BoldUlysses.com

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*

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.

Great.

I just got “let go” from work.

Wonderful Friday.

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.

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.