A busy and profitable weekend

It has been a very busy weekend for me. I still have another gig tonight before this weekend is officially over for me. Then it's time for summer classes to begin. I suspect that I will make more this weekend than I did during the first month of employ and that thought eases some of the stress and tension out of my system.

I won't go over how sore and achy I am right now. We all know by now that I chose a physically challenging line of work to help pay the bills. Instead, I will tell you more about the gigs I did.

Saturday, I went to the Hamptons and did a gig at this posh manor home, belonging to a client whose name I can't divulge. It was a huge party. The party was held partly in a huge outdoor patio, then moved inside for some food in a multilevel room and finally, everyone danced the night away in a nearby room where we had set up enough lights, sound and audio equipment to rival a dedicated club set up. All of it arrived in three different trucks, so you can imagine how much stuff there was.

We brought in fog machines, plasma screens, all kinds of lighting and more than a half dozen seperate speaker cabinets. When the music was going, you could stand on the patio and hear the music clearly. Inside, your chest thudded with each beat of the music as the subwoofers kicked in. My company brought in eight dancers to dance along with the crowd. There were close to three hundred guests in this party so the dance floor was packed.

It took us just under three hours to set everything up and when the night ended at a relatively early (for a party) 1 am, it took us two more hours to pack everything. I won't deny that the guys driving the truck made it back to the warehouse in record time. I finally arrived home with the rising of the sun after we finished unloading all the trucks.

I slept for a few hours, and awoke at 12 pm to get to another gig. This time, the catering hall was on the border of the two counties (Nassau and Suffolk), for a wedding. To my dismay, it was another catering hall that had no freight elevator. This party wasn't as active or as dance friendly, so I spent much of the night catching up on my sleep in the truck. It's a good thing for me that all I had to do for this gig was setup and break down. Still, I arrived home at three in the morning.

On Memorial day, I brought some equipment to a town that had rented a sound system for their Memorial day parade. They had their own guys set it up, so I was very happy with that. I was done and home by six. I thought I would get some sleep, but my circadian rythm is all messed up and I couldn't get to sleep until 3 am.

Fortunately, tonight will be more like yesterday than Saturday. I will be going in to Queens and delivering some sound equipment for a dinner party. *grin* Hopefully, they'll feed me too. Not that I'm counting on it or anything. ;)

As for the good news I have to share, I am finally certain and able to tell everyone. I pick up my new used car this afternoon before heading to work. A nice, ten year old Lexus ES with leather seats, sunroof, and heated seats. I test drove it last week, and it drove like a brand new car. The best part is that I now save thirty dollars on each tank of gas I fill.

I think on Wednesday, I am going to the beach in my gleaming, luxury vehicle. I can't wait. (Can you see my ear to ear grin?)

A day in balance?

So, on Thursday, I tried to do things in moderation. Well, at least I tried. I'll let you be the judge.

I was awaken from my slumber at the crack of dawn. Oh, all right. I was awaken by my cel phone going off at 11 am after sleeping soundly for twelve straight hours. (For some reason, this always happens after the semester ends.) A good start for the day as far as I see it.

On the phone, my friend called asking for a favor. As I groggily asked him what that favor was, he told me that he had a flat and didn't have a jack. I agreed to help him and started packing my jack, tool box and breaker/cheater bar into my vehicle. I drove twenty minutes to where his car was after the tire blew out and handed him the jack. We changed the tire and installed the doughnut (which was also flat) after inflating it.

He offered to purchase lunch (breakfast) as a thank you, and I went with him to get his tire replaced. When we got to the place he bought the tires (which happens to be a large, membership only place whose name happens to begin with a C and rhymes with pro), they told us that the tire would be changed in an hour. We walked around the place, sampling the many items they offered and squandered an hour away.

When we got back to the tire place, the guy rudely told us that the tire would not be covered under warranty because it had been driven on for a significant amount of time while flat. When I pointed out that my friend had his car within a few hundred feet of where the car had blown out, this guy walked back to the shop and talked to the mechanic for a few minutes. Then he walked back declaring that even if he did cover it under warranty, the prorated amount would have been five dollars.

At this point, even though it was not my car, I was getting upset with his attitude. He had already berated my friend unnecessarily in a manner that showed a certain animosity that, up to now, I had never experienced. I know that recently, there has been a great amount of anti-hispanic stories in the news, but being asian, had been largely untouched by it. I couldn't believe it. This is New York, the cultural melting pot, or so we claim. How can this be?

I counselled my friend, who was inches short of attempting to do serious harm to this idiot, that we should just go somewhere else for a tire. He agreed to go and we told the guy to get the car off the lift. I should mention that my friend is a trainer in muay thai, so he would have caused a lot of damage to this guy. I couldn't stand by and let it happen, no matter how much the guy had earned that beating.

We went to another place that I had a lot of good will towards and the guy treated us with respect. He told us that all four of the tires were pretty much worn out and needed replacement soon. My friend opted to replace all of his tires at once. This store made nearly five hundred dollars merely by how differently they treated my friend and I.

If the idiot at that large warehouse type place with membership only had simply presented the facts in a different way, that money would have gone to them. We both commented on how little business they were doing lately, and we both drew the same conclusion as to why business seemed so weak there. Perchance, the idiot had something to do with the decline in clientele?

After that, my friend drove to work, and I, being employed on the weekends only, drove to the beach. Yeah, it's a hard life, but someone has to live it, right? ;) I stayed there for a couple hours with the intention of letting my skin get a bit of sunshine. I was wrong. I came out after two hours looking like an asian lobster. I had forgotten to bring sunscreen, and well, you can imagine what I look like.

Then, I met up with some friends and we went out to play paintball for a few hours. I had plenty of fun shooting people out and having them come to me afterwards telling me how I got them out. It's great how you can just legally shoot someone and have them come back for more. Also a great way to get any stress out of your system if you so desire. After we ran out of paint, we went out for a bite to eat.

After dinner, we all went to see the midnight showing of X-Men. Another thrilling and exciting chapter in this enourmous saga. I won't spoil it for you, but if you're the emotional type, you'll leave bawling your eyes out. Just remember Galadriel from the Lord of the Rings when you watch it.

So, what do you think, did I keep things in balance? This short week is supposed to make up for three months of stress that I put myself through over the semester. For once, this mini-vacation was a much needed antidote to how the past few months had gone. Last night, I went back to work, going to a location in the city and setting up a PA system for a conference. As of today (I'm going to a gig in the Hamptons), I'll be working the entire weekend all the way until Tuesday. If I am still able to lift my arms up at that point, I will let you in on that good bit of news I have been holding out on.

Am I trying to be too strong for you?

Is there such a thing as being too compassionate? I had recently read Marissa's take on passion, and it started me on thinking. It's one thing to feel strongly about something, but what about feeling strongly about something someone else is feeling? I have often wondered if I attenuate my own feelings and adjust them to be compatible with someone else's emotions.

There is this trait that I've exhibited as a youth, which some of my friends have taken note of and pointed out to me. I have a white knight in shining armor complex. In other words, I have a penchance towards rescuing damsels in distress, so to speak. For some reason, I am greatly distressed when I see a woman who has been victimized in some way, and feel a great urge to do something that will bring their spirits up. (Come to think of it, this might also explain why I react like I do.)

Growing up, I have been stung badly by women with strong feminist leanings when I offered or even tried to help. It was already confusing enough to grow up with strong physical desires for the opposite sex. When you are offering to help some woman in need only to get rebuffed as if this help was the most repulsive thing on earth, it becomes much harder for soemone to let down their guard in the future. For me, it was very hard to lower my guard enough to stay in a relationship for very long. (In an ironic counterpoint to my strong personality, I am also attracted to woman who are also have a decisive, strong personality.)

I suppose it is something I'll need to work out if I want to stay in a lasting relationship. My reluctance stems from some rather unhappy past experiences and the fear of yet another rejection. Yet, as I've repeated before, as I look for a job, or in this case, a relationship, I only need to be successful once to hit a homerun. Which is why I keep trying, I guess.

This recent introspection was sparked by reading this article, by Carey Roberts, a noted expert on political correctness, gender bias and radical feminism. I happened upon this while searching for somebody else on the 'net who might have discussed this topic. It was one of a very few that even mention this desire to rescue women in distress. Apparently, it continues to fly under the radar.

I am wondering if, in my compassion, I am trying too hard to be the strong anchor upon which someone in distress can cling to. Is my desire to make things right leading me to situations where I must constantly stand tall in the face of opposition? Am I, by wanting to help, even in cases when the help isn't wanted, opening myself up to the poor relationships I have been in? Am I doing these people I am helping a disservice by helping them in their times of trouble? Do I find that being able to pick up the pieces makes me a better person?

Or does it mean that I am the person who always gets shat upon, taken for granted because I am always reliable and able to make things better? Maybe, I will listen to all those women who have told me that they don't need my help. Perhaps, instead of trying to make things better, I will watch and see if the victims can pick themselves off the ground, brush the dirt off and get right back into the fray.

Wouldn't it be ironic if they were able to pick themselves up and get back into the world that knocked them down in the first place? How would I feel if all my efforts were wasted? That I wasn't really needed in the first place?

I suppose that is the true crux of my "complex" when I really get down to it. It's about me, all about selfish me. I need to feel desired, wanted and appreciated. I want the superflous and profuse Thank yous even as I humbly try to pass off their gratitude as if it weren't really much of an effort to be worthy of their praise. I want to be the center of attention, without really having to pay the consequences.

And yet, I do pay for those consequences every time I give something, whether it be time, money, or emotion, to help others who could have just as easily helped themselves. Because of their needs, I give freely a portion of myself without even thinking of repayment. When I get down to the most basic part of it all, I pay with coinage taken out of myself.

When I finally get overwhelmed by the needs of others, I try to pull back into my shell, realizing that I have overtaxed that reserve bank of coins. Spent too much of myself, and now I can't handle the tide of needs being asked of me. In giving parts of myself to others, I have impoverished myself until I, too, am needy even as I continue looking for that gratitude. That, undeniably, is the greatest irony.

There has been this mantra that doctors have recently been espousing: Everything in moderation. I suspect that inner peace may lay in finding the balance between giving too much and being in need. Overcome that need to generate gratitude from others. Perhaps be a bit less giving. Now all I have to do is find that balance as I do this.

How was your day?

I had started off the weekend expecting to do only two gigs, but finished the weekend doing three in two days. I did another mitzvah yesterday, followed by an emergency roadie gig at communion party. This was after the late night working a prom gig. This meant that I worked a 17 hour day yesterday. Not entirely unusual for the entertainment industry to be truthful.

I am beginning to become accustomed to the continual muscular aches in my arms, shoulders and upper back. I can't recall the workouts in my past being this brutal, but then again, I would space them out over the course of a week. Perhaps some day soon, I may have the upper body to match my legs.

The mitzvah was this grand affair inside a beige stucco mansion of a building. Both floors had an outdoor patio with square footage that was larger than the square footage of my parent's house. (In case you were wondering, the patio measured about 65x40.) The room that the mitzvah was booked in must have been twice as large. We were on the second floor, having loaded up from the basement.

As beautiful as both catering halls were, I also saw the seedier side of this hall as I pushed or dragged the equipment through their basement and kitchens. Low ceilings, dirty floors, and maze-like openings around walk in refridgerators. We pushed the equipment into the service elevator which had plywood for a floor and went up to the second floor. There we weaved through the kitchen and into the main room.

The guest of honor, who was celebrating her coming of age, reminded me strongly of Tori Spelling, only this girl had blue eyes. I'm not sure if this resemblance is a vote for or against her. She was dressed in a pale pink dress with multi-hued as well as multi-layered silk mesh skirt that surrounded her like a bell and went down to the ground. I suppose it would be easier to imagine her dressed in a princess/ballerina outfit, which is really what it reminded me of.

This time, I was working the photo booth again, and I must have taken her picture with every one of her seventy five non-adult friends. That's right, she had seventy five guests all under the age of 15. During the photo sessions, I even had to fend off the photographers hired to photgraph the entire event so that I could do my job. I have to say that she was very photogenic, and unbelievably patient considering how many flashbulbs must have gone off in her face. She had the poise I would expect from a woman twice her age, who would be preparing to attend her wedding reception and expecting this barage of photographs.

As the party wound down, we learned that the elevator had broken down. As my luck would have it, I would have two gigs in a row where I had to lug the equipment down flights of stairs. Normally, I expect some carrying and lifting on flights of stairs, because at most catering halls, the service ways aren't handicap accessible. I don't complain about this often, but two straight gigs of carrying equipment down two flights of narrow stairs just made me miserable.

On our way back to the warehouse, I received a frantic call from the production manager asking me if I could drive to another catering hall to cover that gig after the roadie for that party went home sick. I agreed to go, not really knowing what to expect. When I got to the second catering hall, I entered this warren of a catering hall that had been built in the 1800's with, as you guessed it, no elevators.

My inner self broke out in tears, I tell you. I stoically climbed the flights of stairs and made my way into the party room. There, I received relieved hugs from both the MC and the DJ. I saw why both of these guys were so happy to see me. We set up and the communion party started on time. After this party ended, the DJ split early (being the owner's nephew has its priveledges, I guess.) and the MC and I had to carry all of the equipment back down.

By the time the last item made it down the flight of stairs, my arms were trembling from all that effort. We must have taken breaks after every few steps because I was so winded. When we at last had the truck unloaded at the warehouse, it must have been three thirty in the morning. My day had started at ten on Saturday morning, when I arrived to help load up the truck at the warehouse. Perhaps more people will better understand why being a roadie can be both interesting and tiring at the same time.

On another topic, I will leave with one more thing to say. I may have some good news to share. Until I am entirely certain, I must leave you all in suspense.

Dancing or having sex on the dance floor?

I'm finally done with finals (wild exultant cheer). I will now have to find a second job to fill the time (and pay the bills). I have also just returned from doing a gig in New Jersey, around the Newark area. This time, the gig was a prom. It was held by a private school for troubled teens. I didn't find this out until after the prom had ended and I had a short chat with one of the chaperones.

This time, I "learned" how to hang lights. I put the word learned in quotes, because I already knew how, and was only waiting for them to think I was ready to learn it. I was also given a camera with the assignment to rove through the party taking action shots. I am guessing that I will be in a large portion of their prom photos, since I somehow managed to be in the background as they took their pictures.

Tonight, the music we played ranged the gamut of hip hop, reggaeton, R&B, dance, salsa, and even a little bit of calypso music. These kids basically danced the night away. Boy did they dance. I should replace the word dance with "having sex on the dance floor with clothes on" instead. I say this because many of their dance moves involved simulating sex on the dance floor.

Throughout the night, I had to take my shots carefully, making sure that I didn't show how connected they were. Lots of above the waist shots. Even then, in the background of many of the shots that I took, you can see couples grinding away to the music. For a while I had to stop taking pictures because they were getting too raunchy.

By raunchy, I mean that one girl had her hands on the floor, and the guy slamming away at her behind during one song. At other times, some girls would jump around the dance floor while having their hands gripping the guys pants so that they couldn't do anything but follow the girls. When Lil' Jon and the Eastside Boyz came on with Get Low, these girls would do just that. And when their gowns restricted them from doing that, they hiked up the skirts.

I was in awe at how raw and primal their dancing was. I can't remember seeing this at any other proms I had attended. Some of the things they were doing couldn't be mistaken for anything except as participating in coitus. Interestingly enough, many of the girls moved from guy to guy while doing this for the duration of the night.

The most amusing part of the night would have to be that the teachers were dancing along beside the kids and I couldn't tell which ones were teachers until they sat down for dinner. Granted, the teachers were far more restrained in their dancing style. In comparison, they looked like statues beside the kids. And no hip grinding for them.

Finally, they crowned the king and queen of the prom. I was actually pleased that I caught the perfect reaction shot from the queen that even their professional photographer was too slow to catch. Then, after the king and queen danced, we went right back into the more interpretative style of dancing.

What a wild night. I need to turn in, as I have another gig tomorrow, and it's in upstate New York. I hope to bring back some more interesting tales upon my return.

No procrastination here

I have this habit of showing up early to my appointments. It gives me some time to compose myself and relax a bit before something stressful like a job interview. I can remove myself from the irritation that I felt from transporting myself there and switch my focus on to some different task. (Like distancing myself from that episode of dodging that woman who was driving seventy miles per hour while attempting to put on eyeliner as she wove in an out of traffic. For the love of all that's good, just pull over, put the stuff on and then go back to driving!)

I also like to practice this habit for class. However, there's a less noble reason for developing this habit. It gives me time to find out if there was "home" work assigned the previous class we met and give myself a chance to complete it before class starts. There have been times where finishing it just before class has prepared me for the surprise quiz my sadistic professors like to spring on us to see if we actually did the homework. (They're not really sadistic, but trying to help us learn the material. Not that this helps those who haven't made any effort at all.)

As usual, I showed up to class earlier today, about an hour early thinking I would get some lab work done, maybe even study for a final. About twenty minutes later, engineering girl walks in. So much for doing lab work and studying. We started chatting for a bit and I finally decided to broach the subject of her "friend in the wheel chair."

I hadn't seen him in the past few weeks, and well, things between the two of us have been moving at a very fast pace. Perhaps too fast without know what was going on. So, I decided that I would work up the gumption to ask what the deal was between these two.

I mentioned casually that I hadn't seen her friend in a while. She told me that he's a graphic artist, and has been busy on a project that needed to be completed before finals. She also told me that his work was on display at a local art gallery, and she had been invited to attend. I asked her if she was going to it, and she sort of shrugged as if to say, "Who knows?" Then she asked me about some problem that she couldn't solve and we began to work on that.

Ok, as everyone can see, I chickened out. I know, I had the opportunity, not to mention the privacy, to ask the question and I couldn't bring myself to ask her. An opportunity that I let slip through my fingers. What can I say other than that I am not sure I want to know the answer.

Kind of like having a cat in a box and being told that the cat might be alive or it might be dead. The only way to find out is to open the box. The thing is, you're not sure if you want to open the box to find a dead cat.

Besides that, there's MK, the other girl who has seemingly expressed interest in me. I know she's single, and she also has been willing to spend a significant amount of her personal time with me. I know that I don't have the type of personal magnetism that draws women to me. Besides that, she is also mathematically inclined, so talking with her also happens to be an unexpected pleasure for me. Add into that mix, she's got this really upbeat personality that keeps me smiling.

I keep telling myself that I will deal with this situation after finals are over. The only fallacy to putting off this decision is that I start summer classes a week after finals are over, and I will see engineering girl in those classes. And, since elementry and high school's almost out around that time, I will be seeing MK more often too. I know I need to choose between the two women. Yet, I keep thinking that there's some time before I must make that decision. I'm sure any number of people really feel sorry for me as I suffer through my dilemna. Ok, maybe not.

Used cars everywhere and not one to own

I spent the last four hours looking at used car after used car in the hopes that I might find one that was just right. I didn't want some old stodgy model that guzzles gas, but I didn't want a tiny death trap either. Add to that my limited budget, and the range of available selections was narrowed down to cars seven to twelve years old.

I had thought I found a gem of a car in a 2000 Ford Taurus wagon. That is until I actually sat inside the car and saw what looked to be dried blood stains. Then I looked in the engine compartment and peeked in. There, I saw that the reservior for the engine coolant was a lovely rust color. Additionally, everything around it was rusted too, leading me to think that at some point, this engine had overheated.

That would have been bad enough. When I tried to open the rear window on the tail gate, I couldn't even get it closed again. As I looked closely at the rear of the vehicle, I saw clear indications that this wagon had been rear-ended and the bumper had been replaced. I looked at the cargo area, and I saw more blood stains. I told the guy selling the car that I could tell that it had been in an accident, and he told me to prove it. I pointed out what I had seen and he blew me off. Oh well, I guess the car wasn't a gem after all.

The next car I looked at, which was a Nissan Altima, smelled like something died inside of the car. I couldn't sit in the car for more than a few minutes. Later, when I mentioned it to the guy selling the car, he sheepishly admitted that the past owner had issues with incontinence. I drove to the nearest store and bought a can of Lysol to disinfect my clothes. That just about made my evening.

The next guy, who was selling a Saturn SL2, stood me up for nearly twenty five minutes. As I was about to leave the parking lot we had agreed to meet in, he pulled in. When I finally looked at the car, I could see crease marks in the engine compartment. This told me that the car had been in a front end collision. I passed on this car too.

I went to another "dealer" who was also selling a Saturn SL2, and when I got there, he told me that he had sold the car over the weekend. He showed me the rest of the cars on his lot, all of which were out of my price range. He told me that he was going to purchase some more cars at an action soon, and promised to give me a call. I don't know about this one. I intend to keep an open mind about it, but I suspect it was a bait and switch.

I stopped for a late dinner at a fast food restaurant, waiting for the next appointment. This was for a Toyota Camry. This one was in the same age range, but a bit out of my price range. I was hoping I could counter-offer it to a lower amount that I could afford. This was the first car I saw that looked like it was worth owning. Of course, the woman wouldn't budge on her price. Another strike out.

I went to another place and saw this black Infiniti I30 with tan leather seats. With a spoiler and sunroof. I fell for it immediately. When I asked the guy what he was asking for it, my hopes were immediately dashed, since he wanted nine thousand. Yep, he just about blew that idea right out of my head.

The last car I saw, was for another Ford, this time, it was a Focus. The first sign of trouble reared its ugly head when I saw that the owner was a teenager in his first year of college. I was wondering why he would be selling this car when it was still very much in good condition. I took it out for a test drive. That was when I found out that he had somehow wrecked the transmission. The car would rev for a second or two before it started moving. I am not sure if he knew what that meant, but I knew I didn't want a car that would cost two thousand more to repair the abuse it had taken.

I saw several cars today and not one of them was worth the time or the money. I need to stop paying $75.00 for a tank of gas in the beast (aka the van), but there wasn't a car to be had that met my requirements. Too bad I don't have a few thousand more to purchase something that was certified by a dealer.

Exhaustion with a smile

I can say that I have not looked so forward to the sight of my bed as I did yesterday evening (Or was that earlier this morning?). Working a double set of gigs in one day (coincidently surrounded by some very attractive females during one gig) had just about wiped me out. I did a mitzvah and a birthday party one right after the other at two different locations. I didn't get home until four a.m. after starting off at the warehouse around eight a.m.

I staggered into my room and barely managed to collapse on my bed before sleep overtook me. Right now, my arms still feel like lead weights, and my legs are all sore. In the past, I had jokingly referred to my job as an opportunity to get my weight lifting workout. Yesterday, the joke was on me. I feel like I did four one hour full body workouts.

I had helped load and unload two box trucks full of lighting and audio gear and some of those travel cases weigh nearly one hundred and fifty pounds. These particular box trucks don't have hydraulic lifts, so we have to manually lift these cases up on to the three and a half foot high truck bed. Usually, with three or four guys, everything gets unloaded in thirty minutes per truck.

Loading in at one location, we had to carry this equipment up two flights of stairs because the building was too old to have a freight elevator. We're not allowed to use the guest elevator for load in because of the fear that we may damage the fascias in the elevator. For an hour before set up and an hour after break down at each gig, we had to carry arcade game booths, playstation booths, an air hockey table and all the dj and lighting equipment. Both types of booths required four of us to awkwardly carry each booth up the stairs.

But, enough of my complaints of soreness and aches. This weekend, I had the fortune of working with experienced crews and this meant that there weren't any mishaps during the events. As for the comment of attractive females, I had the opportunity to work the photo booth with two ladies. Both of whom helped me take photos that are inserted into those cards people bring home from parties. These two women were dancers for my company who also did other jobs such as running the photo booth. (I might mention at this point that if it weren't for the poor pay, I would most certainly enjoy doing this, even with all the work.)

Prior to meeting them, I had always understood in an abstract way that professional dancers always attracted a guy's attention. It wasn't until I spent four hours working beside them that I learned why in a less abstracted manner. Another lesson that ended while leaving me with a smile. Allow me to elaborate. I had already mentioned in a previous post that in the entertainment business, there is a certain amount of "tolerated" intimacy that goes on.

Vanity is a well known human trait that causes us to display what we are most proud of. Dancers are very proud of their bodies, it seems. And they should be after spending years working out and perfecting the skillful control of their bodies, which permits them to contort themselves in ways that most humans can't even conceive of doing. (For some reason, the lyrics from Shaggy's Carolina came to mind: she rock her body and move just like a squirrel.)

My fellow compatriots working the photo booth were both very proud of their bodies, and in their vanity, wore clothing that showed off what they were proud of. The tight fitting clothing that didn't hide much displayed the well toned and powerful muscles of their bodies. During slow times at the booth, they danced along with the songs being played by the DJ. Since I certainly could not dance anywhere as well as they could, I merely watched them as they danced. I wasn't interested in proving how less skilled I was. I would say that watching them as they were dancing was bad enough temptation, however, with the tight fitting clothing, it was difficult to ignore their physical charms.

Circumstances had it that we were all stuck behind this one large table barely three feet away from the wall. We were surrounded by all the usual baubles that we can insert just taken pictures into which the guests can take home with them as mementos of this "special" occasion that they had come together to celebrate. We would spend fifteen minutes taking photos and then go the next fifteen assembling some thirty to forty photos behind this cramped space. Because of the setup, we would have to reach behind each other to get the items we were inserting pictures in. Accidental contact was unavoidable.

I can't even honestly say that I minded this "accidental" contact at all. Though, at one point, one of the women barely missed putting an end to my reproductive capabilities with her elbow. I have a bruise on my inner thigh for my troubles. She claims it was accidental. I think she wanted to get back at me for nearly knocking her over when she stopped short in front of me earlier in the day. I weigh nearly twice as much as she does (I would guess she weighs about one hundred and ten pounds), there wasn't any chance of stopping in time. I was also goosed once because I didn't move out of the way as one of them tried to squeeze by. Some of the guests found the sight of me suddenly lurching forward very funny. I, however, did not get the chance to return the favor. (I'd probably have gotten slapped for it anyway. Oh well.)

As for other details about these gigs, I couldn't help likening the strong similiarity of the guest of honor at one gig to Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead. I also learned that large numbers of teenage girls in a small room equates to an earache after being overwhelmed by their piercing screams. Teenage boys have no problem posing for blackmail type photos. Finally, I learned that working the photo booth with slow printers is very frustrating, even if you have all three going at the same time.

Yet, somehow, through all of this, I still have a smile on my lips.

Self improvement

I walked out of my classroom on my way home last night and I spotted a couple sitting in an alcove in the lobby sitting there having a conversation. The girl was dressed in a red ferrari hat, with a yellow collared blouse and light blue jeans. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail through the back of the cap. The guy was sitting perpendicular to her and dressed in a gray zippered fleece sweater (I didn't think it was cool enough to warrant a fleece, but that is what he was wearing) with a pair of blue jeans. His head was uncovered, and his hair was gelled or oiled into ringlets. They were sitting there, chatting away about something, laughing at some comment the other had made, and the only reason I noticed them at all was because the couple paused in their conversation and to glance at me as I walked up.

As I walked on by, I thought to myself (after mentally noting that she was on the pretty side), I don't do that anymore. I'm so wound up with worrying about the things going on in my life. I'm trying to keep up with the, seemingly, endless amount of work my professors like to pile on top of me, working as a roadie, looking for a used car that won't be a money pit, and trying valiantly, but probably unsuccessfully, to keep in touch with friends, close and otherwise, that I have made in my lifetime. I feel so anxious that I can't sit still for a few minutes without thinking of something else that needs attending to.

What don't I do anymore? I don't relax. I don't sit around and just talk about anything that crosses my mind. I'm not sitting in some alcove talking into the night about ideas, how I am feeling, or doing relaxing things with someone to pass the time.

That was another me, in another lifetime. The demands of life have intruded. There was a time when the only money I needed was for eating out or going out and interacting with others. In fact, I haven't really relaxed since I got out of college the first time around. It's no wonder that a skill like small talk, which requires constant practice, has atrophied. Now, I notice when I talk to someone, that I don't really have much to say. I spend most of my time listening to other people talk.

I've stated in the past that I don't know what to talk about because I have been engrossed in myself. I don't spend my time brushing up on current froms of entertainment. Probably with good reason, some of the stuff that's been coming out isn't worth watching. If something doesn't interest me, I have a hard time keeping my attention on talking about it.

Even as my relationship prospects are improving, I don't know what to talk about. For example, earlier today, I spent much of the day studying. However, I also had an appointment with engineering girl to help her study for a class I had breezed through last year. When she showed up, we spoke about the class, compared tests, went over examples and mainly talked about engineering things. Amazing how little we spoke about things outside of class. How little I had to say about anything at all. I felt that I was repeating myself like a broken record.

One of the best things about knowing someone who knows the same thing as you do is the ability to share some cool new gadget you just got. So, when I showed her this new gadget I bought, she was suitably impressed with it. But what happens when I meet someone who tells me that she's interested in collecting antiques? It's certainly not something I am interested in.

How do I keep a conversation going with someone who doesn't care what network bridges and managed switches do? For someone whose eyes glaze when I talk about what a band pass filter is, I don't doubt they feel the same way I feel when someone regales me with the latest development on the some new financial scandal. I have already seen up close what human greed causes people to do.

Have I focused myself so narrowly that all I can think and speak about are engineering subjects? Can I ever relax and just talk about how my life has been going? Will I ever be able to overcome my introverted reserve to talk about anything that doesn't interest me?

The catch in wanting to de-focus and relax is, of course, losing focus on getting through my engineering program. If I let myself dwell on my feelings, will I feel that I don't really want to finish this lab or finish reading those six chapters? If I spend my time whiling away the night, will I be rested enough to take those exams? If I stop sacrificing, will I suddenly come upon a large sum of money?

I'm not in panic mode, yet these questions came to mind as I thought on it more as I drove home. I have always had that unceasing goal of improving myself in some area. The question becomes what do I do now to improve myself in this area without affecting everything else? Can I split myself in anymore ways? I don't know.

Are you drawn?

Have to keep this short because I'm supposed to be studying for a final, but I didn't want to keep another topic sitting within my head that I promptly forget to post about at some later time.

The house warming party was pretty relaxed because the hosts had this way of keeping everything that way and when it wasn't, managed to smooth things over quickly. I spent lots of time talking about random things with people I had just met. (I am very pleased that I was getting a chance to practice this oft neglected skill of small talk.) Lots of interesting new people that kept topics ranging the entire gamut of music, politics, sports, psychology, hobbies, and relationships.

I went to work the next morning after the party, (total hours of sleep over that weekend: 8 hrs) and met another woman who is aspiring to be a teacher. After the initial introduction, we spent some more time talking and I learned that she also was a very opinionated person who said exactly what she thought. She was also physically attractive, and I wouldn't doubt it if she had done some modelling in the past.

We were doing a sweet sixteen this time with lots of excited girls demanding this and demanding that from us as we worked. The irony about this woman wanting to be a teacher would center around the snide remarks she'd say just loud enough for us to hear as the girls attending the party would walk away. When the girls came back, this woman was all sweetness and honey. This went on for the duration of the party.

I couldn't help but laugh at this irony. I suspect that she thought I was laughing at her "witty" remarks about these girls. When I considered that a woman like my co-worker might be teaching my daughter or son, I wasn't sure if I would be upset or amused. I suppose time will tell.

It also caused me to wonder if people who are considered physically attractive have more leeway in saying egregious things simply because people around them are predisposed to like them because of their attractiveness. Do we, as a social group, ignore some nasty things that more "beautiful" people say or do so that we may be near their comeliness or magnetic personality?

I also wonder if we're hard-wired to be drawn to these "beauties" because of our mating rituals. I suppose I should point out that I don't think that every good looking person can be mean. Yet, would we care about the juicy secrets of Hollywood's seedier side if we weren't drawn just a little bit?

Making life more interesting

I should be asleep right now. Especially after waking up to see the sun rise yesterday to attend an engineering conference and then meeting up with my friend for an extended roleplaying session. I have to work tomorrow and then go off to a house warming party of another friend tonight. But, my allergies decided to act up and I feel like I am trying to breathe with a hundred cotton balls stuffed up each nostril. I am waiting for my usual conction of psuedo-ephedrine and antihistamine to kick in so I can actually get some sleep without asphyxiating. I would surely enjoy spring and the increasingly warmer temperatures more if it weren't for my allergies.

However, since I am awake, I might as well update everyone on what's gone on since Tuesday. Thirty minutes will seem much shorter if I am keeping busy. (Besides attempting to breathe, of course.) During my "recap" I had mentioned that my prospects for relationships had been improving. I hadn't realized how much of an improvement until today. Here's a taste of what I am seeing:

Engineering girl has been really friendly of late, and I am pretty much spending a large portion of my time with her. I know, I know. I should be waiting and seeing what goes on with her situation before doing anything. And I am waiting. She just seems to show up at just about everything I am doing lately. She attended the engineering conference, as she is also a potential engineer, and we spent most of it sitting side by side at every presentation. During a break between our classes, I offered to go pick up food for a group of my friends and she volunteered to come along to help me carry the food back. I have to say that I enjoyed having someone to go there with and talk to as I waited for all that food to be cooked.

I am trying carefully to walk that tightrope of being friendly and not being too friendly. I am teetering all over the place as I try to maintain this balance. I admit it, I have been very guilty of bestowing a growing number of smiles on her and I may reap what I am sowing. The question is whether this harvest will be tainted by a previous relationship.

Earlier tonight, I went to my friend's place and we engaged in another session of roleplaying as I had alluded to earlier. MK was there again and she was starting to get into her character. We were playing for a couple of hours before everyone became hungry. At this point, I was sent out with MK to do a Dunkin' Donuts and McDonald's run. (We're really trying to buck this trend of eating healthy, you see. Ok, it's really because at midnight, they were the only places nearby that were open.) Well, during the drive to Dunkin' Donuts and then to McD's, I learned more about MK.

I learned that she teaches high school math and has a degree in applied math and a minor in education. We had this meaningful conversation where we shared parts of our past with each other. She's a tomboy who likes lifting weights and has been really enjoying our sessions where she gets a chance to really have some geeky fun. I appreciate how she can sound like a cute little girl one minute and then at the next, speak with a level of sophistication that exhibits her raw intellect. Did I mention that she is asian and also rather pretty?

I actually look forward to talking to her and I am thinking that it's kind of scary, since I don't know her all that well. I don't think that I have begun to scratch beneath the surface with her, considering what I have already seen of her complex personality. I am also not sure whether or not I am looking merely at her physical beauty and ascribing to her a greater level of interest and favor than she has earned. What's more, I sense that she is quite capable of recognizing what I am feeling and is able to tailor herself in an automatic way that makes it easy for me to spend time with her.

I suddenly find myself with choices. I can only wonder what I am doing to myself by letting my mind wander from the focus of gaining that piece of paper that lays claim to the fact that I might have learned something, also known as a college degree. I have this feeling that I am not quite done with interesting months as of yet.

Short Recap

April was an interesting month for me, both bad and worse. *grin* Somehow, I managed to stick with my education, and things may actually be looking up now. I have a job, I'm looking for a new(er) car and prospects for a relationship are improving. Probably what impresses me the most is that my grades haven't slipped all that much through all this. I certainly hope that this tenacity contiues.

I'm off for that final stretch before finals when I realize that I've been slacking and have 30 unfinished labs to hand in and prep for finals. I apologize in advance, as I know that for the next two weeks, posts are going to be infrequent (So make me feel better by checking back often!). If you're still in school, good luck with finals, and if you're not, just remember that Memorial day weekend is just a few weeks away!