A Soccer Tale (or My Genetic Inheritance?)

Hello there. It's a new year on the calendars (Mayan and Gregorian) and this would be as good a time as any to knock the rust off of this ol' blog of mine. I haven't had the same "inspiration" recently to write as I have in the past. That doesn't mean I haven't had anything to say, I just wasn't willing to sit in front of a monitor and bang away at the letters on the keyboard to tell my stories (despite the inordinate amount of time I have spent in front of a monitor in general over the past 2 years).

In an attempt to shake off the writer's block I've been afflicted with, I'm going back to my unfinished drafts to post some of the thoughts that have been on my mind over the last 2 years. I'll call these the 'Draft Revisited' series.

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Draft Revisited #1:

My father had lived a life that was filled with as many crazy stories by the time he was in his mid-twenties. I would argue he had more unusual life experiences by that age than most "normal" people who live to the ripe old age of 85. One thing that he would occasionally leak out in his recollection of his childhood was how he was once recruited to play for the national team of his country of birth, Colombia.

As I recall the story, my father was in his pre-teens (perhaps early teen years) when a stranger saw him playing soccer (presumably with his friends, he was never specific about this part). The stranger found out a little more about this kid who showed some skill on the field. It turns out he was a scout for the Colombian national soccer team. He spoke to my dad and praised his play. He expressed a desire in having my dad try out for the national team.

The chance to play for the national team represented new opportunities for my dad. For starters, playing for the national team is an accomplishment that many take pride in. To represent your country is a tremendous honor but also an amazing personal accomplishment since only the best of the best can say they reached that level. Furthermore, he could now have the possibility to travel outside of Bogota... to travel away from the relative poverty he lived in. Not just to travel to other parts of the country but the world! His wanderlust was deeply rooted in him even at such a young age. Most importantly, if the team was good enough, he could end up playing on the largest soccer stage of them all: the World Cup.

Every boy who plays sports will inevitably fantasize about playing in the championship game: throwing the winning touchdown pass as time expires in the Super Bowl; hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the 9th to win the World Series; making the fadeaway jumper at the buzzer to win game 7 of the NBA Finals. My father loved playing soccer and knew he was good at it. The prospect of playing in the World Cup was an intoxicating dream. Simply put, to have this chance to realize this boyhood dream is something that doesn't present itself every day (pardon the hackneyed cliché).

My dad was confident that his family would support the potential realization of this dream. The scout visited my dad's house to speak to my grandparents. He attempted to sell my grandfather on the prospects of having my dad train and eventually play for the national team.

I didn't personally know my grandfather very well. Nevertheless, I have the impression - from stories told by my dad and my aunts/uncles - that he was a stern man. For better or worse, he didn't take crap from anyone. Which, by extension, also meant he could be extremely obstinate and always knew what was "best" for his family. My grandfather told the scout, in no uncertain terms, that he was not going to allow his son to be taken from his home just to play soccer.

His rationale was sound. There was no guarantee that my father would end up playing for the national team. He was just being given the opportunity to make it. The scout tried to convince my grandfather but ultimately he moved on to the next prospect on some other playground. My father was crushed. He hated my grandfather for a while. He carried the bitterness from that disappointing moment with him for his entire life (as far as I know he is still salty about it).

Interestingly, he had a chance to allow his son (me) to play in organized sports (baseball). He turned it down since he knew what was "best" for his child.  I'm not trying to imply that I was going to play for the U.S. national team in the Olympics. It was just a Little League team that I wanted to try out for. My dad didn't allow me to play and pursue my childhood dream. His explanation was that many coaches would fondle - even rape - boys on these teams and he didn't want to expose me to that.

I don't feel his rationale was as sound as my grandfather's. Then again, I could just be speaking from my biased perspective because I was denied my chance. Yet, in hindsight, all I can think about is how much of a hypocrite my dad was for not letting me try out.

Luckily for him, I didn't hear my dad's soccer story until years after my Little League disappointment. Had I known that story when I wanted to try out, I would've thrown it in his face and probably could have guilted him into giving me a chance.

Generally, the takeaway from my experiences with my father is to, essentially, do the opposite of what he did. If I want to be a good father, a good husband, a good person, I need to use him as my model of what NOT to do. I hope I can recall my disappointment of not playing Little League and his of not being able to try out for the soccer team when the day comes for my children to try something they're passionate about (whether it's sports-related or not)

*sigh* Thanks for listening. Until next time, faithful reader......

Remember, remember the 5th of November... again (or RaUM's 3rd anniversary)

Is that really you? Wow, sorry for the mess. Let me clean up here for a moment while I compose myself. Thanks for the unexpected visit.

I know. It has been a while. Truth be told, I have been busy and haven't dedicated as much time to the blog as I would have liked. This is not to say I didn't want to keep writing. I've had many ideas for blog entries and just never got around to writing about them. I knew another year was about about to pass but I could not believe it's been 3 years since I started rambling on RaUM.

I haven't taken the time to look back at the Alan that started writing back in 2008 (the same guy who once wrote consistently enough to have a potentially decent following). I probably should do that soon. But, then again, there are a lot of things that I've told myself I would do "soon" or that I would "get to" at some point and they have long been forgotten in my memory.

This entry won't serve as a declaration of where I need to be (or perhaps want to be) nor will it be a reflection of the years that have passed. Instead, I will give you a snapshot of what's been on my mind lately as I try to decide, once and for all, what I will be now that I'm grown up.

I've been teaching at Queens College for about as long as this blog has been active. It turns out it is what I love to do. I'm one of the lucky ones. As a close friend told me recently, I'm one of the few who can say he is doing what he loves... and can say it with a straight face.

Teaching has always been in my blood and perhaps that's why it comes so naturally to me. Maybe it's the power trip of managing/controlling information as well as managing/controlling a class full of students. Maybe it's the performance aspect: while standing in front of the room, everything I say and do conveys a message. Then again, the primary reason I've always given folks for enjoying the job is my feeling that the work is important. Teaching and gaining knowledge is often undervalued in our modern day, instant-gratification, self-absorbed, celebrity-obsessed society. Yet sometimes, it's the ego trip that I get off on. I've had students tell me that the way I approach the material allows them to actually learn something in my class (a wonderful compliment but also a damning condemnation of my peers).

My problem is figuring out how can I do this full time. The one pre-requisite that seems to be universal is that I must have a PhD. I was able to get my job as an adjunct lecturer (a part-time teaching position at QC/CUNY) with just my MA in Sociology. At the time I completed the Masters program, I was burnt out with school and was simply grateful to have earned a graduate degree. I wasn't considering going for a PhD. However, once I started teaching and discovered I not only loved it but was pretty good at it (based on semi-annual peer evaluations by full time faculty), I realized I would have to give serious thought to a minimum of two more years as a student.

But I haven't done anything about it yet. I'm not quite sure I want to leave QC but I don't know if there would be a job for me there should I earn a PhD. I'm terrible at change unless it is forced upon me and this isn't something I'm forced to pursue. And yet the more I consider that stance I am convinced that all I'm doing is letting my dream fade away before my eyes. It shouldn't matter where I am teaching, so long as I can make a living off of it.

I also wish there was a way to just earn the PhD and get a full time job but it also isn't that simple either. I have to ensure that I have an interest in conducting research and enter my contributions to the nebulous academic ether. I also have to actively engage in the office politics which I am able to avoid now since adjuncts are, for all intents and purposes, invisible at QC. I'm sure I'm overthinking things (as I am wont to do) but these aren't idle considerations.

Who knows? We'll see what happens over the next few weeks as I try and get things in order and figure out whether entering a PhD program for Fall 2012 is something I'd be able to do. Nine months should be enough time to gather my thoughts together and prepare for the rigors of being a student again.

As for RaUM? It won't be neglected (more accurately, it won't be AS neglected). Just give me some time to kick some of the rust off of this old hunk of junk and I'll get back to writing regularly before you know it! =)

Welcome back and until next time, faithful reader......

My Light Bulb Moment (or Consider It a 2011 Resolution)

Welcome back!!

It's no coincidence that the time spent on this blog decreased dramatically when I started going out with my girlfriend last spring.

I found it hard to be open and honest on the blog while simultaneously trying to remain guarded and not open up "too soon" with her at the start of the relationship.

Why the sudden change now? Am I single?? No. No. It's nothing of the sort.

I just realized what this blog meant to me and my sanity. My mental health has taken a toll lately by keeping a lot of my "random" thoughts in my head. Purging my brian of these thoughts that have weighed heavy on my conscience has been cathartic. I've been depriving myself of the opportunity to be less stressed, less overwhelmed, and less helpless for the better part of 2010, which was a challenging year. I refuse to let that happen in 2011.

Those closest to me know that I am not one to open up or share my emotions/feelings very easily. That's what makes this blog rather unique. I don't really hold much back when writing here. There is something inherently impersonal in blogging that makes it easier to write whatever I feel without censoring the content. I do happen to know some of you that visit here, whether it's occassionally or immediately after every post. For the most part, I consider my "audience" to be anonymous. I admit there are times when I want to know EVERYONE that reads this blog. Nevertheless, I truly enjoy writing for the unknown readers (including the future me).

This time away has also forced me to accept something that is probably obvious to most folks. When in a relationship, you cannot force your significant other to like the person you want to be, or the person you try to be around them. They need to accept you for who you are. For better or worse, this blog is an extension of me and maybe even a bigger piece of who I am than I care to admit. After all, a lot of who I am is left in every entry of this blog.

I kept myself from writing much in 2010. That will change going forward. It's not as if I have anything to hide. ;)

For your continued readership and patience throughout 2010, I thank you.
For those of you new to RaUM, I hope you enjoy the sneak peeks into my life.

Until next time, faithful reader......

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Addendum (2 hours after posting):
For the record, those who know me well (and that is a very short list, folks) know that I don't share my emotions/feelings very well in the "real world". Blame it on my troubled childhood or poor social skills as a youth. Perhaps, it was never learning how to deal with rejection or never understanding how to accept that life can be fucked up sometimes.

That being said, I want to be clear that the issue with the gf and my blogging had to do with my perception of how she might (or might not) react to things I had to write about. I can be very self-conscious about what I post sometimes (believe it or not!) which can make me more sensitive to any potential feedback I might get from those close to me. I hope you didn't think I was using her as a scapegoat.

Hesitation Kills (or Learning to Put One Foot in Front of the Other)

Hi there,

I'm glad you came back to take this walk through my thoughts today. Enjoy!

I've been hesitant this year. Hesitant to take any steps forward in 2010. I'm not quite sure why this is. After such a wondrous year of progress and personal growth in 2009, 2010 has been stagnant by comparison. I have a clearer sense of what I need to do but still have the old habit of over-thinking things instead of acting on given opportunities.

A thought occurred to me earlier today and when I went searching for it, I found this comment that I wrote back in August on Twitter (and posted as a Facebook status): "Despite being a man of reason, emotions trumps reason. And there are no rules that govern emotion." I wish I had remembered this tweet sooner. But it's 'done bun'. I can't change what's already happened. All I can do is look forward and learn from my mistakes and missteps.

Over the past week or so, I've come to accept who I am. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I'm more self-assured with a better sense of who I am now. I've discovered my strengths and what makes me quintessentially Alan. I'll continue to focus on the things I could improve upon to make myself a better person. It's one thing to re-affirm that you, in fact, "love yourself" but if you don't truly know who you are... well, then who is it that you're really loving??

I have realized that my entire life I've been driven by a constant need to be better than I already am, to try and measure up to other people's expectations, and to not let those around me down. I would try to anticipate what people expected of me and would attempt to exceed those expectations. Oftentimes, I was left feeling like I've let others down. The closer I feel to someone, the greater my desire to do right by them (and, often, the greater my disappointment when I didn't 'measure up'). This was something that was instilled in me by my father when I was young. But it was done in such a way that it had a tremendously negative impact on my self-worth. I have always thought I was never good enough for any situation, any opportunity, or anyone.

So today I'm taking baby steps forward: rebuilding my self-confidence; learning to truly love myself (not just the outer me but the inner me); and reaching out to others without fear of the unknown, of not measuring up to fictitious expectations, or of rejection. Several years ago, I had done a favor for a co-worker once and he thanked me profusely and told me "Alan, tú vales oro" (click here for the translation). For the first time in a long time, I can honestly say that I agree!

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On a completely unrelated side note... my new celeb crush is Kany Garcia! ♪♫

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Thanks for stopping by this lil' ol' blog. Be sure to come back soon! =)

Until next time, faithful reader......

Growing Up is Hard (or Failure is Not an Option)

Welcome back!! =)

Life is a continuous cycle of new experiences and opportunities for self-discovery. This past week, I've come to a realization about myself that rocked my world a bit. My mood has been rather melancholy lately and I didn't understand why. Overall, things have been progressing very well in my life over the past year or so. I truly have little of consequence to complain about. Despite this, I found it difficult to remain positive for the past several weeks.

I had attributed it to my stressful school schedule with the Winter class from hell. I also considered that it might be due to the missteps I've made in regards to my love life recently (or lack thereof). Though these may have played some role in it all, I've come to realize that it's actually deeper than that. The following tweet - posted 1/30/10 at 2:50pm - says it best: "The majority of my 'newfound' swagger in '09 was a result of my weight loss. My mood has been affected since I've stayed at the same weight."

There were many great things that happened to me in 2009: making contact with old friends and reconnecting with them, the places - new and old - that I traveled to, new sensations that overwhelmed me and made me feel more alive than at any other period of my life! The one constant throughout the year was my commitment to being healthier and, consequently, the weight loss that accompanied that change in my lifestyle. "Long time" RaUM readers will recall the regular updates on my weight loss throughout the past year or so. In the past few months, I've maintained a stable weight around 185lbs (it's fluctuated between 183 and 188).

I'm certain I could lose another 10 lbs or so without being 'unhealthily skinny'. I don't expect to ever be model-esque. I'm not built that way and I made many bad decisions when I was younger that has doomed me to a life of chubbiness (or 'softness'... lol). I also understand that at some point I won't physically be able to lose any more weight without jeopardizing my health. What I overlooked during this transition was just how much my self-esteem and general positivity in 2009 was intimately associated to my weight loss and improved body image.

This week I've been reconsidering what makes me tick, reassessing what I value, and what I need to work on moving forward. I have a better handle on who I am now. Inevitably, the person I see in the mirror will most certainly change as I grow older (and hopefully a little wiser). The major pitfall I hope to avoid is forgetting who I am as I continue to evolve. Ultimately, I need to stay true to myself and everything else will take care of itself.

It's time to lay down the foundation, brick by brick, for my personal growth: to be more aware of things around me so I may learn all I can from my experiences; to be able to express myself without paralyzing myself with thoughts of potential consequences; and to enjoy every second of my life which could end at a moment's notice.

I'm still feeling introspective but won't let it get out of hand (a.k.a. entering the dreaded world of over-analyzing things to death). =)

Wishing you all peace, love, and prosperity--
Until next time, faithful reader......

The Glory Days of My Childhood (Part 2)

For Part 1 of the story click here.

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The details of the second game of the tournament are lost to me. The only thing I remember is all the shit talking that took place prior to the game. All the talk centered around how it would be 8-4 vs 8-5 in the finals, an honors class final.

It turns out that 8-4 lost their semifinal game so there would only be one honors class in the finals, either 8-5 or 8-3. The only detail that I recall was the outcome of our semifinal game. My class won the game. I vaguely recall it being a close game. 8-5 had their chances but they threw too many deep balls and executed poorly when it mattered most.

Now my class, 8-3, was in the finals. We were the least likely of all the honors classes to make it. You could go so far as to call us the Cinderella story of this tournament. We even had guys from other honors classes asking if they can be ringers on our team. Clearly, we made it this far without them and I wasn't about to go into the finals with a new team full of egos. We were going to win or lose on our own!

It was the morning of the final game. It was also the last day of classes before the winter break. I woke up and it seemed like any other school morning: I was slow to get up. I kept asking my mom to come back in 5 minutes so I can squeeze in a little extra sleep. I finally decided to get up, not because of any sense of responsibility: I had to pee pretty badly. I swung my legs out of bed and tried to stand up. I had a tremendous shooting pain throughout both my feet and part of the way up my shin. I couldn't walk.

I would have asked for help from my mom but I didn't hear her nearby. We lived in a duplex apartment and I suspect she was upstairs, though I don't actually know where she was at the time. I figured the pain would pass the same way the pins-and-needles sensation goes away when your leg falls asleep. I dragged myself across the floor and down the hall to the bathroom commando-style, forearm over forearm. I slowly propped my body to an upright position first using the knob on the bathroom door, then the sink, and finally with the towel rack on the wall. I was doing some strange form of dips using the sink and towel rack to hold my body up while I pivoted to try and sit on the toilet to relieve myself. I was not only humiliated for having to go to such extremes to get to the bathroom but I was also really scared. When I finished, I called out for my mom and I remember feeling like it took her forever to come over to the bathroom. I didn't have the will to drag myself back to bed.

She came over and helped me back to my bedroom. It was clear I wouldn't make it to school that day. Normally, I wouldn't care about missing a day of school, especially when it meant an extended vacation, but this time it was different. I felt like I was letting my guys down. At the same time, I was concerned about what was afflicting me. My father, who woke up hours after my sister and I left for school, was surprised to see me in the house that morning. He tried soothing my feet by soaking them in a warm Epsom salt bath. It didn't help but at least he tried something (one of the few things I give him credit for in our life together).

My only course of action now was to go see the doctor. By the time I went to see the doctor, my feet felt better and I no longer had any pain. I was able to put my weight on my feet once again ans walk normally. Whether this was due to the bed rest or some other stroke of luck is unknown but we took no chances. My mother called a cab for us to go to the doctor's office.

I was embarrassed to be in the doctor's office explaining to him the pain I felt in the morning only to have him question my ability to walk into his office unassisted. It turns out he had a strong hunch as to what was wrong with me and insisted I see a cardiologist as soon as possible. He scheduled an appointment for me with one of his colleagues (and friend) a day or two later.

I was out of the doctor's office and home by 3 o'clock. I was feeling better and I was only a short walk away from school. If I left the house around 3PM, I knew I could make it in time. I seriously considered going to school to play in that final game. In the end, I decided against it. It was partly due the fear of the pain returning while I was on the schoolyard. I also didn't want to explain to my math teacher why I wasn't in school for class but was there for the game. To this day, Mr. Kralick is my all time favorite teacher and he was also the referee for the football games. He was an intimidating SOB and I honestly didn't want to deal with him after the morning I had. All I could do was hope that my guys did well.

After seeing the cardiologist, I was diagnosed with rheumatic fever (if you want more info, click here). My doctor told me that had I waited a few more days I could have had severe damage to my heart. Had I waited a few more days, I could have died from this. It's hard for me to put myself in that position again. As a 13 year old, it was almost impossible to imagine what dying truly meant. I knew enough to know it was serious but every time I think back on that diagnosis it chills me to the bone. I could have died! All my experiences since then would be unknown to me. The people whose paths I've crossed would have been altered forever, for better or worse.

Consider what you are doing at this very moment. This would never be happening since there would be no RaUM, no Alan, and I suspect neither one of us can imagine what our lives would be like had I not gone to the doctor, had I gone to play that last game, had things been different on that fateful December morning.

Fast forward to my return to school in January. It was a new year, I had been treated for the pain and was taking daily doses of penicillin. I'd be required to get a shot of penicillin every month of my life until I turned 18. It was preventive treatment to stop any recurrence of the disease. I don't recall ever catching a cold or being sick in any way shape or form from that moment until I became an adult. It was awesome!!

I had no idea what happened in the final game of the football tournament. I was eager to find out how it went. When I walked into homeroom at the start of the day, I was greeted by several of my classmates. They then immediately started peppering me with questions. Where was I that last day of class before the break? How could I abandon them? Why did I leave them on their own? What was so important that I missed the ONE GAME that mattered? I didn't quite understand why I was forced to answer all these questions until someone finally told me what happened in the game I missed. We got massacred. Destroyed. Humiliated. Outclassed. Run over. You're welcome to continue inserting relevant adjectives here.

They were venting their frustration at losing and blaming the loss on my absence. I must admit I was flattered, a bit upset they were saying it was my fault, but it definitely made me feel good since they felt I was important enough to be considered the primary reason we lost. Never mind the fact that we weren't even the best team in the tournament. I often think back to that time of my life and wonder what would have happened had I played in that game. I'll never know. But it's nice to imagine us finishing what we started and become the 8th grade football champs that year.

Once I explained to my classmates why I missed class that day they all fell silent and started apologizing for blaming me. After a few minutes, all the talk of the game and my illness was forgotten and we moved on. But for me, the memory lingers. Occasionally it creeps back into my consciousness and brings a smile to my face.

We played our hearts out and, whatever my influence may have been in our two wins, we won as a team. More importantly, I'm now in good health and I'm alive to tell the tale. I don't mean to over-dramatize that point but I have always been one who has taken my health for granted. That experience I had in the 8th grade always humbles me and reminds me how lucky I am to be where I am now.

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For years, this was one of my favorite stories to tell. This was my "Al Bundy" football story. I hadn't told it in years and I don't even know why it came back into my consciousness recently. Hope you liked it.

And for those of you who are wondering... YES! It really did happen to me. =)

Until next time, faithful reader......

The Glory Days of My Childhood (Part 1)

It was December in the middle of the 8th grade. The snow hadn't fallen yet that winter but it was beginning to get cold enough for it to happen soon. In my Junior High School, there was an intramural football tournament scheduled between several 8th grade classes. The tournament was to last 3 weeks and would be completed before the winter break.

I was in one of the four honors classes at my school in the 8th grade. Needless to say, none of the honors classes were given a chance to win because we were the "nerds" - despite having several athletic guys in our four classes. Of all the honors classes, my class (8-3) had the worst chance of all. You see, each honors class had it's own concentration, a specialty if you will. One class (8-4) was the band class, 8-6 was the art class, and there was the computer class (8-5). My class was the chorus class. Not only did we have the fewest numbers of boys out of all the classes in the 8th grade but we were also seen as inferior due to our status as choir boys. The only honors class not to participate in the tournament was 8-6.

When we put our team together, made up of practically every guy in the class - not all were athletic - I became the de facto leader of the team. My goal was to make sure we didn't get overly embarrassed in our first game and that we had fun playing in, what most expected to be, our one and only game. Yes. I admit I thought we were going to lose, as well. There were 7 others teams/classes in the tournament that we would have a tough time beating even on our best day.

In our first game we faced a solid opponent in 8-17. There were a lot of tall guys in that class and we clearly had our work cut out for us. If things looked bad for us before the tourney, things looked even bleaker when you sized us up in that first match-up. It was probably the worst possible match-up for us. Compared to 8-17, we were under-sized and a bit slower overall.

They got an early lead on us and my focus as the "coach" was to make sure everyone got to play (since we were unlikely to play again). I even took myself off the field to allow my classmates to get in the action. As I managed the game from the sidelines I started noticing two things about our opponents: (1) they were extremely cocky, especially after getting the early lead and (2) on defense, they only focused on our best players. I called in a few basic plays from the sidelines telling our QB to drop short passes to the "scrubs" (though I'm pretty sure I didn't call them that to their faces). The strategy paid off. We started moving the ball down the field very easily on 8-17 and even scored our first touchdown.

This is where their cockiness came into play. They began throwing bombs to the endzone on every play to quickly regain their lead. Our defense managed to keep them from scoring. In their frustration, they started getting upset at each other. With every completed pass by our QB, with each touchdown we scored, they became increasingly frustrated. They didn't have the "mental toughness" to stay in the game and play as well as they did in the start. We took advantage of that, mixing up our passing plays: short/long, sidelines/middle of the field, stars/scrubs.

We managed to pull off the upset in our first game against a solid team. We did it by playing smart and making it a complete team effort. When word got out of our win, everyone considered it a fluke. The other two honors classes won their match-ups so no one considered 8-3 a threat. If anything, it would be an easy win for our next opponent in the semi-finals: the most athletically talented honors class, 8-5.

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What happened to 8-3 in the semis? Will the boys in 8-3 overcome another difficult match-up? What befell our blogging hero that changed the tournament (and his life) forever?

Stay tuned for part 2 of this true story.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Venting and Reflecting (or Getting Something Off My Chest)

[Note: For those of you who read my "A Peek Inside My Soul" post from a few weeks ago, consider this a follow-up post.]

I need to get this off my chest. Bear with me as I open up a little...

There have been times this year where I would become insanely furious with my ex-fiancé. I didn't understand why. I knew I was angry at her and thought it would be better to stay quiet. I wasn't exactly sure what it was that set me off each of those times. I had pieces of the puzzle but I think I now have a clear picture as to what I was feeling.

Ultimately, I can't shake the feeling that we wasted time being together. Not for the duration of the relationship but for the latter part of it. It could be due, partly, to convenience since we lived together and we got along just fine so cohabiting was easy. Part of it is also the convenience of simply being together. There's a saying in Spanish "el costumbre es mas fuerte que el amor" (a roughly translation of the idiom could read "routine is stronger than love"). I think that's what happened to us.

What actually caused us to 'fall out of love' is likely different for us both though I feel like I was the only one willing to speak up about our situation. And we DID try to make it work for a little while but I sensed it was probably too late. I didn't feel like there was any real effort on her part to make things work. I stopped trying to force things work. I succumbed to the inevitable and suggested we break up.

As I mentioned months ago, the feeling was mutual. Ultimately, our decision to split was based on the premise that we were both unhappy. The split would allow us to move on and find our own happiness. We still get along great and I'm glad (and admittedly a bit relieved) that she's moved on.

So why is it then that I have had these moments of bitterness, anger, and regret? It's because there is a part of me that feels I wasted time being with her. What really gnaws at me is being stuck with wondering whether I lost months or years staying with her for as long as I did.

When DID she start 'losing that loving feeling'? Why didn't she say anything to me if she sensed any trouble? The more I think about these things the more I feel like I was taken advantage of. I feel bad feeling that way but it's hard to shake that thought.

I'm willing to bet she doesn't know why, or when she knew, the love was gone. These aren't the types of feelings that are tied in to one occasion or specific event. It's a process that occurs over an extended period of time and slowly erodes the foundation of a relationship. I'm not completely innocent and I'm sure I helped contribute to it in some way.

I am not posting this to simply air out my dirty laundry or to reveal some emotional vulnerability. Putting this on paper helps me process my thoughts and allows me to sort things out. I can say with the same certainty as I said it back in the winter, I'm ready to move on and, looking back on things, I wish the break-up had happened sooner.

['Broken record' warning!!] Throughout my life, I was never really comfortable being single. In the past, it was due to insecurities and low self-esteem. Now, I don't feel like I know what to do. I was never good at flirting and don't feel like I would even be able to do it effectively. Also, I'm "socially stupid" when it comes to interpersonal relationships. I don't pick up on signals, signs, etc. from women so I don't even know if I'd be able to recognize when someone is interested in me unless she was blatant about her interest. Ultimately, the relationships will come in due time and I'm in no hurry - even though there are times where I feel like the sands in my hourglass are running out.

My primary focus this year has been enjoying my life. There's so much I haven't done, places I haven't seen, people to reconnect with, and once-in-a-lifetime experiences to revel in. My long-time friends have taken to calling me "Alan 2.0" because of how much I've changed in the past few years. I'm more carefree and I make time to go out more. I may not have made the most of my life to date but, in some ways, I am making up for lost time. I don't want any regrets when I look back on my life.

After all, isn't that what it's all about in the end? Live and enjoy life, ladies and gents! Don't settle for less than you feel you deserve.

Until next time, faithful reader......

What I Learned About Life from a Puppy

A mini-post for today:

Most of you who know me personally know I've always been more of a cat-person than a dog-person. However, after observing the behavior of a certain puppy this weekend, I had a quasi-epiphany.

The world could be a better place if we take time to learn a lesson, or two, from dogs when it comes to dealing with other people:

- All we really need in life is a roof over our heads, regular meals, some love and attention, and a daily walk outside. The rest is gravy.

- There is nothing wrong with running up to a person you like and acknowledge them wholeheartedly

- If you don't like or trust someone, there is no shame in snarling, growling, or barking at them to let them know how you truly feel about them (a.k.a. don't be fake. If you don't like/trust someone, don't pretend to like/trust them)

- If you want to play, share your toys.

- Getting in someone's face doesn't have to be a sign of aggression. It may just mean you really like that person.

- Take the time to size someone up before you decide, with good reason, whether you like them or not.

It certainly is food for thought. Does anyone out there have any more lessons we can learn from "man's best friend"?

Until next time, faithful reader......

A Peek Inside My Soul (or Opening Up Some More)

"In a world full of everything, there are still days where I feel I have nothing." - my tweet from Jun 17, 2009 @ 4:43PM

I hate to admit it but I'm starting to think this rainy weather has begun to take it's toll on me. I've been really moody lately and hadn't been able to put my finger on what was causing it. Little insignificant things have set me off. I've gotten angry really easily lately. I've gotten extremely ecstatic very quickly. I've also become quite melancholy at the drop of a dime. I am trying hard to keep my emotions in check but for this past week it has been a challenge at times. Maybe some sun will do me some good. Thankfully, my workouts have helped a little over the past few days.

I've been known to sometimes wear my heart on my sleeve. I have slowly realized, over the years, that it is mainly because I don't know how to let my emotions out verbally. I often find myself tongue tied and don't know how to express myself. Some people have told me it's as simple as saying 'X', 'Y', and 'Z', but it isn't. Not for me, anyway.

If we ever share a moment where I express any gratitude, show appreciation for something you did or said, or I'm in the unfortunate circumstance to tell you how sorry I am for your loss... understand that it is one of the most difficult things for me to do. I find it hard to find the right words to convey the message I have deep inside. The feeling is there but the words aren't always.

This blog of mine helps me get over this character flaw a little. There are no faces looking back at me. Although, I will see some of you in person, I feel like I can get away with saying some things here that I may not be able (or have the nerve) to say in person - whether it is meant for you directly or not.

Nevertheless, there are still some things that I will keep close to the vest. Things that are either too personal to share or that will violate someone else's privacy. I try hard to keep the focus on me in this blog. This is not out of some sense of narcissism. I just feel like the only person I can really sound off on, or open up about, with reckless abandon is myself.

I even have some blog entries that I have written than remain unpublished. These entries will stay unpublished for the immediate future. Posting them would be inappropriate until I actually talk to the individual(s) that the posts are about. Only then will I know whether it's ok to publish it for all the world to see, or not. Also, some of my unpublished entries were written as a form of catharsis. Writing about that experience/feeling/moment was simply an exercise in letting things out. Those entries are meant for my eyes only... for now. ;)

Now that I've gotten THAT off my chest...

At this time next week, I will be having fun under the bright lights of Las Vegas!!

I'm super excited and am looking forward to this trip! Not just because it gets me out of NYC (and this dreary weather) but it's one of the places I have been wanting to visit (did I remember to put that on my "to do list" blog entry a few months ago?). I always figured one day I would have the balls to actually enter into one of the WSOP tournaments and that would be at the heart of my Vegas trip. Now, it's all about leisure!

Preliminary plans include seeing Blue Man Group, dinner (and partying) at Tao, and getting a tan. Vegas weather forecasts for next week show sunny skies with highs in the low 100's and nighttime temps in the low 80's. It's a lot hotter than I would like but it's not going to keep me from enjoying myself.

If any of you have been there before and have any advice, suggestions, tips, etc. for things to do, places to see, etc., please comment.

I hope to get one more entry in before I leave for Vegas.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Thinking back - part 2

Welcome back,

Previously, I started recounted the story of my path from HS to when I dropped out of NYU (and the subsequent regret I had over that decision). This is the story of how I ended up at Queens College.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After spending several years away from a classroom, I realized my life wasn't really progressing and I wasn't happy where I had been working. Some of the jobs I had in this time included working at a car parts warehouse, a car rental agency (both ends of the transaction: the guy that gives the customer his/her car AND later as the rental agent printing up contracts), and a video store, among others. In all these jobs (except the warehouse), I had either become, or was on the verge of being promoted to, a manager (whether it was P/T mgr or ass't mgr). But despite the increase in pay and responsibility, it was not the life I felt I needed to be living.

I made the decision to go back to school. I had been out of NYU for some time and two of my closest friends were in Queens College. I knew I would be disappointed with myself if I were to never go back and get a college degree. I went to Bronx-freaking-Science for Christ's sake!! I had friends who went to Ivy League schools. Others went to top universities throughout the country studying with faculty that were the experts in their fields of interest. What did I have to show for my time at Science? NOTHING. I was an NYU-drop out. I was bitter and needed to get back on the intellectual horse for my own sanity otherwise I'd never be able to live with myself.

I knew I couldn't afford a private university and opted for a CUNY education. I applied to all the CUNY's in Queens: LaGuardia CC, Queens College and Queensborough CC (QCC). Queens College was my first choice. Though I was willing to settle for admission to one of the CC's and transfer after a year or two. I was only accepted to Queensborough which was a blow to my ego but, at least, it got my foot in the door.

I tried to make the most of my time there but, quite frankly, I was so bored with my classes that I didn't feel challenged. I would spend more time hanging out with new friends than working on my class work. I fell behind in my course work and was very unmotivated. In the span of a year, I managed to pass 2 classes, dropped a few (I forgot how many exactly), and the others I failed outright for lack of attendance. I knew I had to get out of there.

I decided a transfer would do me some good. After all, the school I really wanted to go to was Queens College (QC). I need to confess that my primary motivation for going to QC was the fact that my friends were there. They'd tell me about how they spent time there, the people that they've met, and it sounded like fun. So much so, I even started spending my free time at QC and really liked the vibe on the campus. I often rushed out of class at QCC (when I actually went to class) and took the buses to QC just to hang out. I spent my time at the office for the student organization Alliance of Latin American Students (ALAS). It got to the point that people in ALAS thought I was a QC student and were shocked to find out I was going to QCC.

My decision to attend QC was not solely based on the social scene there. After all, it's not as if QC is a bad school, academically. It actually had (and still has) a very good reputation and is one of the few "respected" schools in the CUNY system.

I applied for a transfer during the summer. I didn't get a letter from CUNY Central telling me whether the transfer was accepted or not. Instead, I received a phone call from the Director of Admissions at QC (to this day, I wish I could remember her name). She wanted to interview me in person. I was surprised and excited. I didn't know what to expect but, even though I was extremely nervous, I figured this must be a good sign.

I walk into her office and I'm greeting by a friendly woman. She asks me to take a seat and proceeds to tell me that she has been looking over my application repeatedly. Immediately, my heart sank. I began wondering why I was even called here in the first place. This was a waste of my time! She's seen how badly I've done in QCC. She knows that I've been out of HS for so many years. I only had a B (maybe B-) average at Science. What do I really have going for me??

Well, it turns out... something in my application had caught her eye. Something that made her call me in for the interview. Something that she couldn't quite wrap her head around that caused her to want to meet me in person rather than make her decision based on what was on paper. She asked me how someone who graduated from Bronx Science could do so badly in QCC. Essentially, I explained that I didn't feel QCC was the place for me. I explained having visited QC and feeling a sense of belonging there. She reasoned, aloud, that I wasn't being challenged academically and I hadn't realized that until she said it. It was the first ray of sunshine in what had been a cloudy collegiate experience for me.

She reviewed my SAT scores (which, for the record, were quite good) and told me that my academic pedigree was strong. She understood why I didn't do well at QCC and she was willing to give me a chance to succeed at QC. This was based on a hunch. An intuition that she had gotten after speaking to me for about 10-15 minutes. I could not believe what had just happened. I was going to attend Queens College!

After completing a few formalities such as writing a short reply to a generic question she had prepared (to prove I can write in English) and filling out some forms, I was officially a QC student. The director then made me promise to follow up with her every semester to let her know how I was progressing. I easily agreed to this condition. After all, this woman had just changed my life!! In hindsight, she changed it in more ways than I could have EVER imagined.

I'll talk about my time at QC some other time but I did want to say one more thing about the QC Admissions Director. I successfully completed my first semester at QC the following fall and was beginning to erase the memory of QCC on my record. I made arrangements to swing by the Director's office in January. It was after the new year but before the start of the spring semester. When I walked into the Admissions Office, I learned that she had transferred to another school and was no longer working at QC. I was disappointed since I really did want to give her a progress report and to thank her for letting me transfer to QC.

If she could only see me now: a graduate of the MA program at QC and teaching other QC students. I don't know where she is now and I am fairly certain she isn't reading this entry but THANK YOU! Thank you for for believing in me and for taking the chance on me. It was just what I needed and I don't know where I would be without you!!

Until next time, faithful reader......

Thinking back (or My Life After High School) - Part 1 of 2

I'll get right to it today....

I'm often bitter of people that don't have to "pay their dues". This sentiment is born out of a resentment that I have since I didn't have parents that could provide me with the opportunities that others seem to have. Mommy and daddy weren’t able to take care of me during my college years. Quite frankly, I had to eat shit for a while before I could get to a place where I was relatively comfortable in life. I can say with a certain sense of pride that everything I have now, for better or worse, was earned, literally, through much blood, sweat and tears. Please don’t think this is something I want others to experience because I don’t. But it annoys me when others have the support that I didn't have whether it is financial, emotional, or academic. It's been a long road but I am beginning to feel a sense of fulfillment now that I haven't had before.

It all started when my parents separated when I was in high school. I won’t go into the details as to why they separated or why my mother, my sister, and I moved out of our apartment. During my senior year, the three of us lived in a room that we rented on a weekly basis. Yes... you read that correctly. It was a single room where we somehow managed to set up two twin sized beds with the rest of our stuff carefully arranged in the remaining space. The kitchen and bathroom was shared with other renters and it was a miserable experience. But it kept us away from the dangerous man I used to refer to as “Dad”.

My senior year at Bronx Science, arguably the most important of the 4 HS years, was spent with more pressure than any teen should ever experience. The academic and social pressures of taking the SATs, applying for colleges, going to the prom, etc. were compounded with the worry of what we would be eating each night for dinner or managing my personal spending to make sure I didn’t put any financial pressure on my mom. I still wonder how we survived those years. I remember many days that I went without eating lunch. I would mooch off of friends to survive the day. I was really skinny back then. I was an active kid (handball during free periods, soccer on the quad during lunch) but the main reason I was thin was because I didn’t eat.

Fast forward to the first year out of high school when I was in my second semester at NYU. I had done pretty terribly in my first semester because I wasn’t really focused on my studies. I had a job at an electronics store and knew that I needed to work more hours to be able to help my mom out with the expenses. We had moved into an actual apartment by this time (a basement in a private house a block away). I ended up dropping out of NYU during that second semester. I hated to do it but I needed the money more than I needed the education.

I hated dropping out of NYU for several reasons. For one, I feel like I cheated myself out of a chance to get a degree from a well known school. Secondly, I hated giving up on college only because I needed to work and earn money to live. It’s one thing to have a part time job to cover frivolous expenses. But I had to work to help pay the rent, to have food in the fridge, to help my mom in any way I could since she now had two children in college each with their own expenses. I had very little financial aid and had a lot to pay back in student loans, with nothing to show for it. I managed to pay off my NYU student loan several years ago and even paid the last 1/3 of the parent loan my mom took out for me as well. I felt guilty that she put had to her name and credit on the line for a kid who, essentially, wasted his time while in NYU. She worked long hours sometimes 6 days a week to get us to where we were. She dealt with the aggravation of talking to my father, who tried to exploit the fact that he was helping to pay for my sister’s college expenses as a way to be a part of all our lives again. [Side note: By this time, I had stopped speaking to him and didn’t want anything to do with him. I certainly wasn’t going to take his money thus giving him an excuse to get back into my life.]

To be continued next time, faithful reader......

My life according to HIMYM (or Just a Line That Resonated with Me)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From last night's How I Met Your Mother (5/11/09)

[In Stella's car]
Ted: OK, but just tell me this. Why Tony? I mean, is it the money? The kung fu pajamas? Like, wha- what is it?
Stella: He's the one.
T: The one.
S: Yeah, I know it's kinda sappy but... yeah.
T: *sigh* OK, I'm going to say something out loud that I've been doing a pretty good job of not saying out loud lately. What you and Tony have, what I thought for a second you and I had, what I know that Marshall and Lily have. I want that. I do. I keep waiting for it to happen and I'm waiting for it to happen and... I guess I'm just... *sigh* I'm tired of waiting. And that is all I'm going to say on that subject.
S: You know I once talked my way out of a speeding ticket.
T: Really?
S: *nods* I was heading upstate to my parents' house doing, like, 90 on this country road and I got pulled over. So this cop gets out of his car, he kinda swaggers on over and he's like "Young lady, I've been waiting for you all day." So I looked up at him and I said "I'm so sorry, officer. I got here as fast as I could."
T: *chuckle* For real?
S: *chuckle* No. Small joke. I know that you're tired of waiting and you may have to wait a little while more but, she's on her way Ted. And she's getting here as fast as she can.
T: Bye, Stella
S: Goodbye, Ted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now I'm not planning to get all melancholy and depressing proclaiming "FML", and whining about how I'm not where I wanted to be at this stage of my life. But I must admit watching that scene last night really tugged at the ol' heart strings.

I see several of my friends in happy and fulfilling relationships, starting families and I want that. When I thought I had it in the past, things were good and now that I don't, well... I feel like I'm adrift at sea. I may just be a hopeless (and maybe a little helpless?) romantic but I don't really enjoy being single.

Don't get me wrong... I'm not looking to dive right in to another relationship but I feel like a social retard when thinking about hooking up with someone. I may just be taking myself too seriously or simply over-thinking things but I haven't gotten very comfortable being single. So my primary focus has been on "doing my thing". Learning to do fun things that I normally didn't (and wouldn't) do in the past.

Nevertheless, I just can't shake the feeling that "time is running out". I'm a big believer in age being a state of mind and that you can be as young as you feel (within reasonable limits, of course). I also am always flattered when people think I'm younger than my actual age. But there are times when I'm left alone with my thoughts and I consider the "what if"s more than the "what now"s. In those moments, I can't stop the little voice in my head, the sappy romantic in me, who reminds me that we are simply waiting for the moment where I find "the one" instead of just going out there and sticking my neck out. I can't accept that things work that way... not any more.

But I'll keep waiting. I know that for as many friends of mine who are "happy", there are many others in the same boat as me. They're out there looking, waiting, or seeking their "one". And with that thought, I sit back and simply take a deep breath. My time - our time - will come. Whether I've met "the one" already or if she's coming into my life in the future, now is not the time to worry about it. I just need to live my life. And she - whoever it is - will get here when she gets here.

And that's all I feel like saying now on that subject.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Legacy

I'd like to welcome to my new readers and welcome back my loyal followers,

A good friend started working with Jose Cuervo recently. Yes, the tequila company and not some individual with the same name. Earlier today, he commented (via his Facebook status) about how he tasted one of their brands of tequila and it made me think about my grandparents.

My maternal grandfather owned a plenty of land in Portugal when my mother was young. Included in his list of properties was a vineyard where he grew his own grapes and made his own wine. He had a large staff that would perform most of the manual labor in the vineyards - cultivating the grapes, picking them, and processing them. The wines were bottled and sold regionally. The family has since sold the vineyard and it's part of some large conglomerate in Portugal.

My paternal grandfather worked at the Bavaria brewery in Colombia. [If you're curious about the brewery's timeline in Colombia, click here] His position with the brewery is the equivalent of what would now be considered the Quality Control specialist. Essentially, he spent his days drinking different batches of beer and putting his stamp of approval on beer before it was bottled. The brewery is still there but I don't think any of my relatives are employed with them any more.

You'd figure with this legacy of wine and beer in my family's history I would be a connoisseur of either wine or beer, if not both. Sadly, I'm not. This is not to say I don't appreciate a good beer or wine but I know very little about the different varieties, types, styles, tastes, etc. of wine and/or beer.

Growing up, my parents didn't really have much of an influence on my ability to discern good wine/beer from bad ones. My parents had simple tastes and a limited budget. They drank what they liked and what they were familiar with. My father may have drank different types of alcohol but he drank the same brands. Also, his taste buds were shot from decades of smoking. If tabasco sauce barely registers on your tongue and you can eat jalapeño peppers (seeds, pith, and all) in a few bites, it's not merely being accustomed to the taste and 'heat'. He barely sensed it at all! My mother also had a select few brands of wines that she would drink and wasn't much of a beer/liquor drinker. She'd have the occasional cocktail at a party but wasn't adventurous at all.

When I first started going out, I also stuck with what I knew.
--Beers: Coronas. Coors Light. Sagres (if I was at a function with my mom's family). Budweiser (if nothing else was around - just to have a beer in hand).
--Wines: To me, all reds were the same and whites were kinda sissy even though they went decently with seafood dishes.
--Liquors: Long Island Iced Teas to get you f'd up quicker (an easy way to get the 'poor man's buzz'). Rum and Coke (because a friend once told me they're really easy to make and hard to mess up).

After a few years, I explored other alcoholic beverages... more on the liquor end of the alcoholic spectrum: Red Devils (an suitable, if somewhat girly, alternative to the LI Iced Teas); White Russians; Anything with Kahlua!; Mojitos (mint in a drink? I was perplexed at first since I couldn't imagine how it could possibly work); I discovered the wonders and horrors of tequila - I understood why so many people avoided it (taste and the 'next day' effects) and why so few liked it; also, Aguardiente (as an expression of my Colombian-ness!).

However, without a 'guide', I was a blind man being led by other blind folks. My friends knew what they liked and also didn't seem to explore beyond those boundaries. I did what I could to try new drinks: incorporating them into Jello was my initial fascination but learning how to make 'party' drinks was also fun (punch, margaritas, etc.)

In recent years, I've decided to take some initiative and try buying different types of red wines. I did this to explore the differences between each type of wine and also to see if there really IS a difference between 'cheap' and 'expensive' wines. I don't feel I'm ready for a wine tasting session yet but definitely have that in my sights for the near future.

Though I may be viniculturally challenged, it was my personal exploration into reds that led me to discover my sangria recipe. The BFS actually ("Best Fn Sangria"). It's a labor of love but everyone that has tried it has given me very positive feedback thus far. I'm constantly looking to improve upon the original recipe and some tweaks have worked while other haven't. Though I have friends who can whip up a quick sangria (and delicious) at the bar, I'm a big believer that a better sangria can be made if the ingredients are given the chance to sit and "get to know each other a little" - preferably overnight but it can be for as few as 4 hours or so.

I was also introduced to Belgian beers by a friend earlier this year (didn't 2009 just start?!?!?), . I realized I have a lot to learn about beer and may have to include a beer tasting in my future as well. Maybe a few beerfests are what I need this summer/fall. Not just to get sloshed but to enjoy the different tastes and qualities of each type of beer.

Maybe the ghosts of my grandfathers can stop by once in a while and provide me with some guidance as well. Or maybe that would be insanely creepy and would scare the bejeezus outta me!! (Hmmm... be careful what you wish for, Alan...) I'll be sure to let you all know if I get any 'late night visitors'.

Until next time, faithful reader.......

This Past Week

Random thoughts from the week that was:

- Took the car for an inspection Monday and got more than I bargained for:
I have been lazy in getting the inspection done on my car this year. It expired on Jan 31st. I know, I know. I have no legit excuse for waiting over a month to get it done.

When I took it to the dealer to get the inspection done (and possibly some other work on the car), it turns out I had a problem with my exhaust system. Upon reading the work order when I picked up the car, I had a cracked catalytic converter and needed to get gaskets and other parts replaced in the exhaust system. Fortunately, my vehicle was still under warranty so I wasn't responsible for the $1,200+ cost of the parts.

Next time the check engine light comes on, I will be sure to pay more attention to it and take it more seriously.

- Ego boost from both of my classes:
I had a student from each of my classes (day and evening) come up to me after class this week and tell me they appreciate my effort in class. They told me I've made the material easy for them to understand. They also told me that my passion for stats shows and that makes it a little easier to learn because I care that the class learns. I'm not simply going though the motions like other professors.

That was great to hear and gave me a renewed sense of pride. I love what I do in the classroom and it meant a lot to hear not just one student tell me this but to have two students in consecutive days from different classes. I couldn't ask for a better compliment.

=D

- I'm focused now:
Nuff said. This has been a week full of self-motivation and following through with plans. Re-organizing crap around the house and trying to get lots of things in order so that when I do get lazy again, I won't have much to worry about.

- "What I want I can't have, and what I have I don't want":
No elaboration here but this realization has helped me put things in perspective lately.

- I may be working less time in Brooklyn:
It's not what you think. My hours have not been cut. Nor am I getting fired.

I was offered the opportunity to work off-site. My employment status would change from salaried employee to contractor for the two programs I'm working on now. My employer has been working hard to review their accounting records for the last several years (after having their funds mismanaged by the previous Executive Director). I suspect their offer may have been made, in part, to make the accounting easier to reconcile. I also wonder if it would be easier for them to fire me as a contractor as opposed to being a salaried employee. Not that I deserve to be fired since everyone is constantly praising my work. I can say that I single-handedly kept that program alive when they were on life support and when they could barely maintain a skeleton crew to keep meeting our target numbers. Had I not contributed as much to the program (outside of my job requirements) as I have over the past 2 years, they would have lost their funding a long time ago (and I'd be working somewhere else now).

- Three consecutive days of dream recall:
When I woke up on Thursday morning, I was surprised that I was able to vividly recall three full dream 'scenes'. Minutes after taking brief notes on those three dreams, I remembered a fourth dream which had slipped my mind while I was trying to preserve the memory of the other three. On Friday morning, I was able to recall two dreams: one was a clip and the other was a full scene. Today I had another two dreams that I was able to remember and one of them is a recurring dream.

There are slight variations in each but ultimately the core of the dreams involve me trying to cross a public park and not being able to pass because of a huge walrus (I'm talking humongous, folks!) that lives in the lake/pool at the middle of the park. I don't know why he (yes, it's a 'he') is not letting me pass. It feels like he is just enjoying being a dick to me and not like he is protecting what's on the other side.

- Looking ahead to the weekend:
Shooting range plans for Saturday morning were postponed for a week. Continue training for the High Rock Challenge in April by measuring my time for 10k. Hoping I have access to a treadmill for over an hour. We'll see.

On Sunday morning, I've got my first soccer game of the season... VERY EXCITED about this! Though, I suspect I will be hating it Monday morning. =)

Go out and enjoy the sunshine! Be sure to wear a jacket.

Until next time, faithful reader.....

Bad Habit and Coincidences

Howdy friend,

I've been really upset with myself lately for developing a pretty bad habit which had manifested itself first via online chats and has been more evident as of late IMO. Unfortunately, it has permeated my vocabulary and everyday dialogue. I now have a tendency to start sentences with the word "so". Perfectly capable conversation starters such as "How are you today?" turn into the ugly "So how are you today?" Normal statements like "I ran into John the other day" devolve into "So I ran into John the other day." (... and? what happened?) It may not seem that bad at first... but when every other sentence starts with "So..." it can officially be labeled a problem. I think it may have started as a nervous tic that I got too accustomed to using.

I'm trying to snap out of it. Occasionally, I catch myself when I use it and delete the offending two letter word.

Oh well... we'll see what happens... maybe I can also work on my two other 'problems': my incessant 'lol'ing and '...'ing.

*ahem* moving right along...

What was it that I was saying about coincidences last week when I was half drunk (*cough*cough* half?) and slightly coherent?

Ah, yes...

I sometimes find myself saying profound crap and forgetting it minutes later when I'm extremely tired or intoxicated. Both conditions require a state of mind that is different from the way I normally think.

This time I reasoned that there are no such thing as... coincidences.

I can't say if this qualifies as a profound statement or not because I still have lots of my life to finish living - presumably - but it makes for an interesting conversation (argument?) starter. I feel 'coincidences' are like signs on the roadway of our life. When we're out driving, walking, riding, etc... we don't read each and every sign on the road but every now and then there is one that will stand out and make you take notice. These are the times where we may notice the 'sign' while in the presence of someone or something that sticks in our memory. That is what a coincidence is like. It's simply the recognition of some seemingly random occurrence around us that we interpret as conveniently fitting into the present situation. Maybe it was just meant to be.

Coincidences are simply:
- just another marker on the path/road
- "sign posts" on our individual lifepaths

Granted, sometimes the paths cross with others. The road is shared and the "coincidences" may also be shared. It's not unlike driving with other cars on the road. You're not all going to the same destination but you may share time on the road.

Well, boys and girls, this is my exit.

Until next time, faithful reader......

Introspective and Contemplative Musings...

I'm going to dig deep into 'me' today... You can always leave now before things get messy... This will not be a light-hearted entry or one filled with interesting anecdotes of my quotidian life...

Still here?

OK then. Suit yourself. You've been warned...

First off, I'm doing this because it's the only method I haven't tried yet to get over this mental funk that I feel I'm in. All the bravado and energy I started the year with is starting to fade just a little and I'm looking to recapture that spark.

You should also know that I hate opening up and exposing myself too much. I've always felt it wasn't in my nature to do so. However, I now feel it's not nature but nurture (or maybe the lack of it) that's at the heart of things.

Bear with me as I open up a little bit. As this is serving as a thought dump, I may end up all over the place and you're not obligated to connect the dots.

- Over the years, I've been told I have emotional barriers. (It happened as recently as a few days ago) Though this may be true, I've never given it much serious thought before today. You can consider this entry a rudimentary self-exploration to what's going on in my noggin. (More stalling? Damn...)

- I'm accustomed to repressing, hiding, or masking my true feelings on many occasions. So much so that I end up on one of two extremes: (1) not being able to open up when I really want to, or (2) I keep things inside to the point that I uncontrollably let out some emotion (usually anger but it's not limited to that).

- I have a constant need to feel like I have to do anything and everything to the best of my ability. If I put in a half-assed effort to something, I usually feel like I let myself down. This need, however, is coupled with a need to impress others. If I feel I'll fail at meeting either of the two needs, I usually abandon that activity altogether whenever possible. It's better for me to not do anything than to fuck it up. This can't be healthy... and being aware of it now, I hope to change it. I hope it this old dog can still learn some new tricks.

- I was talking to my sister about something the other day. Essentially, people don't understand the degree to which we were made to feel like sh*t growing up. This was because of our dad and his constant put-downs. We were never good enough in his eyes. (Except when we did something he could brag about to co-workers about, then we were HIS kids. Every other time we were our MOM'S kids.) He was very vocal in reminding us on a consistent basis that we wouldn't amount to much and that we weren't very good at anything.

One residual side-effect of this is that I find it hard to accept compliments or praise. I justify this by easily dismissing it because I feel I can always do better and/or be better. It's almost as if who I am or anything I do is not praise-worthy. I tend to devalue myself because that's what I grew up with. The positive application of this attitude has been to drive myself to strive for excellence - and, when possible, perfection - in anything I do. Though when I feel that I can't do things well I abandon it altogether (see above). However, I also find that I usually stop myself from even trying if I deem I cannot do things well.

- I feel there are many people who are okay with mediocrity and accept their own limitations. This bothers me greatly and, personally, I cannot. Maybe it's a matter of perspective and they feel they are the best they can be. Maybe they don't realize they can be more than they are. On the contrary, I constantly feel like I should be challenging myself to be better in all aspects of my life, to be a better son, a better brother, a better worker, a better friend, a better lover.

Some things are easier to envision and extremely difficult to put into practice for me. I wish I could throw caution to the wind and not give a damn about the consequences but all I seem to think about are the what if's.

I was reminded of a quote I once heard and I read it again recently: older people do not regret what they have done but rather what they have not. I really need to take charge of things and not put myself in a position where I will regret anything later in life.

- I have never learned to properly deal with failure because I was made to feel like it wasn't a natural part of life. It was either success or nothing. Failure never seemed like an option for me. This is why I think I don't take a chance on anything... I need to know what I'm doing and how I'm doing it so I don't mess things up... It's not matter of preparedness but just me not wanting to fail.

- I'm afraid to open up to people because I've been made to feel like it is a sign of weakness. I hate being this way and, at times, try very hard to not get sucked into that emotional black hole where I disconnect from others. It's difficult for me to gauge how much is too much when I finally manage to share my feelings with others. Which is why I fear opening up in the first place. My apologies to those who have been frustrated by my tight-lipped nature...

- "Sand is so overrated. It's just tiny little rocks."

I recently saw a movie that I hadn't seen in years (one of my faves, actually) and it got me to thinking about things. I empathize with Joel. He's a shy man who has a self-perceived dull and uninteresting life, yet he has a lot of pent-up creativity and a sense of craziness about him. For much of my life, I've routinized my life to going to work and going home (rinse and repeat). Even Joel's experience with "fall[ing] in love with every woman I see that shows me the least bit of attention” is something I can relate to.

Watching this movie made me think about my life again. As beautiful and exciting as it would be, I can't expect to just sit around waiting to run into my own Clementine in Montauk (though, is a road trip in order?). I'm content where I am now... but is it enough? . . . . . .

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If I keep writing at this point, I'll veer off on a tangent that I don't want to go on now... so I'll leave you with a quote from the movie cited above.

Until next time, faithful reader...

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Joel: [in the house on the beach] I really should go! I've gotta catch my ride.
Clementine: So go.
Joel: I did. I thought maybe you were a nut... but you were exciting.
Clementine: I wish you had stayed.
Joel: I wish I had stayed to. NOW I wish I had stayed. I wish I had done a lot of things. I wish I had... I wish I had stayed. I do.
Clementine: Well I came back downstairs and you were gone!
Joel: I walked out, I walked out the door!
Clementine: Why?
Joel: I don't know. I felt like I was a scared little kid, I was like... it was above my head, I don't know.
Clementine: You were scared?
Joel: Yeah. I thought you knew that about me. I ran back to the bonfire, trying to outrun my humiliation.
Clementine: Was it something I said?
Joel: Yeah, you said "so go." With such disdain, you know?
Clementine: Oh, I'm sorry.
Joel: It's okay.
[Walking Out]
Clementine: Joely? What if you stayed this time?
Joel: I walked out the door. There's no memory left.
Clementine: Come back and make up a good-bye at least. Let's pretend we had one.
[Joel comes back]
Clementine: Bye Joel.
Joel: I love you...
Clementine: Meet me... in Montauk...

Dreaming and recall

When I was young, I would occasionally remember my dreams rather vividly. There are some that I can relive clearly in my mind's eye even to this day.

As an adult, I haven't been able to recall many of my dreams when I wake each morning. However, over the past few weeks, I've been remembering snippets of dreams. Visual splinters that I hope to piece together to make sense of them and reawaken my consciousness. I've realized that as I've gotten older I've become hyper-rational, overly analytical, and much more "grounded". I've become a prisoner to the physical plane of existence.

It's always been hard for me to tap into my arcane spiritual side. But the few times I've breached that wall, I would lament not being to tap into it as easily as others around me have. I suspect my own personal psychological barriers were created during my childhood (all part of my memory suppression).

I don't really know why I haven't tried to return to that state of curiosity, of exploration, and of open-mindedness that I had when I was a teen and young adult... but I can always try again. Now that I'm remembering my dreams, even if they come to me in fragments, I'm craving more. I try and go to bed with the thought of being able to recall my dreams in the morning. Though, I can't say with any certainty that this is the reason why I'm recalling more dreams and dream fragments, I am happy that it is happening now.

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Last night's 'clip':
I was driving in my car down a straight road in the day time. I think there was a passenger next to me but I'm not sure. While driving I saw roadkill - I'm certain it was a raccoon - in middle of my lane. I swerved slightly to the right avoid it.

That was all I remembered but apparently, after looking up the elements of the dream, there is a lot that I can take out of this. Below is the breakdown from each component of the dream.

Roadkill
To see roadkill in your dream, represents unavoidable death. The death may be a symbolic death representing an end to a habit, behavior or idea. It is time to let go of old habits and put those ideas to rest, as you are only prolonging the inevitable. Alternatively, it suggests that there is some issue in your past that is hindering your pursuit of your goals.

Animals
To see animals in your dream, represents your own physical characteristic, primitive desires, and sexual nature, depending on the qualities of the particular animal. Animals symbolizes the untamed and uncivilized aspects of yourself. Refer to the specific animal in your dream.

To dream that you are saving the life of an animal, suggests that you are successfully acknowledging certain emotions and characteristics represented by the animal.

Raccoon
To see a raccoon in your dream, signifies deceit, thievery, and of false friends secretly conspiring against you.

Driving
To dream that you are driving a vehicle, signifies your life's journey and your path in life. The dream is telling of how you are moving and navigating through life. Alternatively, driving a car in your dream, is analogous to your sex life and sexual performance. Consider how you are driving and what kind of car you are driving and how it relates to your waking sex life.

Car/Automobile
To dream that you are driving a car denotes your ambition, your drive and your ability to navigate from one stage of your life to another. Consider how smooth or rough the car ride is. If you are driving the car, then you are taking an active role in the way your life is going. Overall, this dream symbol is an indication of your dependence and degree of control you have on your life.

To dream that you are riding in an automobile, signifies that even in pleasant situations, you will still be restless and uneasy.

Day
To dream of a sunny day, symbolizes clarity and/or pleasantness. You are seeing things clearly.

Street/Road
To see a street in your dream, symbolizes your life's path. The condition of the street reflects how much control you have over the direction of your life.

To see a road in your dream indicates your sense of direction and pursuit of your goals. If the road is straight and narrow, then it means that your path to success is going according as planned.

Right
To dream of the right, represents conscious reality, deliberate action and rational thoughts. It may also be a pun on the rightness of an idea, decision, or plan. The dream is offering encouragement and telling you that you are doing the right thing or that you are on the right path. Alternatively, perhaps you need to stand up for your "rights". Or it may also represent your right leaning political views.
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Food for thought...

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On a completely tangential side note... I'm about a week away from consistently being below 200 pounds!! WOOHOO!!!
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Until next time, faithful reader...

RaUM: La Reconquista

Hello again,

Welcome back.

I've been staying true to the purpose of this blog which is, essentially, to not post anything if it feels like I'm forcing myself to write something. Posting an entry for the sake of writing anything seems to ruin the spirit of what I've got going here. The main reason why I haven't written a lot lately is not a lack of inspiration but rather a lack of time.

Much of this has been due to my indulgent personality. Once I find something I really enjoy, I tend to stick to it like glue. It's a bit obsessive, I know, but it's probably built into my DNA because I always seem to default to that. I often find myself fighting the urge to continue with the same old thing - whether it's a person, place, or thing - until I (1) finally give in and manage to forget about it or (2) find a new thing to focus on. Call me stubborn... or whatever else you will... =P

With my teaching job at QC starting at the end of January, I knew that I wouldn't be able to go out as often as I could in the weeks leading up to the start of the Spring semester. I took advantage of my free time by going out practically every night (there was a stretch where I honestly could not recall the last time I had been home before midnight). I spent the majority of my free time traveling around town, satiating my wanderlust with weekend getaways, keeping myself in good company, and simply enjoying all of these experiences. This has also forced me to give up pieces of the "old" me, for better and for worse. I stopped being a couch potato which is a good thing (though I still manage to make time for certain shows like Lost and 24, e.g.). I stopped blogging which, between you and me, is bad - for you and for me. I may have posted, albeit sporadically, in January, I'm sure there would have been more to read had I not been out gallivanting.

My current 'indulgence' is my teaching gig. I LOVE my new job!! I can't say that in enough ways to truly express how fortunate I feel to have the opportunity to teach others and to have found something that I am truly passionate about. Knowing I'm having a direct impact on others' lives - No! that isn't overstating the truth - is an intoxicating feeling. But that feeling is tempered by the understanding that after they're done with my class, they are now representative of me and my work. I take that seemingly minor fact seriously and I do everything I can to make sure that my kids come out of my class learning SOMETHING that they can apply in their other classes and in the 'real world'.

Now... I don't want to make it sound as if I regret how I've spent my free time. On the contrary, I've had an amazing start to the year! There is so much more for me to do, to see, and experiences that I hope to discover (and, in some instances, rediscover) in the near future. Though I did feel like I've neglected the blog a little over the past few weeks and didn't want to lose this part of myself. Despite my inability to properly manage my time, I will continue to compose my musings on my digital acres (brought to you by Blogger.com) so long as they continue to be random and unforced entries.

Well... that's all I've got for now (FYI, there is another entry in the works... should be posted some time this weekend).

Until next time, faithful reader...

Not Exactly New Year's Resolutions... More Like Life Goals.

Welcome to the year 2009, faithful reader:

I hope you all enjoyed yourselves this past New Year's Eve.

My goal this New Year's Eve was to do something different. Something that was outside of my comfort zone. I did accomplish that goal. Yet, I wasn't surrounded by friends and loved ones and I underestimated how lonely that would make me feel (despite having a decent time on NYE). It was strange to be surrounded by goombas and guidettes who are rolling in their tight little circles with a male-to-female ratio of nearly 3-to-1.

As the ball dropped in Times Square, the countdown was on. Despite watching it on the flat screen TV's scattered around the bar, the patrons still managed to mess up the countdown with loud, inebriated voices. I found myself seated next to a little old Italian man in a tan sweater and thought to myself "Is this what my life has become?" LOL. I'm kind of glad I didn't have a kiss at midnight considering the options immediately around me. (it was a sausage factory, after all)

Don't get me wrong. Free booze and free dinner on NYE is not a terrible consolation prize especially when considering a female friend was my benefactor last night. (Wait... now that I think about it... was I expected to put out? LOL) It certainly wasn't the way I thought I'd end up spending this NYE but I don't regret it.

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I suppose in the spirit of the season, I'm obligated by social norms to lay out a series of resolutions that I plan to work on throughout the year (or completely ignore and bitch about later in the year as I start a self-induced pity party). I personally think resolutions are BS. If we were serious about making a change in our lives, we shouldn't rely on January 1 to be the start date (though I certainly understand how symbolically useful it is). It's the old "Be the change you want to see in the world" philosophy. Rather than provide you with a list of resolutions, I'll leave a checklist of things (life goals, if you will) that I hope to accomplish in my lifetime. Let's see how many of these things I can scratch off the list in 2009:

- Teach a class (this is imminent but it stays on my list until the first day of class. I take nothing for granted.)
- Drive cross country (East-West)
- Drive cross country (North-South)
- Have kids (yes plural... I think kids need a sibling)
- Travel for the first time to (international): Egypt, Italy, Greece, Australia, Chile, Peru, Argentina, Brazil, southern France, Japan
- Travel for the first time to (domestic): Washington DC, Pheonix, Los Angeles, San Diego, Alaska
- Revisit: Portugal, Spain, Morocco, Colombia, Miami
- Go on a cruise
- Karaoke (for real: with the desire to actually sing a little and not due to peer pressure... lol)
- Write a short story
- Learn to play the guitar
- Learn to make paella
- Buy a house
- Fall in love again
- Have LASIK surgery (I love wearing glasses but sometimes it's a bit of a drag)
- Create a new alcoholic beverage to serve at parties
- Forgive my father rather than simply live with who he is and what he did
- Walk my daughter down the aisle at her wedding (clearly I would NEED a daughter first to be able to do this... lol)
- Learn to fluently curse in 3 languages, then 5 languages, then 8, then 10 (I think I'd stop at ten...lol)
- Get a tattoo (one that is meaningful and has personal value to me. Not just one that I picked out of an artist's portfolio)
- Learn to dance the tango
- Take a yoga class (I'd probably hate it but I'd like to try it at least once)

There's more... I know there is... I just can't remember any other things I'd like to add. I'll throw more things on here as they come to me. Consider this a starter list for my life goals. =)

I also have a short list of things I'd like to work on for the year. These aren't resolutions, per se. They're just a list of things I'd like to start correcting during the next phase of my life. Considering this is more personal and not something I'm willing to openly share, I'm leaving some words "blank". You can then play along by trying to guess the words (like a lame version of Mad Libs - without the parts of speech):
- Learn to separate ---------ship from --------ity
- Learn to ---st others
- Learn to eliminate lingering s--- d---t
- Learn to not question the m-----s of others
- Don't sweat the details. Simply, enjoy the ride and live life!

Until next time, faithful reader....