Why do you post comments?

For my one hundreth post, rather than write something new about myself, I wanted to ask a question and find out: Why does anyone choose to post a comment when they read someone else's article or post?

Is the reason that you post a comment really to say that "I agree [or disagree] with what you said"? Is it to post how you have had a similar experience? Is it to encourage or discourage the person to go on a certain path? Is it to offer some advice or impart wisdom? Is it to share knowledge or how you feel? Perhaps the sentiment that "I want to be part of your life" rings true?

Maybe, the reason is less altruistic? Do you want to increase your readership? Increase the number of visits on your blog? Is the reason to badmouth someone or something? I haven't been blogging long enough to see or experience the less savory sides of this electronic medium, so it is difficult to think of other less altruistic reasons.

I like to think that I post comments because I am interested in what you have to say, as inane as it may or may not be. I want a reason to participate tangentially in the life of the person I comment to. I hope that the suggestions and advice I give are taken into consideration. I want to let you know that in some things, you are not alone.

I think that without these dreams of seeing the world, experiencing something new (and sometimes exhilarating or painful) that you've never experienced before, there wouldn't be much point in living. It's part of growing, to incorporate something new with the old.

So, do tell, why do you post comments?

The baying of the hounds continues...

I am beginning to wonder if I may be giving out some strange vibes that I've not been putting out in the past couple of years. If you read my last post where I mentioned that I was getting an unusual amount of attention lately from the opposite sex. I can't tell you how pleased I am to be receiving this attention. However, it's beginning to appear that it was not an isolated occurance. Here are a few more items that happened to me today.

I went to the bank to see if the funds I had pulled out from my retirement nest egg had cleared into my account (yes, I decided to pay off the credit card bills before things got really out of hand since they bumped me up to 35% for missing payments. Ouch!), I was waiting for my turn with the bank teller, and I was pulled aside by a woman who then told me that she thought I was really cute. I thought she might be a little crazy, but I thanked her for the compliment. I could tell she wanted me to do something, but I had no idea what. I'm not that guy they have on the covers of all those romance novels who would tilt her back and kiss her thoroughly in thanks. (In hindsight, I wonder what would have happened if I had...)

When I was called up by the teller, I was greeted by this attractive woman who then kept her hand in contact with mine the entire time I was at the booth with her. (Did you know that Washington Mutual has free standing booths instead of counters now?) I'll be honest and say that I really wanted to pull my hand away and hide it behind my back no matter how attractive she was. I was getting spooked, I suppose.

Then I went to class and the young lady I mentioned a few weeks ago decided to have an impromptu conversation with me in the hallway that led to an invitation for a meal after class. Of course, I agreed to it, wondering if I could afford to pay for it. After the meal was over, she would not let me pay for a thing, even the tip. She told me that she enjoyed the meal and the conversation. Then, we went our seperate ways. I felt weird not paying for the meal. (And I enjoyed the meal with her too) I have to say I am certainly intrigued by her.

I don't know, I feel like I should jump for joy or something silly like that. I am not that good looking. Maybe I am just being oversensitive. Oh well. I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Predator turned Prey

I was sitting at Panera Bread again where I had been pretending to study. Probably failing at it because it's President's day and far too many people are going by for me to really concentrate on OSI models and TCP/IP encapsulation. For a while, I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with me because every where I looked, I was being stared at. Not the momentary glance before returning back to the conversation with their fellow lunch partners. Oh no. I am talking about a full on stare. As if I had a large protrusion coming out of my forehead.

When I first arrived to order my food, the girls behind the counter were staring at me. I didn't think much about it because I am a regular but the girl who served me had a smile on her face as she looked at me. And she is the one who usually looks like she has the world on her shoulders. I mean even the manager was staring at me!

To test my theory that I was being checked out (what a geek I am), I got up to get a refill on the coffee, and as I walked by this one woman, she kept her eyes on me until I walked on by. And when I returned to my table, as I settled myself, I looked up to see her eyes unabashedly on me again. After I made eye contact with her, she turned back to her lunch companion. A bit after that, I went to relieve myself, and as I walked by the self serve soda fountain, another woman was looking right at me, even when I made eye contact with her. I had to break off eye contact as I almost walked into someone else.

Maybe my shirt was hanging out of my pants and I just didn't know it. I took a peek at myself in the mirror to see if I had some ugly red mark on my face (or something equally disturbing), and I have to say that there wasn't anything wrong with me. A while later, I glanced up in thought as I was searching for the right word while typing on my laptop, and another woman was staring at me. Finally, as I packed my things to leave, I saw in the window the reflection of another woman looking at me. What is going on?

Most of these women were in my age range. Now, I know I cannot be mistaken for Adonis. This isn't humbleness speaking here, I am being realistic about my appearance. I think my brother, who is an avid snowboarder and ex-cross country runner is in far better shape than I have ever been. I might be mistaken for a slightly stocky line backer. (Ok, ok, if I were really a linebacker, I would be scrawny.)

I am only about five foot nine inches, so I'm about average in height for an american male (for an asian, I would be considered tall). Though I am not exactly an inactive sloth (I ride my mountain bike alot and play paintball), I really like to eat, so I constantly have to battle with my waistline. In fact, at this time of the year, I am probably close to my heaviest because the weather has a great deal to do with whether or not I get to be very active. To add to this less than godly appearance, I was sporting a few days worth of facial hair (which still isn't much, since I don't have to shave on a regular basis) and my hair was a bit longer than I normally keep it.

I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but it just doesn't make any sense to me. I have mentioned in the past that being checked out by attractive women is, for me, a nice ego boost. But several women in one five hour period? That is very unusual for me to attract such attention.

As I think upon it now, I find it amusing how the tables have been turned on me. I was the one that has been placed on display like a slab of meat ready for carving. Usually, I am the one doing the staring. I have to admit it was very disconcerting. Especially in light of my recent decision that I would not let the lack of a female in my life paralyze me from experiencing life as it should be.

Funny in hindsight, yet oddly disconcerting. Of course, there might have been a rumor going around that some major asian movie actor was nearby and they thought I was that guy. Ok, that's a bit far fetched, I agree. Yet, so is being stared at by large numbers of women like a tasty piece of meat.

The dawn is breaking.

I am wondering, what do you do when you discover that you have no one around to connect to? I mean that when you have feelings that you need to share with someone and everyone around you is centered on their own lives and affairs. When even the the closest of friends can't really understand what is going on because they don't get to share those experiences as we did in the past. Nor devote the time to be there in those moments when all you need is someone to just go out with and sit in an all night diner just talking about anything and everything over bottomless cups of coffee.

As my friends and I have grown older, we have taken different paths and accepted more responsibility. With these responsibilities, we have accepted certain restrictions on our lives that prevent us from being irresponsible. Such as hanging out at a diner until the sun arises once more. Or dropping by unexpectedly to hang out until 2 AM in the morning.

Circumstances are such that I have been freed from that vicious cycle of being more responsible and less flexible because of the demands of those responsibilities. I have returned to school, and while there certainly is responsibility, there isn't anyone that I can really talk to. Sure, I've met new people, have new potential friends that I share my time with, but there are times when I notice the age gap. It is especially noticable when they start asking me about things that they have no experience in. (Like what to do when chasing a girl or when they ask me how I am so familiar with the DOS operating system. I know I should feel honored that they trust me enough to ask me about some of these things.) But like all college students who are earning their way, they too work during their free time, so they don't have much time to while away either.

Now, I look to my close friends and regrettably, they are not able to accommodate my requests to hang out and talk about everything and nothing at all. Girlfriends, wives, husbands, children, and having to go to work in the morning now hold a central place in their lives. I don't begrudge them these things, as they have worked for and earned what responsibilities they now have.

I am ever appreciative when my friends draw me into their lives and are willing to share with me what goes on in their lives. I get opportunities to practice my parental skills, socialize, and see sights I haven't ever seen before. Without them, I probably would have lost my sanity already from all the stresses I am under.

However, I find that I often greet the dawn alone with all those words I have to say unsaid. I know that those held in words and feelings are stifled by the demands of life. I wonder if retaining what should have been shared stunts my mental and emotional growth in some way. So, being uncertain of where I can go and share, I ask these questions in the hopes that an answer might come to me.

Even the strong can feel weak

As everybody knows, I have been unemployed for over a year now and that I've gone back to school in the hopes of making myself more marketable as well as employable. And that I have been relying upon the meager distribution of funds that until recently, when the rug was pulled out from under me, had been doled out sparingly by the NYS DOL.

I've been rather quiet about how I feel about my situation after my initial outburst of anger over their negligent mishandling of my situation. Largely because I know how depressing it is to read about another person who has come upon rough times, knowing that, with the never ending financial demands of life, there is little margin between being employed and unemployed. As well as knowing that the selfsame reader might also find themselves on this rock of uncertainty and reverberate that depression and despair to others like a ripple through a still pond.

Generally, I try to stay upbeat, focus on what is important while doing that frantic scrambling for a job that might help to make ends meet as I march towards the goal of an engineering degree. However, in the quiet moments, when there is no one around to see, I occassionally succumb to the despair that I usually keep barely at bay by the skin of my teeth. In these moments where despair washes over me and threatens to overwhelm me by pulling me underneath those desperate waters, I feel the hot, damning warmth of unshed tears borne out of frustration rise to my face. Frustration over how my life went from promising to devastated.

It is at this point when I give over to that emotion and demand of no one why these things have happened to me. I demand of the quiescent walls of my room to tell me what I have done to deserve this unhappy circumstance I find myself in. And, of course, the ever so helpful and analytical part of my mind observes that the seemingly inconsequential decisions and actions on my part have lead me to this place where I can see that I have been cornered. What irony. Neatly boxed in by my own doing. And much like a game of chess, my actions and decisions have lead me to my own self defeat. Endgaming, as it were.

Yet, I know I haven't given over to depression (or defeat), partly because my pride won't let me and partly because I still can get angry (perhaps too easily because of the greatly increased stress), not apathetic about my situation. My pride, which I have mentioned before might well be my downfall, is what keeps my back straight and causes me to be defiant. I know that pride continues to drive me since I refuse to beg. I refuse to go to all of my friends who have jobs and pester them to help me get a position. I refuse to bend and while I might break, my pride demands that I stand tall even as the waves of misfortune do their best to drown me.

However, as much as my pride is a refuge in this storm, it is also the proverbial anchor that drags me down and hinders me from reaching safety. Pride makes me hesitant to take risks, unwilling to consider options that a less proud person would consider without second thought. It is the progeniture for the excuses I give when I look at a potential job and say it is not a position for me. And like fear, it paralyzes me and keeps me from seeing the way out of my predicament.

I don't know why I am sharing this here. I suppose it is because few enough people read this that I am comfortable in saying what I keep hidden from my family, my friends, and others who know me well. I know that this is merely a moment of weakness, temporary in nature, transitory emotion that I need to divest myself of. A sort of catharsis. (Hopefully without scaring or depressing those who do actually read it.)

Despite my current lack of options, I am still hopeful that tomorrow, the solution will make its happy and welcome appearance. I need not convince myself of this hope's validity. Because tomorrow, when I arise from my slumber, I will be focused again on the goal that is ever in sight, barely out of my reach. And tomorrow, I will continue to scramble, to struggle, and strive for things that I need to keep me going.

Contemplations on a green eyed girl

More than a foot of snow and no end in sight. Hrmm.... I think I may be doing a lot of shovelling tonight. In the meantime, I leave you with something I wrote yesterday but didn't get a chance to post:

I am writing this from my comfortable seat at Panera Bread. Today, I saw that girl with the uniquely colored eyes again. I was walking up to get myself another cup of coffee. I happened to glance away from the coffee island and I saw her sitting at a table. As I glanced at her, she looked up and glanced at me. Since I have already mentioned that I have a predilection to staring, I chose to turn my attention back to getting coffee for her sake. I was surpised to see her here again. One of the things I valued about eating here is that I get to see all walks of life here and now that I have been here on a semi-regular basis, I am now starting to notice the regulars.

What I couldn't help notice was the contrast in her expression from the first time I noticed her. Today, her expression was much more serious looking. Perhaps, it was because she didn't have a male friend to impress or joke around with. Perhaps it is because some large, over-commercialized, florist enrichening event is drawing near and her prospects are about as good as mine are. Yet somehow, I imagine that I don't meet her physical profile of a guy she would be interested in dating (in light of the guy she came in with the last time), so it didn't surprise me that I didn't get a welcoming smile from her.

As I sit here sipping my coffee, I watched her get up, refill her cup with soda and walk out the door. What struck me most about my first impression of her and this second sighting is that alone, she was much more closed. By closed, I mean that she was drawn into herself. And as I watched her walk away to who knows where, I noticed how she hugged her possesions closer to her as if to ward off strangers. Perhaps it was merely the chill of the weather, since it is about twenty five degrees outside and likely to snow tonight. But the action made me wonder about myself. Do I, like this green eyed girl, close myself off from others when I am alone? Does my body language say to others that I want to be alone?

Being unable to observe myself, I find it hard to tell.

Fear

If you have ever read the book Dune by Frank Herbert, you will probably recall the Litany Against Fear:

I must not fear
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over and through me.

And when it has gone past me, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

Fear, a part of the mind's recognition of impending danger or evil, can cause us to become paralyzed, incapable of doing what needs to be done as terror posseses us and then we may do something that has no reasonable explanation. As a person who suffers from acrophobia (fear of high places), I find that I often repeat a form of this mantra to help me cope with my fear of heights. For me, this actually works, enabling me to relax and begin to function again.

It has permitted me to stand (and work) on a catwalk sixty feet in the air and look down below with only a mild tingling of apprehension in my palms. Permitted me to stand atop a thirty foot ladder while working away on heavy equipment above my head without breaking into a cold sweat. Allowed me to continue working untethered while standing on two inches of plaster encased chicken wire a hundred feet above a concrete floor. This is a fear that I have overcome by doing two things: 1) Remind myself that this is all in my mind, thereby pushing it out of my mind and 2) continually find opportunities to test whether I have backslided by climbing to high places.

But what about fears that I haven't overcome? I suppose I can chalk up commitment as one of them. Fear of public speaking. Fear of embarrassment is another.

Fear has such a paralyzing effect, yet all fears are not equal. There are really two kinds of fear: Instinctual and learned. Fear of heights is instinctual, a natural protection mechanism. Fear of commiting, speaking in front of others or embarrassment is learned from past experience. Experience is gained from past mistakes or from observing others make mistakes. Mistakes happen because you don't know better. This may sound like a simple tautology, yet we often do repeat it. (And yes, I know I am oversimplifying this.)

However, with something like commitment, I am confident that some day, I will eventually overcome these fears. However, do you know what my greatest fear is? To go on through my life trying to overcome this fear of being alone that I will one day discover that I have done nothing with my life, squandered my talents and thus have nothing to show for it. To discover that I have done nothing to point at in my life that says to myself that I have accomplished something worthy of my talents and skills which I have and earned in this lifetime. To let my base instincts hinder me from achieving what I am capable of achieving.

And as I draw nigh on thirty years of age, this sudden apprehension that I am wasting my time on finding one woman to commit with has dawned on me. I recognize now my error and in the future, I must work on correcting my course before I wake up one day to realize my greatest fear. Now, if only I could find some way to combat the insidious distractions of loneliness and resist the tide of testosterone.

Though I have one question as I divert myself from this disaster in the making: Am I now being driven by my fears?

Life doesn't get easier once you're born

So, I've been telling anyone who will let me bend their ear my sob story. I rarely pull out the "woe is me" card because I think that all things considered, life has been pretty good. A bit lonely, but good. The ironic thing about what I've just said is that those who have been reading this blog probably hear more about the pains and irritations in my life than those who know me personally, because I don't really expect people on the internet to listen. (Or care for that matter. Whether you do or not is something I am interested in discovering. I think time will tell.)

To jump a bit off topic here, has anyone ever had their nose in a book or completely zoned out the world to the point that when you look up, you realize that no one is there? I am very good at that. Especially when I am working on my computer. It's the reason I love going to Panera bread and sitting there. I don't hear a thing and there are free coffee refills. There have been times I have sat there during lunch working away, then only to look up and realize that they were closing up the restaurant. I'm going to assume that I'm not alone in this well honed practice of ignoring the world. (If I am alone on this, well that makes me unique and people should pay me plenty of cash to study me.)

Back to topic. So, I pick my head out of my book, so to speak, and I realize something that I never realized before. There are females in my engineering classes this semester. Since I prefer to sit in the front, I never see them come in or know that they are there. Some of them are even attractive. Go figure. The last place I would expect to find an intelligent, attractive, logically minded person of the opposite sex would be fifteen feet behind me.

As luck would have it, we were working together in a group to do some of the labs, and I had the opportunity to retell my sob story to someone else who hadn't heard it before. And this someone happened to be female. In particular, she is about five foot four inches with pale white skin, shoulder length black hair and probably about 125 to 135lbs. She speaks spanish and has a soft accent that sort of carresses the words she speaks. After talking with her, I am even certain that she belongs in the class, unlike a number of other females I have had the opportunity to work with. (Don't take this wrong, there are also a large number of guys who don't belong in the class, too) She even offered to help me find a job. Which I accepted, of course.

Now, during class, instead of focusing on my professor who is spitting out various parts of the greek alphabet at us, I am picturing a female with black hair and wanting to spend more time with her. And here I thought that life could not get any more difficult or complicated than it already has gotten. Once again, I am proven wrong. Go Cupid. It's nice to know that Life doesn't get easier once you're born.

Can I have an interview?

I've spent much of the weekend writing up resumes. I had forgotten how much of a pain it is to tailor resumes to positions I am applying for at different companies. I have submitted a few applications, but nothing promising so far. It seems nobody I have gone to is really interested in offering interviews on the weekends because they are either too busy or the manager I need to speak to is not in.

Probably the most aggravating thing about filling in applications would be finding professional references that I have known for one year. My previous company had a strict policy of referring all calls about past employees to H.R., so the people I remain friendly with from that company aren't eligble. Finding older references are much harder, since some have moved on to other companies, or I have lost contact with them.

I also happened on another blog site that actually attempts to help people find jobs. It's geared more towards finding a full time job, so it doesn't help me as much. It does offer some useful stories and universal tips on getting the job though. Here's the link: http://landingthejob.blogspot.com/

Most likely, this coming week will offer few posts from me as I will be spending most of my waking hours that aren't in class looking and interviewing. Wish me luck!

NYSDOL - UP YOURS!

If anyone who reads this lives in the state of New York and manages to get unemployment insurance, know this: The New York State Department of Labor (NYSDOL) has no aptitude (or desire, for that matter) to communicate with its constituents (aka the taxpayer) who rely on the benefits they dole out. So, some advice by someone recently screwed by them: Keep on top of them like a hawk and always make them feel like you are breathing down their collective necks. Allow me to divulge how my unfortunate tale unfolds.

A little over three weeks ago, I reapplied for my unemployment benefits (sadly, my only form of income) for another year. The documents I initially received led me to believe that I still remained eligible for unemployment benefits. The woman I spoke to over the phone when I applied told me to just keep filing like I normally do. Since this is the first and only time I have ever been in this situation, I figured that all was well and I went on with my studies. How well I know (now) that this was indeed a great fallacy.

I should have learned my lesson the first time around when they sat on my application waiting for me to respond, yet not sending a letter telling me that I had to respond to their demands for nearly two months. That's right, they didn't send me a letter to tell me whether I was accepted or denied for my second trip on unemployment. Both the first time and this second time, I had to contact them myself to find out why there wasn't any news for me.

After three consecutive weeks of faithfully filing my claim and not receiving any checks, I decided to go to the local office and find out what was going on. That's when I learned the news. Since I made no attempt to find a job, I wasn't eligible for this year. I am not a labor attorney, but I think this is a serious lapse in their communication and this failure has ensured that I am in more financial peril than just after I was laid off. (At least then, I had a few thousand dollars saved up.) I would go on to say that this egregious indifference to my plight has set me up in a situation that I will never be able to recover from financially.

Ok, they also have this re-education program that I signed up for and was accepted into. They know this. The application process consists of flame encircled rings and spike filled pits that I have to navigate through just to remain eligible every month. I exagerate, but it is intensive and time consuming. I have to prove that I am taking qualified classes every semester, including the summer. And I did that. I went back to college (stupidly placing my tuition on my credit cards instead of getting loans. Pride is my greatest sin and likely my downfall, I suppose.) to earn a degree in engineering and I was approved to do so. I don't know about you, that seems to me like I am making a concerted effort to get the education I need to get a job.

Why they didn't send me a letter telling me that I am ineligible, I will never know. Instead of letting me know, they kept me paralized with the expectation that I would continue to get payments. Instead of finding a part time job, I let the bills sit. And sit. And sit some more. Now, since I have raided all of my savings in the past year to pay bills, I am now up the proverbial smelly brown creek with no paddle. Rent is due. Credit card payments are already late. Tuition is due. I can't afford textbooks. I have no money for food and I have nothing but some wilted celery left in the fridge.

I'm not depressed, I am angry. If I had any inkling that I was not getting any more funds, I would have gone and gotten a part time job. I'm not unemployable, I was trying to make myself more productive by getting this engineering degree and wholly focusing on it. So, thank you, NYSDOL, instead of enabling me, you have ensured that I will be hungry and homeless as well as unemployed.

There's nothing wrong with it!

See? Staring isn't socially incorrect! It's all the rage in New York City now.

There's nothing wrong with me! Nothing! I can stare as many times as I want. I suppose if I did a little dance right now, you would think there was something wrong with me. *dance* *dance* *dance*

Ok, I got that all out of my system for now. At least I now have an valid excuse for staring at someone. I wonder if that will be enough. Time to go find out. I just need to make sure that I am staring at the eyes and not elsewhere that rhymes with eyes. *grin*

(Now, did this post seem to come out of left field or what?)