I have an old clunky 20 GB white iPod that contains most of the music I owned before. I don't even know if I still have the computer with the iTunes with the library of all the CDs I had once owned and burned. I thought it was on an external hard drive, but I'm not exactly certain where that hard drive is.
But that is an aside.
I took a trip across country in 2007, and the old clunky 20 GB white iPod died. Pfft. Done. Couldn't be revived. And it was horrible at the time because I was driving long days - going from friend to friend. My father replaced it at Christmas that year with a first generation iPod Touch (with LESS memory) which has mostly been replaced by my iPhone.
All of the above is mostly verbal vomit dancing around the real topic of this post.
At some point, after Dad bought me the iTouch, I was surprised to discover the white iPod worked. Still to this day no idea why. But now I have this little (relatively heavy) archive of music I used to listen to.
When I took off on that cross country trip, it was after having had a marriage counseling appointment that my wife had not come to. The third such appointment for couples counseling that I attended singly. In the eight years we had been together, I had learned (poorly) that when my spouse was in this angry place that the best thing to do was to give her space. I sucked at it. I wanted to fix things. I wanted her to feel better.. and I wanted to do whatever I could to help her feel better. But I couldn't. The only way for her to feel better was to leave her be. And that was hard.
I was at a transition point in my life. About to embark on a new job in a new career that I was scared about, but excited about, too. At that moment in time, though, I had no employment obligations and this new career was likely to be all-time-consuming with little to no opportunity for future vacation and I had never driven across country, and really wanted to do so. The lease to the car was about to expire, and since I had stopped the 100 mile daily commute two years earlier, we had plenty of miles pre-paid to spare.
So I got home from counseling, packed up the trunk, and took off across the country. It was a wonderful trip in so many ways, but bittersweet given the circumstances that partly inspired it.
I had a lot of time on the road to think. I needed it, too. And I have to say that my faith in God grew much stronger on this trip. Against all odds, frankly. I remember driving through mountain passes and asking - out loud - what am I supposed to do?
I created this road trip play list my second day in when I was at the hotel at night in New Mexico. In addition to good songs to keep me awake while I drove, I filled it half with love songs and half with "she done me wrong" songs to try and figure out which songs were calling to me more. Seriously. And the love songs were the ones that continued to call to my heart. I loved her. More deeply than I could have ever imagined. Even though she was crazy and driving me crazy and pushing me away.
I loved her. And that was the underlying message I received, at some level, was to just love her. To open my heart wider and love her.
I spent a year and a half doing that, my heart open as wide as it could be, and so when I walked away - when I finally had to walk away, I was done. I was done grieving the relationship that once was. And so, now, when I think back about my ex - and when I have over the last three years, mostly what I feel is numb. Sometimes, I have even wondered whether I really did love her. I had put everything that belonged to her, everything that I had given her that she had literally and figuratively thrown back into my face, and put it into a steel box in my heart that was well protected and from which I was well protected.
When I think about what I was grieving the last three and a half years, it wasn't her. It was my life. It was everything I gave up and left behind. And I never quite knew what to make of it - I kind of thought I should be missing *her* more and aching for *her* more, but I accepted that I didn't because I had already grieved her. And I do believe it. But every once in awhile it made me wonder if maybe I hadn't loved her like I thought I did.
Last night, for some reason (God?) I pulled out my old iPod and recharged it. This morning, for some reason (God?), I decided to bring it into my contract place to listen to while I worked. And I knew that the best of my music was pulled together in this Road Trip play list, so I selected it and hit play.
It started with simple old country with Alabama belting out "High Cotton", (Old times there are not forgotten..) and moved onto other songs that pulled at the strings of my memory. I smiled listening to "At the Zoo" by Simon and Garfunkel, started moving to "Move It" by Baja, remembered romantic evenings from college listening to old Tracy Chapman and Indigo Girls. It was an amusing musical trip down memory lane. I was figuratively patting myself on my back for having such great music. There were some tear-jerkers that I resisted being pulled too deeply into - "Bad Goodbye" with Clint and Wynonna, for example - mostly because they had applied to other relationships, too.
I was just zipping along and enjoying the day's soundtrack - my life's soundtrack - until The Promise by Tracy Chapman came on.
Oh, that song... Five minutes and 28 seconds of heart-tug for me. I think I may have even purchased the CD with that song on it while on the road trip, but I won't swear to it. But I played that song on repeat for hours. Particularly when I was away from my spouse, hoping that she would wait for me...
"If you wait for me.... then I'll come for you....although I've travelled far. I always hold a place for you in my heart..."
Over and over.. "If you think of me... if you miss me once in awhile, then I'll return to you..." I wanted so badly for her to tell me she missed me, for her to want me to return to her while I was on that trip.
"Remembering, your touch, your kiss, your warm embrace... I'll find my way back to you... if you'll be waiting..."
Over and over, hours and hours.. the song just encompassed everything that I wanted when I was on that trip. Everything that I was willing to give to her.... "in a place where I can feel the beating of your heart...."
"Together again.. it would feel so good to be in your arms. Where all my journeys end. If you can make a promise. If it's one that you can keep. I vow to come for you. If you wait for me. And say you'll hold a place for me in your heart."
And with those opening strums of the guitar, the bow across the violin, I was reminded today how very deeply I loved her. How very much I wanted her to have a place for me in her heart.
Generally, these days, if you ask me about the woman I left behind, I speak about it all with much distance. I have grieved the loss of her and I have long since learned to live my life without her in it. It is easy for me - for you - to dismiss the importance she once held for me because I don't feel it now - I can't feel it now. But today, I was reminded. I once loved her very deeply - and all I wanted was for her to make room for me and want me to return to her. And back then, I was willing to wait for her, too...
Showing posts with label country music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label country music. Show all posts
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
A Moment of Morbidity
Not many people like to think of their own death. I think no matter what our age is, we still possess a certain amount of expectation of invincibility that the youth is so imbued with. Unless there are certain factors at play (health issues, risky activities), we all think we have time.
And I hope we do. Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to tell you I know something I don't. I am hoping I have many "happy years" left in me, and that there are still more years to come than years that have passed, although I realize that I'm at the age where I could be at the half-way point, or past it, even though I don't quite feel I'm there yet. Or I hope that I'm not there yet.
But I was reading Dear Abby this morning, as I usually do each morning, and a letter she received got me thinking about my own death. Well, less my death, than what message I would want my loved ones to know if I were suddenly gone.
The letter (which I will paste below to satisfy your morbid curiosity!) was from a recent widow whose last experience with her husband was a fight. He went out the door angry, and was in a fatal car accident while talking on the cellphone with his brother. The gist of her letter was trying to deflect the blame his family was placing on her for his death (LOVELY!) and to serve as a warning about cellphones and driving.
But what struck me (perhaps a poor choice of words) was this idea of losing someone or more accurately, dying without someone else knowing how much I loved them. (And yes, Garth Brooks had a song about this, too "If Tomorrow Never Comes") Now the reality is that I doubt that there are very few people in my life who don't know how I feel about them. And this one person I was thinking about in particular, I do know that she knows how I feel. But if I were - God forbid! - to walk out the door today, and be hit by a car (because we don't really have that many busses in a small town, and while I do live near the railroad tracks, I'm usually smart enough not to step in front of one of those), I do feel that there is "unfinished business" with this person. I know that really, if I'm dead, it's been finished. But, there are still a few things, I want her to know - reinforced, perhaps - if I weren't here to tell her myself in the future. The reality is I don't like having doubts, and so I don't want those I love ever having doubts either.
So my poor friend Robin (who lives in another time zone) is going to wake up and find a very morbid e-mail waiting for her. (Sorry, Robin..). It first started out giving her some very specific information of what to communicate to whom. But then, I couldn't help myself, apparently, since I was on the topic, and I gave her details about how I wanted to be cremated and what I wanted done with my ashes, etc. (Again, sorry, Robin...)
But I realized that here is the real problem. I'm not really sure how my friends far and wide would get notice. I mean, I feel fairly certain that people here would find and notify my family. And that people locally would know, and folks that my family knows would know... but there's still a whole lot of ground that might not get covered. Including Robin.
Or you.
Hopefully, this isn't something that would ever become an issue (although maybe I'll send a second follow-up e-mail to Robin with a clue about my social networking passwords... ), but in this day and age of far flung friends, who knows and notices when one falls off the radar?
Okay - not going in that direction this morning. ;)
But if you take anything away from this post, I hope you share in my sense of the importance to let those you love always know how much you love them. Hug your significant other if you're fortunate enough to have one. Tell your best friend how much you appreciate him or her. Let those you care about know how much you care while you're still around to tell them. Because life is too precious to live in anger, or pain, or insecurity or to leave those we love in those states. We humans and our relationships are really all we each have of substance. These are the things that matter at the end of the day. Make sure those that matter know how much they matter. This is one area where you don't want to leave them guessing...
-----
The original letter, which again, touches upon issues I hope no-one else ever has to deal with, but nonetheless got me thinking and writing this morning... Oh, and send a prayer for this Idaho Widow that she might find some peace given this horrible tragedy.
DEAR ABBY: A few weeks ago my husband and I were having an argument. He stormed out of the house and was killed in a wreck while talking to his brother on his cellphone.
His family blames me for arguing with him. While I feel sad that the last thing we did was argue, I feel his brother should shoulder some of the blame because he was on the cellphone with him, which is illegal in our state.
Luckily, no one else was hurt in the crash, but I am very hurt that "John's" family is so angry at me. Please remind folks not to drive while on a cellphone. -- IDAHO WIDOW
And I hope we do. Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to tell you I know something I don't. I am hoping I have many "happy years" left in me, and that there are still more years to come than years that have passed, although I realize that I'm at the age where I could be at the half-way point, or past it, even though I don't quite feel I'm there yet. Or I hope that I'm not there yet.
But I was reading Dear Abby this morning, as I usually do each morning, and a letter she received got me thinking about my own death. Well, less my death, than what message I would want my loved ones to know if I were suddenly gone.
The letter (which I will paste below to satisfy your morbid curiosity!) was from a recent widow whose last experience with her husband was a fight. He went out the door angry, and was in a fatal car accident while talking on the cellphone with his brother. The gist of her letter was trying to deflect the blame his family was placing on her for his death (LOVELY!) and to serve as a warning about cellphones and driving.
But what struck me (perhaps a poor choice of words) was this idea of losing someone or more accurately, dying without someone else knowing how much I loved them. (And yes, Garth Brooks had a song about this, too "If Tomorrow Never Comes") Now the reality is that I doubt that there are very few people in my life who don't know how I feel about them. And this one person I was thinking about in particular, I do know that she knows how I feel. But if I were - God forbid! - to walk out the door today, and be hit by a car (because we don't really have that many busses in a small town, and while I do live near the railroad tracks, I'm usually smart enough not to step in front of one of those), I do feel that there is "unfinished business" with this person. I know that really, if I'm dead, it's been finished. But, there are still a few things, I want her to know - reinforced, perhaps - if I weren't here to tell her myself in the future. The reality is I don't like having doubts, and so I don't want those I love ever having doubts either.
So my poor friend Robin (who lives in another time zone) is going to wake up and find a very morbid e-mail waiting for her. (Sorry, Robin..). It first started out giving her some very specific information of what to communicate to whom. But then, I couldn't help myself, apparently, since I was on the topic, and I gave her details about how I wanted to be cremated and what I wanted done with my ashes, etc. (Again, sorry, Robin...)
But I realized that here is the real problem. I'm not really sure how my friends far and wide would get notice. I mean, I feel fairly certain that people here would find and notify my family. And that people locally would know, and folks that my family knows would know... but there's still a whole lot of ground that might not get covered. Including Robin.
Or you.
Hopefully, this isn't something that would ever become an issue (although maybe I'll send a second follow-up e-mail to Robin with a clue about my social networking passwords... ), but in this day and age of far flung friends, who knows and notices when one falls off the radar?
Okay - not going in that direction this morning. ;)
But if you take anything away from this post, I hope you share in my sense of the importance to let those you love always know how much you love them. Hug your significant other if you're fortunate enough to have one. Tell your best friend how much you appreciate him or her. Let those you care about know how much you care while you're still around to tell them. Because life is too precious to live in anger, or pain, or insecurity or to leave those we love in those states. We humans and our relationships are really all we each have of substance. These are the things that matter at the end of the day. Make sure those that matter know how much they matter. This is one area where you don't want to leave them guessing...
-----
The original letter, which again, touches upon issues I hope no-one else ever has to deal with, but nonetheless got me thinking and writing this morning... Oh, and send a prayer for this Idaho Widow that she might find some peace given this horrible tragedy.
DEAR ABBY: A few weeks ago my husband and I were having an argument. He stormed out of the house and was killed in a wreck while talking to his brother on his cellphone.
His family blames me for arguing with him. While I feel sad that the last thing we did was argue, I feel his brother should shoulder some of the blame because he was on the cellphone with him, which is illegal in our state.
Luckily, no one else was hurt in the crash, but I am very hurt that "John's" family is so angry at me. Please remind folks not to drive while on a cellphone. -- IDAHO WIDOW
Friday, May 18, 2012
Letting Go
This is the post that I almost started with Sixth Sense. But I could hear my editor friend in my head telling me that these are really two different ideas, even though to me they intertwine.
To explain to you my current issue of letting go, I needed you to understand my sixth sense, and that I tend to trust it. Now you do. Or if you don't, go read it and then come back to this.
I wrote the following paragraph in the last entry:
I wrote a friend recently that it's a fine line between faith and foolishness, in particular reference to holding onto the hope of a relationship. When our faith is "rewarded" we look good. When it's not, it is quick to be dismissed as foolishness. I don't like that the wisdom in these choices can only be decided in hindsight and based upon results, but even as I type that, I recognize there are a lot of situations where our wisdom can only be seen when what we anticipate comes to fruition.
I am a big fan of romance. I love Nicholas Sparks. The Notebook is both my favorite book and my favorite movie. I recently watched The Vow and The Lucky One, and another favorite movie of mine is The Time Traveler's Wife. I love the idea that "true love" wins in the end. Against all odds. Against separation. I am a sap.
I don't think I believe in "The One" although I do have moments while in love, that I believe in soul mates. I think there are a series of "ones". I am too cynical to think that in a world of 7 billion, there is only ONE and that many of us are fortunate enough to find it. Although I did find comforting Plato's description of us initially as hermaphrodites, separated and then always looking for our other half. Again, I am a hopeless romantic.
Hopeless.
It gets me in trouble.
When I was with my wife, particularly towards the end with her volatility I had at some level come to peace with the possibility that we would separate at some point. That one day she would push me away and she would run away. But like all good romances, I had determined that I would stay true to her and wait for her to get herself together and come back to me. That I made a vow to her and I had every intention of keeping it. I would continue to wear my ring and wait.
There's a country song that talks about leaving every light in the house on to let one's love know that they were waiting for them. There's another country song about someone leaving and moving to Austin a year before and this guy leaving a message for her at on his answering machine message which he changed frequently, but always ended: "If this is Austin, I still love you".
There is something "noble" in waiting.
In the end, my wife crossed a line I couldn't have even imagined. I didn't know I had such lines, but when she did it, my reaction was immediate, and I pulled off the rings I swore I would always wear. Not in anger, not in outrage, not in the middle of an argument - as she had done several times - but in acceptance. It was over. And I could never trust her and be with her again after what she had done.
(A friend just texted me completely apropos and completely unrelated, but amusing, nonetheless in this context, as if she were reading over my shoulder: "She's an evil bitch". I'm not sure I would go that far, but again, in context, I thought it was amusing...).
That decision haunted me. In fact, it still haunts me. But I trust it. (That sixth sense trust your gut thing) I do not expect that one day she will come riding in on her white horse and that she will have done the very hard work that she needs to do to be healthy and that she'll want me back. I do not want that. I want her to be healthy, and it would be nice to know that she was well, but I have let go and I know better than to go back.
You would think that experience might teach me something about this ideal of waiting. But it doesn't.
I was very fortunate that an old friend came riding in on her white horse to help me pick up the pieces of my life. As was completely natural, I fell in love with her, even though she wasn't available. It was impossible not to. But, at the moment, she remains unavailable. (Love those qualifiers).
We became close in that period of time and we shared practically everything. She told me multiple times - almost with surprise - that I was the best friend she'd ever had, and that she had never been closer to anyone else. She told me that she could imagine sharing her life with me. But circumstances changed, and she is gone.
My feelings for her are unchanged. And despite new interests and distractions, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her and miss her. A lot of really hard things would have to happen in her life for us to be together. And I don't want her to experience that pain. So I have not pushed. I am not pushing. But I am waiting.
I don't believe I should have my life on hold, and I don't believe that I shouldn't be with others, necessarily, while I wait. And perhaps in that process - moving forward in my life - I might find that I do move on. I accept that possibility, and at moments, I hope that it will happen. But I feel this strong feeling in my gut, deep down in my bones, that in the end, we'll be together - or at the very least, we still have more in our future together, and I can't seem to let go of that. As that one guy said to the other in Brokeback Mountain, I just can't seem to quit her.
But I have moments - LOTS of them - when I wonder whether I'm listening to the voice of God pushing me to remain open, or just my own strong, stubborn will. And whether I should start letting go.
I loved this scene from The Notebook back when I was still with my wife - the arguing part struck me then. The "pain-in-the ass" 99% of the time resonated loudly!
Young Noah: Would you just stay with me?
Young Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fightin'
Because that is where I am today. Maybe my faith is foolish. Apparently, only time will tell. But right now, apparently, I'm not yet ready to let go...
And this is what I was really thinking about when I started the Endings entry with: "Letting go is never easy. Figuring out when to and how to make it harder still."
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
To explain to you my current issue of letting go, I needed you to understand my sixth sense, and that I tend to trust it. Now you do. Or if you don't, go read it and then come back to this.
I wrote the following paragraph in the last entry:
I wrote a friend recently that it's a fine line between faith and foolishness, in particular reference to holding onto the hope of a relationship. When our faith is "rewarded" we look good. When it's not, it is quick to be dismissed as foolishness. I don't like that the wisdom in these choices can only be decided in hindsight and based upon results, but even as I type that, I recognize there are a lot of situations where our wisdom can only be seen when what we anticipate comes to fruition.
I am a big fan of romance. I love Nicholas Sparks. The Notebook is both my favorite book and my favorite movie. I recently watched The Vow and The Lucky One, and another favorite movie of mine is The Time Traveler's Wife. I love the idea that "true love" wins in the end. Against all odds. Against separation. I am a sap.
I don't think I believe in "The One" although I do have moments while in love, that I believe in soul mates. I think there are a series of "ones". I am too cynical to think that in a world of 7 billion, there is only ONE and that many of us are fortunate enough to find it. Although I did find comforting Plato's description of us initially as hermaphrodites, separated and then always looking for our other half. Again, I am a hopeless romantic.
Hopeless.
It gets me in trouble.
When I was with my wife, particularly towards the end with her volatility I had at some level come to peace with the possibility that we would separate at some point. That one day she would push me away and she would run away. But like all good romances, I had determined that I would stay true to her and wait for her to get herself together and come back to me. That I made a vow to her and I had every intention of keeping it. I would continue to wear my ring and wait.
There's a country song that talks about leaving every light in the house on to let one's love know that they were waiting for them. There's another country song about someone leaving and moving to Austin a year before and this guy leaving a message for her at on his answering machine message which he changed frequently, but always ended: "If this is Austin, I still love you".
There is something "noble" in waiting.
In the end, my wife crossed a line I couldn't have even imagined. I didn't know I had such lines, but when she did it, my reaction was immediate, and I pulled off the rings I swore I would always wear. Not in anger, not in outrage, not in the middle of an argument - as she had done several times - but in acceptance. It was over. And I could never trust her and be with her again after what she had done.
(A friend just texted me completely apropos and completely unrelated, but amusing, nonetheless in this context, as if she were reading over my shoulder: "She's an evil bitch". I'm not sure I would go that far, but again, in context, I thought it was amusing...).
That decision haunted me. In fact, it still haunts me. But I trust it. (That sixth sense trust your gut thing) I do not expect that one day she will come riding in on her white horse and that she will have done the very hard work that she needs to do to be healthy and that she'll want me back. I do not want that. I want her to be healthy, and it would be nice to know that she was well, but I have let go and I know better than to go back.
You would think that experience might teach me something about this ideal of waiting. But it doesn't.
I was very fortunate that an old friend came riding in on her white horse to help me pick up the pieces of my life. As was completely natural, I fell in love with her, even though she wasn't available. It was impossible not to. But, at the moment, she remains unavailable. (Love those qualifiers).
We became close in that period of time and we shared practically everything. She told me multiple times - almost with surprise - that I was the best friend she'd ever had, and that she had never been closer to anyone else. She told me that she could imagine sharing her life with me. But circumstances changed, and she is gone.
My feelings for her are unchanged. And despite new interests and distractions, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her and miss her. A lot of really hard things would have to happen in her life for us to be together. And I don't want her to experience that pain. So I have not pushed. I am not pushing. But I am waiting.
I don't believe I should have my life on hold, and I don't believe that I shouldn't be with others, necessarily, while I wait. And perhaps in that process - moving forward in my life - I might find that I do move on. I accept that possibility, and at moments, I hope that it will happen. But I feel this strong feeling in my gut, deep down in my bones, that in the end, we'll be together - or at the very least, we still have more in our future together, and I can't seem to let go of that. As that one guy said to the other in Brokeback Mountain, I just can't seem to quit her.
But I have moments - LOTS of them - when I wonder whether I'm listening to the voice of God pushing me to remain open, or just my own strong, stubborn will. And whether I should start letting go.
I loved this scene from The Notebook back when I was still with my wife - the arguing part struck me then. The "pain-in-the ass" 99% of the time resonated loudly!
Young Noah: Would you just stay with me?
Young Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fightin'
Young Noah: Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me
when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain
in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your
feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the
next pain-in-the-ass thing.
Young Allie: So what?
Young Noah: So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really
hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because
I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day. Will you do
something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? 30 years from now, 40
years from now? What's it look like? If it's with him, go. Go! I lost you once,
I think I can do it again. If I thought that's what you really wanted.
Today, what resonates from me as I read this passage, is the last part: "I lost you once, I think I can do it again." The idea that we can withstand the loss, and yet, not let go. Because that is where I am today. Maybe my faith is foolish. Apparently, only time will tell. But right now, apparently, I'm not yet ready to let go...
And this is what I was really thinking about when I started the Endings entry with: "Letting go is never easy. Figuring out when to and how to make it harder still."
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
So, who am I?
Believe me, I have thought about saying, I am the Borg. I have assimilated and the purpose of this blog is to assimilate you.
But that isn't true.
Or is it?
As I made the epic decision to try to do another blog (this is not my first anonymous blog, but hopefully it will be the one I stick with and the one that goes viral), I made this list in my head of all the things about me I needed to tell you. And I dramatically decided at the end, I would end it with "I am you." But I'm not.
Or I hope I'm not.
It's fun to find like-minded folks, and I hope to attract a lot of like-minded folks. But I doubt that there is someone who is as unique as me and who likes EVERYTHING that I do. I could be wrong.
I'm probably wrong.
But the reality is if you become a fan of this blog you will like a portion of the things I like and not necessarily all. My challenge will be to still keep you interested even when I'm talking about a subject you really don't care about.
So who am I?
Okay. Before I give you the list, I'll have to admit a bit of my neuroses. First, I wrote a list that I will qualify and say is not comprehensive. Then, afraid that the order in which I wrote things might suggest a priority in how I identify myself, I took the list that I had written as a stream of consciousness and then used an Excel formula for random numbers to order the list. #3 on the list is Geek.
Some of this list may make sense to no-one but me. But each one is worthy of its own post. If you want to know more, find the post.
1. I have a geographically diverse background
2. I live under a rock.
3. I am a geek.
4. I am currently single.
5. Zen is Borg and I love the Dalai Lama
6. I like country music.
7. I am a mystery / legal thriller fan.
8. I watch way too much television.
9. I love deeply.
10. I am active in my church.
11. I have a diverse working background.
12. I am a soccer coach.
13. I am a wee bit narsissitic - at least to the extent you need to be to write a blog.
14. I live alone.
15. I am a dyke.
16. I live in a small town.
17. I live in a poor part of town.
18. I watch a lot of Hulu.
19. I am an iPhone, Facebook and PC user, but I have owned a Mac, too.
20. I love the Superbowl for the commercials.
21. I have/am ADD.
22. I enjoy Texts From Last Night, Idiot Runner, The Bloggess, FlyLady, George Takei and advice columnists.
23. I love to line dance.
24. I am neither politically correct or incorrect. I just am. I do not belong to a political party, either. I am registered as an independent.
This is by no means comprehensive, but gives you a brief introduction. Interested? Read on. Tell your friends. Leave me comments. Adore me. Assimillate.
Resistance is futile.
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
But that isn't true.
Or is it?
As I made the epic decision to try to do another blog (this is not my first anonymous blog, but hopefully it will be the one I stick with and the one that goes viral), I made this list in my head of all the things about me I needed to tell you. And I dramatically decided at the end, I would end it with "I am you." But I'm not.
Or I hope I'm not.
It's fun to find like-minded folks, and I hope to attract a lot of like-minded folks. But I doubt that there is someone who is as unique as me and who likes EVERYTHING that I do. I could be wrong.
I'm probably wrong.
But the reality is if you become a fan of this blog you will like a portion of the things I like and not necessarily all. My challenge will be to still keep you interested even when I'm talking about a subject you really don't care about.
So who am I?
Okay. Before I give you the list, I'll have to admit a bit of my neuroses. First, I wrote a list that I will qualify and say is not comprehensive. Then, afraid that the order in which I wrote things might suggest a priority in how I identify myself, I took the list that I had written as a stream of consciousness and then used an Excel formula for random numbers to order the list. #3 on the list is Geek.
Some of this list may make sense to no-one but me. But each one is worthy of its own post. If you want to know more, find the post.
1. I have a geographically diverse background
2. I live under a rock.
3. I am a geek.
4. I am currently single.
5. Zen is Borg and I love the Dalai Lama
6. I like country music.
7. I am a mystery / legal thriller fan.
8. I watch way too much television.
9. I love deeply.
10. I am active in my church.
11. I have a diverse working background.
12. I am a soccer coach.
13. I am a wee bit narsissitic - at least to the extent you need to be to write a blog.
14. I live alone.
15. I am a dyke.
16. I live in a small town.
17. I live in a poor part of town.
18. I watch a lot of Hulu.
19. I am an iPhone, Facebook and PC user, but I have owned a Mac, too.
20. I love the Superbowl for the commercials.
21. I have/am ADD.
22. I enjoy Texts From Last Night, Idiot Runner, The Bloggess, FlyLady, George Takei and advice columnists.
23. I love to line dance.
24. I am neither politically correct or incorrect. I just am. I do not belong to a political party, either. I am registered as an independent.
This is by no means comprehensive, but gives you a brief introduction. Interested? Read on. Tell your friends. Leave me comments. Adore me. Assimillate.
Resistance is futile.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
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