My back is really hurting. Maybe I slept on it wrong? Ever since Tuesday or so I’ve had a pain like a pulled muscle just to the left of centerline in the middle of my back… I thought it was getting better, but I guess it’s not. I think a massage might help, but if it’s a pulled muscle probably not. I dunno. It’s just annoying more than anything.
Posts filed under ‘Uncategorized’
The phone interview went reasonably well. Thank you for your prayers. I got grilled for about twenty minues, then I fired as many questions back at them as I could. I think it ended better than it began. In any case, I’m trying not to turn every little snippet of conversation over in my mind and just move forward and be patient. I was nervous before the phone call, and I found that if I was actually doing something instead of just sitting waiting for the phone to ring, it eased the tension somewhat. I don’t think I’ve had a more productive couple of hours in my life…
Today’s been good too, and productive. Got some financial issues ironed out, and diversified my contacts a little bit in the interest of not hedging my bets on the High Point job. Looking forward to being able to sleep in tomorrow morning, though. I was up late last night tackling some drawings for my prospective employers.
And I need to get the soundtrack to the movie Rushmore. Funny movie, and great music…
I highly recommend the Hooverphonic album Blue Wonder Power Milk. It’s great, mellow music that complements a slightly world-weary mood tinged with a bit of wistfulness. It’s also good with fish, just like a fine white wine.
I have a phone interview tomorrow at 2 with folks from Levolor, in High Point, NC. I’d appreciate your prayers for me about that. The phone isn’t my best means of communication… It will be completely by His grace if I get the job.
Got bad cramps in my calves after running this evening… What else has potassium besides bananas? I’m not such a big fan of that fruit. It’s sweltering outside, too, even at 9 p.m. when I run. You can see the humidity hanging in the air. I felt like putting on scuba gear as I was running, but sadly, none was available.
I am listening to Pat Benetar. And enjoying it.
I’m restless. I think I’m sufficiently tired to conk out tonight without too much tossing and turning, though. My heart is pulled in fifty thousand different directions, my expectations sit everywhere and nowhere, and my hope, my hope… is so full, but… *sigh* These songs are pure emotion channelled through the vibrant air. Is there a more beautiful album than George Winston’s December?
It feels like I miss things I don’t even know yet. Some prescient nostalgia, coupled with an unnamed longing, fueled by dreams in the night… Elements of an uneasy soul. Is there more? Yes.
I’ve had nothing to write in here lately, nothing at all… My life is, in the words of Ms. Austen, a “endless succession of busy nothings.” Not that events haven’t been transpiring, but for some reason I haven’t felt the urge to disclose them, and didn’t want to force myself to type everything up stiffly in here. I don’t want this to be a static record of events, but something more expressive, but expression needs inspiration, and I haven’t found that lately… Well, perhaps a whisper, a gauzy shadow of inspiration has crept across my mind… but nothing that merited expression in this direction. I don’t know. Every time I try to examine the value of this journal, I come face to face with the paradox of its nature, the public/private duality of it all. I suppose that’s why the distinction is made as far as the security level of the journal entry we wish to post, but… still. I don’t know. Everything with come out right after I exorcise these musings, I’m sure.
I got an actual reply to a job inquiry yesterday. A yacht company in Chesapeake, Virginia sent me an application for employment. I don’t know if it’s standard practice for them to do that with every applicant, but, regardless, I promptly filled it out. I’m not sure how I’d feel about living in Virginia. If the process goes any further, I will have to scope things out, not only the area, but of course my possible employer as well. I don’t want to get myself into another Luhrs situation. I’ve been broadening my job searches lately, looking all up and down the east coast, and even some westward. It’s odd, but a part of me, now that I’ve lived for a bit down here in Florida, the state where my aunt, my mother’s sister, lives, wants to go to the other extreme and live in New England, the region where my mother’s other sister lives. But that’s all pretense. Though the snow and salt on the roads wouldn’t make for a happy sports car, something about the academic, sweaters-and-clam-chowder, deciduous-tree-paradise-in-the-fall culture does appeal to me immensely. I’m praying about it. These are just my daydreams.
The catalytic converter shield for my car came off today. It had been hanging down, and I worked it back into place as best I could every chance I got, but today it just came off in the apartment complex parking lot. Darn it. Well, I’ll just have David tack-weld it back on next time I’m in NC.
Got up way too late today and began my routine of emailing and calling places. Found out that my gross income last year wasn’t enough to qualify me for unemployment benefits since I worked part time and not a whole lot at that, maybe 10-15 hours a week. I finally got a call from the Autozone guy today about the job. I’m really wondering if I should take it. I don’t know. The sense of urgency about finding a job is really kicking in seeing as how I have to leave the apartment at the end of the month, and I’d really like to have someplace to go besides home when I do. It’s not that home is bad, it’s just I’m on my own now, and I don’t want to depend on them. I probably shouldn’t take the job at Autozone. I mean, I’ll only be able to work there a maximum of three weeks. Well, you know what, I’ll call the guy back tomorrow and discuss my situation with him and see what he says. If it doesn’t bother him that I wouldn’t be there very long, I’ll take it, otherwise, no. I’m not going to starve if I don’t, but it would be nice to have some extra money.
*sigh*
I think it’s time to apply for jobs I’m eminently qualified for, regardless of location. No more pickiness.
let’s go for a drive, baby, fly maybe
tear this canvas blue sky (fly baby fly)
let’s rip through the seams of our insecurities
onto deeper things; c’mon babe, try
What else could I say? Singing at the top of my lungs on a sandy road in the evening light… It’s simple, sure, but a cool simplicity, and I mean that in a refreshing sort of way. The virtues of just driving are rehashed and reborn in words one hundred thousand ways, and I found something new tonight, something grand… Join me?
i:she they
move, and through, more
coming, and coming upon
my meaning
strewn around the hedges and blasts
of fire the inky blackness swells
petulant
teeming with an unlife
gripping and moving, all in one surrounding
my eyes reverse their flow, and
bring with them something more of
the dawn, more of the whiteness
she says, and i hear, never to
turn my head, but keeping the ambiguity
at bay, revel in it. this is something to be
called forth, but the sentences were
frozen, knotted, and the vapors had
left for the summer, packing their suitcases
obligingly. perhaps it is, or maybe not
the words spring up
unbidden, but
topple, like unholy generals, marshalling
hordes of meaningless shapes
around a maypole of darkened ribbons and
plumes of war, the sonnet’s lost, my darling.
vaguely desireless, washed
and fallen into the portal of his ambition
more the whispers, the eyes turn again
in a rhythm of self-consciousness,
fumbling with feelings well-acquainted with
the time, and the textured walls–
stop. the names, they, more the names
and if spring metal soon flowers of foil
crush, and crush, and songs, always
the music. words, penniless creatures
assault visions, but only some
can truly be esteemed and bidden; the
rest–so much for them. line five, scene
fifteen thousand and nine, what is the
scratching of a poet but more tyrannous
sniffle-minded bombast, the fists of
his eyes knowing, possessing, but only
ekeing seven times less than
the calculated gait. they reach, they
long, grasping for the exalting church
bell spires ringing out hymns of simple
skies and blue more the wings of Sunday
mornings and everlasting risen on the tiptoes
and leaping smiles of the sun in full bloom
so much, so much to see, and to say
the heart surfeits to contain it all, and
needs another–even the reeling must
know whether his hands should
fingertips must, palms upward knowing
the air’s demeanor
but maybe contention swirls, streetlights
and the winter chill of doubts swirl among
his lips and then, the bells toll
again. is liberty something that the sheets
hold, or the curtains swung wide, draperies
framing the tapestry of leaves,
simply. celebrate, my love, for newness never
should follow a more deserving grace as yours.
and the roughing turns again among itself, its
own life.
unfinished:i am
My family made it home alright, of course, though not before driving through a deluge in southern NC on their way back up to Chapel Hill. My dad called me at 12:30 last night, very atypical for him, but I appreciated hearing that they had made it home okay.
Where do I go from here, God? Anywhere? What do I do more or differently than I am doing now? I feel at the mercy of any unfortunate event that may happen to come along, and at the mercy of many a very ordinary one, like bills and obligations and such, but I know I’m not.
David and my parents left earlier this afternoon at the end of a great week… The apartment was a bit crowded, but there were people here to talk to and who sympathized with me and prayed for me. It was great. We went to the beach, visited Embry-Riddle down in Daytona Beach, walked around downtown, and even saw the fireworks show last night with my aunt, uncle, and cousin, who has recently graduated and is looking for a job. She was able to offer her sympathies, too. My parents brought a whole stack of old records donated to them, for me to flip through and pick out what I wanted to keep. I found a whole bunch of ABBA, an Elton John greatest hits record (without Tiny Dancer, though, something I was slightly disappointed about), some great Fleetwood Mac albums (including two copies of Rumours), Pat Benetar, REO Speedwagon, Steppenwolf, and a copy of Pink Floyd’s The Wall in great condition. I didn’t realize what a great song Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” was until I listened to it on the turntable… It’s an experience I highly recommend.
Saw Ray from Luhrs today at the video store… Talked with him for a good long while. He was probably the guy at Luhrs whose company I enjoyed the most. It was good to see him. Picked up the French version of Cyrano de Bergerac… It’s going to be a dramatic evening :o)
My family (except for Paul) is here for the week, hanging out, partaking of their annual summer vacation to the beach… Their car had a blowout just north of the Florida border as they were driving down; fortunately my dad was able to maintain control and nobody was hurt, only the car is dinged up a bit. In between excursions to the beach, we’re looking for another rim for the car, as the existing one was bent out of all recognition after the tire separated completely at 70 mph… I’m sure it was scary. It’s nice having them here, especially David. We’re going to go visit Bob in about an hour and ogle once again his eclectic selection of VW Beetles and assorted car paraphenalia, and tomorrow we’re driving up to Jacksonville to help get Don’s Supra running. We’ve had great talks into the night, about school, youth group, God, without forgetting the essentials: girls and romantic interests. Of course, all this is interspersed between bouts of Twisted Metal Black and Gran Turismo 3 on the PS2 he brought down… We have to keep the deep conversations in check with some mindless computer-generated entertainment, you understand.
I have not been sleeping well. I thought about not sleeping at all last night, since I must have been tossing and turning for at least 45 minutes… For some reason my mind thinks the point when I lay my head on the pillow is the starting gun for an assault of thoughts and worries. It takes a concerted effort for me to rest my mind on images and situations than are peaceful and good and sleep-inducing. I wonder if it’s just the place I’m at right now? I’m not sure, but dreaming about my former job last night was not the most pleasant memory to wake up with. I dreamed that I had been rehired, but not by Rick, by Chris, the computer guy, but it was 1:30 in the afternoon, and I had to get back to work, and I knew that I was going to get roasted… It’s still with me. I really did not like that job, and it’s not just the aftermath of the dream speaking, either. Why can’t I have a decent night’s sleep?
Gotta clean. My family got out at 9:30 this morning (atypically late), so I have a little bit, but I want to hit the gym and work on the car for a bit before they arrive. It’s likely I won’t be posting quite as much next week as I have been, but I’m sure you all will survive without a constant stream of updates on my doings, goings-on, blood pressure, heart rate, thought life, etc…
Rained a bit today… Just enough to glisten off the windshield to the rhythm of the streetlights I passed under. It lent a certain relevance to the bridge of a U2 song I was singing along with.
My family is coming tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it, though the apartment isn’t nearly clean enough. They have a 8-9 hour drive; which is a good thing in this case.
I want this one.
the perfect light of evening reigns outside and after that which is before the sun coming within a bough of darkened branch, and seeming to stay, her shadows fly to reveal the crispness of an evening well-tended; sighing more, becoming nightfall as shades and breezes flow between the exhales of her star, reddening and collapsing into one, her own repose.
Stayed true to the things I knew when I was younger
And food and love was all but left to hunger
It’s when I stray from the truth as I grow older
Too much leaves an empty hollow hunger
I think about you on a moonlit night
And all the stars all seem to weep
When there’s so much love to lose
There’s never any time for sleep
Peaceful, serene nights surround my hectic days. The daytime is full of stress and strain; I don’t sail through them softly by any means, and the nights are a welcome reprieve. Tonight my emotions are in knots, though, for no reason I can discern… It seems to be something akin to the Sunday night longings I habitually fall into, but this is a Tuesday night, well, Wednesday morning. I don’t know.
Everyone and everything is far, far away.
Perhaps it might be of some interest to you fine folks out there (though not me in the least) to read some of my journal entries from my senior year in high school. I never kept a journal for very long, and these were written for an English class, but be that as it may, they are still a slice of Matt history:
Sunday, November 3, 1996
I can’t believe it’s already November. It seems like September was just yesterday. Although the closeness of winter does not warm too many hearts, the transitional season is certanly not without its own joys. The leaves are one of the them. Looking out the car window last week, when I was on the youth retreat in the mountains, it was as if God had spilled on purpose His celestial paint bucket on the hillsides. The deluge of vibrant color was overwhelming.
I went by a discount store today to pick up some film and they had their Christmas decorations out. Their Christmas decorations! Halloween has just passed! This is, in the opinion of the author, rampant, insane, and totally out-of-control consumerism. I could not believe that. I think stores should at least wait till the beginning of December.
Monday, November 4, 1996
Anoter typical Monday (if you want the definition for that , see the October 7 entry). This week is crunch time for school with a capital “C.” This is week 9 out of 9 for the first quarter of the school year. That means, quite simply, that if I don’t have 9 weeks worth of work in an envelope on its merry way to Washington state where my correspondance people are, my head will be severed quite painfully from the remainder of my body. But this is a PG-rated journal, so I can’t go into details.
Attended Shakespeare Club meeting today. It was fun; we’re making progress with the play. I’m really not making any progress, though, fitting into the group. Not that I’m trying too hard; I do believe there to be much merit in being an individual, it’s just that it would be nice to be included in discussions and things like that sometimes.
Saturday, November 9, 1996
Today was the only day in one and a half yars of woking at Harris Teeter that I have witnessed the arrival of more than enough baggers. We actually had enough baggers to supply each register with one and have one bring in carts from the parking lot. I guess you really had to be there to experience the feeling, to know the thrill.
My parents and I saw a concert this evening at the Arts Center in Chapel Hill. Many different kinds of musicians were there. Every band, we noticed, had its own unique style, but a common theme united the concert: NC folk music and folk music from around the world.
We really had a lot of fun. The atmosphere was great–sort of like a coffeehouse, with the tables and all; dim lighting by exposed bulbs in a ceiling with its inner workings bared. A former teacher of mine performed–one David DiGiuseppe, a wizard of the accordion. Yes, I used to play the accordion. No kidding. As you may have inferred, I love accordion music, and the master did not disappoint, with a smattering of folk tunes spruced up with some of his own compositions. It was great to hear that instrument’s reedy voice and nostalgic, European sound after such a long hiatus
Monday, November 11, 1996
I really need to finish my work for this quarter. It is now the 11th week out of 9. This discrepancy does not make for a happy mom.
This was the third night in a row that I’ve been out for the evening. Today it was to a Wycliffe Bible Translators banquet with my parents. In case you haven’t heard of the organization, their title pretty much says it all. The banquet was a lot of fun, though. The chicken and cream dish was top-notch, and the speakers for Wycliffe were great. One of them was a missionary pilot, and he told us some missionary anecdotes and stories the way only missionaries can do (you know).
I would like to be a missionary pilot. I have always loved airplanes and flying, and that career choice would let me fly and do God’s work (though I suppose God’s work is whatever we choose to do anyways).
Tuesday, November 12, 1996
Physics class was this evening, yet again. She talked about “circular motion and forces” in great detail, confounding everyone except me (who did Saxon Physics last year) and Aaron (the brainiac). This gives me a sort of unfair advantage that I like.
Wednesday, November 13, 1996
Today was totally out of character for a Wednesday; it was quite busy.
Most of today’s busy-ness revolved around my car. You see, I replaced the front tires on it; actually, I swapped the front tires on my car for another Toyota’s that had been totalled; actually, I didn’t swap tires, I paid a mechanic muchos simoleans to pry the tires off the rims, switch them, and reattach them to my vehicle.
I was thinking about our cat, Cleo, today, and I just marveled at how God created such a consummate example of grace and fluidity. A cat is so poised and elegant in everything she does. Cats are well-proportioned as well, with their sinewy strength. They are just living works of creative art to me.
Finally… After emailing about two dozen companies about job listings, I get one response. Granted, it was just a job recuiting agency telling me that they had received my resume and would contact me if there were an opportunity, but still… It’s something. Perhaps I’m doing something wrong. Most of the listings don’t include phone numbers, and neither do their websites, and it’s likely most HR people would just ask me to fax or email my resume, but calling them is worth a shot. I will do that from now on. I’ve called a few places, only to be turned down, but I feel like I’m getting somewhere if I can just maneuver my way through the automated phone system and talk to the correct person. For my own sake, then, at least, I will call more.
Why do I want to return to North Carolina so much? I had no qualms about leaving the state behind and coming down here; my adventurous streak was in full force. Familiarity? Perhaps, but there are stronger reasons. I’m very close to my family, and I make few friends, but those I do make are very dear to me, to an extent I hadn’t realized until they were many hours away. Yes, my relationships with people are something I cling to tenaciously… They are more intertwined with the outpourings of my heart than I let on.
*sigh*
At least it’s not raining today… The sky is grey outside, though. I should probably keep my big mouth shut :o)
Afternoon naps speak the language of a grey day, telling it that we are resolute in our comfort and snugness, despite the day’s attempts to bring down our mood. I am refreshed, a bit bleary-eyed, still, but diligently blinking that away.
Church this morning was wonderful, as it always has been. The teaching was on our completeness and fullness in Him, and the pastor was more adamant and earnest than usual, preaching with energy, though all sprung out of a certain Joy; there was no fire and brimstone today. He had recently visited a black church in the city, and it certainly showed, to everyone’s delight in our racially mixed congregation. He said several times that he wished he had an organ accompaniment to the sermon, to underline certain words that he spoke, and near the end, one of the worship team climbed up on stage and obliged him for a few minutes. We were all laughing, but still taking to heart the Words sprung from the words given him, spoken to our hearts; the Ones that were breathed into our circumstances in life, exposing them as inconsequential in light of His power and majesty and provision. I would honestly stay in the area just to remain a local member of that church. Breakthoughs happen in abundance every week.
Another solitary, drippy day. I couldn’t get Geno on the phone all day… He must be out jetskiing or some such thing. In the meantime, I put the electric fan on my car in place of the belt-driven one. It moves a lot of air, believe me. I predict no cooling problems in either the immediate or the forseeable future.
I wish it would stop raining for a spell. It’s been raining almost continuously for more than a week, and, with their din, the creatures outside are going to relegate me permanently to the couch in the living room if the artificial swamp in the midst of the apartments persists. In any event, the cool wind was wonderful, and made me pause whilst I walked down the stairs to the car this evening, to return the movie. Perhaps it’s good, though, that all this disagreeable weather is taking place now, so it will clear up for my family’s arrival at the end of the week. I just wish I did have something to discuss besides the weather.
I suppose I do, though, if I put my mind to it. I speak of things immediate to my senses only out of complacency and habit, not of any desire to conceal those things which are closer to my train of thought during the day. I reread her letters from Romania today. It was two summers ago, such a distant time, that she spent a few months in that country before our reunion in southern France. She wrote me pages upon pages of her musings, ponderings, and reflections while there, in a lovely hand, however she may deny it. Her words are as captivating now as they were then, when they were like water for a parched soul yearning for her company during her long absence. She described her experiences in immeasurable detail, but what was, and is, more, she spoke words of boundless encouragement to me. Even in her more recent epistles, she builds me up in a way to which I was blind before tonight… I don’t know why I didn’t see it… My heart pains to recognize the neglect that I held towards her tenders of emotion. Perhaps I wanted to be encouraged and supported in a way she could not summon within herself? Perhaps indeed, but there were many things, many attributes, many character qualities that I wished to extend in her direction during our last weeks and months, but could not because of underlying issues in our relationship. So perhaps it was not her incapacity in herself to demonstrate those emotions that caused them to remain unrecognized by me, but the simple fact that many things were blocked by the resident sin, things that I should have extended to her as a man, and things she should have extended to me as a woman. The more likely possibility, though, is that I simply did not see the encouragement and support for what it was, and so chided her unjustly for the uplifting words, unheard, that she extended to the best of her ability. It was a grievous attitude, one that I repent of and will not repeat; that much is certain.
Meanwhile, the soft music, while effectively overbearing the intemperate noises of the night outside my bedroom window, is having the side effect of causing my eyelids to droop. The quieter music was necessary to put me in a frame of mind to write, but is now backfiring. That settles it. Goodnight, all.
The amphibians are especially loud tonight in the lake that lies between apartment buildings outside my window. Last night the blustery wind quieted them, and I got to sleep in my bed once again. Tonight, to stand any chance of falling asleep, I must sleep on the couch in the living room, which is a bit scratchy, but at least longer than my bed, no mean consideration when one is 6’4.
Watched Mansfield Park earlier. Very good movie, and it concludes my viewing of the Jane Austen canon on film. I have now, unless I am mistaken, seen them all, in order of quality, Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Emma, and Sense and Sensibility. Have I missed one? It will be good to put this penchant I have for films of that nature to rest for a while and concentrate on other things, though goodness knows I could be filling my mind with much more sordid images and movies.
Installed the air/fuel ratio gauge in my car yesterday. The wiring was not as difficult as I expected it to be; all it needed was a ground, a 12V lead, and a signal line to the oxygen sensor pin on the ECU. Not terribly hard. I’ve removed the ashtray and put the little round-faced gauge in its place. It takes a while to come online, but when it does, it’s neat to see the LEDs light up successively as the air/fuel mixture varies from lean to rich and back again, depending on engine conditions. It may be little more than an diversion at the moment, but I think it will prove useful when the engine becomes further modified, meaning, when I have a job and leisure to spend money on such things. This gauge I purchased before last Friday.
Got a job at Autozone today, though it will be about a week before I can start. This relieves my mind a bit. I was going to apply for unemployment pay, but the thought of receiving money just sitting home all day, twiddling my thumbs and clicking away on the internet for a job did not appeal to me. I won’t be at Autozone long, only until the end of July when my lease here runs out, but I will be doing something reasonably productive with my days in the meantime, and earning some money I can use for an apartment down payment wherever it is that I go next. I hope it will be to North Carolina again.
I have a confession to make. Design is not a passion of mine. It may have been what I earned a degree in at college, and an interest, and a talent bestowed upon me, to be sure, but it is not what my heart is after. Where does my passion lie? My passion belongs to flight, and speed, and writing, and working with my hands, and helping others, among many, many things. Design has never held my heart; it has been a wonderful pursuit, and something I do well, but in the end a sterile activity. I think perhaps this is one reason I am keen to return to North Carolina again, so that I may see my friends again, and begin that for which my heart yearns, my dream, to become a missionary pilot. I called Piedmont Bible College today and talked with two very amiable people about the particulars of the curriculum. And though I was certainly daunted by the financial aspect of things, I felt a leap inside me at the mere prospect of enrolling. I must plan, though, and guard my finances carefully. Also, as I realized today, beginning my training with them, or whoever, must not be something that comes as a second option, as so many noble Christian pursuits have been relegated in our lives. I have been guilty of this several times, of choosing the missions trip or what have you only as a plan B. It was like I told myself, “Oh well, I failed at this, now let me devote myself to the agenda that I had on the back burner.” No, becoming a missionary pilot will be something planned for, premeditated, prayed about in earnest, certainly, but not a second option.
And the frogs continue their serenade outside… *sigh* I am drowning them out (pun fully intentional) with some Moby at the moment.
The water-loving amphibians and reptiles are having a field day (night?) outside… It’s an almost deafening cacophony of ribbits, chirps, and croaks. Amazing. I think I’m going to sleep in the living room again so I don’t hear it as much.
The melancholy element weighs heavily upon me tonight. I found another great job possibility, but elbowing your way into a large company is difficult, and it’s halfway across the country anyways. How I wish the Winston-Salem possibility had worked out. Heck, how I wish my dreams didn’t seem to be perpetually on hold–my dream of being a missionary pilot. But what can I do? It takes a substantial amount of money to attend flight school, and I would need to buy all the tools besides (a pleasant activity, nevertheless). I need to clean the apartment and so give my mind an orderly environment in which to sit down and consider things. This is the part where I wish I had someone here to deliberate with me and muse the possibilities. I’m certainly not above advice; I don’t think I pretend to be, either.
I am about to take a shotgun to the frogs outside. How can I be depressed with all the croaking? *sigh*
the rain it raineth every day…
What a dreary, drippy day, and it’s still coming down. The deluge has past, at least; around lunchtime the eaves were practically waterfalling… Anyone need some rain? I’ll be sure to send it your way. Perhaps I’ll go out and splash around in the puddles a bit. Can’t let the kids have all the fun…
The men’s meeting last evening was great. There were many attendees, and the teaching, on what define us as men, was very practical. The pastor offered something of a checklist, by no means complete, on things that define who we are:
– Our depth of commitment to God
– The level of honor we have created for God and our family name
– Our willingness to accept truth even if it exposes our wrong
– Our willingness to accept responsibility and care for those who depend on us spiritually, emotionally, and materially
– What we give our time to
– Who and what we are willing to sacrifice ourselves for
– What we allow our mind to dwell upon
– How we handle failure
– How we handle success
– Living our life fully conscious that we are mentoring the next generation
– Our life purpose
– The investment we leave the next generation
He would have gone on, too, had we not had a time constraint. He expanded on the points, too, but more than anything, it affirmed that this most recent failure of mine is an exercise in character, and the attitude with which I respond to it, and the things that I do, will be things to carry with me into the future. I know it seems some of you deal with more challenging things every day than losing a job, but this is where I am, and I can flail about, worry, and regress, or I can take initiative and learn from it. I plan on doing the latter. No matter what mindset I take, though, and no matter how fervently I set my mind upon it, there are emotions that prey upon me, ones that are understandable, but their familiarity doesn’t make their presence any less poignant… I’m not a big fan of uncertainty… I was about to say that some people seem to thrive on the expected, but I think that’s all in my mind. People like known quantities, and having situations they can bank on… Some unpredictability is good, but only to a degree. Yeah.
Watched Say Anything last night for the first time. Wonderful movie. The characters, the situations, and the dialogue were adroitly drawn and acted. I enjoyed the intelligence of the female lead (I always do; I think this is why I like Jane Austen films so much), but the tenderness of the courtship was something my heart latched onto a bit too tightly, and I found myself longing again. The rain last night and today didn’t help much, but that will pass…
The Winston-Salem job didn’t work out. Diligently searching…
This is a taxing situation; not having a job, and feeling stranded in another state… Talk about testing one’s initiative; I’m finding mine to be in demand constantly. Pray for me, as I pray for all of you. It’s hard. I’m going to a men’s meeting tonight at church; I hope I will find some leads there, probably not, but all I can do, ultimately, is trust Him. My sanity is linked to that; I know I will be provided for.
*sigh*
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
Men were deceivers ever.
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all you sounds of woe
Into hey nonny nonny
What a crazy day. I’ve never had one like it, not even remotely. After getting laid off this morning, I came home and just sat for about an hour, trying to get Gene (one of my former bosses) on the phone and pondering the situation. I finally got up off my rear and cleaned the apartment, looking for my badge so I could turn it in at 2 and get my last paycheck. I went to the bank to gather my account information and talked to my landlady about their procedures for early termination of the lease. I updated my resume, which, I might add, doesn’t look too shabby. I got my last check and drove by St. Augustine Marine, where I heard from various people that they were hiring. I picked up an application. I returned home and called Kevin at work, who has many, many contacts in the aeronautical industry, having recently come from a company that designs the interiors of business jets. I took a nap for about half an hour, then got a call from Geno asking me to join them at a local steakhouse. I woke up, drove over, and met some of the guys from the office there. They were nothing but encouraging and supportive. I really love those guys. Was never too keen on the job, but the guys are great. Karl was there, the Mainship boss, as were Geno and Greg, the two Luhrs Pro/E jockeys, and Kevin too, the Mainship Pro/E guy. Talked to him for a good while about possible openings, and this and that; he called one of his friends at the company he came from, B/E Aerospace, and it turns out that they have five openings in Winston-Salem, NC, that they’ve been trying to fill for a long time, and Kevin not only can put me through to the guy in charge, but coach me on the interview and everything. They design aircraft seats, which was exactly what the major project in my portfolio revolves around, and I’ve always had a passion for airplanes anyway. The first thing Geno said when I arrived at the steakhouse was that this was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and if this situation with Kevin and B/E works out, I might be inclined to agree. Everybody wants out of Luhrs and the management circus.
Regardless, I’m going to be okay. God is in control, orchestrating events, and will provide for my needs. The memory of being called into the office and terminated without any warning whatsoever is still a bit fresh in my memory, though, so it’s hard to escape the feeling. I think it will be better in the morning. I have until the end of July to leave the apartment, and I’m going to apply for unemployment pay this Monday downtown in St. Augustine. I have a fairly large chunk of savings stashed away, so I’ll be okay. The event of being laid off still has a very bitter taste in my mouth, what with the shady circumstances surrounding it, and the very unfair way that it was handled, but time will heal that wound. I feel a new avenue of possibilities before me, but also the pain of rejection. I’m learning that it doesn’t have to come under the auspices of a personal relationship to hurt deeply. If anyone would like to know how the whole scenario played out, I’ll tell, but I’d just as soon put it behind me and look forward.
After the reassurance and encouragement session by the guys at the steakhouse, Geno and I took some furniture to Karl’s house, a beautiful mini-mansion some ways north of town. He invited us inside and we shot the breeze for a while. Everybody wants to work for that guy instead of Rick, and there are good reasons for it. We then drove up to Jacksonville and hung out at Greg’s apartment for a bit, ate some Mexican at a local place, then drove around the main drag near the beach. We went to a bar, my first time in one of those. Pretty much just stood around the whole time. I mean, what’s the point? Greg and Geno did the same. It was a loud, smoky mass of greasy-looking guys with untucked shirts and women with way too little covering their bodies. It was an embodiment of everything that is quick and easy and transient in a relationship, a glorification of the fast and loose. I felt quite uncomfortable. I think I discovered why. I am a straight shooter. I’ve never been able to figure out this thing called “flirting,” much less implement it. I don’t posture when I talk to you, and I don’t play games… Maybe I’m boring? I don’t know; it’s just the way my personality is wired… This is pretty much how a typical conversation between me and a girl at the bar would have gone if I had talked to one:
Me: Hi.
Girl: Hi.
Me: How are you tonight?
Girl: Pretty good… How about you?
Me: I’m alright. I got laid off today, so that’s a bummer, but I’m making it.
Girl: I’m sorry…
Me: Thanks. It’s okay, though. Is this one of the better bars in town? It’s only my first time at a bar so I don’t have anything to compare it to…
Girl: …
And so on and so forth, with many more questions directed her way, of course. From what I can tell, to really get something out of going to bars and clubs, you have to play these little word and eye and body games, which I can’t do… I just can’t bring myself to subterfuge. I want to get to know her, spend time with her, make her laugh, not “hook up.” I detest that expression more than any other. Maybe it’s just the mood I’m in right now or something… I’m wiped out. I need sleep. More tomorrow, perhaps… Thank you all for your prayers and your support and everything. I’m optimistic, but a bit down, and totally exhausted.
Goodnight.
The waking this morning was another long, protracted reflex action. Unlike the little ones that occur when your doctor taps your knee with the mallet during a checkup, this one lasted a good fifteen minutes or so, and culminated with me getting into my car and driving off, at which point I woke up enough to be able to work the clutch and shifter…
*sigh*
Spent all of last evening putting the brazed and ported turbo exhaust elbow on the car at Don’s house up in Jacksonville. It was a lot of fun to hang out with someone who sees cars from the same vantage point as I do, and just a generally great guy. It took us three hours, and I was gloriously dirty and greasy and sweaty from literally head to foot, but we got it on the car. Undoing fourteen-year-old bolts from a slightly rusty exhaust system with a cobbled-together set of extensions and u-joint attachments for a socket driver is great fun. At least the car didn’t fall on me… That would have sucked.
Paul’s playing Counting Crows at his desk next to me… It’s a nice change from the morning tripe that emanates from Bob’s radio. Of course, he’s not here today, and even if he were, his desk is set off from the rest of ours, so I wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway…
What about a person gives you the impression that they can see right through you, to the things you don’t say but perhaps let through with your eyes if you don’t catch yourself? Is it an inherent kinship with that person’s way of thinking, a common vantage point on the world? Or is it a quality that only some people possess, an intuitive strain in their personality? Is it something you can cultivate in yourself? It’s sad, in more than one way, how we get better at shrouding ourselves as we get older… I suppose it’s necessary, though, given the realities of the world. That was my first impression upon meeting one of my older (mid-20s) relatives when I was still a teenager, how they seemed more adept at hiding within themselves… Perhaps it was just them, and I don’t know how I knew, but I remember coming upon that thought. It touches on one of the things that makes adolescence such a tumultuous time, as well, how we come into possession of some very grown-up emotions and longings during that time, and we are still learning how to rein them in, and conduct ourselves with people without letting inappropriate expressions through… That’s the knife edge of maturity, though–how do we thicken our skin against the world but still retain that vulnerability that allows us to have compassion and see through another’s faults?
More questions than answers this morning…
The bustle of deciduous trees across the intracoastal reminds me a bit of Europe, especially with the church steeples and higher buildings peeking up above the trees. It’s a pleasant view, albeit bright in the mornings since I’m looking eastward.
No piercing revelations this morning… Just a calmness, encouraged by the plain of watery grasses and small ripples in the river before me.
I do wish, though… I miss… many things.
I want to wake up in the mornings and not be tired. I wonder if I’ll ever become a morning person, and whether those people really exist, whether even they get up with difficulty before appearing bright and cheery with the sunrise.
I’m doing concept sketches for the 30’s console, or helm, from where the boat is controlled, basically. They’ll probably all get shot down, but at least I’ll learn what flies (or what has a chance of flying) and what doesn’t. It’s nice to know I can still draw after ages of filling other roles.
I am missing quite a bit this morning. The feeling is particularly acute today, and I don’t know why.
More later.
Hmm. It’s raining outside.
There are a million things I could be doing. I can use this. This short season of alone-ness, that is. I just muddle things up when I go forcing the issue of making friends. There is a difference between forcing the issue, and taking initiative and being friendly, to be sure, and I recognize this, but rather than sit on my behind all day, or feeling a slight panic of desperation like I need to have a friend right now, I can use my time more constructively. Listen to me; I sound like my parents already… Though I think that’s a good thing in a lot of circumstances. I can be developing good habits, managing my finances, learning HTML, reading a book, writing letters, heck, just writing in here. I will have friends soon enough if don’t isolate myself completely from the rest of the world, which I haven’t been doing anyway.
In any case, I think everyone should try Publix Premium brand mint chocolate chip ice cream. Goodness, this is yummy.
And my car needs a new clutch master cylinder… It was piddling hydraulic fluid all over my foot as I was driving home. *sigh* Well, there go a couple of hours tomorrow evening… Argh.
Sometimes, in the natural course of things, I am revealed by the things that surprise me. The tide was high earlier this evening, so much so that I had to pick and choose my footfalls carefully in order to avoid getting soggy feet. The ocean churned and crashed to my right as I ran up the beach. The clouds were rent and torn from a shower that had just passed, and were the grayish blue of the evening. The sea breeze came up off the ocean, just enough to cool me without fighting against my progress. I was thankful for that, since without the firm, flat stretch of low tide, the sand was making it difficult.
The local beach is in the midst of “renourishment,” as Craig put it when he was here, which means, in effect, they haul large metal pipes up on the sand and amuse themselves with blocking off the majority of the beachfront for their construction machines. Usually they stop their antics for the weekend, but they must have been working today, as I perceived one of the contraptions making its way down the beach, wheels half in the water. I was running as close to the water as I could, since the dunes were on my left, but the quickly approaching machine necessitated a tactical shift. I sprinted up on top of the dunes, and immediately stopped running. I never stop running when I start, until the end, but I was in awe.
The sky was still patched and strewn with gray cloud remnants, and beneath the lowest bank, above the horizon, the setting sun shot a beam of orange light as it dipped below the mask of clouds. The clouds, lit from underneath, initially mirrored the sun’s fiery glow, but made the progression back to their native gray as the sky drew away from its illumination. The black silhouettes of the windswept foliage and the lighthouse stood against the evening sky, encroaching on the sun’s realm. And near to me the intracoastal lagoons blinked, bright-eyed, fresh and new and green from the evening rain, an echo to the memories of paradise.
I stood there for a long time, watching the sun drop lower beneath the line of clouds until it shone forth again, only to rest on the horizon.
I
am
100%
categorically
uneqivocally
exhausted.
We moved the entire engineering office most of the way across the plant today. We. Us. The engineering boys. Even with five strong guys, it was a full day of lifting and hoisting and manuvering and adjusting. There was a ridiculous amount of stuff crammed in that small office space, 95% of which we’ll probably never look at again. And of course the managers are just sitting pretty in their new offices, listening to mozart and shooting the breeze with one another, while we’re hauling 30 giant metal file drawers up two flights of stairs in the lamination building, with fiberglass shards and fumes hanging in the air from the hull molds, and having to squeeze the drawers through two I-beams which are about a foot and a half apart, and then through the office door… There was a lot of swearing, needless to say. It was really starting to wear me down by the end of the day… The one thing that almost made it all worthwhile was the fact that I got to drive the electric golf cart most of the day. Being able to buzz back and forth between the new and old offices was fun, it gave me a chance to sit for a minute, and the movement provided a nice breeze. It was the loading and unloading that wasn’t so great.
At least I’m home, and it’s Friday. Thank goodness for that. What a day.
*ahem*
The best song of all time by the greatest group in Rock History, the Beatles, is:
“You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)”
If you’ve heard it (on Anthology 2), you know what I’m talking about.
It’s hard to remember what it was like when 11 p.m. was early, when, passing that hourly marker, I still had plenty of time before bed. It’s only been four months here… Am I that fickle? Do I forget my college days that quickly? I never really had much to tie me to college anyway; I thought four and a half years was plenty, that I wanted to be out in the working world, making my own way, looking out for myself, making money, basically. But the world rose to the challenge, and before I knew it, more money was being siphoned off that I would have known what to do with back in school. At least I am debt-free. I am very blessed in that respect. My parents, who provided for me through college, are the most incredible parents I know. I am enormously grateful to them, more than I know how to express.
Today was a briar patch of a workday, but I don’t want to get all riled up again. It’s taken me this long already to de-stress after work, and I think it best not to plunge into things again. Suffice it to say, a song that I recommended to a friend to sing for a local pageant, “One Day I’ll Fly Away,” is seeming very appropriate this evening.
The mint tea is wonderful, Elyse. Thank you for the gift, which I’ve only now sampled. I think it will be all gone in short order :o)
Quiet evening. I worked on the car for a bit. The ECU is still giving me code 51 and 52s, which means my knock sensors and TPS are acting up. I suspect the knock sensor issue might have something to do with the female pin on the connector for the ECU not staying in all the way, so I JB welded it into place. The power was interrupted while I worked, so it cleared all the codes. Drove around this evening, some of it spirited, and the check engine light stayed off, which is good. If I get another code 51 (TPS), I’m going to try swapping my throttle body out for Don’s in Jacksonville. He’s got a spare, and I haven’t had any luck adjusting mine properly with the multimeter *sigh* At least I can still pull 5.5 psi of boost, even with the valves needing an adjustment and the exhaust bolt backing out again (the JB weld didn’t hold up to ~1200F, unfortunately. I’ve got another fix for it, though). Stock boost gauges are notorious for their incorrectness, however. I might very well be pulling higher than that, closer to the rated max of 6.8. Guess I won’t know until I get my aftermarket gauge… All in good time.
My black beans and rice came out quite well. The cornbread mixed up perfectly and didn’t stick a bit to the pan. Quite filling. Borrowed a cup of milk from my neighbors, too, which made me feel somewhat neighborly, even though I was the one borrowing. They’re good folks. I need something sweet for dessert, though… My miserliness is going too far when I walk down the dessert and snack aisle and automatically speed up. I’m adding Moose Tracks ice cream to my shopping list.
For now, dishes, shower, dental care, bed.
All right! Now my car will be cool as a cucumber. Just as soon as I figure out how to wire up the thermostat, that is… Shouldn’t be that hard. I won’t have any more annoying whirring at low speeds from the stock fan, and the new fan will be able to cool the engine compartment when the car is parked and off, no mean feat here in Florida. Go me! Well, I’ll save that expression until I have the unit installed.
I have a vague recollection of someone saying something about not letting their hobbies develop into obsessions… Did I say that? Nah…
:o)
These are days of existence. My muse has not been awakened in several months. I have no romantic interests whatsoever, not even casual ones, a rare happenstance for me. I don’t like coasting. My passions are absent. I have hobbies, and I maintain the status quo, but I have the sense not to let my interests, such as the car, music, or old films, develop into full-blown obsessions. I said one day I would write my epic… Perhaps this is the time, my life uncluttered by extraneous emotions, to plunge into its creation. Perhaps.
Thousands of things to do today
Millions of moments I must admit
But only one
Only one
I’m tired today. My heart wishes for a more temperate climate. The mornings have begun to run together into a sea of greyness in my memory. The commute is drab and dreary, except for the occasional stoplight race (and win) with some executive in his BMW or some good ol’ boy in his Chevy. I’m even dreaming about getting up in the morning. Like Calvin said, “My dreams are getting way too literal.”
If you could dream about anything you wanted, what would it be?
Wonderful. The A/C up here in the office has gone kaput. In Florida, this is more than a trivial issue. Our windows don’t even open, either, since the geniuses who designed this building made them out of plexiglas for some reason. It’s 84, and it’s only 11:30 in the morning. It’s going to be a sauna in here this afternoon, what with all the computers and the large, unopenable windows. And the number for maintenance isn’t even on the phone list. Ah, American office life… Ain’t it grand?
The morning was clammy and already showing the signs of a day that will be muggy beyond measure, I’m sure. A large part of me wished I was still back in school and could be a bad student and skip class this morning, but it doesn’t work like that anymore. They’re paying me; I’m not paying them. The rules have changed a bit on account of that.
Rick’s back today. He was out all last week and most of the week before. His first act upon being back this morning was to shoot down everything Gene and I had done during the last half of last week.
I’m doing pretty okay this morning because of all the sleep I got yesterday. I went to the late service at church up in Jacksonville. It was amazing. I am incredibly blessed to have found that church, even if it is fifty miles one way to get there.
I have a tiredness headache… I really should be in bed, and I will be, shortly. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day, too, but I’ll get everything done. At least I was more awake today. It was a typical Friday in the sense that everything was winding down at the end of the week, especially during the afternoon.
I’m finding it somewhat difficult to rein in my propensity to buy performance upgrades for my car. EBay is not helping the situation at all. I won’t buy anything, but I could be spending my time more productively than just browsing around the site for as long as I do. There is just something immensely appealing about the ability to plug in a piggyback fuel computer to recalibrate the fuel curve, and have a digital readout in the passenger comparment of the vital functions of the engine. The same goes for electronic boost controllers, and any number of gauges that may be added eventually. We’ll see. I think the challenge of it all appeals to me as well. First off, within my car budget, which is depleted for a little while, I’m going to perform the preventative maintenance upgrades and the ones geared towards making this vehicle feel as if it were hewn from a solid billet of steel. The buttoned-down, squeak-and-rattle-less feel is what I’m going for. Okay. I’ll get there eventually. In the meantime, I have more important things to deal with than a dumb car. Yes. Like sleep, for example…
*sigh*
I bought a remix cd by BT called R&R this evening. Two hours of remixed house and trance. Very, very good. Great driving music.
I need… I need… I know what I need.
Where is my evening rain? I want the sky to unleash a downpour, for rivers to run in the gulleys and the storm drains to overflow… Where is my grey deluge? I need to exist underneath the raindrops and within the dripping fabric that whips against my skin in the wind… Where is my beautiful storm? I love the dark rain clouds that shadow the trees, and the thunder to split the air…
*sigh*
Where is my self-conscious pretentiousness, more like… This is ridiculous. I’m here to work. Onward.