• Snuggling up with my self-righteousness.

    I think it is simply precious that I am typing this entry at the last minute, given my conversations with a coworker this week. On more than one occasion, I found my self almost bragging that I was able to do certain things I enjoy by carefully budgeting my time. Now picture me sitting up past my bed time, in part because the bug to write took it’s time biting, and because tomorrow morning is my self imposed deadline for writing this thing. Sitting here typing this, I can’t help but laugh at myself. If all of this seems absurd to me, one can only imagine how it sounds to someone else.

  • Doing Disney in the cold.

    Well, we went back. I have just one thing to say about this trip. Oh yeah, don’t you wish.
    Actually, I enjoyed this trip as much as any other trip to the Orlando area. It began with a reunion with a friend from high school and college. I had thought about the possibility of meeting ever since we got our seasonal passes to Disney delight, but I hadn’t done anything beyond thinking about it until a couple of weeks ago. Cheryl had been planning this particular trip for a couple of months now and I had been looking forward to the opportunity to stay on the Disney property. Hey, what the heck, I hadn’t stayed on the property before and I was game for a new experience. Anyway, I was daydreaming about my upcoming trip when it occurred to me that I could put the two together. After trading messages for a week, we met at Epcot on the day of our arrival. The meeting was everything I hoped it would be. We reminisced and we caught up. The only problem was it was too short. As night fell on that first day the temperature dropped considerably. It didn’t climb significantly for the entire trip. And do you know what? It was great. A blast of extremely cold weather (for Florida) was just what I needed. No matter how long we spent at the park, I had a spring in my step. Beth kept right on going until she just about fell unconscious in her tracks each night. Each day we hopped from park to park, hitting the attractions that we had missed on prior trips. The first two days we ended up at Epcot for dinner, and we went all out. As a child, meals at an amusement park consisted of hot dogs, hamburgers and pizza. This time we ate at the fancy restaurants, and it was very good. And oh was it expensive. Now I know why we ate hot dogs, hamburgers, and pizza as kids. Having done it, I have no regrets. It was a great trip.

  • This is my life.

    Who among us feels safe revealing ourselves to others? My guess is, not many. Why then do I feel so uninhibited in that regard? Is it odd? First, I would like to clear one thing up: I’m not talking about revealing myself in a physical sense. Some metaphors should never be encouraged, especially those that may give the wrong idea. I would no sooner physically reveal myself in public than soak my hair in acetone and put a match to it. And just to be absolutely clear, I am neither a masochist nor pyromaniac. No, I’m taking about something that is perhaps even more intimate: revealing who I am and what I think. It seems like many people go around denying who they are to themselves, meanwhile I’m telling everyone I talk to. Pity the person who asks me “how are you doing?” at work. What was probably meant as a casual greeting is met with way more honesty than many can deal with on a Monday morning. I saddle my coworkers with any and every issue in my life, and I do it without shame. It’s not just my coworkers, I don’t know why I’m singling them out. It’s everyone I have more than a passing acquaintance with. I get this sense that I’m giving way more information than they wanted, but then I go on anyway. Do you know what the irony of all this is? I don’t consider myself an outgoing person. I meet new acquaintances with anxiety, with an unhealthy need to impress. Is my self esteem really that low? And here I am, pouring this out for anyone to read. Not that there is much danger that I will suffer to much exposure here. Anyway, here I am, wrapped up nice and warm in my own contradictions. I tell myself that I don’t really care what you think, but the reality is that I probably care a little too much.

    . . . or have I typed all of this just because I like the rhythm of my fingers dancing on the keyboard?