "No, once it has been melted it is ruined." At that moment most of the corpses in Ethiopia were turning over in their graves simultaneously, causing who knows how much damage to that poor country.

Check Please!

Get me the hell out of here I thought, how can this be? What restaurant in Hell does she visit that would serve the food that she would consider edible, and who in their right mind would pay money for it? NONE! That's how many exist here in Seattle, NONE! This was over.

I should say this in her defense, she was nice and the conversation was not at all terrible. It just was not working out.

Now, let me bring you back to the woman standing next to me at the Nordstrom singles event. I say hi, asked a question (I have no idea what it was or whether it was funny or not), and we got to talking. Turned out she worked in my field, and knew some of the same people and even thought she might have met me or seen me at a convention sometime. "Very possible" I said because I often stand out in front of the booth at our yearly conventions and say hi to people walking around, and of course notice the prettier ones.
I hand her my card and she writes her number on it and after some more pleasantries, I am ready to find Gordon to say goodbye. We drove separately so I would be leaving alone, and he was still with the giant people, so I found him shook his hand and left.

A couple of weeks later I decide to give this woman a call and ask her out and I did just that. We met downtown at a nice place in Bel-Town and ordered some wine and began chatting it up. Shop talk mostly. Work, who do you know, who do I know etc. Not bad all in all.

I ordered some chips and hummus to snack on and asked if she was hungry and she said no not really but would snack on the chips. Okay no problem. After the hummus was gone I ordered some very nicely prepared fish which she wanted nothing to do with and was about to order something else for us, a dish with melted cheese on top when she stopped me and turned my blood to ice. She said "I don't eat melted cheese"

Oh dear God, no! It can't be. I looked up, slapped my hand on the table and nearly exploded. "We have been out before!!"

She did not get it. The words seemed to freeze her face and body, maybe her grandfather was about to run her over in her back yard at that moment I don't know, but she just sat there on my left and stared. "Remember way back, that restaurant, I ordered Nachos?" I said some more things to jog her nutrition starved mind and it hit her. "You are the 'name of the restaurant' Guy!" I won't name the restaurant because I hope to visit it again. "Yes I am, and we have been out before". I was not sure that having a 'name' was a good thing, but so did she, so it was even. "Yes, and you are The Cheese girl".

I was out with the Cheese girl and had no idea that it was her until she said that now famous phrase "I don't eat melted cheese". I had apparently dated the entire city of Seattle, and had begun all over again, with one of my earliest rejections. What are the odds of that I wondered, after paying the bill, giving a polite hug and heading out. I wondered again, what are the odds of that?

Are you faking it? You know what I am talking about

There have been times where I have been traveling either abroad or within the country but to a small town located in the middle of what seems to me to be nowhere and I come across people who seem to me to be moving slower than myself. Seem simpler somehow. I completely recognize that this is an arrogant statement but still I think about it. I see them smile and laugh and move through their days like anyone else, I see their faces, their glasses, their beards and they seem to look just like anyone I would know from the city, except for the fact that they are moving at a snails pace, seem unaware of the bigger world.
I was in a small town in Ohio a while back and toured a manufacturing plant there. The manufacturing process was amazing. People actually making with their hands parts, and components needed to put together what it was that they were making. Some people would spend the entire day polishing buckets of bolts to a high shine, one after the other. Over and over. Others would push large pieces of metal through machines that would 'paint' them with a powder coating. The pieces would travel along a system of wires and pulleys hanging much like the meat did in the cooler of the first Rocky movie. They were endless, really endless. There was no end to the pieces. No way to say "I am done or close to done", ever! They just kept coming. Others would sharpen instruments with grinding wheels. On one side would be a box full of hundreds of dull instruments and on the other side a box with maybe five finished ones. One woman was bent over the grinding wheel working with two people on either side doing the same thing wearing a large plastic visor with a small desk lamp illuminating what it was she was doing. She could not talk to anyone because of the noise and the visors, she could not see anything other than the wheel, and she could not move out of her seat. How many had she done today, this week, or this month? My god, how many had she done in the last year, and worst of all how many will she do tomorrow? How does she get up in the morning? What makes her smile?
Later that afternoon I was privileged to be taken into town for dinner. It was Andy Griffith's Mayberry but in full color. Wow. I was just amazed with what I saw and how my head kept twisting from side to side as I saw things and peoples activities that kept surprising me. Not a thing wrong with anything I saw there at all. Good people who were living their lives, just living them differently. Just different enough to make me feel funny as I gawked. I realize now that I should be honest and need to take back the first statement about there being nothing wrong. There was something wrong, very wrong, but the scale of the problem was beyond anything I could imagine fixing so I left it alone tried to ignore it. It was the mullets. Guys and gals, kids and grannies, mullets of all shapes, sizes and colors were on display and most amazingly was that each of them seemed to have no problem getting laid. They were not out of style there yet.
As I sat in the lounge waiting with my colleagues for our table, I began looking more closely around me at the people. Outside the window were people walking around wearing sweat shirts with a high school mascot and name on them. Lots of them. I looked inside the restaurant and sure enough there was another. No where did I see an Ohio State sweatshirt or any of the nearby rivals, but rather high school sweatshirts only. If it weren't for me noticing this I would not have made sense of what the two men behind me were talking about. One of them was talking about the game on Saturday and who all was going. The other who was also about forty, was saying that he and his wife would be there early for this activity or for that one.
These were grown men and women who were going to see a high school football game on Saturday night and were excited about it, not for the fact that their kids necessarily were playing in it but rather because that is what they wanted to do that night. Apparently lots of people wanted to too.
Would it be possible for me to be dropped into this town and find happiness in it? Could I make peace with the fact that the highlight of my week would be the big game on Saturday night? That that would be the place I took my date, yikes, my first dates? Would I be able to slow down enough to find that peaceful and not hellishly slow? And most importantly how is it that they are perfectly at ease with it? Would I be happier living at that speed if I did not know any differently? Are they happier?
Most days, far and away most days, I am upbeat and happy to be simply doing what it is I am doing, whatever it might be. Might be just the routine of work, or picking up my kids. Might be my time at the gym or sitting down and writing to get a thought out of my head. A lot of my writings in fact come from simple thoughts that stick just like this one. Usually they are associated with some emotion that has me confused, at a loss for some reason. I might just have a feeling in my stomach that I can't figure out. Why am I feeling this way? What is it that has me bothered? When I feel unusually happy, again for no apparent reason I just go with it, feels good so don't mess with a good thing, after all life is pretty damn good if we are looking at the good parts. But when it is a bad feeling I try to get to the bottom of it before I go drink it away.
We all get down don't we? It happens to everyone, sometimes for a great reason that is obvious, sometimes for reasons like I am talking about now, kinda obscure ones. But we all try to put on a game face and go out and smile don't we? Go about and try look happy. Couples are the worst aren't they? The talk days after a break up is often about how no one can believe that they are breaking up, they looked so happy together. They seemed like such a great couple with everything going for them. This leads me to the question; are we all faking it? Are those in the small town faking it, or are the complexities of city life making it harder to be real, to be really happy?
There is an old expression that I think about often because I think it is so useful in so many situations and it simply goes like this. Fake it till' you make it. Yeah, that is my mantra for just about everything. Fake it till' you make it. If I am working on something new and maybe a bit out of my league I will act the part of someone who is good and confident at it until I get the hang of it. If I am depressed I will try to put on a happy face and more often than not by reaching out with a smile, someone else will actually bring me closer to happiness by returning it. Maybe starting up what might seem like a pointless conversation with someone I don't really want to talk with, but doing it with a smile actually tricks my body into thinking that I am feeling better. It's a tool that I pull out to try to improve what is otherwise a "blue day". Often it works, sometimes it doesn't but either way I am honing the tool and trying to improve it for next time when I need to pull it out. However a friend of mine who was feeling very depressed about things in general was surprised to learn that I ever felt down, and I was surprised that she was surprised. "Of course I get down, I am not happy with everything in my life" I said. And she was so sure I was wrong, maybe that I was lying that she challenged me on it and said "Name one thing". She was so sure that some people like me apparently were blessed with happy lives there must be others, like her I guess who were cursed with unhappy ones.
Gee, just one? I thought. Where do I start? There are so many things I am not happy about, so many things that keep me depressed if I dwell on them, from where I am at financially, to lost loves and singlehood, my skinny legs, to the spots on my bedroom carpet. In between each of those is a whole host of other things but I needed to focus now to make a point for her. So I started with simple things that I felt I needed to work on. The outside of my house is not nice. The inside however is very comfortable. The outside, I am sure makes most of my neighbors want to firebomb the place to get rid of it. All of their property values would instantly jump if my house was burned tomorrow even if they left the charred ruins in its place, and I sure that they all know it. I am embarrassed of the outside of my house. There, now it is out there.
Financially, well I am doing fine by just about all standards but I have done better, which means that I am living below where I used to. That kind of sucks. I have seen my business doing better and am now working very hard to get it back up there, but right now I am embarrassed by my business and the level of success I am having there. I don't like to talk about it because it makes me feel worse.
My dog is the culprit for several of the reoccurring spots, several I will take credit for too but the ones that keep coming back in different places are hers. I don't really get it why she does this but when she eats she grabs a mouthful of dry food and walks somewhere else in the house to eat it. Not always where I am at, sometimes just to the dark hallway. Other times late at night walking from the kitchen all the way down the hallway, to my bedroom where she drops a mouthful of now well moistened kernels of Science Diet onto the floor and eats them up a few at a time. There are always spots left after this and I am helpless to do anything about it. I still prefer this even with the leftover spots to the hallway, which I mentioned is often dark, because she at times misses a few of those kernels. There is nothing quite like running through the house to get the phone or the door and stepping on a "DAMMIT" late at night. I am guessing that visiting Tahiti and being forced to walk on hot coals would hurt less. As far as the spots that I am embarrassed about and what to do about them I am still at a loss. I am a man not a terrible housekeeper but not a great one either, so they stay there for quite a while. Its a constant source of annoyment and embarrassment. How do I get them out anyway without renting a cleaner? Bah.
Lastly I was single too I had to remind her. I was not blissly in a relationship cruising towards old age with my partner in life. I was coming home alone and going to sleep alone every night just like her. Single hood is not a unique adventure.
After I was done, she started picking each of my complaints apart as easy to fix even giving simple suggestions on how to do it. First she had my house fixed and taken care of by early summer, then the spots, then helped me put into perspective how I am doing and how things are growing for me. What I found interesting is that yes all of these things are on my mind along with of course normal life stresses, but that she, with how difficult it was for her to find happiness, could find answers to all of my issues so easily. Could so easily find happiness in my problems. She was making me feel better about myself, when she could not make herself feel better.
I think maybe I faked it too well in this case, or maybe we all need to fake it better. Maybe she needs to learn to fake it till you make it, or maybe we should all stop faking at all. True happiness is with all of us, some more than others it seems, so I am not talking about just being happy, but rather letting the down times show to others. Should we keep our heavy stones, our problems, to ourselves rather than giving them to others to carry with us? If I have complaints should I keep them quiet in my head or voice them to another which might bring them down?
Another friend has cancer right now as I write this. She has been dealing with it since about October of last year, has lost all of her hair, is tired all the time, has lost weight, and still goes to work everyday. What does she have to look forward to? Well she is in chemo right now and the next step is Radiation therapy. After that, hopefully a normal life, well I think better to say, hopefully life. Yet when I ask her how she is doing she says "Oh fine" with a tired smile. It's a knowing smile too. She knows that I know she is not fine, but what is the point, I guess she thinks, of voicing it. She is as fine as she could be, and does not want to share all of the details with me. I am thankful.
Life is about compromise, everywhere we go compromise. We cannot change others and they cannot change us, but together we might be able to move closer towards the middle to meet. I think emotions are like that too. If we are truly depressed for a good reason, maybe a death in the family, or a lost income, or any number of truly tough situations we can do nothing more than put on a happy face and move forward. That is the best I think we can do. Move towards the center emotionally by acting a bit happier than we really feel, and often this will bring out better emotions from those around us. That is faking it and some might say this is the problem with the West Coast. I have heard this from East Coasters, that we are not honest enough. That we are acting all the time, and saying we are great when we might not be. "How are you?" "Great, You?" The East Coast seems to have no problem being honest about how they feel if you ask them how they are doing but which is better? East Coast, West Coast or small town? Who is the happiest?
Are we built with a certain level of happiness in us, or are we able to manipulate it at will? Do geographic differences factor into our level of lifetime happiness? Can we transplant ourselves to gain the benefit if there were?
I don't know the answers to any of these things, maybe you do, if so say so. Tell me, tell the world. But I do believe that at whatever threshold we are individually as far as happiness goes, our emotions are like the tides. They will come and go. There would never be a high tide if there was not a low tide, so I guess that is just life.