The Gamble of a Lifetime

Well the first one at least.

No one but me knows how much I’ve been dying to write this post. How much I’ve been thinking about what I was going to say, what I was going to write, how long it was going to be, what I was going to include in it. If there was going to be screen shots, or pictures, or if I was going to save other things for other future blog posts.

But enough of that – of course everyone that writes in these has to put some thought in to it. That is the beauty of writing – hopefully you are thinking while you are doing it. Thinking at least about something.

The only thing that kept running through my mind was Rounders. I don’t know if you’ve seen that movie yet. I’ve seen it roughly 80 times. And mainly because I used to go on those long online poker binges where just the sound of it running in the background was soothing. And I’d watch it 5 times in one day and not really notice.

Near the beginning of the movie Mike McD says, “If you’re too careful, you’re whole life can become a fucking grind”.

For me, that really hit home. Even to this day, after working a quote un-quote “real job” (yes I actually wrote that out AND included the quotes) I still think I don’t have to grind out an 8 hour a day job M-F in order to retire when I want to. I still think I am smart enough to find money outside of working for an actual company. For a while there I thought I could make it at poker. I knew it wasn’t going to be a long term thing – because what would’ve been the reason of going to college? But it was nice for at least 3 years. And I still play pretty regularly; just now it’s not my only source of income. When I make money playing, great, when I lose it, oh well. It’s not like I’m playing to live now.

Another quote that sticks out from Rounders is when Knish says to Mike, “You’re making a run at it aren’t you? Rolling up a stake and going to Vegas”. This line has been playing over and over in my head since about May. Even though I thought it was “heading” instead of “going”. But the internet says, “going”. And I can’t get it to go away. It’s still playing in my head right now. (The “heading” version) And it’s not that I’m annoyed. I love it, in fact.

Here’s the thing: It’s not poker. It’s the stock market. I increased the line of credit on our house and I’m betting the house (literally) that I can make at least some extra money in the market on top of what I’m currently making at my job.

I wanted $100K. I’ve gone in with a friend and we’re splitting it right down the middle. I don’t feel ready to handle $100K worth of risk. But for some odd reason, I felt $50K was the right amount. Double the amount required to day trade and just enough to not end up going bankrupt if I lose it. Enough to make a decent amount of money over a year. Enough money to where a 10% gain isn’t chump change – to me at least.

And it’s funny. Because everything I’ve read about the market so far and building the bankroll in order to trade says, “Don’t finance the money you trade with. Don’t trade with money you can’t afford to lose”.

But for some reason, I know that losing might happen. And I’m ok with that. I think everyone says not to play with borrowed money because if you’re playing with borrowed money you’re more than likely a bit older than me and have less time ahead of you to make a comeback if you in fact lose.

And that was the beauty for me. For those of you questioning my actions – this huge risk I am taking on, just hear me out. I am young enough to pay off any debt that I might incur because of this. Yes. It might hurt. We have plenty of debt right now, and it hurts a lot. In fact, we’ve got negative cash flow until at least next February. Yes, believe it or not, we are spending more money than we make. But that’s just because we financed everything. No interest financing is the best – and in case you were wondering about that too: We financed $10K in upgrades to an investment property that we bought. So no. We are not dumping our money in to a depreciating asset. Thanks for asking and possibly assuming though.

I’ve just been thinking a lot lately – that the truly wealthy see opportunities and they take advantage of them. They apply their talent at the right moment and they never once look back. While the other 98% of the population grumbles every morning having to wake up, drive to work in order to pay the bills and feed the kids. Actually scratch that. I think a lot of people out there think that there’s just no other way. You work, and hopefully you save enough to retire. There is only one way to make money…I suppose luckily for the rest of us we realize there are plenty of ways to make money. They just require the extra time and effort outside of work.

One of my dreams is to work for fun. And work because I want to. So I want to get ahead. Yesterday I wanted to get ahead. The day before that I should’ve been far enough ahead that yesterday I could’ve maybe taken a little break since I was already ahead. Can you tell I’m impatient when it comes to this stuff?

And the reason I wrote this post tonight is because I just finished watching Say Anything, which I admit I thought was a great movie. The writing between the two love birds along with it being taped in Seattle made it perfect for me. Near the end of the movie, Diane turns to Lloyd (WTF Lloyd? I guess the name fit him though) and she says, “Nobody thinks it will work, do they?”. And he looks at her and says, “No. You just defined every great success story”.

So I’ve got $50K to play with. Since April 2006 I’ve made a 34% return in my retirement accounts. And since I was able to do that, I figured I could apply the same sort of strategies to my real trading account.

And this Friday marked day 2. I’ve had $50K of my own property’s equity floating out on the stock market for 2 days. And although I feel like I’m jinxing myself (mainly since the market has had it’s largest sell off in 5 years over the past 3 days) in 2 days I’ve made almost ten thousand dollars. A ~20% return in 2 days. It’s not realistic at all. And it doesn’t feel real. Until I have the cash in hand – heck it may even be in my bank account this coming Wednesday if I were to withdraw the money and pay back my share of the loan – but it still wouldn’t be real to me.

And I knew how I was going to do it. And it worked almost to perfection. If I had made $4K more I would’ve been out of my mind. That’s the number I was really shooting for. But because of the market sell off I fell a little bit short of what I was hoping to make. In 2 days.

But that’s what I love about these zero sum games. Poker and the market. Now I understand that both of these might not be considered zero sum games…but I like to think of them as such. It really helps with the mindset.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zero-sum

For me, I’ve found that poker has a lot more randomness involved in it than the market does (at least I’ve yet to see the 7 of spades hit on the river for the other guy to hit the inside higher straight flush when all he’s got is the 8 of spades in his hand…over my straight flush in the market) but I’m still new to it all and sopping up as much information as possible. (Constantly reading up about it, talking about it and getting ideas from so many sources). I am a very “results oriented” type when it comes to money. I believe everyone should be paid based on output and merit. And poker and playing the market gives me that. They reward for good and smart play. They punish mistakes and crush you even further if you’re not paying attention and miss all the signs.

So really, that’s it. That’s what I’ve been wanting to write about for 2 months. And it was jumbled and I didn’t really make any of the points I wanted to strong enough…or maybe the better word I should’ve used is “eloquently” - but they’re there.

I’ve been very scared and very stressed about this whole ordeal. For a little over 3 weeks my right eye was twitching. And I know it’s a heck of a risk taking this large of a shot. But at least now I’ve got some breathing room. I’m extremely interested to see where I go from here and I promise to be content as long as I’m not losing any money. Hopefully someday I’ll roll up my stake and head to Vegas again too, maybe next time with some real cash to burn.

Rando Notes for July "Oh" Seven

I know.

I know that you’ve been dying for one of these. Well maybe not you specifically. Maybe you haven’t been following along. But if I know like I should, literally I think maybe five people follow what I write. So to those five out there, what you’ve been missing for the past two months…my lovely rando posts where I let my ADD run wild on MSFT Word to your moms I came to drop bombs I got more rhymes than the bible got psalms.

I don’t feel like notating each new point with a dash. So for this post I will just separate them by spaces. Here we go…

In the summer of 2005 I got sun burnt. At the time, I was shaving my head with the 1/8” guard (I believe the smallest guard I have available on my trusty Remington) so of course my scalp got burnt too. Embarrassed I avoided wearing black or dark colored shirts. Why? My scalp began to peel in nasty little dry skin increments – shut up I couldn’t find a better word for it. Since those days in 2005 I have used a dandruff preventing shampoo, T-Gel by Neutrogena. Even though it wasn’t even dandruff to begin with. And I didn’t even have dandruff nor have I ever had it. For those of you who disagree, my head was more than likely peeling at the time. I have never had dandruff since. But the funny thing is? I am afraid to switch back to some other shampoo. Pert, head and shoulders, even Michelle’s girly stuff I am afraid to go to for more than one day in fear of seeing that one flake again on my shoulder. When I go on vacation and use the hotels shampoo (that doesn’t even foam WTF?) I am scared I will return home with dandruff. Sometimes you just get used to a product and you just continue to go with it. Other times you continue to go with a product out of fear of the unknown.

Flying a redeye for more than 2 hours by yourself has to be one of the loneliest experiences in the human life. Well maybe I’m exaggerating that. But if you’ve got any luck like me you’ll get placed next to the huge black guy that falls asleep immediately then starts snoring and then across the aisle from you will be the nursing mother whose baby obviously hates to fly. Now, I’ve never flown a redeye by myself. But I have flown by myself before. And I did alright. But knowing how I’d feel in that dark cabin, surrounded by strangers, me and my ipod and book…cramped in that confined space with recycled air…The thought alone makes me kind of sick. And for me, I think that is the ultimate loneliness. I felt that; sometimes in the city during one of those summers that I basically lived alone. Being surrounded by so many people, but not knowing one lick about any of them. And most of them feeling the same way you do…maybe you just ignore everyone else and they won’t bother you. I hope they get the fact that I’m buried in my book and rocking out to my music that they won’t ask me anything.

Because maybe the big fear is that people can’t carry on a conversation for more than 10 minutes. Ever had to have a conversation 1 on 1 with someone for more than 10 minutes? Someone you don’t know? It’s hard. And on a plane you really just can’t get up and walk away. That is your seat.

I wish there was a way we could just say to another person, “No offense, but I’d like this conversation to end and I’d like you to think good thoughts of me”. That would be such a life saver in those situations. I’d love to use that line at work too. Maybe we could come up with some sort of hand signal for it? Maybe?

I think that these rando posts are so good for me because first of all, I’m very scatterbrained. And second of all, I day dream a lot. And not necessarily about unrealistic things either. About simple things like that hand signal I previously mentioned that would mean, “Ok, I’m done talking now”.

Ever since moving up to the 2^nd floor in my building there has only been one thing I’ve loved about it. And that sadly enough is: the men’s bathroom. And it’s not even the bathroom itself. It’s the door to the men’s bathroom. Somehow, the men’s bathroom door handle got broken – I’m assuming from a disgruntled 2^nd floor working male. It’s now bent so that no one ever has to touch the handle – the door is always slightly ajar. To go in you push. To leave you pull a bit. And for some reason touching wood with your fist or elbow seems much more sanitary than grabbing a metal handle with your hand. This is my OCD hard at work.

I am sadly attempting a “pho”-hawk. Yes. Pho. Well, maybe not. I am not that Asian. So we’ll leave it at “Faux”. Even though I am not French. ARG! So confusing. Let’s just say a mound of hair that comes to a point in the middle of my head. Very posh and beckish…or maybe just becks. I saw my dad’s picture from the 70s and he looked badass like Bruce Lee in his tight denim button up shirt and corduroy bell bottoms. To finish off the look? Hair almost to his eyes. Now I’m pretty sure I couldn’t pull the look off. But I’m going to at least try. For a few months while I grow my hair out it’ll be in that weird point where it’s not too long and it’s not too short. And I hate to gel my hair so it’ll just look like I just rolled out of bed every day. Not that it already didn’t look like that.

I take off my wedding ring every now and then. When my fingers are skinny enough to take it off. When I’m doing yard work, working out, taking a shower, or even when sleeping. I guess sometimes I feel more comfortable, or “hand agile” when I don’t have it on. But sometimes I forget it. I leave it in the car after going to the gym. I leave it at home when I go to work. And I freak. I freak out for hours. I know exactly where it is, but I know that one of these days when I know exactly where it is, it won’t be there. And on that day is when I’m going to get castrated. I should just not run the risk and wear it all the time. I should. I love operative words.

It being almost August, I should really start on my marathon training. It is one of my new year’s resolutions, so I should really at least complete half of them. I’m worried though because of my shin. Randomly it’ll just start hurting. I promise I will go get it checked out. And I promise to run less hills than I was running in the past. They say you need 16 weeks to train for a marathon. Guess what? This weekend marks the start of week 1 of 16. And I haven’t gone to see the podiatrist yet. I should’ve done that last month. I should’ve.

New friends are good. However, it’s a complete feeling out process for the first few months. You have no idea where you stand with the others, and if you get a little bit too comfortable it might get uncomfortable. Sometimes I wonder about groups of friends. I have a hard time hanging out with one person from a group of friends, however when the group is together I feel just fine. Of course I could look deeper in to this, but I’m not going to.

Cutting your toenails is so weird. Think about the position you sit in when you cut your toenails. Some people do it ass on the ground, toes pointing away from them, chin on knee, arms reaching out, one to stabilize the toe and the other to cut. Sometimes I sit in a chair and cross my legs like a man (this is stupid, but I can cross them like a woman too) – but cross them a little bit further. Other times I do the same thing, but sit Indian style while on the floor. I was thinking about people who are very flexible. Or even contortionists. I bet they have a much easier time cutting their toe nails. In fact, I would wager that their feet are better cared for than an un-flexible person like myself since I’m sure they spend more time with their feet…closer to the proximity of their face at least. Or at a minimum they have the ability to just reach out and touch them at any point. Speaking of cutting your nails, I make it a point to cut my right nails first, since my left hand isn’t as skilled with the nail clippers – or skilled in general as my right hand. Therefore, I’m always leaving the easy stuff for last.

Nike’s Dri-Fit clothing is my favorite stuff right now. I just bought another shirt and I love it. The only down side about them is I “nip-out” in them. Because the fabric is so thin that you can see my giant pointy nipples. I heard that in the UK the longer your nipples are the sexier. Probably not true at all. Probably someone just making fun of me. And then when I got to the UK I’d just want to move back after they laughed at my long nipples. Yes, they are long. Freaking glass cutters. Anyway, Nike: Please make me an entire wardrobe based off of your Dri-Fit material. I am willing to pay a good amount. I understand that you make dressy golf polos, but where are the socks and pants? Some of us work during the day too. We can’t all be playing sports all the time.

I love Jim Cramer. He is on CNBC and is a stock guru. At first I was very skeptical of what he did. But now that I’m almost finished with “Real Money” and I’ve watched more of his show, “Mad Money”, I find him to be completely entertaining while he educates. I didn’t really want to pump him in my rando post, but I didn’t also want to spend 3 pages pumping him either. So here’s what you get President of Cramerica. A paragraph. You’ve helped out a lot of us little guys immensely. I hope to see your show still on in at least 3 years. I was planning on buying a bobble head for my desk because I don’t think many people know who he is at my work. And being “in the know” vs. people who have no idea what you’re talking about is an awesome feeling. Kind of like acorn socks.

Some POW (Pearls of Wisdom – Old school) from my Ninong Ramon from this weekend: “The large print giveth and the small print taketh away”. “Don’t work hard for your money, make your money work hard for you”. Words of advice from one of the richest people in my extended family. Not very helpful – since I knew this stuff already, but still from someone who’s been there done that – I’m not going to stop him if he wants to lend a guiding hand.

I am worried about earthquakes. So much so that I might call our insurance company tomorrow and see how much earthquake insurance is. Recently, there was a large earthquake in Japan, and within 3 days there was one in Oakland. For some reason I felt it was moving up the coast – and in all honesty I think the “big one” if we ever have it, could destroy this region. Seattle is built on top of old Seattle. Everything would crumble. And if I don’t have earthquake insurance, this investment that I’m sitting on right now could be worth nothing. Just thinking about what would happen if a huge earthquake hit us scares the heck out of me. It could possibly cripple all of Seattle. I am thinking Katrina-like disaster here…would we all end up in Vancouver BC or Portland? Would there be a mass exodus from Seattle while it was getting rebuilt? Could people ever come back to this area if they had lost loved ones? There are so many questions I’ve thought about because I honestly think we’ll have the big one soon here. And I’ve been through 2 puny earthquakes in my lifetime, and each time I was just amazed at how unprepared we all were…what makes me think we’ll do any better when something of real magnitude hits us…I’m not really sure how I’m going to end that sentence. Regardless, I hope/pray it doesn’t come within my lifetime. But just seeing that large earthquake in Japan followed by the one in Oakland just made me open my eyes a little bit to the possibility…Sometimes I feel like I can be lulled in to a sense of security when nothing bad happens for awhile…If earthquake insurance is $200 or less than it’ll be worth it for me. I should call…should.

Bare Buns Fun Run 2007

I streaked up Tiger Mountain with hundreds of other people.

And I was sober.

I got 3^rd place in the 20-29 group. I have no idea how I did that.

And it was awesome.

I’ve never felt so physically self-conscious and then within an hour felt completely fine.

And I was getting burnt.

The run was the hardest 5K I’ve ever done. Literally half of the run was basically straight uphill.

And I was tired.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. The nudist colony is definitely all older people.

And it’s too bad more young people aren’t as comfortable with their bodies. Or maybe they just didn’t know about it?

It was a lot of fun. I’m not sure if I’d ever do it again.

And an old fat woman wanted me to come back next year and the year after that. Gross.

Side story: One girl wrote on her body, “Happy Birthday!”. When asked who’s birthday it was, she replied, “It’s EVERYONE’S birthday! We’re all wearing our birthday suits!”

Totally weird, totally out there and at the same time totally refreshing. But not in the sweaty balls type refreshing.

It’s almost unfortunate that the weirdest day of this summer has now come and gone. Like all new experiences, the hours flew by.

I wanted to keep this short. I wanted to write down that I did it. Obviously I’ve got the shirt and 3^rd place plaque to prove it. But if I ever make a book of my life, I wanted this to be one of the pages. It’ll be hard to forget for sometime.

Now what next…

An Open Letter To Weeds

Weeds,

This is a letter written to you, to all of you, to cease and desist.

We’ve known each other for a long time. Back when I was 11 years old, I was introduced to your terrible attitudes, unwavering persistence and all the pain you cause. And for a time there, I didn’t mind at all. Because I was rewarded at the end of your lives. A movie. A dinner out. $10 to spend however I pleased.

But that was because my mom had experienced the hatred for too long. And had to pass that hatred along to me. For those summers, I went along with it, because Nintendo games, Magic cards and Janet Jackson’s CD can’t just wait for Christmas time. Money is something that I didn’t have, and you were part of the answer.

So I worked under the table. Pulling you. Digging you out.

Back then, my young back and arms could handle your de-beautification of our walkways and our flower beds. But today felt like the last straw.

Oh, and I know it won’t be. You thought you were getting off that easy? Maybe after two summers of experiencing my wrath you thought I would give up?

I know you’ll be back for more. And when you are, I’ll be just as unready and unwilling as I was today.

Now, the reward at the end of pain is gone. The only satisfaction I get from tearing your little legs out of the ground is just that. Knowing that in your little weed like ways, you’re screaming. But I can’t hear you. I can only hear the cool breeze on my neck while I think to myself, “Yeah! WHAT! Don’t you be comin’ back around now ya hear?” While I wrap both of my hands around your leaves and rip you apart. Piece by innocent piece.

And don’t think I don’t see your little white roots you weeds. Just like the snake – you only chop part of it off, it’ll grow back. No. I am going to dig my fingers in to the ground until I get every last inch of you. And yes, that’s you flying across the yard in to the blackberry bushes. To be strangled by thorns thrice your size or picked up by a bird and used to create a nest. I hope they shit on you. Oh, and make room for your mom, dad, and all your little brothers and sisters – your cousins too. Just like you did, they will all fall.

The weed and feed seems to be working somewhat. Or maybe it was that dry scorching heat that I haven’t given you any reprieve for. But today, you were easy. You were enjoyable. The ground couldn’t hold you down. It became dust. And I bet you saw that bag of fertilizer and thought that it meant that we were going to be feeding you. My my, were you ever so wrong. You browned out while my beautiful lush, green and controlled grass grew up strong all around you.

And what did you do? You tried your best to spread – to crawl like the coward you are. But you didn’t make it far enough, fast enough. And now you’ll be like a broken branch. Or the bones of someone 4 times my age. Dried, brittle and praying that God have mercy on your soul when you meet him.

For you, I can’t say. But for now, you’ve got at least 2 more months of scorching hot hell while you lay atop the canopy of what real plants should look like. I hope you serve as an example for your brethren. But you’re like me, I understand. You’re stubborn. And really, I know you can’t read so I have no idea how this letter will affect you at all.

But if could read this - just know for now. If you’re looking for a death wish, please be my guest and stop by. I promise I’ll make your stay as uncomfortable as possible. Just make it easy on both of us and die from fear.

Your death dealer and sworn life enemy,

Seth

The Losing Streak

Being the competitive person I am; I cannot win at all things, all the time. It wouldn’t be a competition if I didn’t lose some of the time. In fact, I consider myself a winner even though I’ve probably only won 60% of the things I normally compete in.

However, sometimes it gets out of hand.

Usually, it isn’t that bad. Maybe a week or two, and I’ve even experienced a little bit longer than a month long losing streak, but this one has become unbearable.

As of today, July 2^nd, 2007, I am currently looking at a losing streak of 2 months. Since the beginning of May I have lost everything I have played. I can’t win. I can’t piece it together. This is the worst losing streak I have ever experienced I believe in my entire life. I mean, sure I’ve been part of teams that have been defeated – as in didn’t win one game. But that was just one team. In other aspects of my life I was winning. But not in this streak. This streak is attacking everything that is me.

And before I go in to detail on each portion of how I am losing, I’d just like to talk about everything that goes with losing. Especially mentally and physically. Because I know these things about myself – but in order to change then – I’m not sure how to do so at this point.

And the reason I’m writing this? Is because until next Monday (unless something competitive arises before then – which I’m sure it will) I am on break from my current “major” sports right now: Softball and Basketball. The other reason was that I was part of a weekend – yesterday and the day before it – that basically solidified it’s standing of the worst losing streak I have ever experienced. Thank goodness for the holiday week and everyone wanting to take this week off. I’m not sure if I could take the beating any longer.

For those of you who have never experienced a losing streak – lucky for you. But for those of you who have, let me share part of what my experience is like. My whole mentality changes when I realize I’m in the midst of a streak. The realization starts about 3-4 days in after the initial loss.

Typically the first loss is the hardest one. Either an embarrassing blow out or a heart breaking buzzer beater defeat with the whole team riding on your shoulders to make that shot. It sticks with you. It keeps you up at night. If I had caught that ball we would’ve been going to the championship game. It angers you the next day at work. People on the team are nice to you, and nice to each other, but everyone knows who screwed up. And even then, it might not even be me. (I will admit to it being my fault that I let my entire team down in certain games – they still haunt me to this day).

But that mentality starts to drag on you. The next game you play you try extra hard not to screw up, but instead you just screw up worse. Things that came natural when you were not in your losing streak you are now fumbling with. Adjusting mechanics. Over thinking everything. Not being calm enough to wait back on that pitch…suddenly the basketball court is a foreign place to you and you feel completely lost.

You start every game expecting to lose. You know the refs and umps and everyone else and their mom is against you winning this game. You start to ask yourself what’s the point of even trying anymore – then it happens. The shoulders start to slump. The eyes glaze over. That competitive, passionate fire? Gone. And other players like yourself who can see this eat it up. They notice your body language and they start to dominate.

For me, it’s been one long swing of momentum all the way down to the sewer.

And the worst part of it is? The impending doom. You might be winning by a ridiculous amount. 12 points with 3 minutes to go in the game in basketball. 4 run lead at the bottom of the 7^th with no men on. 2^nd place in chip count with 7 people left before you’re in the money. A two touchdown lead with 7 minutes to play.

And then you start to feel it. The other team starts to surge. Suddenly shots that weren’t going in all game are now swishing from NBA range. You’ve got bases loaded from a single followed up by 2 back to back walks and now their two power hitters are up. You go card dead or start to play reckless. That long hailmary pass freakishly tips off of your fingers and in to your opponents for the touchdown. You let off the gas because you figure you’ve got the game in the bag.

It becomes a blur. The moment at which you can stick the dagger in to finish off your opponents is there for your taking but the killer instinct just isn’t kicking in. You frantically search for it and by the time you find it you’re looking up and the clock is reading 0:00. The ump is calling “Game”. People on the other team are high-fiving and not believing that they pulled off the comeback. And you’re shaking your head and wondering what just happened. What went wrong? And on your way home in your car you question everything. You try to find where you could’ve done better. And you promise yourself for next week you’ll do better.

And usually, you do. You do fine.

But not now. Not these past 2 months for me.

After starting the season with 4 straight wins, my basketball team has dropped 6 in a row. We have not changed the roster, I have not seen us play any more or any less talented teams. And yet, we just couldn’t put a win together. A majority of games we were close, and then we just let it slip out of our hands. And we got embarrassed in some of the games.

Before the losing streak, my softball team was 5-2. We ended the season with 6 straight losses to end the season at 5-8 including losing the “play-in” game to the team we were tied with for 4^th place. The team we had to beat to get in to the playoffs. And we couldn’t do it. Two of the must win games in order for us to avoid this “play-in” game we lost in the bottom of the 7^th inning. In those two weeks I experienced back to back walk-offs by the other team. As a competitor it is one of the hardest things to watch another team celebrate at home plate while you wait for them to shake hands and inform them that they played a “good game”.

Because really they didn’t. They didn’t play a good game. We just let them back in when we should’ve slammed the door shut.

And I think one thing people might not realize is that there is only 1 game per week for each of these sports. So if and when I lose, I have to wait a whole week to get back out there and hopefully “redeem” myself – but for those 7 long days I basically get to stew about how poorly I played.

I’ve tried poker unsuccessfully three times during this losing streak. Out of the three times I’ve played – they’ve all been tournaments and I’ve been close in 2 of them. 7 people out of 200 close. All I had to do was sit back and wait in order to make some nice amount of cash. But instead I wanted to take everyone out. And I got greedy. This was one of those times where I had the dagger in hand and I was just trying to end it for everyone in sight. In order to shut the door multiple times you have to open it back up too. And sure enough, I was gone in 17^th place.

And what solidified the losing streak? Flag football this weekend. The guys I’ve been playing with recently are a great group. Sadly enough, I’m one of the fastest out of the group, which should give me a nice advantage in the sport and should produce wins correct? Wrong. In the two games we played on Sunday the team I was on was ahead near the end of the game. And of course in both games the other team came back and won the game. And the kicker? I even switched teams (supposedly to the other team that beat me the first game) and we still lost. Stuff like this really wears on me because I can only point to myself and say, “I must be the reason that we lost”.

The sad thing is, I don’t feel I’ve hit rock bottom yet. Because as soon as I do – there is only one place to go from there. And although some of you who may be reading this might think this post is kind of ridiculous – I think it’s ridiculous to lose at so many different things for such a long period of time. Given the law of averages you have to win at least a PERCENTAGE of the time. But over the past two months? My win percentage has been a giant goose egg.

I’m really hoping that writing it out might fix things. But I’m sure it won’t. (See? Loser’s attitude). Even if I could just win at something I put at least 80% of my effort in to I’d feel so much better. For now though, I get to rest and wait until next Monday. God, Buddha, luck…something, anything help me out here please…this might ruin my “winning” life if it continues.

"I'm Not Sure..."

A cousin of mine recently questioned of himself, “if I’m a liberal or conservative”.

Shocked, I answered his question in the best way I knew how. Assume your personal income tax rate was cut in half. And assume the same for your state wide sales tax. Feel better?

Of course you do. So that means you’re a conservative right? I was so fixated on this for the past couple of years that I kind of got rolled up under the wheels of my own train of thought.

I used to think it all didn’t matter. Abortion. Gay marriage. The Iraq “war”. Gas prices. The environment. And a number of other “issues”. They all didn’t matter because they hardly affected me. What has affected me though was my tax rate. And I thought that being conservative meant that I was paying too much for a government that did too little for me. Which meant I should pay less because the government should be able to do more with less.

I’m not sure. I thought it meant that, but then I realized we’ve had a republican dominated executive, legislative and judicial branch for how long now? And how have my taxes been affected? Not at all. No change whatsoever. Maybe for billionaires like Warren Buffet, but for me? Sure, the economy has flourished since the bust of 2001, but we’re just now reaching peaks that we were seeing in 1999-2000 (although way overvalued at the time – even in today’s market cheap debt is the wobbly 4^th leg waiting to break us).

By the way, I only know what I know. I only know what I read, I only gather what I understand and can keep, and the best I can do is spit it back out here. This is my blog. So if I’m “wrong” in anything I say, past and future, you’ll just have to deal. Leave me a comment if you feel so inclined, even one disagreeing with me! I rarely get any of them.

So realizing that, I get back to square one with what I’ve always thought. The government is too large and we need major reforms. I don’t vote because I don’t believe in our current system and I don’t think my vote would change anything. It’s selfish, but I am here to get mine, get as much of it as possible, be as happy as possible while I’m alive and hopefully look back before I die and say I lived a good life. And maybe leave enough for those after me to enjoy their lives more than I did.

And I’m sure there are plenty of blogs out there, bashing the president, bashing the system, bashing anything. But how many of them provide solutions? Great! Impeach Bush! Hey! You hate Bush too because he’s stupid? Let’s make out! Seriously.

Enough.

The more I’ve been getting in to investing I’ve realized something. For now, capitalism works. The economy works. Even with all the recent changes over the past 10 years, we still continue to drive forward. And huge, multinational corporations continue to drive us forward with growth, shareholder value and quality products all while giving to their local communities and trying to cut back on environmental impact. (Some of them at least).

For every dollar I put in to a company’s stock, I expect returns. I don’t care how they do it. I want my one dollar to be worth one dollar and twenty cents a year from now when I ask for it back. And companies give that to me. The government however? I’m just going to leave that question open ended…

Look around. If you pay 24-28% of your income to the government like I do, you are basically investing in your government. What kind of return are you getting on your money? Assuming my wife and I paid roughly $30 thousand dollars (spelled out for effect) in tax last year and only received $6 thousand dollars (20% for home gamers keeping score) back at tax return time that’s not a great return. In fact, that’s an 80% decline on my investment.

And what can I say my government gave me for the $24 thousand dollars I sank in to it? Let’s see. I got harassed by the cops a couple times this year. One even forcefully held my arm down and threatened to take me in and book me. Other than that, I got roads to drive on to my job so that the government could take that money from me. Other than that, nothing. Absolutely nothing to hang my hat on and say, “here’s what the government gave me for $24 thousand dollars in 2006”.

Enough ranting. Here is what I am getting at: The government should go public. Yes. They are already public. I understand. But instead of having thousands of corporations traded on daily basis on NASDAQ, NYSE, AMEX, etc. let’s create a National Stock Exchange. (Not saying we should get rid of the other markets). Each country will be valued on their GDP, and the top 10 countries can set average earnings per share rates/expectations quarter over quarter and acceptable price to earnings multiples for each country. Because really, isn’t that what it’s about? After the world wars, the true battlefield became the business world? We’re not going to continue to be the “#1 country in the World” if we continue down this path.

What would change if we implemented this? (It will never happen, but just let me dream and run through my theory). The government would move to being run like the largest corporation in the United States. When they weren’t creating shareholder value for its investors (us – and those across the world interested in making returns) they would slash and burn and cut the fat just like all good companies do.

It would drive down margins. Why do I want a job with the state? Because state workers are lifers. You get in, you’re set. They pay a 10-30% premium in salary in comparison to the corporate world. And the benefits? Fantastic! Guess what? That’s all of OUR tax money…our investment being wasted. Not anymore in my fantasy world.

All of those “paper pushers” that have been doing their jobs for 20 years and are 5 years away from an excellent government pension? Not anymore. Sorry Jane, looks like little Bobby is going to have to finance his MBA instead of having mommy pay for it. We’re moving your job to India, because guess what? We get labor there at 1/10^th the price we’re paying you, and they’re 5 times more willing to do it. They don’t get sick. They don’t take vacation, and best of all? We don’t have to pay the ridiculous amount of real estate costs to have your body sit here and push paper for us anymore! Well maybe that’s not the best of it but enjoy early retirement, and make sure to bring in that home made ice cream cake we all love for your last day.

I know. It’s mean. It’s a bit over the top. But really, this is how the world of publicly traded companies works. Across the hall from me, plenty of people were informed that mid-July would be their last day with the company. Some who have been with the company for years and have mouths to feed and a mortgage to pay. Well guess what. If this company didn’t survive? None of us would be eating or paying our mortgages. Oh and if those people wanted to stay with the company? Reapply. Prove to us you’re worth it. You might not be. We’re barely surviving as it is, let alone it still could get worse…

Shit would get done. Fat would get cut, and thousands of people would lose their jobs. It wouldn’t cost $650 to replace a toilet seat. It would cost $21 from Lowe’s and they would install it for us (our country). Suddenly large scale projects done by the government in your area would be finished ahead of schedule and within budget. Millions, possibly billions would be saved. We could rid ourselves of so many archaic processes for automation. Hell, every company in the world moves towards faster, smarter work. Why not our government? Oh that’s right, we don’t want to lose the cushy legislative job that pays $200 thousand dollars a year to the ivy league graduates so that they can show up fifty two days a year to “represent us”. No! What about Senator so and so’s country club membership! What would he do without it!

…

Shit would get done. Repeated for effect. Cheaply, more efficiently, and with better management. Because there is no way in hell we are letting the US stock drop below the EU or China’s. I don’t want to have to move my money out of this country. And I don’t want our country to be de-listed or go bankrupt. I am an investor in our country along with everyone else paying their taxes, and we should see solid returns on our investment if nothing else.

And all that savings? We’d pass to along to you. Just like Wal-Mart destroys its competitors by using razor thin margins, the US would dominate all other countries. And just like Wal-Mart rolls back its prices, we’d be rolling back the amount of tax you owed. Imagine what a 30% raise year over year could do for you!

*Sigh*

It’s nice to dream sometimes.

The Angry Kid

I’m going to go take a shower to clear my head. BRB.

Ok. I’m back. Short and simple for tonight because it’s late.

I am an angry kid. I have always been an angry kid. Growing up my parents always asked me what I was so mad about. I never really could place it. It just was the way I was. Every now and then it would rear it’s ugly head and I might get close to getting in trouble.

Or I’d just stew about it for hours, days, let it burn inside.

And honestly, I realized tonight that I lost it a bit. That burn inside of me. I got the wife, the dog, the house, the job. The stability. And all of that calmed me. A lot. Because I knew what to expect day in and day out. Nothing threw me off guard and I’ve been fortunate in the stable life so far.

My right eye has been twitching since I got home from NYC. Michelle said it’s because of the stress. I believe it. I’ve just had too many things on my plate, once again, and the supposed “fun” things are not helping me relax at all like they usually do.

Tonight during my basketball game, there was a punk ass wannabe Iverson kid who was flailing his arms around. My teammates took it. Like they should. Like I should have. But I said something to him. I wasn’t going to take the cheap holding and the show boating of this kid who was probably 5 years younger than me lightly. Finally with 30 seconds left in the game with one foul to give, I went up for a lay in and he held me down. On the way down, I pushed him with both hands. Just hard enough to let him know I wasn’t fucking around.

And of course I was out of the game. He was half my size and was just dicking with me. That was part of his game. He finds the one guy to get technicals on and rides him. Unfortunately that ass tonight was me.

But on the way home, wanting to punch my steering wheel, wanting to punch SOMETHING, I realized that there isn’t a viable outlet for kids like me. Sure, I can bitch on this blog here, but writing this out isn’t really helping, other than making me tired.

I guess that was supposed to be something I learned as I grew in to an adult? How to handle my anger in healthy ways? Everything I read about the topic is complete bullshit to me. I would honestly like to beat the shit out of any one that pisses me off. But because I can’t, I beat the shit out of punching bags.

But what happens when I don’t have a punching bag? What happens when all of those kids out there like me don’t have their outlet? I don’t even know how to answer this.

Fun, Free and Lighthearted

Ugh. I’ve had a rough day. Long week.

My call on Goldman Sachs was terrible. Sure, I made 5% until they announced earnings yesterday afternoon. All that build up for bust. The investment blog post will come later.

We lost our softball game 9-8. This could’ve clinched the playoffs for us. I put some of the onus on myself. I threw a pitch that shouldn’t have been thrown. Should’ve just walked the guy. I went 1 for 3. It was a terrible hitting night for me. I didn’t help my cause at all. My attitude was terrible all game. Much too serious, and not enough funny. We could’ve been easy sailing in to the playoffs. And now I’ve got to worry with one regular season game left.

Then, I get home only to watch the end of the finals where some jackass throws up a 3 pointer at the buzzer and hits it to destroy my two team parlay that would’ve paid me 2.5 to 1 odds with the Spurs winning by 3 (which they only won by 1) and the score being under 176.5 combined (it ended up being 165: Spurs 83, Cavs 82). What a boring series. The NBA is in crisis. Tony Parker MVP? Frenchie? Don’t you idiots know? This is the United States of AMERICA. *steams*

So that’s 3 somewhat bad things. So that’s it. I don’t have to go through anymore crap for awhile. Knowing that, I can write about something I’ve been thinking about. And that is, having a house party here.

I’ve got a few friends, a few coworkers and other acquaintances that like to drink. In fact, I know a lot of people that like to drink. The last house party I was at I believe was probably 2 years ago. And yes, I have been to parties in houses over the past 2 years. In fact, I’ve hosted a few myself. However, those are not my definition of a house party. A house party is a packed house. A place that you can’t sit because there are all these groups of people standing and chatting. The drinks are flowing, the music is loud and a few people are way too drunk to even be awake. Maybe the cops come knock on the door? Maybe.

You don’t want to stay at the house because the couch looks dirty. So you pile in to the car with 8 other people, only 2 of which you showed up with, and somehow you all get home. Don’t judge me. I’m still alive, I don’t have a DUI or a MIP. And if I did, who are you to judge? Hah – c’mon let’s keep it fun.

You might think I’m crazy to miss these parties. Maybe I am. Maybe my house might get trashed. But for this post, let me be “fun, free and lighthearted”. Because I’ve had a rough day. Ok? Thanks.

I want to have a kegger at my house. I want to have a spodie. Is that how you spell it? I want a garbage can full of liquor and fruit and I want a keg of Mac and Jack’s getting pumped on the other corner of my patio. I want hot dogs and hamburgers. I want loud music. I want shoulder to shoulder people, everyone standing around chatting and laughing. I want drinking contests.

And that’s why I’m writing. If you’re reading this, don’t worry about it. You’re invited. I’m planning it. I don’t know if e-vites are still what the deal is? I’m not sure. They seem like they’ve peaked and now suck. I want to lay some plastic down on the hard woods, set up 12 shot glasses and challenge 11 other people to the century run. I want us all standing around that island. I want designated pourers. I want it to be competitive. I want screaming.

It’s been a good 3 years since I’ve done it. And man did I do it good. Most were not able to follow in my greatness. None in fact. Some ran outside to barf. While I continued. Shot after shot after shot. And if you’re not aware of what the century run is, it is 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes. I know. It doesn’t sound like much. But it gets to you. At 54 you start to buzz. Right about when you hit 72 is when you can’t pour anymore. And at 84 your vision starts to go. At 93 you have no idea what you’re saying and you don’t even remember any of the shots past that point. Maybe you drink two more beers on top of all the shots you did? Maybe you randomly make a fool of yourself in front of a circle of people. Yeah, you probably did.

People will be surrounding me laughing. Drinking their wine. Drinking their mixed drink. Maybe we should use the blender and make Seth’s old special margaritas? It might be that kind of night. I want a night in late July or sometime in August when everyone can make it. It’ll be a no holds barred drink-a-thon. And if you’re not sure where “no holds barred” comes from or had possibly forgotten:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Holds_Barred

Maybe I’ll rent that movie and play it while we’re drinking. But play it on silent so I can rock out with my awesome music (I bet you thought I was going to say “cock out”? C’mon – not in front of all those people) that I don’t really care if everyone likes. Because who did the century run? That’s what I thought. I just want to be going for a repeat of my greatness. Sadly as it is, I am half serious. So don’t think of me as an arrogant bastard. I’m just trying to be light hearted.

I know lots of guys. We need more girls than guys though. Even though I’m married, the mix must require at least a 7:10 ratio of women to men for me to feel comfortable. And please, at least one female make the attempt at the run? Even if you make it to 32 you’ve got our respect. Otherwise we might all end up crying together in a huge sausage fest if no women make it out. And that’s why I’m cooking hot dogs and not sausage.

Thinking about planning this event is the only thing that has made my night better. That’s why I’m writing about it. Sure, I have other ideas about blog posts, and yes, I haven’t done a “rando” post in awhile, but I figured this “spur of the moment” writing might create something I might enjoy reading.

I just realized I have no idea what kind of beer I’ll buy for this. I should research. I’m currently going to google and typing in the search of “What is the best beer to use for the century run”. And for you lazy folk, I’ll just paste the first link that pops up here:

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/05/0516_050516_ancientbeer.html

Wow. A national geographic link about antibiotics. That sucks.

I guess I must have used too many words in my search.

I promise I’ll make up for only having 3 posts last month. I apologize, I was on vacation. I also promise that I’ll have a rando thoughts post up this month. My head is all sorts of jumbled right now, which will make for an excellent one of those. I don’t see it un-jumbling until February 2008. Weird that I can just say that.

For now, I feel marginally better by imagining my ridiculous party where NO ONE drives home for hours while they sober up and feel terrible. Eyes dropping, backs leaned up against the wall. Let’s all be college kids again. We deserve it. We’ve been out for too long. Don’t drink responsibly. Get shit faced.

Maybe there’s people making out in the living room? Maybe. Lucky kids. I hope I’ve got my camera on me.

What it Means to be a Man

Now that I’m 25, I’m starting to realize that my thought process on things isn’t changing much anymore. When I was younger (12-18) I let every little opinion or article or book I read affect my mood or thoughts on things.

Since about 16, I’ve slowly built my foundation with things I’ve felt were important. Things that would have other people be proud of the person – man I am – or have become.

I’m not saying it’s stopping here. I’m just saying that at this point I’ve got a list of things that I think every man should strive for. Some of them are silly and really just showcase manhood to other men, and some of them are more serious. I understand this is almost a preaching post – but don’t let it be. These are things that I think about or do in my everyday life to adhere to my own standards. I received one of the best complements the other night from my wife and it was simple: “You are a good man.”

I shoot for nothing less.

In no particular order – what it means to be a Man by me:

-For the rest of my life I plan on driving a manual. A stick shift. I don’t care if US automakers have cut production of manual cars down to 10% and shrinking. Every car I own will be a manual. And if not manual then I’ll at least have some form of electronic shifting. Driving a stick is about a few things: Control of your vehicle. Don’t let a computer do the work for you. Do the work yourself. This is about putting forth effort when it’s not really needed but it’s about respect. (More on effort and respect later).

Knowing how to drive a stick can save lives. My parents were the first to push me to drive a stick after I informed them of my desire to own one. My mom always said that in case of emergency it’s always best to know how to drive every type of car. Believe it or not, I’ve already been in a handful of situations where a friend was not able to drive (hurt leg, too drunk, too sleepy) and they drove a stick. If it wasn’t for me knowing how to drive a stick, we’d just be stuck there. Waiting for the ambulance to come. Waiting for them to sober up so they could drive. Waiting as they napped. I could go on, but I believe I already made an entire post as to why I believe automatics are for “disabled drivers”.

-Length of grass, hair, name (among other things). These three things are a direct extension of you (shutup, this is my blog). For those that own property: Take pride in your castle. The grass shows how much you care about the appearance of your home. The appearance of your life basically. The greener, the fuller, the better. Everyone knows this. Homes that have grass that has grown to become a jungle – or those that have grass with giant gaping holes in it – or have been completely browned out are just too lazy. They don’t have the time, the energy, or even possibly the know how. Lawn care is a science, and one that I will admit to not having mastered yet. Still, my lawn is above average in comparison to my neighbors. And for now, that’s good enough.

Your hair. Thanks a lot Adam Morrison/Michael Bolton/Fabio/skater guys/rocker dudes. You have all inspired some of us to grow our hair past out ears. Mullet? Cool, that’s your thing. But just mop top? No. Shave your head. What does it meant to me when I see a guy or a kid with long hair? A few things: They are lazy. They obviously don’t sweat because their hair would annoy them so much they’d just cut if off. If they do sweat all that sweat STAYS in their hair and they stink like a laundry hamper full of my socks. They’re trying to make a statement. Please – seriously the anti-establishment anarchy shit was so past decades. Find something new to bitch about – and before you do, cut your hair. They’re trying to hide something. Yes! Probably all the acne from all of your greasy hair! Maybe your giant forehead or dumbo ears? (Ok – I have these – but even still don’t have long hair). Just once in your life – buzz it all off. The freedom you feel, especially on those hot summer days I’m sure you’ll be amazed by. (Please don’t take this advice if you burn easily). Let the women have the long hair. You don’t want other men to be attracted to you…or maybe you do?

Names. I don’t care what your name is. Find some way to make it one syllable. Nobody should have to waste any more breath in getting your attention. If you require more than one syllable at the most just make it initials. There’s just something that makes me cringe when I hear names like “Bartholomew” or even “Christopher”. I know – those can both be shortened. So allow them to be. Don’t force people to call you something they don’t want to. For efficiencies sake.

-Earn enough money to pay for your life. This is self-explanatory. Nut up and get a job. I don’t care what people do as long as they make enough money to not have to mooch off friends, family or the government. See a recurring theme yet? Real men are not lazy (for very long periods of time). Therefore real men are not broke. Making more than you need? Be generous. Give back to those that gave to you. Donate money. Pay for food and drinks. Accept only thanks in return.

-Like sports. Or a sport. Real men can play at least one sport. And if you can’t play, at least try. And if you don’t want to try at least have the ability to talk about one sport. In my opinion, sports are the 2nd “go-to” conversation after the weather when dealing with another man you’ve never met before. Sometimes maybe even the first? Be prepared. Seriously it only takes an hour a week to keep up on one team. Read the local newspaper sports section. Watch an hour of ESPN. And for your health – both physical and mental – get out and play. Anything. I don’t even care if it’s badminton (which I’ve been craving to play recently). As long as you are moving, your heart rate is up, and you’re having fun – that’s what counts. So hopefully when a man you’ve never met before shakes your hand, introduces himself and you complain about the shitty weather – when he fires back with the question of, “Whoo! Did you see Lebron last night? Amazing!” You can at least reply with, “Oh yeah! Wow. I had a game like that last weekend in badminton – completely on fire, nothing could get past me”. See? Even if shuttlecock guy had no idea about Lebron or what this Lebron character did (scoring 29 of the last 30 points in a double OT superhuman finish which escalated the cavs to the NBA finals 2007) he could at least switch the topic to something sports related (important) and continue the conversation on a topic he was educated on (also very important). As a man, sports are much more important to me than I sometimes realize. And I could go of about tradition, father – son bonding, etc. But that’s all emo shit and meant for another post.

-Like beer. This just goes with sports. You can’t do shots all the time. You’ll look like the idiot at the house party of your friends when you decline the only type of drink they have at their house – instead bringing your fifth of Limon for you to shoot by yourself. Shots are meant for the club. The bar. Whisky? Ok – maybe if you’re twice my age. But I’m not. Don’t be the odd man out when everyone orders a draft and you get a vodka tonic. Toasting with other guys that are drinking beers only to sip from your straw just looks idiotic. Man up. People that say beer tastes like piss have either had a terrible prank pulled on them or have only had a minimal amount of experience with beer. Through my first month with beer I hated it. Every sip I took was bitter and I almost had to force it down. I can’t believe I was such a wimp at 18 when I had my first cup from a keg – Mac and Jacks. And now that I look back at that night – I can’t believe myself. Mac and Jacks is now one of my favorite beers (and I’m hungry right now so I actually wouldn’t mind one).

-Quit watching your weight. This has to go along with beer. A beer, or 10 beers every now and then is not that bad. Eating beef is not that bad. Men do not get fat. Except for those really obese guys. Men go from being “big” to being “obese”. There is no in between. Remember, you are a man. For you, it is ok to be overweight. Have a belly. Sure as a woman you’d be frowned upon and be a total mess anytime you went to the mall shopping for clothes – but as a man we’ve got sizes to fit you. XXL. And all that loose clothing hides any rolls you might have too. So be a man – don’t be ashamed that you’re 40 pounds overweight. Opt for the prime rib instead of the salad. Have a beer or two to wash it down. And then go play your sport of choice (curling for my Canadian pals) to burn it all off.

-Be strong. Physically and mentally. For those that are close to you – be their rock. Be their foundation. If there is one defining feature about real men that I’ve seen it’s that they are so strong in these aspects. As far as the physical side is concerned – men should be able to lift someone three-quarters their own weight (assuming lifting a significant other) a minimum of 30 yards, or be able to hold them while treading water (all for safety purposes). The mental strength is obviously more important then. When instability surrounds mentally strong men they raise their heads and accept the challenges that life presents them. People look to them for strength in their times of need. And even though it may be hard to present that side at the toughest times in life – this is when it is needed most. As I mentioned previously – be the rock that everyone can rely upon. Be the light that leads everyone through that dark tunnel and when you get through to the other side you’ll have everyone’s love, respect and admiration.

-Some forms of chivalry are not dead. I agree that in modern relationships, there has to be some sort of compromise. Dinner, movie, and drinks are just too expensive for a man to be constantly paying for – especially if the couple has been together for a longer period of time. One of chivalry’s definitions is, “Courtesy towards women”. People only say that it has died because men no longer adhere to such strict standards as they had even 5 decades ago. Figure out how you think a woman should be treated and set yourself at a step above that. Seriously though? I only open doors for all women, and try my best not to be gross when I’m around them.

-Do not ever hit a woman – unless given the proper circumstances. And by proper circumstances I will allow these few exceptions: Love taps. Random “slug bug” games (what happened to these? And corners? These have to make comebacks). A boxing match for entertainment. Your life is being threatened by a weapon. Or possibly limbs or other extremities? The woman you are hitting is your sister. Please provide your own examples of hilarity here as the rule does not apply universally (obv).

On a more serious note - if any of you ever catch another man truly hitting a woman - this man needs a proper beat down. Apply it thoroughly and make sure he remembers what it feels like to really get hit.

I have more definitions of what is required of men – however this post is getting a bit long winded and its late now. Remember this list is always evolving, and hopefully in 5 years I’ll be able to tell you what it means to be a man at 30. So I’ll finish what I consider an unfinished list with this final standard:

-Love and respect your family and friends. They did more to shape who you are as a man than you may not ever realize. And for that you owe them more than just love and respect. You owe them everything.

Happiness Defined

Reading over my past few posts – I’ve noticed I’ve been in a bit of a rut, they’ve been pretty boring, and depressing at times.

I wanted to write this earlier, but I was on vacation. A much needed vacation. I hadn’t taken one day off (other than normal company holidays) since the honeymoon.

The trip was to DC and NYC. Leaving on a midnight flight from Seatac to JFK, and then connecting.

I was going to see my best friends. My family. My home. Home is where we are, and when we are together everything is the way it should be.

After spending a few amazing days seeing the sights and partying in DC, we left on the 5 hour bus ride for NYC.

The bus ride was great. Most comfortable I felt traveling anywhere in a long time. The bus wasn’t sold out which gave me the ability to place my luggage on the seat next to me. Had my head phones on, Cramer’s “Real Money” book, and was falling in and out of consciousness while I caught up on some much needed rest. The 5 hours flew by. Brand new green leaves were flying by too. Traffic was nonexistent. The curves were gentle. The sun was out, but not shining in my eyes at all.

Coming out of sleep, I realized how close we were to the city. Suddenly I could see the Statue of Liberty. And then it hit.

Jamie Cullum. Song after song. “All at sea”, “High and Dry” and “Frontin’”. You know those points where the perfect song comes on and just fits your mood? I don’t really care if the lyrics fit much – but the feeling was there. We drove by and in to the city.

“All at Sea” fits perfectly because of all the water I could see surrounding the Statue of liberty. All the water that we drove by when getting to the port authority. Everyone rollerblading, biking and running, the sun shimmering off their skin like it did off the surface of the water.

“High and Dry” fits so well because of one line: “It’s the best day you have - ever had”. And if you’ve never heard this song, please get it as soon as possible. It’s almost as if nothing can go wrong in life when you’re listening to this song. We passed a dog park and a soccer game out of nowhere. More people enjoying life and enjoying the sun.

“Frontin’” sounds like the city to me. So busy. So much life. Energy. That was what you feel when you visit NYC. Is this abundance of energy everywhere you went. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was because I was surrounded by people. Maybe it was because I was among my best friends.

Maybe it was because for a moment in time, I was able to let this feeling wash over me – just let go of anything that was weighing me down – and define it as “happiness”.

That was one hell of a vacation.

Sunday Night Blues – melancholy

You know, you build and build and build at something for so long – and then when you get there, sometimes it’s kind of just anticlimactic. For the past few months, I’ve been working hard to get in shape, and to pass the A+ test.

Well, I’ve done both, but gone halfway. Ideally I wanted to lose 10 pounds. I lost 5. I wanted to pass the A+ test which is made up of the hardware exam and the operating system exam. I passed hardware.

I wanted to prove to myself that I could be dedicated for long enough that I could it harder and better (that’s what she said) than those before me. My coworker took a year to study and barely passed. I kind of laughed at him because I figured I was more dedicated than him and could focus and study harder than he did and then pass. I was literally 1 or 2 questions away from passing. 30 points on a 900 point test. And that’s what stings. He took a year – I took 2 months and 12 days.

And the silly thing is? I’ve got all the time in the world to do this. Why I pushed myself so hard over the past few months to accomplish these goals, I’m not sure. The long term is the very long term. And the test (these specific tests) will be waiting for me whenever I want to take them. There was no need to rush. It was that stupid competitive side coming out again. Competing with no one but myself – my will power.

And look at me now. Today was my first day “off”. I figure I’ll let myself rest a bit because it started to catch up to me. I was “burning the candle at both ends”. And by that last week – this past week – I couldn’t handle it. I literally gave up on 1) Working out and 2) Studying. I think maybe I just made that “final push” 1 week too early? Or maybe all that pushing ended up knocking me over steps from the finish line?

Regardless – with hours of time available to me today and nothing to do – I felt uncomfortable. After a few “hard core” months of working at a few things – I didn’t know what to do with myself. Suddenly the urge to study or work out – or that cloud that has hung over my head the past few months – wasn’t there anymore. And the weird thing was – I felt awkward as myself, which is just hard to explain.

I kept saying, “Oh man, I can’t wait until I’m done with this test. I’m just going to sit back, relax, don’t worry about a thing”. Maybe it’s too early now to feel that way? Maybe it’s like that first week of summer all over again – you know that week or couple of weeks you take right at the beginning of summer to get used to the notion that all the time in the world is yours – you don’t have to go back to school on Monday. That first weekend – you realize that on Monday you don’t have to go back. You don’t have any homework or projects that are going to be graded. And for me, it always took a couple Mondays – and finally around July 4^th is when I used to get in to the “summer groove”.

Finally, I realized that I could just “hang” and watch the days fly by doing whatever I wanted to until Labor Day rolled around again and it was time to head back to school. I wanted so badly to relax today. The best I got was a 20 minute nap. I sat down at my computer and just stared blankly at the web. I did it twice today. Only two days ago, I would’ve done things with a purpose. Check email for 5 minutes. Done with email? On to studying.

But today was – check email for 10 minutes. Stare blankly at the screen. Go shopping online – with no intention to buy. Look out the window at the pond. Gloomy day out. Wish it would rain. Glad I mowed the lawn yesterday. 45 minutes until we have to go to dinner. I wish I had gone to the gym. But I’m too lazy to shower again. And then by the time I’m out of the shower we’re going to be leaving again anyway. *sigh*

Maybe it was too much for me to handle recently? The load was too great? Now I’m burnt? I was getting shit done though. That’s what was great about it. It’s like there’s a point where I’ve got enough things on my plate that I can barely control what’s going on – at that point is where I apply the most effort. Every hour of every day is spent thinking about what needs to be accomplished. Plans for free time are made well in advance. Because if there’s only one smaller goal I’m trying to accomplish – it’ll forever get put on the back burner. I’ll get around to it when I feel like it. No sense in even wasting time thinking about it now…

The cursor is just blinking at me. I can’t even think of anything else to write.

I’ll pass the operating system portion of the test in a month. I just need to focus on that section – and it’ll be over and done with in no time. But it’s just crazy – all this work – all of what will be 3+ months so I can add something to my resume? What is 4 years of college? 2 lines on my resume? No – it was more than that – mainly it was the memories. But for this test? It was an hour reading every night before bed. It was those hours that I devoted to studying those weekends.

That was all kinds of hell – but now that I’m without it – now that I should be resting and enjoying life and thinking everything is ok – I’m not. In some sick, twisted way – I miss the pressure. I wonder if there is terminology for this state of mind. I’d almost go as far to say that it is cathartic – I put myself through these things to push myself – to test how far or how strong my will is.

This is getting kind of out of hand? I ask that question because I’m not sure. I’m not even sure why it’s the Sunday Night Blues as the title. Because I think I’ll change it to melancholy. That’s what I’m looking for.

I almost expected to be sitting here like this, a month ago – feeling this way. A self-fulfilling prophecy.