All I Have Is Yours, All You See Is Mine...

Let me begin tonight's entry by relating something that I learned today...

Giving too much of yourself is never a healthy thing, unless it is to yourself.

I was talking with an old friend and esteemed colleague of mine on this very topic earlier this week. My friend, like myself, is a caretaker personality type. We take care, it is just what we do. We both seem to attract the hard-luck cases and I found that our stories were somewhat similar, more in the way of the lessons learned instead of the actual play by play of bad relationships.

I find that my friend and I have more in common than we thought we did, though we hadn't actually seen one another in over four years. We kept in contact via e-mail mostly.

I heard about what my friend went through and while I wish that I could have felt a lot more sympathy than empathy, I just couldn't. I kept sitting there thinking, "Holy crap, my pal's been through pretty much the exact same shit I've been through."

The funny thing about all this is that while I've been through stuff that my brother once told me that he would never wish on his worst enemy, I still recognize the fact that there are others walking this planet who have been through shit ten times worse. I think it is more the fact that a good chunk of the various collection of unpleasant situations I've experienced has mostly been due to tragic errors in judgment rather than mere happenstance.

True, it is understandable that one cannot always see the warning signs of trouble unless one has actually been through a similar experience. What galls me is when I adopt the foolish belief that people can change. Well, they can, but with Herculean effort on their part. Most choose not to. Their flaws are part of the fabric of their being and it takes a veritable act of Congress to change their behaviour, if not more.

Myself, I've been making slow changes. I've been fooled more than twice, so I accept my shame. I find myself being a little more on the alert for danger, but yet I still linger in my mind on the what could be in people instead of just cutting my losses and moving on.

My friend was the same way for years. It took a move halfway across the country for my friend to find a separate peace. I just hope that a move of 45 miles will do the same for me. Remains to be seen, I suppose. I haven't been here long enough to appraise any perceptable change, let alone act on it.

What I do know is that I am now close to maxing out on my vacation and sick hours at work. Almost three weeks of unused time going to waste. I wish I could just leave tomorrow for parts unknown, but my sense of responsibility and my currently strained finances make that difficult, nay, impossible.

It really gives me the red ass. Sure, I could just take the time and putter about the house making comments to myself about how I hope everything will turn out alright, but that really doesn't help one bit.

I cannot stare at the ceiling tiles and reflect. I have to take a drive.

Rock, Rock, Roll, Plymouth Rock Roll Over...

The game came to an end. The home team kept the visitors at bay during the ninth, therefore winning by one run...

Then there was nothing. I had a good start to the story, but then ending seems to have fallen by the wayside, leaving nothing more than what we started with.

The fact of the matter is that I found myself too busy. I knew I should have stayed awake another couple of hours, dilligently tapping away. Life came in and the details of the story faded. Nothing gives me the red ass more than a story that is left to languish because of my stupid human need to sleep.

And It's One, Two, Three Strikes You're Out...

Last night I gathered up my nephew, niece and ladyfriend and headed out to the local AAA ballpark, the Dell Diamond. Now, the Diamond isn't your typical minor league park, not by a long chock.

First of all, it is located smack dab in the middle of Austin's "Silicon Hills," where computer manufacturing giants such as Dell, Motorola and Samsung churn out computers, microprocessors and the like. The "Dell" in the name of the park should be the first clue, right?

Secondly, the park is co-owned by Nolan Ryan, so there is a higher level of expectations required of a park that is co-owned by one of the modern day baseball legends. No skimping on the grandeur here.

So, it's not exactly the ballpark experience that I was accustomed to. I remember going to a few games with my dad when I was a kid. The ballpark usually brings back memories of the smell of hot dogs and the sounds of good natured urgings of acquiring new spectacles directed at any umpire who makes a call in favor of the visiting team.

Since I have recently discovered that my fellow Austinite brother and his family are in the process of packing for a move to Maine, it suddenly hit me in the face that my local niece and nephew were soon going to be on the opposite side of the country. My time with them had suddenly turned into a premium.

It feels odd writing that last sentence now. Perhaps it is because of the uncertainty of life that time spent with loved ones and friends is always at a premium and should be cherished, not taken for granted.

Still, when one slogs through the nortoriously evil I-35 traffic during rush hour, puts up with the sibling rivalry in the back seat, fights for decent parking and lays out $$$ on tickets to a baseball game, it isn't a far stretch for one to actually expect to watch the game, is it?

The thing I quickly discovered, although I should have realized, is that young children aren't really all that particularly interested in baseball. Well, my nephew is. My niece is at the age where discovering fun shapes in clouds provide hours of quality entertainment.

Any chance of watching the game pretty much went out the window the instant they discovered the playground behind the outfield wall. Yep, you heard me right.

Playground.

With tons of slides, swings, swimming pool, climbing wall, bouncy castle things, a speed pitch game and other activities to make a under 12 year old squee with great joy. So, with heavy heart at the prospect of pissing good money away for an activity that could have been free if we had chosen to visit one of the bountiful selection of Austin city parks and playgrounds, I sat and watched as they had a blast.

As the innings passed and the night progressed, I found myself slowly caring less about my lighter wallet. Going to the game was important to me because I had good memories of going with my dad, which I had hoped to share anew with my neph and niece before they moved to Outer Mongolia. What was important to them was that Uncle Rob took them somewhere fun and filled them up with junk food and sugar whilst they ran amok throughout the night.

How easy it was to lose sight of that. It wasn't so much what we were doing but the fact that we were here together goofing off that mattered to them.

Once the 7th inning stretch came and went, I cared less about the cheers, the smell of roasted peanuts and the occassional pop of fireworks that announced another scoring run on behalf of the home team. By the eigth, my nephew came up to me and asked if he and I could watch the game for a bit.

"Are you sure, dude?" I asked, "They still have the playground open for a few more minutes."

He scratched his right arm absently as he shook his head and replied in his petulant little way that he gets whenever he's teasing an adult, "Well, duh, we are at a baseball game, aren't we?"

"Sure, kid, let's grab some dirt," I reply as the ladyfriend takes my niece back to the playground.

We grab a seat on the grassy berm that surrounds the outfield fence. Not the most comfortable of seating, but good enough for two guys who don't mind getting themselves dirty by sitting on the lawn.

We watch as the local team strikes out the visitors and retires the side. The home team is up by one and as long as they don't choke during the top of the 9th, victory is assured.

I am aware of my neph slowly burrowing into my shoulder as we stared straight ahead at the opposing pitcher who was winding up for another fastball.

"You tired, dude?" I ask as a ball hit by the local team's catcher suddenly veers of into foul country. Guy just couldn't seem to catch a break that evening.

"Naw," my nephew replied, "just glad we came. Thanks for bringing us."

It was a rare moment because it wasn't very often that moments like these happen. It was unlikely that this kind of moment would happen again in the near future. While I love my other nephews as well, I sadly don't really get along with their father (one of my other brothers) so my time spent with them is even less frequent.

"Anytime, dude," was all I could say.

-To be continued...

Take My Love, Take My Land...

Life can be tough but think of how the penguins feel...

Watched March of the Penguins today while attempting to engage my brain in activities that didn't involve stress or worry. What I ended up with was time spent contemplating the idea that no matter how bad things in life may sometimes seem, there are always people or creatures who are having a tougher time than one's self.

Take into account the Emperor penguin. Here is a creature that breeds in an environment that is harsh, barren and unforgiving. The mere fact that ANYTHING is able to reproduce in sub-zero Antarctic temperatures is a miracle in the first place, let alone what these creatures have to endure to protect themselves and their offspring.

If you haven't seen the movie, I'd recommend seeing it, at least once. Even if you are not a fan of documentaries, there are still many things in this movie to reflect on.

As I watched the film, I was struck with the notion that the bullshit I wade through every day is nowhere near what these creatures have to deal with. The human animal's life may be complex but it seems that a vast majority of the stresses and pain in our lives are self-inflicted.

While it's true that there are many things beyond our control, there are tons of things that are. These choices center around different avenues in our lives such as who we choose as our mates, what we choose for our careers, what school we choose to attend, etc. It is each of these choices that help to chart a course for our life, whether the destination is what we wanted or not.

Some choices, while they may have been good in intent, lead us down paths that result in misery. Others that may have been painful and uncertain options to pursue may lead us to happiness and content.

It's a tricky thing, walking out one's door everyday. You never know what to expect. You just get up in the morning, wash your face and hope that everything will work out for the best. Mostly, it does.

I've been trying to deal with a ton of strong and painful emotions, unresolved issues and an oddly busy workload. And that just seems like peanuts compared to a penguin.

Like The Sun Through The Trees...

Stand up politely, sit down quietly
As you kneel before the altar.
On your knees is where you'll be
From here to the morning After.

Where is it said that in death do us part,
When one is alive yet dead in heart?

I Feel... Pt. 2

A little more at peace today.

Slowly, but surely, things are starting to fall into place. There may yet be a few unplanned bumps in the road ahead during the next month, but the wheels are at least fully in motion.

It'll take time but I'm feeling better than I did the day before and that is indeed something.

In the meantime, I have been quite amused by this ST:TNG-related blog. Hilarity abounds, I say!

I Feel...

I've been told recently that I'm a good guy. That I have my flaws like everyone else, but overall, a decent sort of fella.

If all of this is true, then why don't I feel like I am?

It's been going on two months now that I've begun this rebirthing process in earnest. I've recently felt creatively dead, spiritually dead and emotionally distraught. What began as a attempt to rediscover myself and possibly come out of this experience with the potential positive outcome of feeling like I'm a different and better person has instead left me with even more doubts and uncertainty than ever before.

I'm not necessarily emotionally unstable, but I must admit that I am filled with more angst and heartbreak than I originally thought that I would ever have. Sad thing is, I don't exactly know why.

Well, actually, that's probably bullshit. I could probably hazard a fairly good guess as to why.

The thing is that I hate hurting people. I avoid confrontation as much as possible, mostly because I choose to see the best in people and think that I can magically fix all problems with a few kind words and a ton of hard work. It's not necessarily a bad trait sometimes, but there has to be some limit.

I am, for lack of a better word, a caretaker. I take care. That is what I do.

In relationships, in friendships, even with members of my own family from time to time, I sometimes take great heavy emotional burdens upon my own shoulders. Mostly because I have good intentions, but also because it is in my nature to do so. Even at the expense of my own health, wealth and happiness.

I find myself giving and giving because I don't want people to hurt. I never fully realized that there had to come a point where I needed to assign a stopping point to this behaviour. There is only so much that someone can give before they become a wraith, a slave to other person's emotional balance.

Subconciously, I have been attracted to people who have troubled pasts, emotional problems and low self-esteem. I can't say this is true of every woman I've ever dated, but overall the majority were lugging around some heavy baggage. I may fall in love with them because of their outward emotional and intellectual presentation. They make me laugh, they possess higher intelligence, they can be very sweet. Sadly, however, it isn't until later in the relationship that I begin to see the downside of the person.

Some were pretty darn clever in hiding their scars. One in particular had me blinded for a year before her darker side manifested itself. It's a testament to my naive, Pollyannish, nature that I don't see the bear trap before it's chewed its way halfway deep into my ankle.

My grandfather, ever tactful, told me once that "You are smarter than this, if you're using the thinking head instead of the other." Normally, his tongue-in-cheek teasing would elicit a chuckle, but I actually prefer how my brother put it. He said that I have to learn to think more with my brain and not with my heart when in situations where my emotional state is in crisis.

I feel like I'm in a bad corner at the moment. Debating between what logic and reason tell me versus what my conflicting emotions are telling me. Part of me knows that this state of emergency is temporary and that karma will decide eventually my final course of action and the consequences that follow.

Perhaps this need not be as complex as I am attempting to make it. I know what I should do and I've taken actions along those lines. If things will work out and if I want them to, then great. If things won't work and I have to suffer the slings and arrows of a woman scorned, so be it.

None of this means that I feel like I'm the good guy in all this. Far from it. I feel like I had just emotionally shot my best friend and that kills me more than anything. But, actions must be taken and followed through. Hopefully, Bob willing, I'll eventually come out of all this happier and hopefully a lot wiser, no matter the outcome.

I just wish that things had never reached this point. Damnit.