BoldUlysses.com

It is not a good day, and it’s only 9 a.m. I hate breathing sawdust and polymer fumes down in the cabinet shop and on the assembly line. I get blamed because parts don’t fit right down in the cabinet shop, when our computer models are dead-on and the CNC doesn’t cut them right, and I get blamed when everything that’s supposed to fit in the aft salon cabinet doesn’t fit, despite the fact that they wanted to shrink the whole fricking cabinet by about a third and expect everything and more to fit in it now… ARGH. I am going to throw a grenade in that boat. With both malice and premeditation, yes, I am. I hate this. Geno and Rick aren’t here, either, the guys who designed this area in the first place and can sign off on changes. So, it’s my call, I’m not overly familiar with the boat, it’s practically done, there needs to be a big change, and I have no utter idea what to do. Pray?

the rift between the notes edges into the part of me that sees you, and i know, in a sense. everything’s always in a sense, but for a fragment of a moment, this is real, and what flashes into reality for an instant could be a harbinger of years ahead. our tiptoeing amidst the froth of life was complete and new, i must admit. and thus we come to the word, admission, which is what my heart craves, and has longed for since a season of whispers. your rays have danced around me like an ocean of stars, the reflection only of the piercing firmament. what is not seen will illuminate the days beyond with its brilliance, though, and the fire within me knows a kinship. the flames radiate through the tips of my fingers, gently. only He knows the extent of the forces apparent here, but i marvel, i marvel, more at you, and what will come if the wonders begin here: the cirrus burned away by the dawn, the merging of my fingertips with the palm of your sky.

My nose needs exfoliation today…

It’s warming up again. In spite of the cloudiness, the summer is beginning to elbow its way into the climate. We’re putting together our new office today. Moving from here over to the lamination building, we each have a small table, a three-drawer file cabinet, a corner desk, and a hutch to assemble. It’s that particle board furniture that only requires a screwdriver to assemble. Matters are immensely helped, of course, by the presence of a power screwdriver or a drill with a Phillips bit, but we only had one to pass among the three of us this morning. I’m going to look like Popeye when all is said and done from all this screw torquing. At least it’s chilly in there. We set the A/C to 70 just to see if it would make it there, and the room has become like a meat locker, even with all our exertions.

Postage to Burkina Faso wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be… But then again, I really would have no right to complain if it were exorbitant; after all, I just spent $100 to get machine work done on an exhaust component of my car, something completely in the name of performance, so… Yeah :o)

Back to cabinet assembly. Have a wonderful afternoon, everyone :o)

Goodness. What an amazing weekend. Craig and Aaron left around an hour ago in the former’s blue Maxima after probably the best weekend I’ve had here so far… They arrived late Friday night. We walked around downtown for a little bit, just catching up and taking in the night air. We sat on the waterfront by the castillo for a bit and talked for a long time, just like we had in front of the campfire when we were camping last semester. We watched the sailboats come into the bay with the night breeze, and saw the moonlight reflect off the water as the beam of the lighthouse swept over the surface. It was serene, and condusive to deeper conversations. We got a bit chilly after a while, though, and walked back to the car, and headed to the 24-hour Walmart to shop for the weekend. As befits a group of three guys, we planned our meals out for three days down to the last condiment, and shopped accordingly. We zonked out relatively early when we got back to the apartment, as I was exhauated from the week and they were coming off a long car drive.

The food this weekend was great. Craig, who is quite a chef, cooked salmon with a honey-mustard glaze, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob Saturday night, I made chicken burritos for everyone for Sunday lunch, and we went out to Harry’s last night, which, as always, was scrumptious. My houseguests were very neat, and Craig even vacuumed the apartment and emptied the dishwasher for me this morning while Aaron and I were at the gym. I was impressed. Saturday we walked out to the beach for a bit, and the guys gave me bodysurfing lessons until so much water went up my nose that I couldn’t see straight. We attempted to toss a little foam football in the wind, which didn’t work too well.

Saw Star Wars Saturday night. I was not impressed. The small talk and banter between Amidala and Anakin made me gag, the battle and fight scenes were well done, but pointless, and the political talk just confused me. What was the deal with the clones, anyway? I still can’t quite get over the Yoda scene. The two slightly redeeming qualities of the film were the sheer creativity of everything and the fact that some of the romantic scenes were filmed at a lake in northern Italy where I’ve been. The lake house really exists, and is even more beautiful than the movie makes it out to be.

We went to church yesterday morning, came back, and after Sunday lunch, watched another movie, and I took a nap while the guys went to the beach again. The wait was long at Harry’s, but the evening was wonderful, and we even caught the tail end of a fireworks display that was put on by a local festival down the street a bit. We wandered back to Harry’s and finally got a table. The musician for the night had a great voice, and sang mostly covers until the end of his set. The music was just the right volume to underline the conversation without being too intrusive. It was a great evening, and weekend.

What is it with the profusion of Italian greetings on LiveJournal of late? I swear I’ve had half of my friends end their respective entries with “ciao” recently. Odd. Why not say “arrivederci?” It’s more of a mouthful, but it sounds more authentic. But I guess we’re reading the words, and not really speaking them, aren’t we? Never mind…

Going to bed at midnight or a little later is really turning into a bad habit. I really need to nip this in the bud before it carries on much longer and I can’t fall asleep early anymore. Tonight won’t be the night to break the habit, though. Aaron and Craig are arriving around 8 or 9. Well, maybe it will be. I’ll be exhausted, and they’ll be coming off an 8-hour car drive, so perhaps we’ll all collectively conk out around midnight. We shall see.

What do you love about the ocean?

I do too.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is a cute movie. I really shouldn’t be watching movies about trips and returning to loved ones, though, certainly not films of that nature directed by John Hughes. He has a knack for making his comedies more sentimental than the genre usually is, without being cloying. Lines in the movies that speak of sentiments related to commitment and patience and the longevity of relationships have a tendency to undo me lately. This is indeed going to take a while; I know it.

Amazingly windy these past few days… If Aaron wants to rent a surfboard this weekend like he was talking about he won’t be disappointed, but he might have to put on a wetsuit. It’s hot and muggy outside right now, though. Afternoon thunderstorms are imminent, hopefully. I want the rain.

The Duncan Hines double fudge brownie mix rules. It’s head and shoulders above the Betty Crocker mix. I think, short of my mom’s recipe, of course, they’re the best brownies I’ve ever had. I can’t take credit for them since I just mixed the ingredients together… Also, olive oil rules, the Jiffy muffin mix rules, and chicken burritos rule, as do toaster ovens. Just wanted to state those things categorically. I’m making myself hungry again just talking about this stuff; I need to stop.

Finally repaired that pesky little exhaust leak this evening. It’s rather annoying having only one car–with two you don’t have to wait for one to cool down in order to work on it, you just buy your parts with the other and go at it. My exhaust manifold is held on by a combination of seven bolts and nuts, and the last two fixtures were bolts, the second of which was loose. As it turned out, the threads in the aluminum cylinder head were completely stripped by the steel bolt (probably from overtightening), and not wanting to remove the whole exhaust manifold in order to clean and retap the threads, I decided (with advice from Bob) to just buy a stud and JB weld it into the hole, and screw a nut on the end of that. The tricky part was not getting JB weld on the exhaust manifold as I was inserting the stud, but it went fine, fit perfectly, and I’m only $7 poorer for the fix. We’ll see tomorrow whether this cures that annoying, cheap-sounding ticka-ticka-ticka from the idling engine. It’s a beautiful twin cam, 24-valve, fuel-injected, turbocharged, intercooled inline-6; it’s not supposed to go ticka ticka like some granny’s beat up Camry. At least I don’t think so. Next issue: The creak from the front suspension. Ruled out: Shock absorbers. Could it be the sway bar bushings? Possibly. Details at 11.

Au revoir.

She’s leaving today, on a jet plane, as the song, which I only heard last night for the first time, goes. Pray for her.

I’m incredibly tired. I got up and did everything by rote this morning, automatically, and I still am, to a certain extent. I’ve taken two walks to try to wake up, and it’s only quarter til 8. I have to wait at least a little bit before I resort to caffeine, I’ve decided. At least until 9. I’m so tired. I want a nap on the possessed couch in my apartment (which only acquired that title last night). More later. My brain is cutting out intermittently on me, preferring to get lost and fixated on particular scenes or memories, with my eyes drooped and my mouth hanging open a bit in that Suffern boy way… Argh. I need more sleep at nights. Last night doesn’t count since I had a good reason, but every other night, I need to get myself in bed at a reasonable hour. I love sleep. Sometimes I don’t understand this.

Something that absolutely made my day yesterday: Bob bought me a new Lufkin 16′ tape measure with the change he got out of Twinkie’s ashtray. He smokes, so he had to do something with it, I guess. I was eating lunch and stopped in mid-bite when he presented it to me. It’s bright, bright orange, and works great. You definitely need one around here, too. It was very, very thoughtful and generous of him, and like I said, it made my afternoon :o)

Today’s been just dandy… *sigh* Dealer focus group meeting this morning. Guys flown in from all around the country to give their opinions on the new 30 and the new 38. Carl’s opinion, which he told me later and completely validated my take on the experience, was that, “They don’t want to have to work. They want to take delivery of the boat, hand it off to a customer, take their money, take delivery of another boat, and so on and so forth. They don’t want to have to sell the boat.” Now, I’m not of the opinion that we should shy away from opportunities to make it the best boat possible, but these guys want everything. It’s ridiculous. To top things off, Rick drew all over several of my renderings with his ink pen before I could stop him (I feel like I’m talking about a little kid), and one of the major things the dealers wanted to do was to bring in a dedicated interior designer to do interiors of the boats. They said this basically because they don’t know how to deal with concepts and want to pass it off to someone else. The only reason they went for the 30 like they did was that Rick had an answer for everything they brought up. He has that boat nailed down. The dealers were interested in a complete product and just drew a collective blank when we put up the concept drawings of the new 38’s interior. Interior design and ergonomics is my job. Granted, I can see maybe bringing in a dedicated interior designer for a week or so to scope out the mockup once we get things designed, but we don’t need one around all the time. I told them this. I’m learning as fast as I can about all aspects of boats, but these guys want it done now. It just didn’t bode well for my job security for a good while there, especially with so many dealers piping up in favor of it. Given a chance, I can design a slam-bang interior; I know I can. There it is; I’ve found my mission, should I choose to accept it. Besides, I know Rick and even Charlie were feeling the same way I was listening to these guys go on and on… They’re just not thinking about everything when they propose these things. And maybe they shouldn’t be; it’s not their job. Still… It gets tiring, even if they did come up with some worthwhile stuff.

*sigh*

I’ve vented. Anyone care to supply me with a hug, a cookie, or a glass of milk (in descending order of effectiveness against my current funk)?

A day and a bit until she leaves for the summer. Hmm. Halfway around the world, again. I’ll visit Africa one day too, I’m sure. I’m not sure how I feel about all of that. I guess we’ll have to see how things turn out.

I’m very tired, but my apartment is in mint condition, at least. The dishes have been done, the floors mopped (the ones that could be mopped, at least), and the rug vacuumed. Now, if I only had some people to share in the newfound cleanliness of my humble pad… Soon, I will, though.

I invented a new dance tonight. Really. Brace yourselves–it’s the dance that you do when you have music turned up and you’re washing pots and pans, in other words, Dishco. It’s a very specific dance, akin to certain ceremonial rites and practices, each with their own particular context and function… Okay, I’ll stop. Corniness does not become me in this state of tiredness anyway, whatever that means… *sigh*

While he’s touching you
Just by mistake
Do you accidentally say my name

Natalie Merchant, even while she was with 10,000 Maniacs, had a certain touch to her songs, an ironic quality to them in how they dealt with serious subject matters to the tune of a light, catchy pop song, which makes some of the lines, sung with a sunny cheerfulness, all the more poignant. It’s hard to listen to songs like that sometimes, especially when they touch home.

It’s been cold here today, and by cold I mean 70. Ha. The wind’s been blowing, too, off the ocean, which has made the sensation of chilliness a bit more present than it would otherwise. It is nice to be able to turn off the A/C and open my windows, though. I enjoy the commotion of the leaves outside quite a bit… It gives an active quality to the night.

I want to marry a woman of character, just as I aspire to be a man of character. What do I mean by character? In my estimation, character is doing that which you don’t feel like doing because there are principles you live by, or not doing what you should not do, even though you feel like doing it, for the same reason of principles. I’m so, so far from that point, but hearing men speak like they did yesterday reawakens the moral aspirations within me, and reestablishes ideals. I let myself be influenced by them, because they are worthy of respect and give sound council. *sigh* I have such a long, long way to go, though, as I do in many areas, and my heart despairs of finding a woman like that. But it’s not my responsibility anyway, so I shouldn’t worry…

But you know I know better, I’m not gonna worry ’bout nothing
‘Cause if the birds and the flowers survive then I’ll make it okay
And given a chance and a rock see which one breaks a window
And see which one keeps me up all night and into the day

‘Cause I’m so scared of being alone
That I forget what house I live in
And that it’s not my job to wait by the phone
For her to call

I just wanted her there yesterday. All day. I wanted her to share in the elation and to have heard the words I heard. But especially during the night. Falling asleep was incredibly difficult. My emotions preyed upon me again; the gut-wrenching hurt revisited my memories, the wondering, the endless wondering, conjecturing, and everything else. I hate feeling that way. I just wanted her there. Even when I woke, this morning, the emotional residue was present. I must have dreamed about things in some capacity, even though I don’t remember. I don’t know. I need to get back to work.

It was cold this morning, inside and out, and quite difficult to get up. I think I might be getting sick; I’m not sure. I couldn’t sleep last night, either. It took me forever to fall asleep, and I woke up at 5:30 for some reason, and instead of looking at the clock, realizing peacefully that I still had an hour of blessed sleep, I tossed and turned. It was not pleasant.

The office was a-bustle this morning. Carl hired a new Pro/E jockey, so Chris was up here configuring his computer, and people were visiting. Very atypical for a Monday morning.

Sleepy, rainy day. The wind has been blowing hard. Every few seconds I’ll hear a rustle from the palm leaves outside. The ocean is beautiful in the cold rain, grey-eyed and windswept. I took a nap this afternoon, a long nap that very nearly made me miss the second church service this evening. Wellington Boone spoke, a Promise Keepers regular who, if you’ve ever heard him, you know, has an incredible anointing. He speaks words that spur congregations to action and men and women to become people of character and significance. Not just successful, but significant in their own spheres of influence. It was amazing. I have been so blessed today, first by the sermon this morning, and then by the service this evening. I heard Him speak to me this evening through the sermon about one of the reasons I’m here. He said, via an illustration that Bishop Boone was making, that I am here to learn to steward my possessions, to learn to handle my giftings and my finances in light of His glory, so He can entrust me with more. It was clear, and direct, and very encouraging. There is so much I want to do… But I need to pray, and be disciplined. Yes, that’s the key.

I saw the host of silent angels waiting on their own
Knowing all the promises of faith come alive when you see home
Hold still and let your hand melt into mine
Shed your heart and your breath and your pain and fly
Now you’re alive…

Watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s earlier this evening. Don’t think many people have had a more unusual reaction to the movie, but then, I don’t know. Perhaps it was the fact that it was set in New York, or that the female lead was something of a prodigal, carousing with men and drinking heavily, or that the male lead was practically wordless until the end of the film. I was about to accuse him of being a complete dupe, but I couldn’t do that. He stayed with her, helped her, until she broke his heart, that is. He at least had the courage to refrain from taking advantage of her, from becoming a “rat.” Regardless, it was an unsettling movie for many reasons… many of which would take reams of paper (on in this case, webpages) to flesh out… I finished the movie and sat in the living room, silent. There were two options before me: Bake brownies, or go for a drive. I needed to take the movie back, so the second was a more enticing choice. I started the car and put in the latest Jars of Clay cd, a recent purchase. I turned right out of the apartment complex, taking the long way back to the movie store. I knew I wouldn’t be going straight there anyway. I’ve taken to driving straight somewhere, or straight home, but never both in the same trip. In this case, I made a left onto 312 and rounded the long left bend running back onto the mainland. The stoplight at the intersection of A1A was red; there was a green economy car to my left. The other lights turned yellow… The singer on the album began a long note he would sustain, and it served as a catalyst for something welling within me… I revved the engine to 3K and held it. Our light turned green, in slow motion, the red extinguishing slowly, all the lights out for a few seconds, then, green. Drop the clutch. The rear tires wailed. 10…20…30… Grab second. Chirp from the tires, again. 40…50…60… Third. 70…80… The song waned and began to fade out. I blinked.

Suddenly, I became aware of my body, like a solid block of adrenaline from the experience. I breathed. My body purged itself of the thrill as my muscles relaxed and I settled back into the seat. I slowed up, and it was just as well, as I saw a police car circle corner of the median ahead of me. I turned the music up, and drove on. The guitar chords piercing the air from the speakers rent my heart like the ebb and glitter of oncoming headlights

…I’ll fly with you through the night
So you know I’m not letting go
I’m not letting go

Tears like rain fill up the sky
Oh my love I’m not letting go
I won’t let you go

Floridian downpour earlier this evening… I stood on the porch and let the wind whip around me as the storm built, and built, until… Release. Thunder rolled, water poured from the roof, and I could barely make out the swimming pool across the way, the rain was so intense. It was glorious, but short-lived. Half an hour later, the clouds broke, and the cool, blue evening sky craned its neck through. Moisture still hung in the air, thicky, and insects of every sort were having field days in the puddles. Thank goodness for cool, clean, dry air conditionning in the apartment.

Tonight, I’m relaxing. Rear Window and Almost Famous have been rented. It’s been a busy week, starting out badly but ending with a good sequence of days. Regardless of the emotional state of the week, I had my hands full, so it passed quickly. Sleeping in will be so nice tomorrow morning. I’m looking forward to church on Sunday, too. My dad, who, because of our many moves, has had (together with my mom, of course) to choose new churches frequently, allayed my insecurities about this new church in Jacksonville. I was feeling overwhelmed by the distance, but he said that I will simply have to plan on four hours for church on Sunday mornings and stick to it. It’s the truth. Every time I’ve been there the words spoken have met me right where I was, as well. And I love the worship. It’s not terribly far, in any event, and my cruise missile of a car makes short work of the distance anyway :o) Yes, I am looking forward to going back.

Driving around this evening, I heard the song “All You Wanted” (or whatever the title is) on the radio. I turned it up. There is a small radio in the office, and Bob (the electrician) keeps it turned down so as not to disturb any conversations. It’s just as well, anyway, since most of the songs they play are absolutely gutless pop and butt-rock (with thanks to Jenny for the expression). I had heard the song countless times, but this was the first chance I had to hear the lyrics and music loudly and clearly. I really like it, for many shapeless reasons. The details of the song are well put-together… And the wild abandon of the vocals on occasion meshed well with my mood at that point. I might have to buy the cd, something I haven’t done in literally years. After I buy that David Bowie album. Maybe. We’ll see.

Three days without a single email here–I think that’s a record of some sort. I’m so tired today. A nap would be wonderful, but at least I get to sleep in tomorrow morning. I’ll have to settle for that.

Stayed up much too late last night again. I really shouldn’t let this continue, otherwise my body will get into a routine and I won’t be sleepy early enough.

Nothing profound at the moment. Perhaps later.

I’m drawing again, and the drawings are coming out well. I enjoy it so much more than wasting away behind a computer screen all day, even if I am standing up all day behind the drawing board instead of sitting at my desk. I think it’s something about working with my hands (other than clicking a mouse, of course). Carl, the manager for the Mainship line, is an industrial designer with many, many years of experience in the marine field behind him. He can also draw like anything. I’ve been asking him for tips and borrowing drawing supplies. After I mount the illustrations on some poster board tomorrow, they’ll be ready for the focus group meeting on Tuesday. Nice. Job satisfaction: Check.

Aaron and Craig are visiting in a week and a half. That’ll be fun. Knowing Aaron, he’ll want to run every day that they’re here, and spend several hours in the gym. Knowing Craig, however, he’ll agree with me that they’re here to relax, and just to cool it. That’s the way it was when we went camping, at least. We had a lot of fun, and I’m sure we will this time around too. Perhaps we could even have a tinkering session with the car. I need to invest in a floor jack and stands, but I’m already over my monthly budget.

Back to the markers and templates :o)

The frustrating thing about car bodywork is that there is one way to do it right, and about twelve hundred ways to do it wrong. I removed the ugly pinstripes from the Supra this evening, picking away at them with my fingernails until it dawned on me that a razor blade, set at exactly the right angle, would peel them off perfectly and not harm the clearcoat underneath. Of course, this left the nasty adhesive still on the paint, which I was attempting unsuccessfully to remove with rubbing compound when my very thoughtful neighbor suggested acetone, which, as it turned out, worked flawlessly. So the car is smooth now, or, to use the French word, “lisse,” which sounds much better.

I’m getting my first performance part for the car soon, too. Not much, but a stepping stone to much larger and more powerful arenas. I’ve budgeted a “car allowance” every month so I don’t go overboard and I can still save. Gotta keep things in perspective.

The evening was cool and perfect. I spent most of it outside, as the breeze was soothing and the water in the pool still warm. The moon’s orb was an apparition as I walked to the gym… A crescent was illuminated by the sun, but the evening sky was still lighter than the larger, dark portion of the moon. As a result the moon could be seen in its entirety, with a sliver lit by the sun, flanked by bright evening stars and light wisps of clouds… I observed the evening artistry for a good bit as the breeze ruffled the dark silhouettes of the palm trees.

I feel unsettled today. My emotions are running here and there, unpredictably. Don’t exactly know what’s going on. I feel restless, nervous, and excited all at the same time, for no reason I can discern. The stress is ebbing here at work, the car is running fine, my finances are sound, I’ve found a good church to attend and friends to make. What’s happening? I need to pray.

Memories from riding in the car through the Alps came to me earlier today, in that real way that only lasts for an instant, but causes echoes in your mind–the instantaneous flash of recollection. When we lived in France, we would go skiing for a week or so at a time at least once a winter. The resorts were only a couple of hours drive through the winding, two lane roads at the base of the mountains and corkscrewing upwards. I remembering peering out the window as we were driving at the bottom of a huge gorge, with massive walls of stone rising on either side of the small river the road ran beside. It felt like a natural industrial scene, if that makes sense, with the greys of the bare rock and the bustle of the water. It was as if I was witness to the inner workings of the earth, seeing the dirty, unpolished source of the beauty that we admire and praise. I remembered getting car sick, too :o)

I miss her. I miss her gentle, soft, indelibly feminine voice, and her movements, each marked with an undeniable grace… I miss her laugh. I miss her vulnerability with me, and I miss my openness and vulnerability with her, when I could open myself without having my heart trampled on over and again. I want to hold her in my arms again, to place my palm on her cheek, wrap her in my warm embrace and say, again, “Welcome home.” Why must she be so far away and we have done what we’ve done? There are a million things, and more. I hate the emptiness and futility of words sometimes.

Will I ever love as deeply again? It’s a fair question.

It’s a cool, cloudy morning… I turned my driving lights on this morning on the way to work. I wish I had brought my umbrella in with me from the car, though.

The days tick by slowly sometimes. It’s difficult to believe some days that I’ve only been here three months. I feel locked in a rhythm of light and darkness, of stress during the day and relaxation during the evenings… Perhaps it isn’t as bad as all that, but sometimes my experience here just seems distilled to its most basic elements. Watched The Maltese Falcon last night. It was a good movie–very chess-like in the plot and layers of symbolism and exposition. Still haven’t seen Rear Window… I think that’ll be next on my list of old movies to watch.

I am immeasurably glad to be home. This has been the single most difficult day of my short tenure at Luhrs. The long and short of it is just changes upon changes Geno and I are responsible for in a boat that is already an absolute production nightmare. On top of that, I’m the go-to guy for everyone down in the cabinet shop. Whenever they have a question or need a drawing, they come to me. I don’t have 20 years of furniture-making experience like many of them do… *sigh* This company is just a royal mess. There is no meaningful communication anywhere, blame-throwing is rampant… I watched Office Space this weekend and felt a real measure of sympathy with the guys in that office. And with all these changes on the 44, they wonder why we’re not making any progress on the 30, or even the 40 convertible, the next boat to be designed… I practically sprinted out of there today at 5 o’clock. I need your prayers for endurance and perserverance. It’s hard some days, like today.

Bob showed up in Twinkie today. He took care of some of the rust this week and gave the bodywork a good polish with rubbing compound. The car looks better than it has in a long time. I was happy to see that he’s satisfied. He hasn’t got the stereo figured out yet, but he replaced the paper cones in the front with some decent speakers. He always eats in his car over lunch… When he drove his Beetle to work, he’d always say he was eating at the “Beetle Cafe.” I asked him how “Chez Tercel” was today… Goodness, that humor sounds really office-y, doesn’t it? It was really funny at the time. Hmm. Perhaps that’s an indication of something…

I bought one of those $5 disposable cameras yesterday… Photos to come soon :o) Now I just have to figure out where to put them online…

Went to sleep much too late last night… But I still feel rested. Tim and Erica left around 11 in the morning. It was a slow day.

I think, perhaps, I might actually get a tan this year. ‘Twould be becoming of a Floridian, would it not? :o) In any case, it’s started. I got new swim trunks, too, much better than the old ones were (they were like a sponge, basically. A clingy sponge). The wind was blowing yesterday, absolutely perfect for a long nap on the beach… Hence the reason I’m so rested today.

Just had a good conversation with Geno and Bob about alternate jobs… Geno is starting to look around, basically. He’s narrowed his interest range down to either being an owner of a self-storage facility or being a hitman.

My brother David is 17 today… Wow.

I think I’ve passed through my angry-at-the-world mood I exhibited in my last post… I go through those every now and then. Sometimes Sunday nights serve as a conduit for them. Sunday nights are like the twilight zone of my emotional life–anything can happen. Tonight was tempered by a good drive and beautiful night skies, scattered clouds with stars sprinkled among them, and the cool wind blowing all around.

I’m still not sure how I feel about her. I think part of friendship is opening yourself up to someone else, making yourself vulnerable. It’s taking a risk, in effect, becoming somewhat emotionally tied in with the other person. I think that’s why I have trouble talking with her these days… I’ve been so open with her in the past, and am so emotionally tied into her well-being, that it hurts to hear what she’s doing most of the time. I care for her so desperately, but I’m not a masochist. A lot of time and a lot of God will heal these wounds, but for now they’re still open. It doesn’t help matters that I have way too much time to think, either. At least one good thing has come of this, though: I’ve become a first-rate car singer. I can belt it out, windows up or down, with the best of ’em. “Walking in Memphis” by Marc Cohn is a cheesy pop favorite :o)

Part of me wants her to go to Africa and have time to reflect on the semester and really be effective in what she’s doing over there, and part of me wants her to stay. I don’t know why. Perhaps there’s the hope that we might see each other over the summer? I’m not sure. It would be good to see her again… But then the hurt would come flooding back. Time, yes. We need time, at the very least. And we need to grow, as well.

I’ve been thinking and praying a lot about missionary pilot school lately. I have a good job that pays well, and I’m living by myself, so I don’t incur an incredible number of expenses. I need to save money. This is something I’m convinced of. I would appreciate your prayers about this. I feel, and have felt for a long time, a conviction that the destiny that God’s called me to is to be involved with missionary aviation in some way, be it a pilot, or a mechanic, or in some other capacity. I’ve been researching schools a bit, but could stand to do more. Still, I need your prayers. I would still need a lot of financial support if I were to endeavor something like that. Missionary pilot school is expensive. But it’s my dream.

Jake Blues: How often does the train go by?
Elwood Blues: So often you don’t even notice it.

Interesting how in a demolition derby of a movie like that, lines jump out at you for no particular reason. No reason that registers on your conscious mind, at least. It was the first time I had seen it, though, and I was much impressed by the whole affair. In the spirit of the title of the movie, I’ll definitely have to introduce it to my own brothers. They’d like it a lot, I think.

This is going to be harder than I thought. Meeting people and making friends, that is. It’s so, so easy when you’re in college. Relish that. Relish the fact that you can just call up or knock on your friends’ door and go eat dinner, inexpensively. I miss that so much. The appeal of clubs and bars and the like is beginning to be more apparent now, though no more attractive to me than it was before. You’ve had a long day at work. You get off at 5, and you don’t want to do anything except relax and chat with friends. Making plans takes time and energy. So what do you do? You avoid making plans and just congregate at someplace premade for that sort of thing. I’m going to check out a coffeehouse next week, I think.

More than anything, though, I just hate the way our society is centered around sex. Absolutely everything. This bothered me before I came to Florida… Why’d I want to live by the beach, anyway? I go to a surf shop and the bathing suits are the most miserable little scraps of fabric I’ve ever seen. Don’t you women not want to be objectified? Then quit walking around on the beach in what amounts to less than your underwear. There are guys who will want to have long conversations with you, to get to know you, how you’re feeling inside, and appreciate and love you, not just tossing off some trite phrase or expression when they feel it’s time to throw you a token compliment. Where are the modest women? A real man will love you, really love you, regardless of your physical attractiveness. Sex appeal is not the end-all be-all of womens’ appeal to men. But that’s the rule in stores, in the media, in clubs, on the beach, everywhere… It’s suffocating.

Last night was awesome, with the worship and all the people there, but it’s so far. It’s 45 minutes just to get there. Why can’t this be easier… Why can’t I have a best friend right across the street like when I was little? I’m perservering… But tonight I feel worn and tired. I didn’t spend nearly enough time with Him and in the Word this week. I can tell the difference. My spirit is lagging behind.

Tim picks on Erica a lot. He makes fun of her, and even her appearance sometimes. This bothers me. I mentioned it to him but I don’t think it sunk in. We had a great talk last night, but they’re around each other constantly and as such don’t have much to talk about, and I’ve been so tired this weekend that I haven’t been entertaining. There have been lots of silences during our excursions into town. I wonder if things would be different if it were just Tim and me? Erica is a physical relationship that he’s trying to make into something meaningful, which is difficult, if not impossible, to do. And he’s failing his classes, again… I want him to do well, so badly. He’s my friend, and he’s smart and he presents himself well… But when it comes to motivation he procrastinates like the rest of us, only to the extreme. I’m discouraged by the growing ineffectiveness I see in my words of encouragement to people these days. But it’s the Holy Spirit that moves hearts and makes changes, not me. And I have so many issues in my life, too, many things I’m struggling through. It’s difficult to be a sympathetic person some days, though. I hurt for my friends when I see them doing these things to themselves… *sigh* But that’s life, right? You live and learn? You spend a season doing whatever it is you want to do and then pick up the pieces and move on, right? I don’t see it that way. We’re only given so much time, and this is my time. I’m going to live in it. Really, really live. Live for others, pour myself out, seek, strive, reach, grow. I want to. I want to stretch my comfort zones, to break out of them. I want to run after the destiny to which He’s called me. The fear is gone, replaced by an iron determination. It won’t fade this time.

Friends. People. How wonderful they are… Yesterday at work was rough. Most of us in the engineering department got fussed at in our proper turn. Bob’s computer is on the fritz, and the air conditionning wasn’t working properly, again. There were a lot of little annoyances, which, collectively, ended up grating on everyone’s nerves and layering an atmosphere of tension in the room. Rick asked me to bring a printout of an engineering drawing and a sample piece of metal barstock to the conference room at one point in the morning… I had to figure out where the heck the fabrication shop was, and find the particular piece he wanted, all immediately, of course. I felt a little bit like a gofer or errand boy, but you gotta do that stuff sometimes. I found a piece that was exactly the right size, but when I got the conference room, I had to take it back since it was aluminum, not steel. I found a steel piece and brought it to them, but later discovered that Charlie (a bigwig) had gotten upset because I brought aluminum the first time. This guy seriously needs to lighten up, otherwise he’s going to end up driving all the good employees away. Geno’s been looking through the want-ads as a direct result of things that Charlie instituted, and Bob Gould even walked out yesterday in the aftermath of an altercation with him. Who knows if he’ll be coming back on Monday. He was the manager of the tooling department and ran the CNC machine. We were beginning to have a real rapport, him and I, about things that needed to be done. I understood his timeframe, and he understood what he could expect from me and when. He also didn’t swear nearly as much as everyone else. I guess we’ll see what happens.

Tim and Erica arrived around 5… Things were awkward at first–I’m not the most adept when it comes to showing things off, like my apartment, my car, and the town–but I drove them around for a bit and we chatted about their trip and little things like that. I left around 6 to drive up to Jacksonville for the singles’ group meeting. It’s a long drive, but it would seem quite a bit longer if it weren’t for my car. It ticks away the miles so effortlessly, so serenely… It’s quite a blessing. I was a bit apprehensive when I showed up, not from nervousness about meeting new people, but because the parking lot was chock full on account of (as I later found out) a graduation service. Everyone was dressed up in slacks and the like, and I felt more than a bit underdressed with my t-shirt and shorts. It turned out that I was one of the first people to arrive, and of course the dressed up folks were attending the graduation, so my apprehensiveness came to naught, like it usually does.

I met a lot of people, really friendly people. There were about 50 college-age and early career-age people there, of all varieties. Interacting with people and simple conversation isn’t something I’ll take for granted again. I met a few guys I might be good friends with years down the road. Who knows…

Erica had already gone to bed when I returned at 11, but Tim was just getting started on his night. We had a great talk outside in the beautiful night and horsed around inside for a bit on his computer (which he brought in order to finish up some last minute homework). It reminded me why we’re such good friends.

Now, to find some breakfast…

What was the name of the most recent Star Trek movie? I was running through the titles earlier this morning with Jerry from R&D, and neither of us could remember the name… At any rate, I know waaay too much about that show, and the movies. It’s the same situation as the encyclopedias–many Sundays and afternoons years ago I just didn’t have anything better to do than lie on the floor of the front room at home and read my “Star Trek Guidebook” or the “C” volume of the encyclopedia… I wonder how empty (or full of things that are actually useful) my mind would be if it weren’t crammed chock full with bits of trivia and little useless facts… What’s useful, though? At least it makes for good conversation, as long as your conversational partner is as geeky as you are about the subject, which rarely happens. Oh well.

I’m tired. I stayed up too late last night. I have to tidy up a bit around the apartment tonight, too. Tim and Erica are coming tomorrow for the weekend.

Miracle of miracles… I didn’t eat all my brownies Sunday night, or last night or tonight for that matter. I still have about a quarter of the pan left. Not that they aren’t scrumptious, it’s just… I dunno. And I have milk, too, so it’s not the lack thereof.

Twinkie’s gone. I went over the car in exhaustive detail with Bob after work today, pointing out all the particulars. He’ll have fun with it. The sad part of the whole ordeal was that I was going to show him the creaking of the driver’s side visor, and it didn’t make the noise. This is the first time in six years it hasn’t done it for me on command. Bob drove off, taking my keychain (with which I had started the car) with him… He rang my doorbell about half an hour later and returned it to me, less Twinkie’s key, of course. I’m just glad I had to get in the apartment to get my tools before he left, otherwise I would have been camped on the stairs for a while… His kids thought the car was great, by his own account. He said they’re ready for rides :o) It made me happy to hear that.

I rented the Best of Mr. Bean earlier tonight, and am greatly dismayed by the absence of the beginning of his Christmas skit, arguably his best piece of work. I’ll have to see if they have that particular tape at Blockbuster… If they do, I might just choose to “lose” it :o)

There are few sounds in the world I dislike more than someone drilling into fiberglass on the assembly line. The whole deck or hull resonates with the low, grumbling din. Gene’s back from vacation, barking orders left and right, and generally “getting frustrated” with the CNC guys for not cutting the parts as soon as he’d like. They’re all in a meeting at the moment. Bob Gould and Ray are probably getting reamed out as I write. This is one of the times when it’s nice to have a job that caters more to creative abilities than the capacity to stick to a schedule. It’s not that I don’t have a schedule, but my job security doesn’t revolve around my adherance to it.

I always get starving around 10:30. I need to start bringing Nature’s Valley bars to work, or some Triscuits.

I’m looking forward to this singles’ group meeting on Friday, looking forward to meeting new people, new friends. It’s going to be good.

It was a sentimental evening. I’m selling Twinkie tomorrow. Twinkie is my first and most loyal and reliable car, bought six years ago. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a little ’82 Toyota Tercel, light brown in color. I don’t name my cars, but in this case Twinkie just stuck. If you saw it you’d understand. My parents brought it down here to Florida after I found an apartment and I drove it until I purchased the Supra and got it sorted out. It’s always started, never left me stranded except for the two times I ran out of gas, and the one time the timing belt broke. But even when the latter occurred, after $40 and a couple of hours, the car was back on the road again, running as well as ever. Bob from work is picking it up tomorrow. I sold it to him for $500, as he needs something that will start for him every morning. He owns about a dozen cars in various states of dilapidation, and none of them will accomplish that feat for him. He’ll take good care of Twinkie; I have no doubt, and I will see the car every day in the parking lot as work, so the separation isn’t as difficult as it would be otherwise.

That car and I have been everywhere, though. The first road trip we took was to Rocky Mount for an Odyssey of the Mind tournament. After that, we traveled the stretch of I40 countless, countless times taking me to and from school. It’s been to Greensboro more than a few times, to the beach, and many places in between. Twinkie took me to Charlotte and back many times last summer, and even made the trek up to Washington D.C. successfully. It’s heard my mangled singing at the top of my lungs and seen more than a few sunny reunions and tearful farewells. The driver’s sun visor makes a creaking noise not unlike that of a ship’s rigging when it’s turned towards the side window. It’s a very accurate sound effect, an uncanny reproduction, in my opinion. When the engine is in full tilt, it sounds very much like a loud vacuum cleaner, as well. I’ve installed a stereo and a couple of speakers, performed just about every item of maintenance I could find to do, singlehandedly removed the entire air conditionning system (non-functional), and installed a tachometer. It and the RX-7s were my initiation to the wonderful world of auto mechanics… I’m going to miss it. So many moments were framed by its presence.

Et dans ta caresse
Je sens une ivresse
Qui m’aneantit…

Whitecaps last night as I was running… They were just breaking the surface of the water, though, as the wind wasn’t all that strong. I’m having to dodge heavy construction equipment these days, too. They’re digging up the beach, to what end I have no idea. I think they’re going to enlarge or pave the parking lot, or both. They’ve taken away all the semi-submerged beams from the shore, the ones that were preventing erosion at that end of the waterfront. I hope they’ll put something else in their place–they were such fun to tread over and explore, all the sea urchins and hermit crabs hidden in the crevices between the beams… Haven’t seen a dead jellyfish in a while… Perhaps they’re migratory?

O fairest, yummy pita
Whose crust is crunchy sweet
You are the best to eat-a
For snack and ‘licious treat

O lovely, super pita
To what shall I compare?
The greatest slab of meat-a
Your glory cannot share

O wonderful, O pita
Whether sauce tomatoey
Or hummus from the freeze-a
With you tasty they will be

O bestest, scrumptious pita
May you ever remain yummy
And your travels will complete-a
Their journeys in my tummy

O greatest, crispy pita
May you never fall beneath
We salute you and we greet-a
Your ‘rrival with our teeth

O best of foods, the pita
You ever will I munch
Standing or in seat-a
For breakfast, tea, or lunch

Pictures of my brother David and his prom date Jennie. Aren’t they great? They had a fantastic time, too. I couldn’t be happier for him or more proud of him :o)

I’ve found a church, at long last. Thank you all for your prayers. It takes me 45 minutes to get there on Sunday mornings, but there are real, honest-to-goodness spiritual breakthroughs happening, the worship is just awesome, and the people are friendly. I’m going to a singles’ group meeting this Friday; we’ll see how that goes.

The service this morning was incredible. The sermon was anointed and spoke into the life of every person present. It’s a large church, with more than 5000 people, most likely, so I’m a bit bewildered by everyone, but the diversity is amazing. I felt blessed, and encouraged, and joyful.

Took a 3-hour nap this afternoon… It was so nice just to lay out on the couch and feel the sunshine tempered by the cool air, and fall asleep.

Now, to make brownies :o)

I hope you don’t mind
I hope you don’t mind
That I put down in words…

More vivid dreams last night. Dreams about flying, again… But this time, it was like sort of like any activity, any extreme sport, where you go to the center and you sign up and an instructor teaches you how. We all sat in molded white plastic chairs as some sort of pixie dust was sprinkled on us. After that, we only had get ourselves into the right frame of mind, and we would levitate above the ground, and be able to fly. The mindset had to do with really believing that you could, and not doubting. The chairs were there as some sort of aid… We lifted off the ground, one by one, and left the chairs behind us. If I doubted, if I tried too hard, I would sink, but if I maintained a carefree, doubtless attitude, I would be able to perform acrobatics at will. And I was… It was incredibly lifelike, the details, the soaring about the intracoastal waterway (this was by the ocean), seeing the wakes of the boats below and the clouds close overhead. I brought Geno back the next day, but we were in a building this time, and the whole operation was more like a cult than anything else, I whispered to Geno. The two leaders went on and on about vaguely new-agey things like the oneness of the universe, etc, when all I wanted to do was to fly again. I don’t know why I didn’t that day… Perhaps I needed their anointing of pixie dust? I’m not sure.

There were more dreams I don’t remember. I dreamed about being at a school of some sort, in an auditorium, being up on stage with my brother Paul and his guy friends, receiving some award. We were lined up at the back of the stage, and presenting the award was a nameless girl we were all familiar with in that movie way where you don’t notice how incredibly beautiful they are because you’re just too busy joking around and having fun. She stumbled a bit in her presentation speech, and we teased her a bit from the back of the stage. She turned around and smiled a “come on, guys” smile, and that’s when I had my epiphany. We had Hershey’s kisses on the stage for some reason, and my first gesture of affection towards her was to provide her with one during an interlude in the ceremony. It had a red wrapper, like the Christmas variety; this I remember.

There was so much more, so close to the edge of reality, but it is lost in the cracks of my mind.

I really like Geno. He doesn’t know anything about relationships for all his 30 years (and I thought I was old :o), but we can talk about almost anything, and laugh…

*sigh*

The nights are cool, windy, and beautiful.

I know I’ve said so before in this journal, but I’d just like to reiterate how amazing the production design is in Blade Runner. I just finished watching the director’s cut for the first time, which, especially in letterbox format, is much more satisfying than the alternate version. No cheesy voiceovers, for starters, and the violence is much less gratuitous, allowing one to focus on the cerebral aspects of the film. Such atmospheres they created… steam, smoke, piercing lights, neon, the glow of the sunset and sunrise, everything flickering, floating; everything is the surface but isn’t. It’s a beautiful piece of work. I could only conjure up environments like that in my dreams… I kept a dream journal freshman year. Perhaps I’ll start doing that again…

Dreams, waking and sleeping, have been a central part of my life for as long as I can remember. I can recall many dreams from my childhood more readily than actual memories–nightmares that sent me scurrying into my parents’ room or simply yelling for them in my bed, or epic visions that I would later record in drawing in elementary school, much to the bewilderment of my teachers–I can remember them all. More resurface everyday with the observation of a small details here or there, the gait of someone’s walk, the cracks in the concrete of the sidewalk, the shape of the clouds, the smell of the air… They may not register on my conscious mind, but they stockpile in my subconscious, circulating, protruding into my conscious mind only enough for me to be aware of the emotion of their presence. And every once in the while, Sunday nights being a prime example, they overflow and I find myself longing with the combined strains of both spheres of my mind for the unnamed universe. *sigh* These dreams… Perhaps this is why intuition fascinates me so.

and what you really wanted
I never even had

My alarm interrupted my dreams this morning, making it all the more difficult to get up. I don’t like it when my circadian rhythms are disrupted. I’m surprisingly awake for 8:15 in the morning, though.

Last night was perfect. I walked on the beach under the breeze and the sweeping beam of light from the lighthouse. The rhythm of the waves was calm, and the constellations of stars reflected off the ocean. I sat on the sand for a long, long time, thinking, praying, wondering, being.

Relatively slow, pensive day. It was difficult to get up this morning. I’m going to take a nap this evening—-no doubt about it. I ran last night, so tonight is workout night. I still need to change the oil in the car, though. I’ll work something out.

It’s hot, inside and outside. The air conditioning in here is seriously underpowered. Perhaps I should start wearing shorts to work? I can… But my professional conscience hasn’t let me yet. I’ll have to soon, though. Speaking of shorts, I think I’ll spring for some swim trunks tonight. This’ll be my shopping list: 3/4 inch drive socket for the oil pan nut, swim trunks, hummus, and deodorant. Aren’t I eclectic?

I feel slow today. My movements are slow; my stride is the same, but it’s like I’m walking in slow motion. I’m very tired

Ever have a shouting match with a rainstorm? It’s wonderful… I started running from the apartment; there was a bit of a sprinkling… which progressed to a shower, and from there quickly to a storm while I was running across the sand. It was tolerable going north, but turning south to return, I began to run into a glorious 20 mph headwind, dark clouds overhead, whitecaps, and the blood-red circle of the sun just visible, sinking low over the tops of the dunes. It was wonderful, plodding exertion *sigh* It reminded me of running through hurricane Floyd more than a few years ago, though I was much, much more drenched then.

It’s marvelous how physically clean something like that makes you feel. I breathe easily as the rain continues to fall outside, tapping the leaves of the palm trees.

I think Italian chicken strips are beginning to become a speciality of mine. They’re certainly getting easier to make. The only down time is the waiting for the marinade. Oops–I had better check on them. Be right back. Sit tight, everyone. Mmm. Perfect. Succulent, tender, and surprisingly low-fat. Yum.