Color-coding Grief

I'm a big proponent of always moving forward and doing our best to help people. I support the fight for cancer, finding a stop to the spread of HIV, and creating an environment to which suicide doesn't seem a viable option. I believe that the groups that work towards this action are a noble and positive venture. What I don't honestly understand is this strange concept of adding color to causes. Yellow for the Armstrong foundation, Red for Aids Awareness, Pink for breast cancer, and now purple for stopping suicide caused by bullying and hate. This may seem an odd question, but why do we need to color code things that quite frankly are truly devastating and necessary to fight??? Are we as a people so inept that we are unable to follow these groups and actions without a carefully laid out mapping system devised in awareness months and going off the roy. g biv rainbow???

I'm not trying to be negative, I'm merely asking why it seems to me that causes work much like fashion, moving in and out of seasons. This seems like nothing more than a way to create administration costs rather than actually raising funds to help combat the fights. Would it not be better, if everyone simply put forth the effort to help their fellow man as best as they could???

Take a U-Turn

It's been quite some time since I've posted here, not something that I'm overly proud of. I have many reasons for this, none good mind you, but it's the obvious fact that I've been in a not so healthy place right now. Leaving one of the only places I felt genuinely happy, and now trying to readjust to my new environment. All in all I think I've handled the situation as best as I could, but recently, after some rather long and overdue contemplation, I'm beginning to wonder where I'm going? Why am I here? All very existential and selfish, but necessary thoughts. I don't honestly know if I have any answer, but I have inclinations and dreams that I wish to follow. The greatest is getting back to NYC and being in a place where I adequately feel secure and happy.

Now onto the matter at hand. No Profit at the Non-for-Profit started out as nothing more than a form of therapy so that I might be able to cope with living in a rather mundane and somewhat misdirection-al life goal I now realize I need to use this blog in a more constructive matter.

My concepts of a non-for-profit have slowly been evolving as I've been living in extremely frugal and banal means. What I've come to realize is that Life in itself should be treated as a non-for-profit. I'm not saying that I'm going to go all Walden and abandon my principles of society since as we all know Thoreau is nothing more than a pandering jackass who did nothing more than trying to found the first suburbs. Rather, it's time that I start addressing things that I feel need to be addressed. Politics, Social Change, LGBT issues, Government control, Economics. Things that I feel are very important to be discussed. Things that I feel I can offer insight into, if only people give the chance to hear me out.

So here it goes. No Profit at the Non-For-Profit now a blog about life in general. Following the principle that life is not a means into seeking wealth but personal fulfillment towards bettering that what we know and what we do.

The problem with TABOO

We've all be raised to believe that we are endowed with certain inalienable rights, this of course after years of watching is nothing but a lie however. The only right we honestly have is the right to due process in order to facilitate our own agendas. This may come off as a strange way to start off, but I feel it's important that it be stated that this country was originally based on the principle of free speech. Yet over the years after communist red herrings, loyalty oaths, political correctness we've found ourselves in a state of affairs where it is now possible to simply ban a word from conversation in the hopes of providing relief to those who take offense to it.

Two things that bother me about such an action. Words are words. We were all taught the same adage by our mothers, and never have I realized that she is more right. Words can't hurt you, unless you the individual give them cause to. We as a species created language. As such we have power over this substance through which we are able to communicate and damn. This is not to say that there aren't powerful emotions that can be associated with words, but the point I'm trying to make is that, by allowing ourselves to become so emotionally tied to a concept we allow it to govern us. Words are not the masters of our fate, but rather the method and vessel through which we are able to present our fates. By giving power to our own machination, we are doing nothing more than creating a form of self depreciation since we cannot adequately control the product of our own misuse.

The second problem that I see with this concept of taboo is the fact that nothing is ever solved by this. There is no steps toward making amends or understanding. The word is forbidden and therefore discussion can never be taken seriously because too many people deem this unfit for conversation. As a country that was supposed to be built on the principle of free speech this idea of creating a taboo system with our own vernacular is not only disgusting but completely unconstitutional. If we are not allowed to openly discuss and further understand, then steps can never be made to actually heal the wounds. This goes for the case of race issues, sexuality, mental disability. In almost any case there are numerous colorful metaphors to be very basic in their description on how to announce someone's identity. And while I personally won't lie that these words do carry a certain mix bag of emotions, I don't believe that completely closing off the use of them is an acceptable option.

We need to pride ourselves on the desire to be open and willing to discuss, rather than being so quick to dismiss and harbor unwarranted and unhealthy emotional ties to words.

Such a long reprieve

It's been quite a while since I've made any attempt at writing a blog post that I felt it necessary to prove that I was still able to do it. Even now, after I've been staring at this empty space for the better part of half an hour, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm the "blogging" type. Regardless of that though, I've made a commitment to myself in some bizarre fashion that I must adhere to.

As such, recently with my sudden change of address and future plans, I've decided to take this little project of mine and alter it's content and purpose to somewhat suit my new state of mind. I've wanted to take this concept past just the form of blogging and possibly stretch it out into the world of a podcast for several reasons. The main of course being the fact that while I'm "trapped" here I need some form of outlet to release my creative mind.

I've begun taking steps towards advancing myself as a writer, rather than just garnishing aspirations and dreams in the back of mind. I'm currently working on a short story that I hope to have published by the years end, as well as work on a play that I might actually try and get performed, provided my family never sees it.

I do apologize for such a long reprieve, I've been trying to get myself into order, but that's proven to be harder and harder. Hopefully things change quickly, and I can begin with something stupendous to put my name to.

Recreating my Work: Redefining the Non-for-Profit

In the next few days, weeks, whatever, to come. I will be changing the concept of No Profit at the Non-for-Profit. Rethinking it's meaning and purpose. I want to start a podcast soon with this title that strings into the blog. But before I can do that, I need to know exactly what it is that I will be focusing on. Any ideas or general interests would be greatly appreciated if you wish to share.

Lets be civil with Civil Unions

I'm always coming out against Gay Marriage, for the obvious reason that what we are fighting for is, to be frank. Pointless. Marriage is nothing more a religious term, and in a personal opinion, it should never have taken on a political role at all. This country was built on, or at least it was constructed on the ideal of separation of church and state. As American, I actively believe in this ideal for the obvious reason, that when you have such a multitude of cultures and ideals mixing together you can't let the religions be the forefront of creation of laws and policies. This is not to say that religion has no place in government. Beliefs are powerful tools though, often used by the wrong powers for wrong deeds. The ideas of religion however, the striving to be better, creating a stable and reliable community, commandments about virtuosity, these ideas that seem to be at the base of all religions are what we should be using.

At the beginning I said I come out against gay marriage, and to be frank. I do. I believe that marriage is nothing but a principle created by Religions. This is not to say that it is not a good thing. But honestly, this is a fight that we can't win legitimately. We're forcing our own beliefs on another religion. Something that humanity seems bent on doing no matter what the costs. It is not the Churchs that we should be fighting, which is exactly what we are. Rather we need to fight for a change in what the government is doing. Civil Unions, same rights as a married couple,

To be honest, what we are fighting right now is not a fight for rights, but rather a linguistic battle with a group that is so set in their ways that trying to alter their vernacular now is something that we can't win. It's very much like the grandparent who still rattles off with racist colloquialisms, but we all smile and nod, because they are set in their ways and we understand that we can't change them.

Taking a Turn, for Better or Worse

I've been contemplating about my blog as a whole. No Profit at the Non-for-Profit. To be honest, the title was possibly one of the greatest feats of creative thinking I've had in regards to giving something substance. For over six months, this was my way of tackling grievances and complications in my life. It served that purpose greatly. Recently though, I've found that writing about those things in my current environment are no longer as therapeutic as they once were. For a while I considered just dropping the blog all together, since I'm not currently working at any non-for-profit. Yet, reading the header made me realize that this is still a manner to which could be useful.

I've been going on on how much I was pleased with my public transport posting. Mainly because it was one of the few posts that wasn't about me directly, but rather a grievance I have that because of this, many people are affected. So with much thinking, I've decided to keep this blog going in that respect. Speaking more of ideals, rather than of me personally. My self-imposed narcism through this blog has reached it's conclusion. Granted it's also due to the lack of vodka, gin, whiskey, and any other creative juice that I was usually afflicted with while I wrote this blog about myself.

Starting today, this blog will no longer be directly about me, but rather about about where I think things went wrong, where things need improvement, and how bad ideas stay bad.

As a last update on my current narcissistic gamble, I've started work on a story, that I have no idea where it will go, but I foresee a lot of potential with this body of work, as such most of my creative juices will be channeled there, while my more expository and logical thinking will go towards this blog. Wish me luck in whichever way you choose, but to be honest, I would love a bottle of emergency gin to hide in my closet.

Distancing Myself

I've come to a rather hasty, albeit as far as I can tell, necessary conclusion about myself. I pine for things, a lot of things. Most of which are sadly out of my grasp at the moment. Wanting to go back to NYC, wishing I wasn't at home, but most of all, to be frank. It's hard to look at your facebook page, notice you've been invited to roughly 12 different events, and then realize that you can't go to or do any of them due to geographic constraints. What makes it so hard being home is that, no matter what, geography is still a pertinent issue, as I don't really remember how to drive, nor do I like to.

As such I've found it necessary to distance myself from this oppressive reality that I seem to have fallen into to. I'm sure this sounds like a lot of griping and pointless whining. Do not be fooled, it is. Right now, where I am in my life, I can't keep looking back and regretting what I no longer have. I can't just take a quick gander, cause all I realize is that, right now, right now where I am, I'm not very happy.

In response to this feeling I've decided to stop using major forms of social networking. Mainly my facebook page. I find that trying to continue on with facebook at the moment is a rather unhealthy method of tethering me to the past. Rather than trying to grow and expound on myself as a person and writer. To this effect in exactly one week I will be shutting off my facebook page in an effort to help alleviate this longing and rather distressing feeling of regret. If you need to get in contact with me, I will have aim, twitter, as well as my blog or email. I ask that you if you wish to keep in contact you use the previously listed contact methods in order to keep in touch. Otherwise, I don't want to say goodbye, but in some ways, that is what this is.

Farewell to the void that is the internet. That swirling mass of knowledge and mayhem that has not served me so well in the past two weeks.

Sincerely
Minimum Wage Cavalier (No wage at the current moment though)

Wrong Turn At Albuquerque

These last few weeks from my last posting have been, lets say, the most depressing and draining weeks of my life thus far. This even beats the high school years out the window. Currently I'm back home in west Texas dealing with a lot of unresolved issues. Most of which I now realize will never be solved, and I should just learn to keep quiet and move on. I had high hopes for this trip being short, sweet and simple. Get in, get out, and get back to my life. Sadly, sometimes, what should be, and what happens, aren't always the same.

Sad to say, NYC will be nothing more than a lingering memory, as due to lack of funds, and a lot of complicated issues that frankly I can't involved in such a public forum, I'll be staying at home for an extended period of time, that no matter how I look at it, is already FAR too long.

It's hard admitting that something that was so monumental to me, is not out of my grasp. Just when you finally feel at home, when you feel that life is finally starting to let up, the worst happens.

I'm doing my best to be less whiney, since a dear friend told me, my last posting was by far my best. I won't lie, the clarity and fortitude behind that writing is something that I aspire to do all the time. Sadly this blog isn't just about getting my voice out. This medium has been my form of therapy for a while now. Considering I don't have healthcare to afford sessions or medication. So naturally I have to do something in order to alleviate my stress, anxiety, and overall annoyance with my current situation.

NYC is not out of my view however, be sure of that. Regardless of what is happening now. The only place I'm moving to after this is back to NYC where I belong. Two days ago, i went for a drive with my parents, and some young punk in a mustang cut us off. I leaned my head out the window and started swearing and calling him all sorts of obscenities. Most of which my mother had never heard of. Felt good to bring a bit of East Coast to this South-western desert. This has never been home to me sadly. Sometimes it's hard to look at your parents and let them know that there are times, when it's easier to say you love being here. Truth is? I don't. But I'm strong enough, I hope, to make it through.

Shifting into America's Destruction

Personal Transportation.

This is a major topic that I like to discuss openly with anyone, via public forum, or those nights where I stumble to the bar. I feel, and this is my personal view that public transportation is honestly one of the greatest mistakes that America choose. By abandoning the concept of public and socialized transport, by having this notion that everyone should own their own car, honestly as a society I think we went backwards rather than forwards.

Many people tell me that having their own car is convenient, allows them to not rely on useless and often unreliable public transit. And I agree with that sentiment. It is nice not having to rely on something or someone in order to go out and take control of your own life. However, how inconvenient is waiting five minutes for an express to downtown, or catching the local at night, just cause you know they stop at the stop only one block from your apartment rather than ten.

Having spent some time in areas where public transit is actually convenient and reliable, it's hard to go to an area where everyone is expected to have their own car. Where not having your own car is an actual manner to which people find themselves unable to survive legitimately. Yet, in these trying times, what good does having a useless public transit system do anyone any good?

Personal transport is nothing more than a bourgeoisie notion of creating class distinctions. Luxury models, family sedans, junkers, walkers, bikers. We believe in the idea that all men are created equal, and this is the land of opportunity, yet, if one isn't able to afford a steel frame and rubber wheels, then all you get to do is watch the freedom and future go by while you wait for the two fifteen which is already twenty minutes late...

When we as a country decided to let the trains be stopped, when we let the buses go to shit, the subways be filled. We as a society moved backwards, since we needed the freedom of our own gas guzzling road hazard.

Reservations

Recently with events in my family as they are, I've decided to take some time away from the CITY and head home in order to help stabilize and facilitate the craziness that is my family. Not something I'm overly fond of doing, but something that I need to do.

I've always felt estranged from my family, no matter what I said, what I did, I never quite fit in with them. They always seemed to view me as some sort of odd ball amongst their rather diverse and shall we say, equally as psychotic as myself, but on such a different spectrum, when I see blue, all they see is red. As a result, I haven't been home in what I would like to say has been close to almost two years now. I'm nervous and excited all at the same time, as this, is kind of a chance for me to reconnect with people that I haven't had much of a connection with in. Sad to say i can't even recall the last time I did have a connection with them.

This sadly comes at a rather awkward time for me though, as I've felt that I was finally becoming a true New Yorker, I'm poor, I'm hungry, and when it comes down to it, I'll make rent and my weekly bar special before I give that loans another thought. So my business practice might not be what I call THE BEST. But honestly, from what I've heard from everyone, we're talking about the most blood sucking sadistic bastards ever. On all those stupid debt commercials, no one ever hears about how the poor college kid is working three jobs to just make rent and groceries. Or how the mother of four with no father had to send the last vestiges of her paycheck to make sure that her kids have a place to sleep, but is so scared to answer the phone she unplugs it.

I have so many reservations right now, about my credit, about my trip, about coming back to this city, FULLY realizing that I'll go right back to maybe one meal a week, or none at all. Where I stand in line at the Duane Reade, buying a chocolate bar just so that I have the energy to walk about looking for better paying jobs. This is the life I wanted, who knows, maybe things turn around, maybe they don't. In either case, this trip I think will do me some good. Sure I'll probably be writing how the oppressive heat, nagging parents, and constant bickering of trying to relate to a demographic I no longer identify with is all driving me up the wall.

But, lets be honest, since when I have ever not been bitching about something anyway.

Keeping Hope: When It's All You Have

Well, I'm just a couple of days away from reaching what will have been an official month in NYC. Things are hard, that is for sure. I'm down to my last vestiges of what I'd like to call funds, and am going to have to call in some favors from the family. I am none too pleased with having this conversation since they made it pretty clear that they did not appreciate nor validate this decision of mine. Sometimes, when I'm up late at night unable to sleep, I wonder if they are right. But, thankfully, those are passing thoughts that never linger for very long. I've learned over the years to just move past my preconceived notions. Things are hard, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy here.

On a positive note, my feet no longer ache or complain from all the walking that I do. I'm thinking of heading into the city tomorrow and just kind of losing myself like when I first came here. Haven't done that in a while, and I just kind of feel the need to just get on the Metro and head to who knows where. It's one of those great places that you can kind of just move about and totally immerse yourself in something new or different. Thinking about Bryant Park perhaps.

Sad to say that I was unable to actually complete anything for this writing competition that someone told me about sadly. It seemed right up my alley, and the sad sad fact was, that I was just unable to actually produce anything that I was personally happy with. I started about six different stories, but nothing felt appropriate for the moment. As strange as that sounds to some. When I write, I get these kind of prescient glances of what the story will be, but sometimes sadly, my mind can't actually reach what my imagination has envisioned. I get frustrated, and I kind of let it sit on the back burner and percolate for god knows how long before I just inevitably forget about it, and much like the coffee I would make as a child, it'd burn.

This is not to say that I don't feel inspired here, but when it comes to contests, I do sadly get very competitive, and will refuse to submit anything that doesn't reach my standards. Which can be overtly high when they don't need to be. Well that's life.

I worry how things are going to turn out. But, really, what's the point of that? I'm not the first to make this venture, I'm not the last. But I can say, just cause I know, don't ask me to say how. I'm meant to be here.

Same Shit, Different Place

3 weeks now, been in the city for 3 weeks, and what can I say other than, it feels a hell of a lot longer than that. Time seems to have an odd way of working in this city. Some days feel like they are only hours long, others feel that they actually take more than one day to finish. I'm getting to the point that if I didn't have my cell phone I wouldn't know what day of the week it actually is. Thankfully though, I'm somewhat aware of my surroundings enough to know that as of right now, things are, stable is the word we're going to use.

In a way they feel very akin to how things were in Rochester, I'm still concerned about money, but I always am. I'm getting unnecessary calls from the loans, saying I need to make payments, but I already did, I'm covered for a good amount of time actually. And from details that my parents give me, my grandfather was recently hospitalized. The latter of that list is really the only thing that's been on my mind lately to be honest.

My grandfather is a great man, who I dearly respect and love. He is one of the few people who believed that I should actually pursue a career in writing. Stating that it must be in the blood, since he himself was a writer in his teen years. Actually this is a great story. My grandfather worked for the local fishwrap of Juarez when he was just 18 years old, my mother has his old typewriter that he used. On one assignment he wrote about the Mexican Cartels and as a result, was supposed to be executed. His mother immediately sought asylum for him and my grandmother in America, provided he would share the data that he had uncovered. As a result, both my grandparents were offered American citizenship, and a short while after that, my mother was born. Writing is in my blood.

Yet, with his recent hospitalization, the pressing fact that I'm so poor at the moment that I can't go and see him, I did a rather morbid thing the other night. I wrote him a good bye letter. Something that in my family is considered a huge mistake. I know he's going to be fine, cause after dealing with that family for over fifty years, there is no way that he's going to be taken down so easily. However, the idea of not being able to say good bye to his face, has weighed heavy on my mind for the past few days. I thought about just packing up and going to see him. But, somehow I know he would be disappointed to know that I stopped my life just for him. This post goes out to my grandfather. A great and beloved man who I know will be better in no time.

I've thankfully avoided disaster once again, but selling a few of my old video games for cash, i went from having ten dollars to my name to having sixty. Just goes to show you that good things can happen afterall.

The Truth of Scripture

So, recently since my moving to the City, many people, new and old have been asking me about my tattoos. Long, and I think beautiful script depicting two rather at times odd, but very poignant quotes about how I wish to live my life. As odd as it may seem. In my earlier years I had a rather bad account of cutting myself on the thighs, so that no one would ever see. I still have the scars to this day. So why on my arms? During my more troubling years I started to have desires of cutting my forearms. And one rather auspicious day, I cut myself from my elbow to my wrist on my right arm. Claiming that i must have scratched myself during my sleep.

Sad but true. Then, the person who mattered the most to me at the time, took me aside, and slapped me across the face. He told me that if I needed to do crazy things, then I needed to think long and hard about my consequences, who else is affected when I do something like this, who else suffers, when I make awful decisions that make those around me cry and feel like they don't mean anything at all.

So, after I sadly had to leave that person behind, I moved back to Rochester, and on my birthday, I got the first of my two tattoos.

"A man's errors are his portals of discovery." James Joyce.

Well, with the first one forever inscribed into my skin, I looked longingly at the other arm, wondering if I didn't have the same insurance on me, would I make a mistake? Would I slip up again. Not wanting to be uneven, and for fear of not being strong enough. I went four days later and got my second one.

"A man can be destroyed but not defeated." Ernest Hemingway.

So that's the story of why I'm ink'ed on my forearms. While it's true that I always wanted these, sometimes it's a hard reminder looking at them in the morning realizing why I had gotten them in the first place. Regardless of that though, these quotes, these trails of ink that so eloquently describe me, are my treasures, ones that will follow me to the end of time.

Networking, it's what you need to do

I've never been the most OUTgoing of individuals sadly. I have my moments when I can open up and be much more agreeable towards people. But I'd be the last person to say that I'm an extroverted individual. Sadly, that's gonna get you nowhere in the CITY. One has to learn to drop these preconceived notions of fear and uncertainty and move on with life. As such I've met some rather interesting and fun people by being more agreeable and warming to them on first impression.

As such I met a rather interesting group of loud and crass actors that I won't lie, I REALLY get along with. Normally me and actors have had a, lets call it strained life, since normally we are all a bit too out there for each other. But to be honest, this group and me do quite well together. We laugh, we joke, we get injured, we drink, there isn't about a comment from any of us that couldn't be considered a sin in some demographic, yet that's kind of what makes life fun isn't it :D.

I'm still looking for a full time employment. One of my new friends feels that I should bartend. Something that many of you know, I REALLY REALLY love to do. However, like anything, bartending is rather difficult in times of hardships, since many people will flock to it, thinking it's an easy way to make a buck. I won't lie that the money is good, but seriously, it does take a certain individual to bartend. The most important fact being, that you are not there to be a buddy buddy with all your friends when they come into the bar. Yes, if they come out to support you, that's fantastic. HOWEVER, your point is to serve people drinks. If you couldn't tell, I went into a small local bar, and was quite displeased when this rabble of blond bimbos in heels came in screaming like a punch of idiots. Me and the other patrons grew quite, i say QUITE livid at this. So, while she was busy serving her friends only and forgetting the rest of us, I simply walked behind the bar and served myself and the three others in the small run down dive.

To say that this girl was angry would be an understatement. She came at me as if I had just walked in on her naked. I simply looked at her and smiled, as I finished pouring the drinks, and told her, that if she wanted to hang with her friends, to go ahead, but right now I wanted service, so I treated this like the self serve checkout at Wal-Mart, where she had obviously bought that blouse. Needless to say I was asked to leave, and the other patrons and I went to a better bar that I have been frequenting and enjoyed some cheap drinks, courtesy of the bartender who said,and I quote "that bitch got problems, I'm surprised you guys ain't sober."

All in all, times have been good.

No Profit at the, well anywhere really

So here I am, poor, living on random excuses for furniture, and wondering where my money will soon be coming from. I have one more paycheck from my previous job that will add, what I like to call a pittance to my already miserable bank account. Not that I'm worried or anything mind you. Honestly, I'm not, which is kind of odd, the last time I was in Rochester and this was happening, i couldn't sleep, my eyes were bloodshot, and I was so nervous as to what I would do.

But whatever, this is definitely an adventure worth having. Every day I grab the train to somewhere new and just see what I can find. I've found the area in Brooklyn that I want to live. It's fun, laid back, close to a good subway stop, and has a couple of great bars that honestly serve good drinks, and aren't filled to the brim with jackasses. If you've been to the strew of Chelsea bars, you'd understand what I'm talking about. Yet, regardless of all that, I don't honestly care.

Today is going to be dedicated to job hunting for something stable, some crappy office job I'm sure, but whatever. This is about surviving, not being completely happy. Happiness will come when I'm living in a quaint little brownstone. I know this is a rather small post today, but I mean, nothing has really changed over the past few days, but I did feel I needed to update something. Hoping to keep you all updated with better news next time. And with that, I'm out.

Transitions

Day 1: How to describe the trip out of Rochester.......HELL. I was totally late and unprepared, and slightly if ever so slightly hung over. Which made the trip that much harder I suppose. I desperately tried to keep myself together, but I've found that, try as I might, things usually just end up either A, working them out themselves, or B, just getting INFINATELY WORSE. So after what felt like almost 11 hours in the car, it turned into 40 once we hit the highways here in the city :-). But after selling the air, listening to the sounds, I realized. I'm home.

Day 2: So one of the contingencies to coming to NYC was that I was unfortunately expected to participate in this rather ridiculous scavenger hunt for a new social networking site called. FABULIS. We had to run around Manhattan for 6 hours. Needs to say, I killed a pair of shoes that day. Everything ended with us having spent only 24$ and a champagne toast. Yes, we def partook in that. That night we went out to a club and danced the night away. I went to the couch that I was bumming at the time, and PASSED OUT.

Day 3: So day 3, and I was still in the same outfit I had been wearing since the night before my last in Rochester. Filled with some rather good and bad memories, I opted to go shopping and buy a whole new outfit to counter the fact that I knew I smelled and felt beyond grody. After all that, I decided it was time head home, and after a long long LONG day of shopping and frolicking around town, we went home and slept. LOL.

Day 4: AH MONDAY! HATE HATE HATE. BUT WAIT. I had an interview, at the Chelsea YMCA, did I get it? Yeah, I'm pretty sure, considering they did a background and drug test. I'd like to point out right now, that the YMCA doesn't pay for stuff that they aren't going to use either, so essentially if you pass the drug test, it's an automatic WELCOME ABOARD. So after that, and having sat in the drug testing site for 2 HOURS of hell, I oggled and was oggled back by a rather nice young man named Alec who said we should do lunch, but neither of us exchanged numbers, so I don't know. After that I went out for a martini and some time to just relax. Where a nice French man by the name of Franc decided that he liked my writing enough that he was going to buy me SEVERAL drinks. It was rather nice actually.

Day 5: Well Day 5, 5 whole days of living in the city. And what do I have to show for it? Couch fibers locked into my neck permanently, several blisters and bruises, an empty wallet, and of course a bloody heal from my shoes cutting into it REALLY REALLY BADLY. According to my phone I've already walked like 36 miles in total, and you know what? I LOVE IT. This is the life for me. My 89 on a month pass for the metro, BEST investment ever. Totally beats having a car. Life here is not going to be easy, but that's part of the challenge that I love. This is my time, to shine, burn, cry, love, what have you. All I know is, that when everything is said and done, this is my time to be me.

Understudy to My Own Life

Tonight is my last night in my current location. And while I should be so excited about my new venture. Tonight all I can seem to do is look back and wonder. Who the hell am I doing this for? On the walk home tonight, I began to wonder who, the fuck is actually in control of my life? Since recently I've been wondering if I'm actually doing this for myself.

A good friend of mine makes me believe it is, but am i really? Granted all night I'm pushing for someone to go for him that has no chance cause he has no interest, but that's not important, cause when I look back, all I can think of is, what the hell am I doing??? Sure I want to do this, but really am I doing it cause I want to?

Then it dawns on me. What the fuck? Does it matter? Sure, I've been through hell and back. I've been through a life of what most would call pain and suffering mixed with a vodka tonic and espresso, but who the hell gives a flying fuck. Right now I've known for a long while that I can't just sit back and let the world be on it's own, I actually have to take the chance and take the plunge.

Tonight what I saw in myself was someone concerned that a friend had a chance at something special. Granted he didn't think so, but who the fuck cares, he had something even if only for a moment. Then it dawned on me. I'm kind of just a passing thought. Yes I'm witty and clever, but when it comes right down to things, the one thing that I've noticed over the years is that people seem to easily pass over, and forget me. I'm not what one would call memorable, because I'm not sure I actually want to be. As a result, my life seems to play out with me, as more of a backup dancer, rather than an actual participant. So why then am I still leaving, even though, honestly this really isn't my idea?

Cause, fuck whoever thinks I can't succeed, or that I can't progress. Regardless of what I seem to see or do, I'm going to be a great writer, a great person. Yes, I might be crass, yes I might be a jerk, and yes, I might say things, that make people feel inferior. But honestly, do I give a fuck? NO! I'm me, because I grew up with such a mental image that people need to shut the fuck up and deal. Yeah, I'm a jackass, you don't like it? Then fuck off and move on.

Two roads diverged

I've never considered life to be this predestined fabrication that we have no control over. Yet, with the way things seem to be leading me towards possibly the greatest adventure of my life. I wonder, what does Fate have in store for me? These recent days have been ones with the following endeavors, staying up late at night looking at job websites, and apartment hunting. I've got just a little over two weeks to solidify a journey. And I'm not even sure I can. Doing so would probably entail that I finally go someplace, where ideally I'll finally feel at home. And that thought alone is something so desirable, that I almost forget how close the sword of Damocles swings over my head.

A good friend of mine posted on a social networking site that I would be leaving with him on his own adventure. As a result the first thing I thought about doing was wringing his neck, till I realized how right it feels to say that I'm leaving. I'm leaving, and I really want to.

My current song of choice is Put Your Recrods On by Corinne Bailey Rae. The lyrics and subtle jazz really bring about that sense of change. Especially the last two lines "you're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow." Talk about striking a chord in my sense of self. My main reservations for wanting to leave are simple. Here, I have a job, I have an apartment. I have stability in my rather unstable life. For the first time, I've actually felt like I'm Home. This city has it's quirks, and it's not somewhere where I want to be forever, but right now, it's served the purpose of allowing me to develop further as a person and a writer. Yet, recently, everything I write is stagnant. I've become too comfortable here, that I'm unable to push past this.

Until further notice, if anyone asks, I'm leaving. That's the end of that.

Emotional Junction: Learning to Take a Transfer

Last night, one of my better friends, best friend to be honest, commented on how my posts had been a bit "melancholy." So I've decided to focus on something other than blue thoughts, and move right onto the next one. Fear. ONE WEEK AND I"M ANOTHER YEAR OLDER. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Eh! whatever. Another year is another year.

This year I've actually planned on hosting a dinner party to celebrate my birthday, I figure actually giving a rats ass about it, might make me more jovial and upbeat about the way things are. If not, then I'll just be further into the hole, and probably watch myself grow quickly inebriated and fall down :D. I've invited a small gathering of people who for one, I think will actually show up, and two, who I'd like to see. One of them being my ex, but honestly I couldn't type the conflicting emotional baggage that is. But me trying to be the better person, and remain friends, has forced me to invite him/ I wanted to see him. The night has two options, a nice quiet evening where things are fine, or a yelling frenzy, in which case it might feel more like home.

I'm at a crossroads right now, not just in emotion, but also in housing. That same friend who said I was being a whiny doleful git has also offered me a free ride down to the CITY. And damned if I'm actually not trying to see if I could do it. New York, it's kind of the place for me. It's big, I can get lost so easily, but it's filled with possibility and adventure. I haven't made any legitimate plans at the moment, but I am seriously contemplating this action. It's hard to imagine somedays, if only cause, this could probably be the most daring escapade that I've even thought of undertaking.

Even while I sit here, the main reason it's so hard to not want to do it. Shit like that, just fleeing with no money, no hope, but just the damn dream that you can. That's what novels are made of. That's what real writers dream of everyday. So what does that make me?

Reflections of no sound

Tonight, I went out. SHOCKER, I know.

I find that going out alleviates the pain of working for a shoe shine boys salary with the stress levels of a neurosurgeon. Tonight, however, I made use of ear plugs. What does this have to do with anything you might be wondering? Everything to be honest. Tonight I saw the nightlife of my current location, and all I saw was this twisting, turning, screaming body of vapid thought and conscious. At the end of the night, all I could feel were my eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

The problem with being me, as I've been trying desperately to dissect and analyze where things might have gone wrong. Hypothesis being breaching the birth canal. All I can say is that I don't fit into this city. I'm kind of an awkward fixture that just happens to amuse and alleviate the pressure of certain other individuals while I remain here, but I don't feel like I belong here. I don't actually relate to anyone. True I have my friends, whom I value and cherish, cause at the moment, aside from being able to drown my thought processes with vodka and gin, they are truly the only saving grace to which I attribute my sanity to. My current situation is that of desperation.

I don't think I can survive here much longer. As much as I need to stay, I wonder if I can actually do so. Truth be told, there is a lot of hurt and pain here. And while many might think that I have this strong and willful personality, at the end of the day, I cry myself to sleep more than I care to mention, and I definitely know for a fact that I'm a problem that cannot solve itself. Had I an insurance plan, I can assure you, I'd be heavily medicated, taking my prozac with a vodka martini just to be on the safe side.

Representing Taxation

My issues with taxes are few and far between. I agree that as a privilege to live in a country one must pay reparations towards that nation. Granted, I wish that I had a greater say in what my money was spent on. At the end of every stupid tax form, should be a box that allows you to allocate the percentage usage of the taxes that you've been paying. Some might say that, this is done, through the use of litigation and political action by government officials. Well pardon my language, but what a load of bollocks.

I have no complaints about being taxed, but the brackets and procedures honestly mean nothing to me, since I can't get married, I don't want children, and I'm not rich. That however doesn't mean I don't want to take money away from schools and community development. I just want to be single in a nice neighborhood. Not single in the neighborhood with the crack-whore in one house, and the village drunk in the other. I've already got the drunk part covered. Deductions, tax breaks. Seriously, you can tell me how you have children and blah blah blah blah, and what not. It's a choice. That child should get the tax break, and it should be on a debit card with extreme restrictions on use. That means despite having the money you have to pay for rent, utilities, diapers, formula, and what not, and forgo that new knock off Gucci purse that goes with whatever Lane Bryant mistake you wanted to pair with it.

Political power delegating distribution of funds is also not usually something someone with no money wants to see. For the main fact that, as a poor individual, I can guarantee that I will never see that money come back to me in any form. Sure you could argue that in due time things will turn around and what not. But honestly, why would you believe that? The rich take political seats in order to keep themselves in power, while the rest of us have to linger. I almost want to join a tea party so that I can say how I am not being represented. Where is the gay friendly single white male gunning for government with barely enough money to cover his rent, food and alcohol budgets. Obviously I have but one choice.

So who's gonna support me for office? If not, who's gonna at least have a drink with me.

Just some after thoughts on all that tax time.

Should I stay or should I go now????

My current state of living could be equated to a coma patient. It's currently in debate as to whether or not I'm actually coherent of my surroundings, and at times I wonder of how much I actually want to be. This current post industrial nightmare of a town is honestly only bearable, due in part to, three months of some of the most glorious and beautiful weather, and a super market that is by far a better time than just wasting your time at the mall. Yes, the malls are just that horrid that I'd rather peruse the fresh vegetables rather than have to bear witness to another hour at a JC Penny's sales rack.

This all came about with the sudden realization that things in my life are slowly coming to a close. This old rather barren and seemingly distracted existence is slowly coming to a close, and personally I'm not quite sure how I feel about it yet. Of course I welcome change, and the prospects that come with it. But, recently, I'm ashamed to say, I've found that my bravery and drive for the unknown has become extremely muddled. So far in fact that recently the most bold and daring thing I did was cut my hair shorter. Don't get me wrong on that however, the cut was amazing.

When we grow up, we're told that after college a world of exciting and fabulous times await. From what I've seen however, all that I've gotten is a rather steadily increasing amount of debt, low self image, and the desire to do nothing more than sleep at least two hours after I set my alarm for. That which I always thought would be has been, shall we say short lived.

Last night I had a dream that I was on a train to the city. I had sold all my possessions, had money, clothes, my computer and this idea that I wouldn't need anymore than that. Problem I find with this, was the sudden realization that when I woke up, I actually had pulled out my suitcase and started packing. With the amtrak site still pulled up on my computer. Subconsciously I know what I want. But realistically and fiscally I know I can't. I pine for the times as children, when we wanted something, we just did it.

Not so recent developments

Last week was rather hectic. For those of you who were aware, I was attempting to give up alcohol for 30 days. Only to fall rather quickly based on the fact that after a week and a half the stress of taxes, payments, and a code blue being called in at work, the only thing I can honestly say is that after all that bullshit I had to open one of the many bottles of wine on the shelf. I came to the realization that currently, my life is a bit too chaotic and crazy to not allow me the small luxury of being able to dull the pain down just a tiny bit. Call this problematic if you want, but honestly, right now, I deserve a vodka tonic when I get home.

A couple of weeks ago, I went out with my ex on a lunch date, we had a nice conversation, and it was rather mundane. I'm rather pleased to say, that while I miss what we had, I'm slowly beginning to miss him less and less. I hated saying that for the first couple of weeks, cause it made me feel like such a vagrant who only misses the connection rather than the person. But as many of my friends have said before, that's okay so long as you're able to deal. Relationships have a tendency to linger long past the person they were involved with. Rather than wanting them back, you just want that connection again.

I've started riding my bike again as well. Weather permitting, I'll usually be the one on the black Marin, zipping through traffic, flipping off kids in crossings zones, and telling that bastard in the Escalade that I'm actually allowed on the streets when I skip the red-light that he has to stop at. However, due to the geographic location, it's rather sad to admit that my bike travels will be somewhat infrequent and sparse, at least till the summer months officially hit. Till then, provided the weather is above 35 I'll be on my bike, once again probably late for work at THAT PLACE.

Just a few updates, nothing major or really new. Continue forward, towards the usual, debt, freedom and liver damage

Hey, Poor Brother

So it's been quite some time since I've written anything. In my defense I had several drafts that I wished would suffice, but were in a sense laking in what I wanted to achieve with this blog. From my previous postings it was easy to see that I was moving through what we'll call a "transitional" phase in my life. I'm running through several serials of rather mundane and obnoxious incidents, each more terrible than the last.

But, as a check up on the situation lets look at what we're dealing with. Recently I've managed to keep a grand total of 3 dollars in my bank account for the past several pay periods. This, in essence, is the true incarnation of a surplus. Be that as it may though, I still make enough money that I can live my life in the hopes that sobriety only catches up with me in my sleep so I don't have to experience it.

So what is the reason for this recent update? Who knows to be honest. Whilst talking to random people, someone mentioned that they missed reading my blog. I found that odd since I had only written a handful of postings, but give, the customer is always right, unless I'm working. So here we are again, attempting to facilitate the necessity of me not going insane, and the small following I have to amuse themselves with my ramblings.

THAT PLACE has not really changed at all. I've gotten wind that we will be expecting an increase in usage because of another branches necessity for closure. So after being there for 6 months and finally getting a handle on the rather distressing and demented individuals I deal with on a daily basis, I've now found out, we're getting more. GREAT.

Personally, I've found myself reaching a new area of introspection. After a random outing with friends I found that I have what some might call an "abrasive" personality. While it's true that I tend to be very blunt and not always forthcoming in positive affirmations I find that always regaling someone with a lot of pointless puffery does nothing for that person. So I've made it a point to be how I know I am, blunt and honest. This will probably lead to an expedited extermination at that place I'm sure.

The Crazies on the Bus Don't Shut Up

I thought I'd try something different and just state the problem of taking public transportation when you know you're already better than half the people around you. I'm not saying I'm a good person, but I'm at least in a much more stable state of mind. Over the years of taking public transit I've found you really have three options, screw it and walk, suffer and take the bus, or find people who can help you out in your hour of need. Used all of those options, usually opting for number 1. So onto business.


1. Everything around you smells oddly of bitter dreams, cigarettes and MD 20/20. Either these smells have been trapped forever into the awful upholstry or something, but honestly this is a huge problem, when the very air you breath seems to have a funky flavor behind it. And you know for damn certain that it's not you.

2. Phone conversations are never just between two people. Recently I've learned that Quinisha has been getting cheated on by Brock, but that's okay, cause she's cheating on him with Laron. And Gwendolyne, quiet gwendolyne is doing naughty naughty things with the vibrate feature on her phone.

3. Children are screwed up because the only contact with other adults outside of their parents and teachers, are the nut-jobs on the bus. "High School huh, yeah I tried that for a while, wasn't for me." Yes taht was an actual statement. Not sure if he just left the penal colony or what, but they need him back.

4. Final reason I'm not meant for the bus, simple, potential doesn't need to swim with crap. I go on about how I've got all this potential all the time, but never do I feel more assured than taking public transportation. Those of us that rely on intellect, wit, and clarity need to understand one thing, the common man is both brass and pathetic. The reason that so many of them are in trouble is for the basic fact that if we're lucky we won't have to deal with them.

So naturally as I get off to go change into my uniform, I get to serve these weirdos as them come into THAT PLACE. Such is the irony of potential.

Losing Ground

It's important when you have a shaky life to have good company by your side. Whether that be family, friends, relationships or branding. Sad to say, I lost a piece of that when someone I truly cared about called it to a halt.

This was not a single sided thing mind you. I was more than aware that things were not going as we both as planned. Yet, when we are in lxxx it's hard to ignore those honest truths. So we meander about, mucking up our emotional stability in the hopes of creating some form of structure to what could have been better referred to as a suspension bridge with only one row to suspend it. Even now as I sit and type this posting in my dark, rather cold room, all I can do is think about how much I miss them, and how much it stinks that things ended up this way.

In my rather deteriorating state I felt the need to wander over to the local liquor store and purchase about 60$ worth of wine and liquor just to satisfy the growing void slowly consuming my sanity. Inching and wrenching through, just pretty much destroying me from the inside out. I almost equate it to a flesh-eating-virus, if I would be so lucky, cause then I would have immense physical pain to at least balance out this emotional scaring I seem to be developing.

Last night, after a rather painful day at work, I retreated to a friends house, where we acted like children, consumed food, played video games, and I honestly didn't think about the person in question at all. I had so much fun, I was almost a little pissed that as I was walking home I cried at the fact that I had forgotten about them.

This post is to all my friends who have been monumental in keeping me grounded. Rum, whiskey, Vodka, Gin, you guys are the greatest. To the rest of you, you know who you are, thanks a million people.

Giving Yourself Credit (Especially When the Bank Won't)

As one of my good friends would say, nose raised, with just the right of silver-spoon-fed inflection, "It doesn't matter if you have money as long as you act like it." Thank goodness he has a suburban housewife vehicle since it truly is the only way to go shoe shopping, a past time that I'm beginning to become so good at that I can pretty much walk in, identify exactly what's new and what's not in just under a 24 hr span.

One of the privileges of working for a non-for-profit is the sudden realization that not only do you have any money, but you won't either. Saving up for just a night on the town, shopping spree, what have you is such a work of diligence and desire that I sometimes wonder how I either afford my drinks, or my shoes. Granted I wonder how my fiscal ventures will be once I actually do get a profitable job, or I take the sucker way out and apply for grad school. I'm applying on the side just in case the dream job doesn't come along.

As of right now I have only a few credit cards, and want to keep it that way, since it's a miracle that I pay these off at all. Believe me when I say that it's a BLOODY MIRACLE that the minimum payments are even met at times. What with the shopping, the eating, the necessities of LIVING. That does include liquor, despite what you might think.

Where is this whole thought actually going? Simple, working for nothing makes you want to live for more. The sad fact is that as I've come to realize I can't really do a lot of the stuff I do, I'm still going to do them. Life is about living, which I intend to do, it just so happens that living also costs money.

Regardless of what you are doing for your vocation, it's always important to take the time out of the day to pour that glass of wine, buy that rack of lamb for that special someone. Spend frivolous amounts of money on christmas gifts even when you shouldn't. Working for nothing makes you appreciate everything, for the simple fact that you shouldn't have it, but need it.

Man that's Whack, Wack, Wac? I Don't Speak Urchin

Due in part to being in the north, stricken by lake effect snow, and terrible temperatures that honestly make me cry at the realization that I walk through this mess to get to work, I do feel a sudden connection to everyone else walking around me. This of course is quickly stamped out when I watch these people hovel across the slush and snow, we're all cold, we're all freezing, but you're the one keeping us that way.

In regards to the colder temperatures THAT PLACE has recently been "plagued" by a larger amount of guests and people wishing to use the facilities. This is of course fine since they pay for this privilege and I'm not about to stop them unless they follow the rules. What I am trying to stop is people trying to use THAT PLACE for free. Yes, that's right people, the public still wants a way to take advantage of a corporation that is there to help them. SHOCKER. I'm aware, but when you work for it, and on those rare occasions that you remember that you like your job, it's infuriating that think that some people honestly have no conscience about this action.

One instance would be when a couple of street urchins, decided to stroll right into the facility. Stating they were there to practice for their school. Now, being the model employee that I am, I made sure that this was correct since one, schools were out, and two they only practice in the fall. Naturally I inquired as to who they needed to talk to, and they spit out some name. John Jones, yes they actually said that name. And no any street urchins reading this, I am not going to fall for some asinine excuse like that. So regrettably I had to kick them out on a very VERY cold day.

But, the whole point of this rant, you may be wondering? It's simple, those delightful little children who probably ran home and complained about how awful we treated them started bitching and moaning. Man that's whack, or however you spell it. I was seriously taken aback at the audacity. And it's not just street urchins, but other people who try and use THAT PLACE for nothing. We already go through enough trouble offering grant assistance, which will be a subject of much grievance I assure you, so no it is not okay to use THAT PLACE for free.

Getting Off at Work

I usually find myself to be an optimal employee. Perfect, far from it, but I'm by far a lot more competent and gracious than some. This however does not seem to be the case, as of recently I've had not one, but multiple people tell me that I've become rather cynical and bitter about my job. Shocking I know, but honestly this irks me for a few reasons.

1. Despite the amount of complaining and drinking that my job will often lead me to, I actually do enjoy working for THAT PLACE. I'll say what I will about the terrible wages and lack of hiring full time, but honestly I've found myself actually enjoying going to work.

2. Yes, I am sarcastic, it's probably my only redeeming and most notable characteristic about me. However, I can assure you that when I work I keep myself very professional. I pride myself at doing the best I can, even if it means getting paid pennies when I should at least be getting nickels.

3. I don't enjoy being told off by some entitled person who has never worked customer service before.

That might be my greatest grievance of all, not so much that he's making accusations about my actions at work, but rather that he feels he has the right to bully me, just cause he can. Not everyone has ever had to actually work customer service, call them elite, arrogant, pompous, privileged, whatever. But in truth, everyone should work customer service. If only to be shown the proper way to talk to people.

I'm happy to say that I still have a job, despite my sincere desire to give him a piece of my mind. For those that know me in real life, I'm sure you are aware that had this job not been a major concern, I would have been honest in my response. Looked him straight in the eye. "Why yes, I do get off on with-holding. Anyone got a cigarette, cause I'm just about spent?"

Surviving on a Shoe Shine Boy's Salary....

I shall begin with some ground rules.

1. The company will be referred to only as THAT PLACE, not really due to any animosity towards it, but merely to vent out unnecessary and possibly unsolicited aggression.

2. I will write at least one article per week. No less, but preferably more.

3. No real names will ever be given, I'm more than certain I signed some kind of waiver to avoid problems with this sort of thing.

4. I will not just be talking about work, but also venture into my personal life at times, if this becomes troublesome however I will be forced to stop and stick towards just work though.

And here we go.


It was no surprise to me when I signed my name to the employment agreement that i was inherently selling my soul. I'm a hard worker, and find it difficult to say no when in all honesty I was struggling to pay anything off, let alone just survive for a week without hoping I was invited to lunch with friends or someone. I could have perhaps saved myself some trouble if I had cut out about 75% of my usual alcohol consumption, but as you will find, either by my actions or direct relation, my alcoholism is one of those "adorable" little quirks that just make me me.

After working for one month at THAT PLACE I quickly realized that while I made enough to stabilize my rather shaky living situation I was going to have to learn how to watch my spending. I'm better at it, but far from perfect. But regardless of that, I find the time to go out and enjoy myself, even though I make almost nothing. The one problem with THAT PLACE is that I make just a few cents higher than the national minimum wage, which is honestly a laughable number since looking at how the world works, yeah, no, nobody can survive on that. Work two jobs, and yes you can live a bit more comfortably, then go crazy when the lack of sleep, relaxation and social time steadily creeps up on you erodes your soul like tartar.

Why do I make so little? The main reason being that non for profits don't have funds. As I'm sure the CEO would say, we are there to help people and blah blah, something, something, aide? As you can see, my enthusiasm and devotion is only as livid as to how full the glass is.

But here I am. Almost six months after working for THAT PLACE and wouldn't you know it? Still poor, a raise in sight after perhaps two to three years of certifiable slavery. Thankfully I got plenty of vodka and gin to alleviate my stress. Drinking plays a heavy part in my method of therapy. There are just somethings that you can tell a random hallucination that no one else would understand. No I don't drink to that point, but sometimes you have to use absurdity to get by. Believe me, THAT PLACE has plenty of absurdity. It's no wonder they hired me.

Opening sentiments.

Here in lies a tale, nothing overly dramatic, nothing overly funny. Just the word and thought of an individual working for a local non for profit organization and the random and sometimes ludicrous happenings that go on.

To start, I will not now, or ever directly mention the organizations name. I can tell you that it is a rather large organization that is focused on family values. Having multiple locations nationwide, and working at the front desk, I intend to vent my frustrations and grievances about my situation. No this does not mean I will be complaining about my company, nor the people that we service. Although they might be mentioned from time to time. Coworkers will be sparingly mentioned as a need for reference and nothing more.

Why am I doing this? Honestly it's for my own sanity. Having recently graduated from a "prestigious" University, and having my own grievances about the world realized. You quickly find that while a college degree is all fine and dandy, to be quiet honest, you're better off with toilet paper from the public library that you scribbled a few notes on. So in short, this is me finding a way to be creative with the fact that I'm working for just above minimum wage to keep the labor lawyers out of reach, with the only incentive being that while I have job security, I don't have fiscal flexibility.

How will I be doing this? Simple, I will write, theoretically people will read. In one years time, since I don't foresee any other prospects opening up any time soon for me, I will be describing, venting and planning for better implementations towards a company that ranks me, in terms of necessity and value as a chair or other piece of moveable furniture. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, shall we start?