In a few days I am scheduled to take a short trip, a mini-vacation if you will. Not counting funerals this will be the first time off and travel that I’ve had in over a year. Actually it has been closer to two years since I had any real vacation time. I know that the change in routine and scenery will do me good. I need to break out of the rut into which I have sunk.
But when I anticipate the trip I have some trepidation. This unsettled feeling occurs for several reasons. First and foremost this will be the first time I have flown without Michele in years. In December I took my first solo road trip in over 8 years and I found it very strange to be in the car without her. Several times during the drive to Illinois and back I found myself talking out loud to her in order to comfort myself. I am sure that going to the airport and getting on the plane will also bring up memories for me. I am very much looking forward to seeing my friends and spending time away from here, but I am not looking forward to the travel itself.
Secondly I am worried about my cats. I’ve always worried about them when ever we’ve been gone. I have to double and triple check their food supply and water, and I want to make sure that all the doors are wedged open so they don’t accidentally close themselves into a room. Michele understood my concerns and allowed me to express them. Nothing bad has ever happened to any of the cats while we were away but that hasn’t stopped me from fretting about it. My impending trip has me more worked up than usual since Nekko and Taz are all that is left of my family. Michele and I plus the two cats were a family, and with her gone I am acutely aware of the cats. The rational, intellectual part of me knows they’ll be fine. However, the emotional, animal part of me knows that life can change forever in a heartbeat. Leaving the house to go to the airport and then to Massachusetts for four days will be extremely hard.
Finally, just being away from my stuff will be difficult. When I was single, travel was easy in a sense because I really wasn’t attached to where I lived - I was nomadic even in my own home. Through my relationship with Michele I grew to appreciate a home of my own, a place that was ours and ours alone. Travel was nice in part because we ended up really looking forward to being home again. But travel was fun because the biggest part of “home”, Michele, came with me. This time she will travel with me in spirit, and in my heart. And the “home” I’ll return to will still be comforting, but it will also be empty.
In just over a month (December 6 - January 10) I’ve had 500 unique visitors to this site view 941 pages. This may not sound like a lot, but for a weblog that is largely the emotional ramblings of a middle-aged philosopher-hacker, I think this is a rather nice number.
The new statistics are a truer measure of zanshin.net’s readers as only browsers are counted. The various software robots that crawl the web indexing what they find are still coming here, they just aren’t getting counted. Zanshin easily receives 200 “hits” a day when you factor in all the automated visitors. While my ego prefers the higher number, my sensibilities are happier with the truer figure.
Want to get a better idea of your site’s traffic? Have A Mint
For some time now I have wanted an iPod. And in recent debates with myself I finally came to the conclusion that having a portable MP3 player was more important than a new cell phone. In truth, my cell phone usage has plummeted since Michele died; she was the principal reason I had a cell phone. I wanted to be able to call her anytime, and for her to be able to reach me at anytime. So, with less need for a new phone I shifted my focus to getting an iPod.
You can start for as little as $99 and get a 512MB iPod Shuffle. Certainly this is affordable, and very portable. But then you start to think, “Gee… for $50 I can get a 1GB Shuffle and have TWICE the capacity.”
Now, at $150 you realize that you are only $50 away from the entry level iPod nano. Uber small and uber cool. Color screen, click wheel, and 2GB of capacity. Okay. The Shuffle is out. I want a screen.
Fine.
That’s settled. $199.
…
But wait a minute… you know, with 4GB of storage I could carry a large selection of music with me all the time. And the 4GB model is only $50 more; the per GB drops from $100 each to $62.50. Much better deal.
And, really, $250 isn’t that much for an incredible bit of technology you can carry in your shirt pocket. Free laser engraving, free shipping. I’ll take it.
…
But then on the iPod page of the Apple Store you see the 30 GB model. It does video in addition to pictures and music. And at only $50 more the per GB price is now down to $10. And it comes in black (so does the Nano to be fair).
I’m getting a $99 iPod for only $333.33 (shipping and taxes included) because it’s only $50 more. Sheesh.
(What?! You thought I’d go for the 60GB model on the same principle? It’s a $100 more… that’s way too much.)
Over the weekend I purchased a second set of insoles for my work shoes. The first set has made a huge difference in the amount of pain I have from my fallen arches, but I was getting tired of swapping them from the brown work shoes to the black ones and back again. So, Saturday morning before getting my hair cut I went to the New Balance store and bought a second pair.
After waiting (and waiting) for the talkative couple in front of me to complete their purchase I presented the insoles to the clerk. She immediately started the interrogation. “What’s your name?” “How is that spelled?” “What’s your phone number?” “Your address?”
I interrupted her rather curtly saying that I just wanted to buy the insoles, and asking if I could please do that without giving my life history. She tried to explain that they would only keep the information in case I lost the receipt, blah blah blah.
When she asked for my information again I just looked at her. Eventually she got the hint and rang up my purchase, now angry that I wouldn’t play by their rules. When did buying some thing with CASH money become a data collection exercise? We as good little indoctrinated consumers think that we have to jump through all the hoops the merchants setup between us and nirvana (having their product in our home). While I certainly agree that there are some forms of payment that are less guaranteed (personal checks) than others, I don’t think using a guaranteed payment vehicle (cash, credit card with authorization number) is an excuse to perform thinly disguised marketing surveys.
Henceforth I plan on making up random data for all cash register surveys into my private life. I think I’ll be George Orwell.
Dear Sweetheart,
Today is the 90th day since you died. Three months. I can still see the final moments we shared together as clearly as I can see my hand today. I still relive the last weekend we spent here in this apartment. I think often of the good times we had; traveling to New York, seeing Eddie Izzard, swimming in our own pool. The days seem to be passing at a more normal pace now, but the nights are still long.
The last month has been rough. Learning that my contract was in jeopardy really put me into a tailspin. I didn’t want to look for a new job, I didn’t want to interview, I didn’t want anything to change. I did manage to sneak up on myself and send out a few resumes resulting in two or three potential positions. I even had one face-to-face meeting with a recruiter. The whole time he was talking I kept thinking to myself, “I really don’t care… just hire me or don’t, but please shut the hell up.” Not the best attitude for a job search.
In the end I think one tenant of our shared philosophy about life played out again. What was meant to happen, happened, because I was open to its possibility. And because I waited for it. Rushing into a new job would have been a huge mistake; one I would have regretted for a long time to come. Being able to continue on with my current employment situation is, for now, the best thing for me.
I know that I am a creature of habit, and so many of my habits have been disrupted or permanently destroyed by your death, that I can really bear to lose another major one (like work) and expect to function normally afterwards. With time I will build new habits in my personal life to account for your being gone and then I’ll be able to shoulder changes in other parts of my life.
The apartment manager shared with me that because of my situation I could end the lease just by giving 30-days notice. While that is good to know, I can’t imagine not being in the last place we shared. I do not particularly care for this apartment, but together we made it a home. Without you here it isn’t really a home any more, but the echos of you linger in this space so here I’ll stay - for now.
The hardest part recently has been losing more of my immediate memories of you. I’ve learned a couple of memory context tricks that allow me to hear your voice, and sometimes see your face. But I cannot replace the feel of your touch. I was so unaccustomed to touch of any sort when we met, and by the time of our parting I had grown to crave it and relish it. The loss of your fingers in my hair, your hands rubbing my feet or back, the tickle of your hair on my nose, the warmth of your body next to me on a cold winter night is almost unbearable.
I miss you so very much Tinkerbell. When I cook or bake, watching our favorite television shows (I still can’t watch “I Love Lucy”), or just having dinner out. I know that you will always be a part of me, which makes me glad. But I know that every day is carrying me farther and farther away from you, which makes me sad.
Chili for dinner tonight, Sweetie, with corn bread. Later in the week I’m going to make corned beef stew. I recently made a chocolate cake to take to a friends house for dinner - it was a huge hit. I think I need to make our spaghetti sauce again soon too.
I lov eyou Tinkerbell I miss eyou I ador eyou I am still in lov with eyou Pooh
1680 x 1050
Four weeks ago when I was informed that my contract wasn’t funded for the next contract year it was a bitter pill to swallow. Coming close on the heels of Michele’s death I found myself reeling; uncertain of the future. At the time I had very bittersweet thoughts about Michele: I was pleased that she didn’t have to suffer through yet another round of employment roulette and saddened that my closet confidant, with her wisdom and keen insights, wasn’t there to support me.
In the intervening weeks I have had numerous conversations late at night in the darkness of our bedroom with her. Sometimes I talk out loud and others times just to myself. My belief was that she would respond to my through my heart and that if I just allowed it to unfold naturally, the right solution would present itself.
And it did.
This afternoon about 4:00 I was informed by both my employer and the contract holder that my contract was going to be picked up for another year. Yes, I am employed now through January 12, 2007. How do you spell relief: jay. oh. bee.
Of course there are still a dozen or more individuals where I work who are out in the cold. Some I know have found other positions, others I am unsure about. I’m not sure what it says about our society that there are so many situations where one person’s good fortune is another’s bad luck. I have been on both sides of that equation more than once. For reasons that ought to be obvious to anyone I am very grateful that I am on the fortunate side this time.
The hard part now will be to keep the ear-to-ear grin off my face while at work. Whatever part my professionalism, knowledge, or ability played in my selection for renewal doesn’t take away from the same attributes of my fellow teammates who aren’t in my position tonight.
My guardian angel certainly took care of my the past four weeks. Thank you Michele.
Apartment living sucks. It’s like living on the back lot of the Jerry Springer Show during audition season.
The apartment we moved into in late June 2004 has three apartments sharing direct contact, one to the south, one to the west, and one upstairs.
South The neighbor to our south was a little old lady who’s only contribution to our lives was a false fire alarm. We were only aware of her being there on those rare occasions when we were coming or going at the same time. Otherwise her apartment was a black hole of silence. Perfect apartment neighbor. Then one day she came and knocked on the door saying her smoke detector was going off. When asked if there was smoke or fire she said no. I thought it was the intermittent beep that happens when the battery is running low. Grabbing the kitchen stool I followed her into her apartment. Sure enough there was a loud, repeating beeping coming from the bedroom. Once up on top of the stool I realized the sound was coming from the bed side table alarm clock and not the smoke detector. Turns out she had been out of town for a week and forget to reset the alarm before leaving.
West On the day we moved in we nearly put the bed in the west bedroom. However, as we were putting the frame together we could hear through the wall the television of the neighbors to the west. That was enough for us to move our bedroom to the east bedroom. Even today, whenever I go into the west room, or the west bathroom I can hear the constant dull murmur of television through the wall. I think they leave it on all the time, day and night.
Upstairs Our original upstairs neighbors were two twenty-something males who both worked for a local lawn care company. Their garage stall, which shared a common wall with our bedroom, was full of lawn supplies and two motorcycles. Their single allowed parking space was filled with three trucks. Two commercial pickups from the lawn care business, and a personal pickup. The eight apartments that shared the parking pad each were allowed one space in addition to their garage stall. And the lease quite clearly stated that the garage could not be used solely for storage. We complained early and often as having the lot full of their huge vehicles made getting into and out of our garage stall difficult. They were also noisy with their stereo from time to time. We were both pleased last spring when they moved out
The apartment sat empty for several months, and we enjoyed ever moment of silence knowing that the peace would not last for long. Every time we’d hear the place being shown I’d peer out the peep hole and try to get an idea of who was looking at it. One couple was pregnant and had a two-year-old sized crumb cruncher in tow. We were very relived when they didn’t rent.
The renters turned out to be a twenty-something couple. At first we were barely aware of them, but there were some early warning signs that Michele picked up on that have been born out by the soap opera like proceedings I live under now.
I really need a low-light video camera so I can capture these special moments forever. Maybe I could create one of those “digital camera, $500, apartment rent $1000, neighbors who want to be on the Springer Show, priceless” commercials and put it on the Internet.
P.S. Their miniature dachshund shits all over my concrete patio.
It was a long four day weekend for me. I watched too many movies.
Ghost Still as tender and beautiful a love story as when I first saw it. This was one of the films I had rented for Michele and I to watch the day she died. The final scene left me in tears today.
The Rock Not the worst action film ever, but not the best one either. Just a couple hours of testosterone to waste time with.
La Femme Nakita The original “Point of No Return”, and a far better movie from start to finish.
The Abyss While the cold war message isn’t as relevant today as it might have been when this was originally released, it’s still a good film.
Minority Report I enjoy near-future movies because I want to see what other people think the next 10, 20, or 30 years will bring in terms of technology. This film has some very interesting thoughts about where we’ll be in 50 years.
The Bourne Identity While it deviates from the original Robert Ludlum book almost immediately, this was a surprisingly good action film.
The Bourne Supremacy Not as good as the first film above, but still reasonably good. Since there were originally three books about this character I suspect we’ll see the “Bourne Ultimatum” before too much longer.
Sorcerer A taut thriller that isn’t even out on DVD as far as I know. Originally I saw this on the late, late show and years later lucked onto a VHS copy of it. well worth the effort to find and watch.
On The Beach Every bit as good today as when it first was released. A chilling look at one potential future we as humans face if we don’t settle down and stop thinking that force is the answer.
One of the hardest parts about coping with Michele being gone is the hours and hours of time fill. Most week nights aren’t too awful; between dinner and household chores I can usually fill the time until 8:30 or 9:00. Then it’s an hour of mindless television before going to sleep.
Weekends have two speeds, slow and excruciatingly slow. This weekend has been the later, excruciating. Thursday evening was wonderful as I had dinner at a friend’s home. We played games and talked until the wee hours of the morning. It had been a long time since I was up until 2:30 and it felt good. Friday morning I slept in until past 10:00, something of a record for me lately. But then reality set in, I had four long days to fill before Tuesday with its normal work day arrived to fill the time for me.
I have watched movies, been to the book store, grocery shopped, and spent time digging through my storage lockers. About the only real thing I accomplished was getting all of Michele’s old work clothes to Goodwill. I guess I never realized how much of my time was spent just being with Michele. I don’t have good “by myself” skills anymore, if I ever did.
Earlier this evening I chatted via VoIP with a friend and managed to get myself laughing uncontrollably. I realized that the laughter was a way of dumping stress, of letting out the tense energy that builds inside of me as I struggle to cope with hour after hour of unending emptiness. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep.
Only 35 hours until I return to work Tuesday.