BoldUlysses.com

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.

My chocolate fix for this afternoon has been had. It’s been good. I’ve been productive and am clawing my way into a position of competency and respect among my coworkers. Also, Bob’s really going to buy Twinkie. I will experience something I haven’t experienced in a long time–owning only one car. Well, no, that’s not entirely true, since my 240Z is back up in NC, but the Supra will be the only car I have available. Guess I won’t wring it out as much as I have. It’ll be a new way of thinking. I can’t just tear into the engine bay with wild abandon on the weekend like I have in the past. Logistics will have to be planned more carefully. I’ll be okay, though. As far as sports cars go, it’s a reliable vehicle, and I’m confident in my mechanical abilities. I can tackle anything that comes up.

I finally found out when summer shutdown is going to be–the week of July 28 through August 3. Far cry from the huge swaths of times allotted for summer vacation when I was back in school. Enjoy those, kids. What to do during that time? I’ll have another chunk of money saved up by then. I’d love to venture off the continent for a bit. Any ideas? Could I come visit any of you?

I really need to initiate a movement to change the radio station in here. The tripe they play is appalling in its vapidity.

Staring into space a lot this morning, tired. Engineering meeting very nearly put me to sleep. It’s entertaining when they start getting mad at each other. It keeps me awake. Wish they’d done that today, but oh well. Shouldn’t wish for strife anyway. I have enough of that.

And what am I doing anyway? Why do I put up with this stuff? Maybe I should just… I don’t know.

More sighing and wishing for a nap.

Do you miss me in the mornings? Do you miss the
toast and laughter of us? Do you miss the
arms holding tight surrounding
close home us love we so warm and
fit soft peace Do you? I might
be there; I might
she
misses
hisHands and –softTouch
on Do you miss,
the cheek?and more
we hadwe saw
lacking not the full just the
farness but aWonderful thing
sometimes more thanseldom
it was
Do you miss?
me

Anyone for movies, then the beach, and maybe the pool? Then we could hit the town for some dinner. I have the TV and VCR, finally, and the articles of furniture in the living room have been arranged such that they form a nice little enclave around the television. Watched “Rush Hour 2” last night with my dad… Good, mindless entertainment.

*sigh*

I think this has been the single most productive day I’ve had at work. I finished the lower galley, sent it to Ray to get nested, designed a nightstand for the starboard side stateroom, sent that to Ray, and got dimensions from the assembly line for the side window redesign. The 44 nears completion… At least until next week, right? :oP

The shadows were getting a bit long coming in the giant doors of the assembly building. The structure is cavernous inside in order to accomadate the decks as they come down on the hulls from above. I was inside one of the 44 decks, taking measurements, and “Where the Streets Have No Name” came on the boombox the assembly workers use. The first chords echoed throughout the building, filling the space. It made me pause for a bit, just to listen to the music over the industrial noises, the saws, the drills, the air tools… It was a bit of mid-afternoon serenity.

Good day today. My dad’s down here visiting for a couple of days–his idea. We went to Harry’s last night… We had to wait for about an hour to get a seat outside, but the night was cool and beautiful. There was a cover singer there; she had a really good voice and sang some good stuff, except for “Drops of Jupiter” by Train… Ick. She only did that one by request, anyway. You could hear a bit of suppressed disdain in her voice as she announced what she was going to play…

Then, talks into the evening… I really love and appreciate my dad. He’s great.

I found a good church, too. Thank you all for your prayers–they were definitely felt. It’s about 45 minutes away in Jacksonville, but that’s okay. They’re a large church, and not perfect, of course, but have dynamic worship, a strong singles ministry, and a real heart for outreach. I was very encouraged and blessed to attend the service this morning. I’m happy about that.

And then I got a dining room table… Finally :o) It’s a card table, basically, with four folding chairs, but it’s the perfect size and the whole set actually fit into my car on the way home. I won’t be cradling my plate in my lap as I eat dinner now.

God is good :o)

Well, darn it. I forgot to sign off after lunch break, which means nobody in my family has been able to get online for a good 4 hours or so. That was dumb.

I am getting sick and tired of working on this boat–the 44 convertible. Ever get the feeling that you’re just treading water with whatever you’re working on, that every little bit of progress you make is anticipated by another change, another setback? It doesn’t bode well for job satisfaction, to be sure.

At least it’s Friday, and I’m home. I’ll be investigating churches up in Jacksonville this weekend. I reckon some of them will have singles’ groups. Allegedly that’s where eligible young Christian women go to meet eligible young Christian men, and vice versa. Of course, it’s not the main focus (or certainly shouldn’t be), but many people count it as a nice side benefit. I don’t want that at all, though. I just want a good, supportive, uplifting, encouraging group of friends to hang out with and invest myself in. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

Mixed morning… The galley is going together well, and the double check that I ran to make sure everything was going to line up panned out properly. I woke up an hour early this morning, though. Couldn’t figure out why I was so ridiculously tired, got up, made breakfast, got dressed, walked out the door… “Gee, it’s kinda dark out here.” Checked all the clocks in the apartment. Dang it. I had accidentally pressed the “hour” button on the alarm clock that I set, causing it to run an hour ahead. I crawled back in bed for about 45 minutes, fully dressed. I woke up even more tired. It’s like my body was saying, “You have got to be kidding. You really want to get up?”

And I was absentmindedly running my fingers along a countertop in one of the boats earlier, and a splinter of corian caught me under the fingernail. That really hurt. It clotted pretty quickly, fortunately.

Good morning :o)

I wanna be in the light
as You are in the light

Warm day. It rained last night, so wetness covered the cars this morning–except on my machine, safe under its car cover. It’s a losing battle… I need to come to terms with this. No matter how obsessively I maintain it, it’s going to get t-boned by some riced-out Civic with a hang-glider strapped to the trunk or it’s going to throw a piston through the hood, or something. It’s just a possession.

I want to bring our telescope down here. It’s never used at home, and in spite of the fact that it’s nearly always in the corner of the front room, out of the way, it seems to take a surprising amount of abuse. It’s been a while since I’ve been stargazing. I’ve probably forgotten who half the constellations are now; they used to be so familiar to me. The night skies here are such a perfect amalgam of atmospheres–the bright city sky to the west where civilization is more concentrated–heck, present, the sky to the east is deeply dark over the ocean. The lights of the west are low on the horizon, giving the globe of the sky an eerie, bottom-lit aura. The stars are bright, and even successfully invade the western light. Thin lavender wisps of clouds trail off in the evening, and the sea breeze picks up. The air is cool, but still humid and full of life, as the salt plays havoc with the curls of your hair. Yes, I will go out tonight a greet friends long neglected.

“There are no interfering parts.”

That’s what I like to see when I’m doing an assembly analysis of this dumb redesigned galley. Crankin’ along, caffeinated.

When am I going to do some real design work, though? I wanna ideate and sketch.

No words of wisdom this morning. Perhaps I’ll feel more enlightened or something this evening. Just Pro/E and prayer this morning, not much more. Well, Coke too, but I need to quit drinking that. It stunts your growth, you know.

I’m on a Sarah McLachlan kick at the moment–is there a purer voice in music?

The cold air breathes through the raindrops of my thoughts, dripping onto my heart, evaporating. The colder part of me wonders if she will return to me singing that song, or if a different tune will be her accompaniment. Small blizzards of emotion pass, and I see no clearer than before.

“It doesn’t mean much / It doesn’t mean anything at all.”

And there she stands, brown locks of shimmering hair which kindle the embers time had neglected. Preconceptions, pieces of mortal reasoning fall away at His prompting, and things unfold anew like the petals of a lily. Her eyes reflect the cloudless sky, and imitate the soft patterings of the creek beside our clasped hands. Fervent words are exchanged, blackened, crumbling crusts fall away and reveal warm, beating flesh…

“The life I’ve left behind me / is a cold one.”

Insomnia sucks. 4 hours, maybe? *sigh* I need your prayers, everyone.

Alternately busy and slow today here at work… At the moment I am toying incessantly with the little widgets and doodads by my keyboard. There are two hose clamps, three plastic thingamajigs, a metal angle bracket, and washers of assorted sizes… And now Bob’s furtively surfing eBay Motors. Must participate.

:o)

I made peanut butter waffles for the first time by myself this morning. That was hard (if you don’t know, don’t ask).

Dreams last night–good, but detailed and odd, just the way I like them to be. It doesn’t happen very often. I was parking my car, and accidentally bumped another car, or something. In any case, it didn’t damage my car, but the other car bumped and bashed around the parking lot like a runaway shopping cart, smashing into other cars and such. I parked my car and acted like I didn’t know what had happened… The other car eventually ended up in a thicket of trees beside the parking lot. All the commotion had caused a police car to show up on the scene, though. The officer, a young woman, stepped out, and I explaned to her that I thought the parking brake must not have been on the other car… She was standing above me, on a wall, and I was further down in the grass. She had dark hair and delicately drawn features, and exuded a certain tenderness, in spite of the situation (this WAS a dream, after all, and anyway, by this point, the police thing had all but slipped away…) I was talking with her; I don’t remember what about, when, in a lull in the conversation, I heard myself say, spontaneously, “You’re very pretty.” I was completely mesmerized, and had been for some time. She stumbled for words, said, “Thank you,” very softly, blushed (this was night, but I could tell in spite of the darkness), and turned away suddenly. She climbed down from the wall and we talked more. At this point the night sky lit up with thousands upon thousands of meteor streaks, firy trails illuminating the ground like it was day. We watched it together, hand in hand. It felt complete and new and secure. To have your advances returned in such femininity and modesty… *sigh* That’s what I want so much… Forget about the flirting, where’s the romance? The patient romance of a lifetime, not the casual cheapness so prevalent in our society.

The dream went on in incredible detail, including a part about LOTR and about a doctor who was making a new type of pencil. More on that later.

Kayaking is a workout. The seat wasn’t ergonomic at all, and the effect the paddle has on your hands is akin to raking the yard–blisters can appear quickly. Otherwise, it was great, even in spite of the fact that all three of us nearly got sideswiped by a very large boat as we were pulling away from the shore and learning how to maneuver the vessels… Well, not nearly, but the boat was looming very large. Looking out over the intracoastal waterway, nearly at eye-level with the surface of the water, nothing in your ears except the brisk wind and the splish of the paddles, skimming over oyster bars… It was relaxing. My shoulders are going to be sore tomorrow, most likely.

The car runs great again. I discovered the source of the problem and rectified it… Now, when to sell Twinkie becomes the question of the moment. One of the Bobs at work wants it, and I know he would take good care of it. It’s just a matter of time and confidence I have in the Supra to not leave me stranded. I think I will replace the cam cover gaskets again and then start negotiations with Bob. Yeah.

The tide was very low this evening as I ran on the beach, leaving a thread of seawater stranded by the outgoing tide in a low channel on the beach. I had to leap over it a couple of times, but all in all, the beach was wide and open. A little boy ran with me for a ways, laughing. I smiled at him and chased him a little bit. He got a little scared, I think, and ran to his parents, who were walking further up the beach, and hid behind one of them, still laughing.

At least twice, I’ve been in grocery stores, shopping, minding my own business, and a child will be having a conversation with his or her mother, get distracted, look at me, and say something to the effect of, “Daddy?” to which the mother responds that no, it’s not their daddy. Do I look fatherly? Or simply older? I’m not sure. Perhaps the child is just so out of touch with their real father that they say that to every tallish male that crosses their path, which would be very sad indeed. Something to ponder.

It runs. And it sounds beautiful, as well, no more annoying ticking, just a sonorous turbocharged inline 6. There is no more beautiful engine sound than that except for a turbo’d rotary in full tilt. That’s goosebump material for sure. It still needs a little tweaking, but that’s just detail work. I feel very blessed to have found the exhaust leak and fixed it, and even without using my new $30 turbo-to-exhaust gasket. Guess I’ll save that for some other time. In any case, I was encouraged. Perhaps I’m not as inept a mechanic as I thought I was, or, the more likely answer, God knew I needed something this evening and blessed me with this discovery. If I get responses back from the listserve tomorrow about the fine tuning I still need to do, I should be humming nicely around St. Augustine by tomorrow night. That will be nice.

I like Geno a lot. I’m comfortable around him. We went to a touristy oriental restaurant this evening, just checking it out. It was alright, kind of expensive, but after the week we’ve had, I think it’s okay. We had some good conversation about our respective approaches to dating and such, and Geno thought our waitress was cute. I think his choice of dishes owed more to her presentation of her recommendations off the menu than his actual preferences… I base this theory on the fact that he told her wanted that particular dish as she was halfway through a sentence in her presentation. We walked around downtown, bought some ice cream, strolled around, talking, sat in on a couple of ghost tours, drove back to his place, and just watched television, lying on the floor. It was relaxing. Tomorrow is jetskiing. We’re going to sleep well tomorrow night, I can guarantee you that.

Perhaps I’ll even find some furniture tomorrow… Something to look into on the morn. To bed, to bed.

Driving to work today, right before the 312 bridge, I fished my Winter Solstice tape off the floor and popped it in the tape deck. I know it’s a bit unseasonal, but I wanted to hear George Winston’s interpretation of Greensleeves, one of the most beautiful piano pieces you will ever hear. The chords began just as I was descending the second half of the bridge, and looking in my rearview mirror, I could see the black silouettes of the cars against the orange glow of the sky at sunrise, their headlights like eyes peering out of a fleeting darkness. The piece continued as I was rounding a bend along a back road to work, and I saw the large glow of the sun, just dim enough to be looked at for a few moments at a time, sitting on the horizon, glowing, rejuvenated through the black reeds and thickets which stood on the water between us. Mixed with the icy ebb and flow of the music, the moment was breathtaking.

I was immensely encouraged last night, first by God, then by my father. I love my dad. He must have talked for a good half hour, speaking life and encouragement to me. It was wonderful. Then and now, I have a hope, a confidence, that God will lead me to the one He has chosen for me, someone who I will complement and who will complement me. It may sound like a given, but I realized again that He’s made me a certain way, and He rejoices in His creation. I’m loved. It’s a new beginning, and I’m waking up, shining my light anew, by His grace.

I wish it would rain.

This is a pretty boat.