Thank You

Lord, thank You for stillness and patience and calmness of heart.

I pray that I remain faithful and that the sheep can be tended to and
fed.

Crap, I almost forgot

This "blogging every day" thing is going to be tough. But keeping my commitment is necessary. I need to be better in many areas, including being a better Christian, but more on that in another blog.

This is supposed to be the busiest week of the year at my company, especially these next two days. I really hope it's not so, but something tells me, I'm in for a loooong couple of days.

Day 18.

Brain Lock

If nothing else, here's to not forgetting to write today. There is nothing much more to say other than that.

My head hurts.

Let me just say

It felt good to see Michael Vick happy last night during the Eagles' preseason game.

Hopefully, the joy I saw on his face will continue and manifest itself in living a joyful life.

He made his mistakes, he paid his price.

Time to move on.

Blah

The more you learn, the more you realize you don't know.

Sent from my iPhone

An Excerpt

I slowly opened my eyes and looked out the agape double doors with the sheer drapes. I could see nothing but the twinkle of the moonlight on the waves as they crashed against the rocky shoreline.

I sat up, wondering what could have woken me up. I never wake up in the middle of the night without something actually waking me. I wouldn't necessarily call myself a sound sleeper, I can just get through the night. Moving to stand, I looked beyond the shore and walked closer to the drapes.

I looked back to the bed and couldn't see anything. The room remained engulfed in darkness until a light breeze blew one side of the drapes back against my leg. As it did, the moonlight flickered through the cavity and exposed her face. I was compelled to go back to bed.

One Day Away!

My fantasy football draft is only a day away and I couldn't be more excited for it. Time to smash and dash!

Competition in it's most vicarious form!

The Chubbiassance

About 3 years ago, I decided I was done being chubby. I worked HARD and lost 60 pounds in about 7 months. The change was dramatic, yes, but I made sure not to go too fast so that I wouldn't bounce back like a rubber band into the atmosphere.

I had no desire to boldly go where my waistline had never gone before.

For 2 years, I'd been able to keep it off without a problem. I would work out every day and was pleased with where I was, even if I felt like I could stand to lose a couple more pounds.

Last year was tough on me. As I dealt with being unemployed, I put a little back on. Not a lot, but enough that I noticed.

Then I moved to Chicago, where my gym isn't, and have slowly started collecting extra, like the bottom of a fast-moving stream. The sediment is being deposited I'm a few key (and familiar) areas.

Forget the Empire, the Chub has struck back.

Time for the re(re)-dedication.

No Pressure

Usually around my age in life for most people, if they aren't getting married and/or having babies, then it's their friends who are.

For a while I'd been able to avoid it, with only a handful of friends getting married, then last year one of my two best friends got hitched. Now this year, it seems as though everyone and their momma has been doing some sort of joining, be it in holy matrimony or of the X and Y chromosomes.

And yet, I feel no pressure. I know trusting the Lord's plan is always the right thing to do, it's always a winning gameplan.

Praise be to God. He is faithful.

No Mocking Me

I'm a pretty big fan of fantasy football. I wouldn't say I eat it and sleep it or something like that, but I definitely pay attention to what I'm doing and I always want to win. It's the competitor in me.

Since I enjoy my coworkers so much, and the almost all enjoy football, I figured it would be good to start a league with them. The draft is this Thursday night and to say I've been preparing a little bit would be like saying Adolf Hitler had a couple character flaws.

I've been looking at mock drafts, analyzing projections, thinking about strategies and doing my own mock drafts. So far, so good. There are a lot of smart guys, especially smart football guys. But I like my chances. I'll do some more mocking today.

I don't want to be cocky or anything, but like I said...I like my chances. haha

Day 9

I have nothing substantive to say.

I love my Dodgers. I wear the colors proudly. I can't wait till the playoffs.

How ironic would it be if they wind up playing the Angels in the World Series?

Ugh. At least there's television...

Nope, nothing substantive.




This might be a long 365.

Double Shot

I wonder what Plaxico Burress must be thinking right now.

Eighteen months ago, he was catching the touchdown pass that won the Super Bowl for the New York Giants. He was interviewed immediately after and said he felt like he was on top of the world just before he broke into tears. Today, he entered a plea that will, for all intents and purposes, end his career as a professional football player.

So how did we get here? How did someone who finally looked like he'd turned the corner from being a stuck-up prima donna devolve into a prisoner? I remember hearing analysts talk about him after he decided not to re-sign with the Pittsburgh Steelers (or after the Steelers decided they didn't want to re-sign him, depending on who you talk to). They said his career could go one of two ways, either an ascension to stardom or a fall from grace.

Turns out, both happened.

He was so good in Pittsburgh. You could just see he was ready to be something great after being drafted out of Michigan State in 2000. He got back-to-back 1,000-yard seasons in 2001 and 2002, the same year he set the Steelers' single-game receiving record with 253 yards. By the time he went to New York, he was known as a guy who was good, and could be great, but still hadn't taken "the step".

As the No. 1 receiver with the Giants, he eclipsed 1,000 receiving yards twice in the first three seasons and 988 in the other. In 2007, he fulfilled the promise others had seen in him. He played all 16 regular season games, catching 70 passes for 1,025 yards and a career-high 12 touchdowns as the Giants made the postseason for yet another season. Doing something that had never been done before, New York went on to win three straight road playoff games to reach the Super Bowl. In the NFC Championship Game against the Green Bay Packers, in what was the coldest-ever football game played, Plax (pictured above in that game) shined. He caught 11 passes for 151 yards and simply dominated the Packers' physical secondary. Then, against the previously unbeaten and heavily favored New England Patriots, Burress made the biggest catch of his life, even if it was only his second of the game.

Then last season happened...

I don't know if he got too full of himself or if catching that touchdown pass the season prior all of a sudden made him feel bullet-proof, but obviously the events in that night club proved just how mortal he is. After multiple incidents which kept him out of multiple games, Plaxico decided to take a gun into a club and accidentally shot himself in the leg. The subsequent legal troubles and coinciding New York state gun laws have lead to him pleading guilty to a lesser offense than what he'd originally been charged. The sentence will emprison him for two years. At 31, he won't even be eligible to play again until he's 33, not including any extra suspension time he'll face. No team in its right mind would take a chance on him. He's done. His sun has set.

I guess in cosmic terms, there was nothing special about him. He was just like any star.

He flamed out.

Can't Do It

I stay at work a little later than the rest of my co-workers so I can try to get a little extra done. Some have contended that I might be on the slippery slope towards being a workaholic, but that's another subject for another blog. For now, I'm content to stay late and pump out a few extra questionnaires or do one more data load or whatever I can to make myself useful.

Recently, as I was taking care of a couple of things, the cleaning staff came in. Now normally, there's a guy whose name I can't remember who comes in and we chat about the days events or whatever happens to be on the television screen. Lately, though, the cleaners have been a pair who are decidedly less talkative and definitely a little more suspicious.

Two nights ago, a lady and man came in and did their business and left. But then, about a half hour later, the lady returned and opened the door all sneakily. The second she saw my face, she backed out and closed the door. I just don't trust it. Can't do it.

It's definitely not a racial thing with me. I love all races. Well, except for the America's Cup. Just a little too much yachting if you ask me.

If I notice anything missing, I know the first person I'm fingering.

my eyes hurt

they are red, swollen and the lids feel heavy.

i almost forgot. then i didn't.

then i had to go somewhere with reception.


Day 6.


if i almost forget SIX days in, what does that say for my future?



ugh.

Dog Dayz of Summer

There's a place on Interstate 10 inside the Los Angeles city limits where it meets with the I-5 and becomes one freeway. Just before that point comes, though, the 10 winds and bends and contorts itself to get in a position where it can meet up with its busier counterpart.

It was in that place some 15 years ago that I saw one of the most horrible scenes I've ever seen. A stray golden retriever found it's way into the freeway bushes and was attempting to cross the crowded thoroughfare. It darted out in front of a truck and was missed, but the sedan behind it wound up rolling right over its midsection. My mother, who was driving at the time, swerved out of the way as it struggled to get to its feet. I kept watching, terrified as we passed and an RV approached the helpless dog.

I turned away.

I love animals. I had a dog for my entire childhood; we had to put her down just last year due to complications from her old age. Pepper was a good dog, I loved her dearly. I say these things because I don't want there to be any thought that I somehow hate animals or am unsympathetic in some way.

Could people please cut Michael Vick some slack?
I mean, really.

I believe that before getting into the polarizing issue that is Mike Vick, three intrinsic assumptions must be realized:

1. Human Life is More Valuable Than an Animal's: As cold as that may sound, it is and must remain true for the preservation of the species. Yes, animals have taken a special place in many people's hearts, but at the end of the day, a human is more important.

2. Michael Vick is a Human: Despite what some may say about the man now -- and despite his own contributions which have helped others form opinions to the contrary -- Vick is a human being.

3. All Humans Make Mistakes in Judgement: No matter how hard we may try, none of us is perfect. We are not God. We fall short, we make errors. We are flawed. No one is above making a mistake in judgement.

To see those three things, the argument could be that Michael is no human, so those rules don't apply. Nothing could be further from the truth. Regardless of the perceived severity of his acts, he is still a human being. If deadly acts against animals is the threshold for inhumanity, why are bullfighters so adored in Spain, cheered as they repeatedly and playfully stab a young bull to death? Why are circuses still allowed to continue, selling out from Los Angeles to Chicago the New England? Are those people somehow disqualified from humanity? It's all about perception.

When it was announced that Vick signed with the Eagles, the president of PETA wrote a scathing press release, going into great detail as to the things Michael had done to dogs. What I think they forgot was that Vick had already paid his legal debt to society. If the federal government can forgive him of his sins, why can't we?



Day 5.

are you ready?

Every year, the arrival of football season hits me like a kid who realizes it's the day before Christmas Eve.

Wait, you mean Santa's coming tomorrow night? Oh crap, I think I'm excited!

So yea, needless to say I'm binging on all these NFL preseason games. I love baseball, particularly the Dodgers, but every year, right around this time, I'm reminded just how much more I love football.

I may have a problem.

It's FOOOOOOOOTBALL SEASON!

Arachnids? No Phobia.

I hate spiders.

Let me be clear...I'm not afraid of them. I don't have some deep, dark idea that they're going to bite me and kill me or something. Simply, I just don't like them.

When I lived back home, they would be everywhere in my garage and spin webs on my truck. A few times I found them actually hanging off my window sill, just waiting to fall onto my shoulder. Too many times I found myself in a fight, searching for the guerrilla arachnids. I thought once I'd moved that I'd be done with the truck-loving bugs, but it turns out I was just getting started.

Day after day, I wake up to find silky strands on my side mirrors and in the bed of the truck. I went searching for one about a week ago and found one...although, it turns out it wasn't the one I was looking for, but an additional one that I wound up attacking with Febreze.

Still not sure if I actually killed that one.
He'll probably be back.
They always come back.

I awoke this morning to strands all over my passenger-side mirror. They extended all the way up to the top of my door and back to the back of the cabin. I took them down, but I have a feeling they'll be back up in the AM.

I win the battles, but I think they may be winning the war.

Pumping Irony

So...

Day 2. I haven't tapped out yet, so that's good. The last time I tried to blog more consistently, things didn't go well. Carnage ensued. I've always struggled with being consistent with this thing. If you look back through my archives, there's no rhyme or reason. I'll go three months of writing and then take four off. Maybe that's why I think this little "every day" experiment will be good for me. Maybe I'll be able to talk some things out and bring humor to others. Who knows.

One thing of which I'm sure is that it'll be good for me to have an outlet for my writing. Right now, the extent of it is contained in the emails I send to clients letting them know I finished loading their data. To be sure, this job is a blessing. It just doesn't allow me to write anymore. My girlfriend has been imploring me to write more, insisting that "you brain is a muscle and if you aren't working it out, then it won't be strong."

It's true. It's not like I don't know that, but it's always good to have someone encouraging you. And, since I've stopped writing, I've felt like I've slipped a little both in conversation and written word.

So yea...I hope this helps. I think it will. My muscles may have atrophied a bit, but I can get back into game shape.

really?

So, I saw Julie and Julia on Saturday. Yes, I was coerced, but that's not the point. The woman in the story, the Julie girl, decided to blog every day for a year. It kind of got me thinking...could I do that?

Who knows, but I'm willing (or naive enough) to give it a shot.

So...here we go. Here's to hoping I don't run out of steam after the first week.

Lord, help me.



Day 1