Breakthrough!

This is what I have been waiting for all along. I had yet to feel that familiar academic panic that accompanied every finals season in undergrad and I met hubris for my lack of effort and concern over classes. Every semester culminated with a week spent in the library poring over books and outlines crafted from half assed notes jotted down on the sometimes rare occasion that I made it to class. This term was a little different at least. I attended almost every class and only missed for legitimate reasons. I have had such a terribly difficult time getting back into the necessary mindset for writing academic papers. But here I am. 2:45 in the morning on the last week of class; caffeine ripping through my body like heroin and wide awake with work in the morning. I remember those days from undergrad when I would shamble from class to class and final to final after not sleeping for 40+ hours just counting down until I was done. I remember that I started the idiotic and sometimes almost disastrous practice of being good all week during finals only to go out with a vengeance the night before my last Croft final. Why? I honestly have no idea. I can say that I never bombed that last Croft final though in all of my years of slacking at Ole Miss. The last one, even through a semi-intoxicated haze in the aftermath of capping the semester off in a blaze of glory, was never as difficult as the first one. The first one was the one I really had to buckle down for.

Allow me to be frank. There is a perfectly normal reason for my not posting in two months. Assuredly, it was not because there was nothing of note to report. Oh no. There was plenty. The problem was one that I never anticipated. Writer’s block. In the worst kind of way. I was too busy thinking about how the hell I was going to write end of term papers that I forgot a key component of good writing; sometimes you simply have to get things off your chest. Just write. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or uses great syntax or clever euphemisms. Just put it out there. The quickest way to knock something loose is to go throw everything you’ve got down and see how it all lays out.

This first semester in grad school was a struggle. Maybe for those of you who have already had your first term back in school know what I am talking about. It sucks. It’s different. I feel like I have regressed in general intelligence, although I have this awful suspicion that I simply am not as bright as I would like to give myself credit for.

Strange memories this nervous night in our nation’s capitol. I remember those nights in the library or the honor’s college on campus. The honor’s college always seemed to be absolutely freezing and was never the most comfortable place to study, but at least it was open 24 hours. Those long outlines used for Croft finals and going over them time and again, all in search of that big picture idea to convey back to the professors that spent the semester trying to pry into our heads between all the malted hops and bong resin. I remember working through the night and getting to that stage where being awake isn’t really applicable any more, but rather just being. I remember staying up all night working on a project, heading out to help judge a JROTC field meet, then immediately heading to Memphis for a Jay-Z concert. As if that wasn’t enough after going sleepless for 40 hours, my drunk ass friends needed a driver and decided to stay at a house party until dawn. All of this was capped off by throwing a football with friends as the sun came up over Huntington Place, still unsure of what exactly had happened over the last 46 hours, but nevertheless strangely excited and altogether proud that I had been awake for that entire time.

I feel like it’s a new dawn and a new day. I promise to blog more. The music is slowing down.

Live triumphantly.

Restless Rumblings...

Before I packed up for the weekend on Friday, I began an entry that was full of cautious optimism for the coming weekend. Ole Miss had just enjoyed a media sponge bath and the football team scored a glorious upset of the Florida Gators. However, after fumbling the ball away on Saturday and being forced to watch my other team meltdown on Monday Night Football, I must think again how nice it would be to support a team that actually wins consistently. The one good thing that came out when Pandora opened the box that Zeus gave to her and Epimetheus was hope. Hope springs eternal.

Early fall is one of my favorite times of the year to run. Things start cooling down after a long hot summer, and familiar trails change colors and reveal new perspectives that were previously unseen or unnoticed. This year however, in the middle of a personal revival of sorts concerning running, I am struck down by injury. Not of the accidental kind either. This injury is the first of its kind, which makes it all the more infuriating and frightening. My friends, I have developed a heel spur in my right foot. Not very dramatic, no; but it's the first developmental overuse injury that I have sustained thus far in my young life. I have developed this little bastard through a combination of both glorious and vainglorious lifestyle choices. Nemesis #1 can be solely attributed to wearing flip-flops during every season of the year for the past, I don't know, 16 years or so...Other than that, take your pick of these: not changing workout shoes often enough, running on pavement too much, blah blah blah, rah rah rah. The point is thus, I hate getting out of bed with shooting pains in my heel. It's not a good thing to wake up to, period. I have since ordered some sort of magical foam that promises to not only provide comfort and support, but also to reverse the process that made me grow this calcaneous crook of bone. It sucks. This morning, I woke up feeling quite a bit upset, besides the sore foot. This economic bailout package is bullshit. I read the original piece of legislation that failed in a vote on the House floor. The reasoning behind the failed vote was that Speaker Pelosi gave a partisan speech that “hurt the feelings” of many of the Republican congressmen and congresswomen. They got their feelings hurt. Please. They can handle having their entire lives examined under a microscope while campaigning for office, and yet, when it comes to one of the most important pieces of legislation they could hope to vote on, they get their feelings hurt and clam up. Then, to sweeten the deal for everyone, they throw a bone to those who didn’t vote for it. That’s right, for all of those who didn’t vote for this package, they got their piece of the 700 billion dollar pie. The original bill was 108 pages, and relatively succinct as far as congressional bills go. The final version was 451, and filled to the brim with pulled pork sandwiches. And yet, with everything else going on in the country, almost no one took any notice of this. All the money that is supposed to be going to financial institutions, banks, lenders, mortgage companies, and small businesses will instead be going to funding projects like these: a $2 million tax benefit for makers of wooden arrows for children; a $100 million tax break to benefit auto racetrack owners; $192 million in rebates on excise taxes for the Puerto Rican and Virgin Islands rum industry; $148 million in tax relief for U.S. wool fabric producers; and a $49 million tax benefit for fishermen and other plaintiffs who sued over the 1989 tanker Exxon Valdez spill…

My friends, we are doomed. We let things like this happen. Then we reelect the assholes that are responsible.

Not that it matters anyway. The bailout package itself will bring many of the aforementioned financial institutions under government control. Soon, we will be purchasing our insurance, mortgages, medical care, and loans from the government. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to socialism…

All is not lost. It was a beautiful weekend in Washington, D.C. Jacqueline and I spent the entire weekend together doing lovely couple type things. Next week, we will have been together for two years, which is inconceivable. It has been wonderful, and nothing to expect but more wonderment. She is awesome.

Classes are classes. I don’t really feel like I am a student again. It really just feels like I have a couple extra meetings during the week. I will have to put my nose to the grindstone though soon, midterm papers due dates are closing in. Work goes well, and I hope to interview for a significant promotion soon. Hopefully my good karma is back on top.

I was raised to my second degree in Freemasonry last week. It has been a good journey so far. I have learned a great deal and have met interesting people from all over the world. It seems strange to me to walk in the footsteps of Presidents, and so many others of such high esteem. I hope to do them proud one day. The best parts about the lodge are the fellowship and the charity. There was a significant hole in my person for a long time which I was unable to pinpoint. Then I thought back to a conversation I had with my grandfather when I was very young. He told me (roughly paraphrased) that there would come a point in my life when everything was on the upswing. I would be getting my feet under me personally, professionally, socially, etc. I would then start to think what was missing. He then told me to bear in mind the fraternal orders based in philanthropy. The man was near prophetic in his foresight, for he nearly described my exact situation. I think it is very important to devote time to those less fortunate. There is very strong evidence that those who give of themselves lead longer and fuller lives, are less susceptible to many diseases, and are more satisfied with their lives in society. All these are very strong motivating factors, and if you do good things, I believe you can reasonably expect good things in return.

On a somewhat unrelated note from the bailout package, I have been thinking a good deal about where our society will fit into the national history when it is all said and done. I have come to conclusion that our society will be known as the Great Society of Pussies. We have never known true hardship or abject poverty. We have never known true social conflict, or true war. Most of us have never known what it is like to truly struggle to make it day to day. We are a bunch on whining, complaining babies that expect everything to be made right by the few of us willing to put forth the sweat, blood, and tears to do it. I am in no way proclaiming to be exempt from this epitaph either. I am just as guilty as most everyone else. As a more or less avid student of history, I consider it a damn shame that my generation may be the tooth decay in the national grill so to speak.

Buy your books now, they will be obsolete and out of mainstream use in 15 years. Some years thereafter, they will be collectors’ items for the eccentric.

All is not lost. The Bald Eagle will soon be removed from the endangered species list.

I feel better after some venting and airing out some of the grievances that have been levied on the world by poor leaders and stupid people. I feel that we get so wrapped up in the little things that we forget to look at the big picture. The world has become a rapidly changing and evolving place. It’s an exciting time and place to be alive. It’s a great day to be alive.

I leave you today with several quotes.

"This is a very personal relationship, 'value', has two good factors for a human being. First, what he can do with a thing, its use to him. And second, what he must do to get it, its cost to him. There is an old song which asserts 'the best things in life are free'. Not true! Utterly false! This is one thing that will bring about the decadence and collapse of the democracies of the twentieth century; those noble experiments might fail because the people had been led to believe that they could simply vote for whatever they wanted, and get it. Without toil, without sweat, without tears. The bottom line is that nothing of value is free. Even the breath of life is purchased at birth only through gasping effort and pain. If we had to sweat for our blessings the way that a newborn has to struggle to live, we would be happier, and much richer. As it is, we should be pitied for the poverty of our wealth."
Robert Heinlein, Starship Troopers

"Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life has not.''
Bill Gates

"A state is not a mere society, having a common place, established for the prevention of mutual crime and for the sake of exchange...Political society exists for the sake of noble actions, and not of mere companionship."
Aristotle

And one more from the good doctor. We miss you good sir, the world needs more of those who swim against the tide every, single, solitary day.

"They herded us out of the ready room and called a ragged kind of cadence while we double-timed it across the wet grass under the guava trees in back of the hall, and finally burst through a well guarded access door held open for us by Secret Service men just as the balloons were released from the ceiling. It was wonderful; I waved happily to the Secret Service agent as I raced past him with the herd onto the convention floor. The hall was so full of balloons that I couldnt see anything at first, but then I spotted Chancellor up there in the booth and I let the bastard have it. First I held up my "Garbage Men Demand Equal Time" sign at him. Then, when I was sure he'd noticed the sign, I tucked it under my arm and ripped off my hat, clutching it in the same fist I was shaking angrily at the NBC booth and screaming at the top of my lungs: "You evil scumsucker! You're through! You limp-wristed Nazi moron!"
I went into the foulest back-waters of my vocabulary for that trip, working myself into a flat-out screeching hate-franzy for five or six minutes and drawing smiles of approval from some of my fellow demonstrators. They were dutifully chanting the slogans that had been assigned to us in the ready room- but I was REALLY into it, and I could see that my zeal impressed them."
Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72.

Don’t settle for the status quo. Live Triumphantly.

Living the Dream

So it has been about two months since my last post. I am evidently a poor blogger. I am rather unabashed about this, but then again, what is the point if I never commit anything to this.

The world speeds up when you leave home and college. The hours go by faster and there are simply more things to worry about. This was probably the most startling discovery that I have made about growing up. The worst part is the worrying. I never used to worry about anything, and now there are many things that merit some extra thought and attention. Knowledge may well be power, but ignorance is indeed bliss. Either way, these notions are for another time and another place, we shall move on to more significant things.

The general update: I placed 6th overall in the 2008 Beer Mile. Although I was shooting for a top 5 finish, my time was two minutes faster than last year and my performance was much better and stronger than my first attempt. Next year if I knock another minute off of that time, I should be sitting pretty. As far as other hash events go, I have not been going very often. I have classes on Thursdays and usually am spending my weekends catching up on rest and generally being unmotivated to do much other than spending as long as possible at leisure. Speaking of classes, I started grad school. It’s really not so different from undergrad. The caliber of student is higher, but that’s to be expected. Otherwise, its been busy. Between weddings and football and TNDC and school and work; there is little time for other activities. So instead of being boorish, here is an account from the travel days. Enjoy!

May 16, 2006
Landing in Lisbon was a familiar feeling. I do not care all that much for airports, but this one is rising on my hit list. Oh well, at least I knew where I was going. I jumped on the 44 bus across from the BP gas station just outside the airport and went straight to the Oriente train station. On my first trip to this majestic city on Portugal’s coast, I went to the top of the Mall Vasco de Gama and had a meal to celebrate my arrival to Europe. Since it was my first footsteps on European soil, I had no idea how the trip was to unfold and setting off into the relative unknown was bold exciting and intimidating. This time however, there was no dawdling, and I got lucky and only had to wait 10 minutes for a train to the interior of the country. Joao will be meeting me in Coimbra and it looks like I will stay with him, as he has offered to share his new apartment with his old roomie. It feels strange to be back. Like I never really left, but just went away for a long weekend. Everything is familiar and normal. I am in Portugal again. I love this country.

May 20-The Algarve, Notes on the First Days
Taking stock of the last few days, I would have to say that my experiences thus far have been mixed. I finally got out of Coimbra yesterday. I ended up staying there a day longer than I would have liked to, and if I didn’t still have many friends there, I wouldn’t have gone there in the first place. I arrived in Faro yesterday. I have had a headache that has now lasted for several days. On the bright side, Coimbra was fun. I saw Dave the night of the Champions League final between FC Barcelona and the Arsenal. For a few seconds, he acted like nothing was strange seeing me there, standing next to him in the bar. Then he jumped about 2 feet into the air, and asked me what the fuck I was doing there in his telltale Bristol accent. It was good to see Carla again, though she had changed little. By and large, nothing of note had changed in Coimbra. It was a similar feeling to when I returned home from my initial trip to Portugal. Everyone was in much the same general state of confusion and slow movements which come with spring and summer afternoons in the somewhat sleepy country of Portugal. I stayed with Joao, my roommate from Lisbon, who had moved into an apartment that overlooked the soccer stadium at Dolce Vita. It was good to see him again, and that first night, Christine, Joao, and I returned to the shots bar for hopefully what will be the last time in my life. I don’t remember much past ordering the second round of shots. I called Carolin about 5 that morning, hammered out of my mind and telling her to be ready, because Germany was on my list…She is still laughing about that one.

The party at Casa Vermelha was very typical. It was just like old times really; beers and more beers. It was great to see all those guys again. I took many pictures, but only remember them up to a certain point. After that point, everyone in the pics had blue marker all over their faces, myself included. I also have the biggest shit-eating grin on my face. I had a great time that night, except that nobody really knows what happened in the hours around sunrise. I certainly don’t either. I don’t know what time I hit the black box, but when I realized that was going on, I was standing in the praca do portagem, making out with this Italian girl that I only vaguely remembered from the night’s festivities. I think her name was Adriana, but I won‘t ever be sure about that. Forgetting what had happened the last 4 hours and how I got down there is something that I won’t soon forget though. After drunkenly mumbling “a presto” I stumbled into a taxi and was only able to say “dolce vita”. Upon being dropped off, I ran into Joao, who was on his way to class. He stopped me in the hallway and tried to determine what had happened to me that night. Being that I was unable to articulate what I remembered (either in English or in Portuguese), he bid me good day and told me he would return later. I immediately entered the now rather messy studio apartment and flopped onto a cushion on the floor for some much needed rest.

When I awoke several hours later, I felt a little bad. I lived in this city for 6 months and woke up hung over many times. There was absolutely nothing special about this afternoon. It was exactly the sort of thing I had vowed to avoid, which was falling into comfortable patterns. This trip was supposed to be the last hurrah before forging out into the world on my own. It was the farewell tour to irresponsibility and the welcome tour to accountability. It affected my mood for the rest of the day, and by nightfall I was sure about one thing. I had to escape from Coimbra. A fantastic and beautiful city indeed; but I had to get out. The next morning, I had my last meal in Coimbra. The thought had struck me that I would not likely see this city again for many years, if ever. Reflecting on my time spent walking, running, and stumbling through the narrow streets snaking their ways up and down the hills and through the baixas in the Old City; it occurred to me that the city would never again hold the appeal that it once did. Those people that shaped and molded my experiences there would return home, taking with them most of the remaining impetus for me to travel back to Central Portugal. Joao drove me down to the train station and bid me farewell. Like a moebius loop, I was leaving from the same station, Coimbra B, that I had first arrived at almost one year in the past. I remember that day vividly. I was utterly confused and had no idea what I had just gotten myself into. I remember the smell of the city. I had only been in continental Europe for four hours, and I was hooked. I didn’t know what the meaning of being Portuguese was, and even now I can only speculate; for it is possible that not even they do not understand it fully. I remember my first days, lonely and wondrous, wandering through the meandering streets; lost more often than not. I remember my first days of class there. Everyone was a stranger; yet there was something that had drawn each of us to this small country on the western periphery of the Old Continent. That we all had this in common was comforting and intriguing. Most of us had come there alone, without classmates or friends or family. We had all mostly just been dropped off in an alien environment, but somehow we all expected to do well for ourselves. What resulted was the meeting of some of the greatest people I have ever known. Like I said before, I was the only American in the program there. I was taken in like family by my friends there. I shall never forget them.

I left Coimbra with bittersweet memories floating around in my head. The train ride was several hours down to the southern coast, so I busied myself by reading and taking in the vistas on the way. As you get closer to the Algarve, the terrain to the South of Lisbon turns increasingly rocky and jagged. The stone is mostly all the same tan-orange color, and it looked beautiful in the afternoon sun of Portugal in the summertime. It was a very warm day, but upon arriving in Faro, the breeze coming in from the ocean made it more than bearable, and even pleasant along the water. I waited about an hour for James and Caroline to arrive. Of all of my great friends from the Coimbra days, those two were among my favorites.

Upon arrival, we arranged a place to meet. Walking towards the two of them filled me with happiness and when James opened his mouth in a wide smile, I stopped. Apparently, during his time in Seville, one of his front teeth had fallen out. I immediately was in stitches. I later learned that this tooth was originally knocked out during a hooligan fight in Sheffield, and that only the cap had fallen out. Upon greeting these two, we sat down at the nearest watering hole to rundown how things had gone since my departure from Portugal 4 months earlier. They were now both studying in Southern Spain; and basically loving the hell out of it. At the time, I had never visited the Andalusia region of the country, but my first impressions were to become treasured memories of lazy, sun-soaked afternoons on the southern Iberian Peninsula. After some beers we lazed our way through the streets until we happened upon a hostel. This particular hostel, the name of which escapes me, sets on the edge of a small esplanade ringed by jasmine trees. The aroma in the late afternoon was intoxicating and refreshing; full of laziness and goodness. After checking in, we set off for dinner and had a great meal in a seafood place not far from the hostel and overlooking the harbor. After dinner we went on walkabout through the city. The cool sea air blew in on us and made our after dinner walk a most enjoyable experience. Faro is not exactly what I thought it might be. There were not a great deal of tourists around. I suppose that one has to go further West to Sagres to find them in greater amounts. Nonetheless, the night was capped off by James and I retiring to the bar to indulge ourselves in some whiskey drinking before turning in for the night. It was great to catch up with the guy and I felt happy as a clam for being in that small corner of the world at that time and place in history.

The next morning we arose and got breakfast, then packed up to head out to the beach. It was a clear and bright morning, and even though I was still tasting whiskey when I got up, I felt great and was ready for a day in the sun. We took a bus out to the coast, which runs right past all the salt flats that smell so terrible along the way. At some point when the bus had a scheduled stop, a tall, blonde guy jumped on and started walking towards the back of the bus where James, Caroline, and I were sitting. I glanced up at him and then did a quick double take. It appeared he had done much the same thing when he said “Hey! Remember me?!”. It was a German student I had met in Coimbra all the way back in the last fall. His name was Aleksander and he was now living in Faro, taking classes and thoroughly succeeding in being a first class beach bum. Hard knock life. It reinforced my idea that the world truly is a small place and that I have run into friends in such strange parts of the world that one who was more superstitious than I might interpret those chance meetings as some strange form of fate or destiny. Personally, I just thought it was weird.

Along the circuitous route to the beach, the bus passed by salt flats and low causeways connecting the various islands. When the bus finally arrived at the beach, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the beach was as picture perfect as advertised. With the warm Portuguese sun beating on our backs, we made sure to enjoy the day and revel in our vibrant youth and enviable lives at the time. It was the kind of day that one looks back upon with relish. After another tremendous dinner, we retired to the hostel to rest up before heading back to Spain the next day. While I knew that it was not to be the last day in Portugal, I knew that my return trip in a couple months would be the curtain call on my European adventures in this era of my life. There was a certain feeling of loss when we crossed into Spain by ferry the next day. I had little time for reflection however, and by the time we arrived in the white Spanish city of Ayamonte, I had other things to wonder about and a brain to make switch tracks to Spanish.

The Dog Days of Summer

I see that it has now been 30 days since my last posting. It would be far much more than I really care to write to recap what has transpired, and as such, I will just give the highlights.

I will start with a mid-year review of sorts regarding annual goals.

Here is what I have accomplished/done so far.
Begin a blog
Begin seriously investing for the future
Learn to Salsa Dance
Attend a sporting event in a corporate suite
Attend the Preakness States
See a game in Camden Yards
Go to the National Aquarium
Visit the Woodrow Wilson museum
Visit the Textile museum
Get hit by a car
Earn first degree in Freemasonry
Complete all 9 stages of Tour duh Hash

And then here is what I am still looking to do before year’s end.

Read 40 books – I have read 19 now and although I am a little behind, I feel I can make up the difference during winter holidays.
Begin graduate studies – Beginning in the fall at George Washington
Run a 10K in less than 40 minutes – Probably looking at doing this in the late fall as well
Top 5 in Beer Mile – Outlook is looking good for this as well
Quit picking finger nails – Admittedly not doing so well with this one
Attend an Opera – Had an opportunity but then had to cancel, will get more chances
Get promoted – Maintain good work performance and looks like a good chance
Be a sports team mascot – I have applied since I have been here to all 4 major sports in the area and I have never even gotten an interview. This is bullshit. So I'm trying to start off in the minor leagues and get some experience before going to the Show. Wish me luck.

So all in all, things are looking good to complete everything on the list right now. So while that is good, I feel like there is no singular, over-arching, crowning achievement on the list. Am I aiming too low? Do I seemingly lack the kind of ambition necessary to get ahead? It is difficult to tell for sure. If anyone has any comments or suggestions, please email me.

I had a physical yesterday and confirmed that I am in excellent health. The doctor even commended me on my proactive approach to personal health. Then what do I do?

Well, last week while running I had something on an epic fall while on a trail in the woods in Georgetown. It was one of those kinds of falls where you dont get your hands or arms out in front of you and you just hit the ground with unabated violence. After the savage wipe out and ascertaining that I was indeed okay, the first thing I did was look around to see if anyone had seen me. Seeing nobody else around, I got back up and limped up the hill. It would not have been all that bad except I was haring a trail and needed my legs under me to outrun the pack of thirsty hashers. In the end, it was a great success and many people let it be known that they wanted to punch Dan, Rob, and I in the face; which, of course, is in the highest echelon of praise for a trail.

John, Leslie, and Carter all came up for the 4th of July here in DC. It was great to see everyone since it means that I will see them more than once this year, and overall improvement of last year by 100%. Aside from a rather nasty ending to Friday night, the weekend was great. I succeeded in wearing them down after a few days, but at the expense of my own energy levels. Since I had to go to work and they didn’t, I feel I got the lesser of the deals…

Since then, its been a little bit of the same ole’ same ole’. Trips to South Carolina, dinner with old school friends, and Tuesday Night Drinking Club have been the highlights of the last couple weeks.

Running has become fun again! After running marathons last year, I was pretty burnt out on running for a while. I have rediscovered this joy though and I love running in the heat even more. I have no idea why I like to finish a run sucking wind and feeling the hammering of your heart running up killer hills. Love it…

I start grad school in August. Neutral feelings on this.

Last weekend was one of those times when you have to take a step back and read the writing on the wall. A potentially disastrous situation in many ways was somehow avoided. I will not expound on this, but I must say that I am a very lucky SOB.

I wish I were better at keeping this current. I don’t really know if anyone ever reads, but if so, I am sorry to fail in staying up to date.

For the first time in a couple months I will have the luxury of kicking back this weekend and taking it easy. To say that I am excited would be an understatement. After an eight week long whirlwind of activity, a couple days to decompress is immensely appealing.

Hasta la proxima folks. Live triumphantly.

2008 Tour duh Hash

As the sun sets on the 2008 Tour duh Hash, we few runners to complete the entire event are tired. As with anytime groups are faced with adversity, relationships become a little deeper and more intense in nature. For those of us who are done with it, we can take pride in our accomplishment. Our legs are worn; covered in cuts, scratches, poison ivy, and mud. Our stomachs, while looking flatter and more toned, reject the very whim of drinking more beer. It is in our hearts and minds where we have gained the most though. The 34 runners who completed all 9 stages of the tour will be inexorably linked by the ordeal. It makes one appreciate the savage difficulty of a truly grueling event or tour, like the Tour de France. Over the last 10 days, we have been led through all four corners of the DC metro area; through streams and ponds and flood plains; through chest high saw-grass and rampant poison ivy; up hills and through tunnels filled with shoe sucking mud. We have seen a little bit of everything over the course of ~45 miles of shiggy-filled trails.

During the tour, I was poignantly reminded of why I enjoy the hash. It’s than promoting fitness among members, working up a thirst through running, and satisfying that thirst in beer. It’s more than just a social outlet. While I wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that our thing is a way of life, it could be described as a philosophy in a relative sense. It doesn’t matter who you are, what you do, or where you’re from when at the hash. No one really cares anyway. We have doctors, lawyers, military officers, cancer researchers, capitol hill workers, etc; all the way down the other side of the spectrum. And you know what? It just doesn’t matter. Like Bill Murray’s “It just doesn’t matter” speech in the movie Meatballs; it simply doesn’t. What does matter to this special group of people is much less obvious and many times more ambiguous. Generally speaking, a good sense of humor and the ability to not take one’s self too seriously are among the main criteria for maximum enjoyment of the hash. Everything else is just icing. Cheers to everyone that finished the tour and best of luck until next year!

Get Silly

Wow. So the last entry was from May 23rd and talking about Kenny Loggins…Alrighty then. Anyways, I suppose a great deal has happened in the days and weeks since. Jacqueline had her birthday, which was great fun and everyone who came to the Under the Sea party seems to have had a rather good time. Softball season started and though I have been solid defensively so far, my offensive output is well below normal. There have been more baseball games and museum trips, and more friends who have come to visit. Lots of running too as I am in the middle of training for a sub 40 minute 10K and I have a friendly wager with a buddy as to who will have the better showing at Beer Mile this year.

I am now in the middle of preparing for the GMAT, and getting classes lined up for the fall. Blah. Going back to school is going to suck, but I would be foolish not to take advantage of corporate benefits. This week, however, we stand in the vortex of this year’s Tour duh Hash. Washington, DC is a place without peer when it comes to this, a favored activity of mine. Nine hashes in nine days. That’s right. Insanity. Today marks day three, and it should be getting good this week. I am looking forward to completing the Tour this year. More on that next time.

I sometimes feel that running through the daily events of my life is a very boring thing to do. In reality, my life has become very domestic in many ways; more ways than I care to admit to myself even. All in all, it’s not a bad thing. I have had many strange and wonderful experiences; so what if it doesn’t happen every day anymore. The truth is, I now live in an adult world and I am expected to act accordingly. But it still sucks.

There are good facets as well. I am in phenomenal shape so far as diet, hydration, and cardiovascular fitness. I need to spend more time in the weight room, but I do okay. Professional and personal life are very good too. Jacqueline keeps me grounded, and is a very positive influence. Either way, I will have to write more later on. It’s raining and I am not really feeling overly creative right now, as it probably shows in the quality of my writing. Back tomorrow hopefully.

Live triumphantly.

Sedit qui timuit ne non succederet.

As I walked into work this morning, I was listening to the theme music from Caddy Shack II; a song entitled “Nobody’s Fool” by Kenny Loggins. Let me go ahead and say that Kenny Loggins is one of the finest American artists ever, and screw you if you think otherwise. Either way, I had an epiphany as I gazed into the clear morning sky probably still a little buzzed from last night. I came to the realization that I haven’t any time to waste. As I get ready to go back to school in the fall, I now realize that I must strive to be better in all aspects of life in the coming days, months, and years. Not that this was a totally new and novel idea, but sometimes things conjure little reminders. I have said many times that it is too easy to get into routine and forget about striving to move beyond what you have already done.

I want to fill this little spiel with positive things. I realize that I strayed away from that last week and I pledge to not do so again in the future. I did not begin this as an outlet for frustrations, per se, and especially not those that have little bearing on my situation in life. Life is good. I love this city and the life I have forged for myself. I have been lucky to have been in the position to do some cool things in DC so far.

Last weekend was a great time. It started Friday afternoon after a short trip to Baltimore. After dropping off our stuff, we headed to the ballpark to do some pre-gaming. I figured that we would park some blocks away from the stadium and hoof it back to the area. I was wrong. Rachel pulls into the prime time parking spot right across the street from the main entrance to Camden Yards. One of her best friends growing up was the proprietor of the bar and so we got rock star parking. Then after eating and drinking for free for the next couple hours, they send us into the stadium to sit in the club level. If you have been there before, it’s the giant red brick warehouse in the outfield. The atmosphere was great, and they even set us up with a pre-paid bar tab, which needless to say was pretty sweet. After the game it was back to the beginning for another hour of revelry before retiring for the night in anticipation of Preakness.

After getting up way too early the following morning, we drove back into the city proper and made our way to the bar that organized the bus trip to Pimlico. After a couple hours of breakfast and bloody mary’s, we all boarded the bus in high spirits and headed out to the track. We had our own roped off section right next to one of the betting booths. We had a great view of the horses as they went into the final turn. We also were out of the main fracas in terms of beer bombs, and had a straight shot to the restrooms. In short, it was a pretty baller spot to be in. I didn’t come away in the positive in terms of wagering on the races, but I made bets on almost all of them and only ended up losing about $20. It was an insanely long day and I think I stood on top of the cooler for about 7 hours simply observing the raucous that took place all over the infield. It was a great experience.

Sunday morning came too early, but Jacqueline and I had to be at the National Aquarium early for a dolphin show. I must say that I always enjoyed going to things like this and I am glad that JQ is interested in going as well. When your mother is a science teacher, you kind of have to grow up fascinated with sea creatures and whatnot. We got back to DC that afternoon and immediately crawled into bed, where we remained except for a short break for dinner. At the end of the weekend, I can say that the experience at the race course was like a mix between a football Saturday and a NASCAR race, for better or for worse. It was a great time and now we get to watch and see if Big Brown can lock up the Triple Crown. Go Big Brown!

In an unrelated note, the Ole Miss Rebel baseball team has gotten hot at exactly the right time. They won last night’s game at the SEC tourney in dramatic fashion and they look to have all the momentum going into their games this weekend. While they will not host a regional even if they do win the tournament, they should go in as a #2. Hopefully, they pull that out and we see another #2 win their regional opposite of ours. In that case, there is a very real chance that Oxford may be able to host a super regional. If that is the case, maybe this is the year I have been waiting on. Perhaps this is the year when we see a breakthrough and the you-know-who’s make it to the you-know-what’s in you-know where. I don’t even want to say it, but I feel I must. If the Rebels make it to Omaha this year, I am going to make the trip, hands down, bar none. Every year I have been disappointed this time of year, but this year, I am starting to believe. All it takes is being hot this time of the season and catching a few breaks. If they do, I am booking my flight while jamming Counting Crows and will finally make the trip to collegiate baseball Mecca. Go Rebs!

Live triumphantly.

Weekly Affirmations

In six weeks, half of the current calendar year will be finished. It will be time to take stock of accomplishments and setbacks that have occurred so far in this fair year of our lord, 2008. Enough of that for now though, as it is still 6 weeks away with much to do.

Last weekend was exhausting. One of Jacqueline’s roommates from Italy came for a visit and while we had a good time and she is a cool girl, there wasn’t a lot of downtime left over after entertaining all weekend. And now as we are heading into another weekend of grand activity, all I can think about is crawling into bed and staying there for a few days. Perhaps one of these weekends can be a little less energy intensive and allow me to catch up on much needed mental health reparation. No rest for the wicked however.

So tonight, we will load up our coolers full of beer and high hopes, and boom north to Baltimore. Apparently, Rachel not only scored us box seats for the game (clutch since the weather prognosticators say it will rain) but also a free in-game bar tab as well. So there goes taking it easy tonight I guess. Either way, rain or no rain, we should have a good time as we have good and motivated crew. I have been doing my research on horses this weekend and I think I have a decent shot at not losing much money betting on horse racing tomorrow. Mental note: remember to bring a pen. We have infield tickets, so I expect to return to our home base tomorrow night completely covered in mud. I can just imagine what all day rains and 100,000+ spectators are going to do to Pimlico. Either way it should be a good time and I am especially glad that I self-vetoed my pledge to drink only boxed wine that day. I think that would be an exceptionally bad idea given that we will arrive to the race field about 8:00am…

There has been some negative backlash after the filly Eight Belles went down after the Kentucky Derby. People say that horse racing is barbaric, outdated, and simply too taxing on the horses. While I must respect their opinions, I cannot agree. Hundreds of horse races occur every day. Rarely does a colt or a filly sustain injury. It is just the last two years that grievous injuries have occurred on the biggest stages of the sport. Now we have funds and charities set up in the names of the fallen horses. I am all for charity in most shapes and forms, but I think people should pay more attention to what is really important in the world instead of concerning themselves with such inconsequential and inane drivel that is spoon-fed to them by way of popular television news services. Make your OWN opinions about things!!! Seriously, in today’s “look at me” society, one would things that more value would be placed on individual ideas and points of view. It is a travesty that the “cookie-cutter” rationalisms and idealisms are so quickly taken up by the general public (talented cattle). The facts are out there people! Quit making it so easy to be duped!

Well…Now everyone can take a breath. A little venting there I guess, but DC is like that sometimes. Actually, while I am in the mood, I will address another dagger in my heart concerning the American Public at large. American Idol and Dancing With the Stars. Who fucking cares? I want to yell this at friends and metro patrons alike with such vehemence that they would swear it was religious fervor. God have mercy on the souls that ask what I thought about Idol last night. I. Do. Not. Care.

Okay this time I am serious. I am done with the anger management. However, I am now tired and have errands to run before the weekend odyssey begins.

Live in triumphant reality.

the week ends, the week begins...

Ernest Hemingway describes his early writing processes while living in 1920’s Paris in his book “A Moveable Feast”. He began writing this work in between trips to Cuba, Spain, and Idaho of all places during the late 1950’s. The title of this work, which was published posthumously, was derived from a letter he penned to a colleague in 1950.

“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you are for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”

Although I presume to understand his intended meaning, I found it difficult to draw a true parallel to his words at first. Given some time to reflect, I think I have come to a greater understanding of what old Ernie was saying. I think anyone could substitute Paris for anywhere that is the setting for formative experiences, whether it be Paris, France or Paris, Arkansas. This is apparently a rather unvarnished thought and it is difficult to articulate exactly what it means to me at this moment. Thus, I will continue onward.

The last week and change have been pretty nice here. My petition was accepted and so long as lodge voting goes well, I can reasonably expect to be raised to an Entered Apprentice sometime in the next 6 weeks or so. One of our customer relations reps here called to ask if I would like tickets to the Boeing corporate suite in the new Washington Nationals stadium last Friday. I told them I could probably stand to work it into my schedule and even though the home team lost, it was a pretty sweet setup…Everyone and their mothers had Cinco de Mayo parties and so Saturday was mostly spent trying to stay upright and coherent amid a maelstrom of cheap tequila. I even managed to speak quite a bit of Spanish with some nice Chileños that were patrons at one of the fiestas we made it to. Sunday was a glorious day here and full of fresh sunshine. Jacqueline and I made brunch and proceeded to do nothing the entire day, which was enjoyable to the maximum.

The next few weeks will be fraught with good times and great oldies. This weekend, one of JQ’s roommates from Italy will be staying, so we get to play tour guide. I don’t really mind doing this, since I still think that this stuff is all pretty cool. I realize that I need to learn more about things still so I have some background on some of the museums and monuments to relay to our guests, much akin to what I did while working in the Capitol.

The following weekend is what I am truly ready for. A small group of us will be heading up to Baltimore on Friday for the Orioles game in Camden Yards. I have heard that if you are a true fan of baseball, Camden is one of the ballparks that you must make it to. Saturday will be the Preakness Stakes and my first experience with a Triple Crown horse racing event. One of these years, I would like to make it to all three events, but in the meantime it cannot hurt to make it to one or two. I am especially excited for the port-a-let racing. Check it out on YouTube if you don’t get know what I am talking about. I plan to buy some boxed wine and pack a picnic lunch with our compatriots and hopefully the weather will hold us as well. On Sunday, JQ and I will hit up the National Aquarium, also in Baltimore. This is something that the both of us have wanted to do for a while now, and finally our plans for going are coming to fruition.

All in all, life is good here. You never really know where you can find a moveable feast, but there seems to be one right here with my name on it. As the good doctor wrote in the Vegas book, “You could strike sparks anywhere”. I feel you Dr. T.

Now, who wants to go to Spain next year for the Fiesta de San Fermin and run away from large and ornery bulls?

Live triumphantly.

mens sana in corpore sano

It’s just another day in paradise here in our nation’s fair capitol. The last few weeks have got me thinking. DC is a pretty transient city all things considered; people come and people go. Congress is elected and reelected, administrations are changed over, contracts begin and end, and the tides of people ebb and flow. Three good friends are leaving soon and I guess I had not been here long enough to experience this turnover of people here. I never truly expected to be in DC after school was finished, most likely because I never really had a plan for afterwards. I realize now how foolish that really was of me in the end. So now, as I plan to go back to school to further my education, I can take stock of what undergrad was and vow to be a better student this time around, at least I hope so.

So what happens after DC for everyone else? They go back home, back to their respective countries and states, back to their old friends and extended families. They move on to bigger and better positions elsewhere in the country. They are reassigned by the military or deployed to various theatres of operation. They might simply get tired of the pretentious attitude that pervades the city as well. If they are from the North, they may get tired of what they call “the South” and vice versa for all of us from the real South. There are multitudes of reasons and motivations for moving away from this place, but honestly, I have not reached my limits here yet. I have been playing a little game with myself lately when running. Instead of running a designed trail or route, I pick a building or monument and run to it. So one day, I might run to the Lincoln memorial, while the next my goal is to go throw a rock in the Potomac River and then run back home up the hills through Georgetown. There are embassy parties and special interests events for anything you could possibly be interested in. There are all of the Smithsonian museums that not only are great institutions, they are also free. DC is a great city, with a lot to offer. It might not be the final destination in life, but it sure does have a lot of road signs to point the way.

So now, as I sit here after 18 months of life in this part of the world, I feel a certain sense of satisfaction over what I have lost and gained. I still marvel at the Capitol building every time I walk by it. The hair on the back of my neck still stands straight up when I hear the National Anthem. I have lost my faith in the public education system in America. We are falling behind more and more, and we will reap the whirlwind someday on this. People think it is crazy that we are fighting over oil right now? Wait 10 more years when we are fighting over fresh water. You can live without oil; water? Not so much. Americans are among the most self-centered and pompous jerks in the world, but our country is still the greatest in the world.

I turned in my official petition to Naval Freemason Lodge #4. I have my official investigation this Thursday and I would be remiss to say that I am not a little nervous. I don’t know why, but I think it’s natural to feel that way about something that means so much. Many of the other brothers are fantastic people, and I should be humbly proud to be counted among their ranks. I find myself getting peeved a little when people claim that they know all about the brotherhood and then proceed to tell me about what “exactly” I am doing and whom I will be associating with. Whatever. Read a fucking book that wasn’t written by an idiot with an agenda or a sensationalist, and then make up your own ideas about something before you lecture me and claim to be my own personal soothsayer.

Sorry for that folks, every once in a while the anger bubbles to the surface in unexpected places. Speaking about unexpected places, I was out running a while ago and became terribly lost in the woods somewhere in Maryland. I was about to turn around and look for something familiar when I came into a clearing with a 30 foot tall statue of Lady Justice. Needless to say, I stopped dead in my tracks and asked one of my favorite rhetorical questions that you would say in the NATO phonetic alphabet as “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot”…I kept running and passed a dozen more statues before coming out of the woods into this old crazy looking complex with stone arches, beautiful old buildings crumbling from disuse, and unkempt gardens surrounding the area. I did some research and came to find out that it used to be an old seminary school which is now undergoing a restoration effort. It even has a large pagoda building on a lake further down the trail I was on! So that got me thinking. I wondered what other kinds of crazy stuff you can find in the areas around DC? What kinds of crazy tunnels and underground stuff can you find? I heard a story recently that they were doing some renovations in the basement of the Capitol building and saw some stone mortar that was newer than the original brick. They knocked down the wall to find a small room with nothing inside except a large stuffed horse. Like someone’s horse had died, and he had the thing stuffed and walled up in the basement room underneath the United States Capitol building!!! Someone, somewhere was rolling in their grave laughing. It inspired me to try and learn more of these crazy stories. So for now, I will try and make a foray into the world of urban adventuring. Updates to come. The whole point of this spiel is simple; there is nothing more glorious than insatiable human curiosity. If something captures your imagination, explore it!

As always,
Live Triumphantly.

The Glory Daze of Fillmore Revisited

Let me begin this installment with an affirmation. I love the South, Oxford, Ole Miss, the Grove, the Right Field Suds Club, Fillmore Avenue, and all those crazies who live there and spend their time there. And while I don’t understand why, I also love that Jacey continues to allow us to defile her home when we make our semi-annual visits to God’s country.

This trip was different. It was a tribute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country when you are around good people. It was a tribute to springtime in Oxford, which I figure to be one of the most beautiful places around. It was tribute to a Dane Cook sketch. It was a tribute to a bunch of old friends still meeting up to make a lot of noise in as many places as possible. It was a tribute to Natural Light. It was a tribute to the changing dynamic of our personal and professional lives as they come into collision with our former, less responsible selves. It was a tribute to the Beatles. It was a tribute to Rebel baseball on a glorious Saturday afternoon. It was a tribute to some old Rebel football greats. It was a tribute to some of the craziest and most interesting people I have had the privilege to know.

I honestly cannot recall how I could have possibly graduated while living on that street. It is frankly impossible to expect that any work will get done once you turn down that hill. However, most of us have done it and I even managed to successfully write a thesis while residing there. I guess all things are possible.

The weekend started off well enough except my leaving my phone in a taxi on the way to the airport. So that now makes my last three trips down to Oxford where I have lacked mobile communication. It’s an impressive streak. We got down and picked up our rental car and boomed for the O. Upon arrival, a quick yet nasty dinner at Sonic and we were off to Pearl Street for 2 for 1. I have to say that I do miss that place somewhat. Thursday nights always used to start off there for me and I think for the most part I would not even bother leaving. Back to Fillmore later on, where we did a pretty good job of getting waste face.

Friday morning was pretty fair and we got up and grabbed lunch at Ajax, which is a place that I miss very dearly as well. The day was spent running errands and picking up provisions and souvenirs. Friday night was pure insanity, highlighted by a great victory at Swayze Field. Parrish’s was attended and everyone got pretty blasted. Many funny parts from that evening including sitting on the outside couch with the Stevens’ and trying to open my eyes, and ultimately being unsuccessful…

Saturday was a glorious day. Bloomer and I set out for the Grove to set up the tent and then returned for some breakfast with Dylan, one of the five greatest rappers of all time. After picking up the rest of the crew, we hit the Grove, only to find that we were the only assholes drinking at 11:00am that day. We listened to Eli and P-Willie and then hung around until almost halftime before sauntering into the stadium. We stayed for about 10 minutes at most before deciding that McAllister’s was calling our names and the need to head out to Swayze was becoming stronger by the minute. I have only seen a baseball game like that once before, when we were playing Alabama one Grovebowl weekend a few years ago. It was crazy how many people made it out for the game. After much playing with the Cobra Kai security guards and running into Brad and Ben while relieving myself in the woods, much rejoicing and merriment was made at the game. We won again that day and there would be no recitation of “Casey at the Bat” that day. Afterwards, I cut a chunk out of my toe and sat outside for a bit. I was fortunate because when I saw Ben drive their drunk asses home, he stepped out of the car and immediately fell onto the ground. Brad, for his part, did a twirling dive into an azalea bush in the front yard, which is where he remained to finish the rest of his chicken-on-a-stick. That night got pretty hazy quickly and luckily for me, the John’s suggested to get some rest before we got into trouble that night. We basically elbowed most people out of the back room of Parrish’s (again) and were treated to E$ and Brent dancing up a storm (sometimes with each other) all over the back room. Many adult beverages were spilled and then the exodus back to the Fillmore club began.

Flying back on a cold Sunday was bittersweet. I know that my life so different now than it was when I lived there. There is something deeply enticing about glorious irresponsibility; something that which the Fillmore club deals in abundance. It has thus inspired me to create a top ten list of Fillmore memories. Without further adieu, here we go.

10. The Inaugural Fillmore Hills Golf & Country Club Invitational golf tournament. We had a trophy made and a gold jacket tailored. The first year saw several broken windows and golf clubs, but it saw even more broken spirits. I myself withdrew in the second round as I was already out of contention. The course map still hangs in the hallway for 1420.

9. The week that Doooooooooooooook came to visit.

8. Finding out at MC’s lake house in Alabama that Johnny Walker and I live two houses apart. Then he set my hand on fire because he is a bad, bad man.

7. Speaking of Johnny Walker, who can forget his stunt man night? Walking on hot coals and throwing himself through the backyard fence? That takes dedication. And 17 shots of tequila.

6. Hippodromo. Best house sport ever. Nothing beats riding a bike indoors. If I had my way, I would never walk indoors again. Except when your roommate gets overly zealous when you slip on beer and runs into the kitchen to viciously kick you whilst laying in a puddle of aforementioned beer. I will get him back for that if it’s the last things I do.

5. Beer Pong National Championship on graduation weekend. Nicole and I putting down all challengers until reaching the finals against our European neighbors, and then losing in the championship match because our team was like the 1972 Dolphins and undefeated; it sucked…

4. The practice of playing Playstation Jeopardy to determine house chores for the week. Thank you Mom for making me read a lot when I was young.

3. Ceesco/Chloe fights. Who says things like “Ceesco, you cannot come to my tennis matches?” I mean really? Hilarious.

2. Double Decker Block parties. Ending the hash at Fillmore. Sitting in JW’s truck bed and listening to Barry Gunther launch a bomb to beat MSU. The Sun glittering through the trees on a fair afternoon in early May cannot be beat.

1.Matt Shroble yelling at the party across the street that their party sucked. Best put down ever. This one you had to be there for.

Okay, maybe it isn’t in numerical order in terms of greatest/least experiences, but it’s a fair cross section of day-to-day activities at Fillmore. What a place. I miss it.

“Over the years, the parties have gotten bigger and bigger, but the theme remains the same: glorious irresponsibility for the night.”
Richard Branson

Live Triumphantly

per ardua ad astra

Ah, Spring.

Far and away my favorite time of year has arrived in DC. The cherry blossoms are in bloom and the fresh sunshine and rain of the year is starting to break through the DC winter. It makes me reminiscent of spring in the South, especially in Oxford. While I always enjoyed football season to the maximum, had you asked me from which term did you derive greater enjoyment, I would have always told you it was the spring semester. From lazing out in right field at Swayze, to soaking up the sun at Sardis or at spring fraternity party weekends; it was by far more laid back than the fall. There is something special about this time of year. When all the trees begin budding again and flowers are blooming, one cannot help but be inspired by the rebirth of the natural world around us. This is starting to sound pretty far out there, so I had better stop with the hippie nature kid stuff and get on with it. I realize that I have not posted on here in some time. I wish I had a valid excuse, but I would be untruthful if I said that I did. Turning 25 was a strange time for me. I spent about 3 weeks in rebellion over my lost youth and irresponsibility. I think I did a pretty good job of going crazy again like I was still an undergraduate. I look forward to doing it all over again down in Oxford this coming weekend. One of the yearly events of Oxford, and one that if uniquely fitting to Spring, the time of renewal; Spring Football. Not to mention that LSWho will be in town for baseball, but spring practice/training is the one time of year that every team in the land can be optimistic about something heading in the season. I think that Coach Nutt will do well at Ole Miss, and I can’t wait to see how the squad looks, though I know enough by now not to put much emphasis into the proceedings of the "game". Another excuse to hang out in the Grove though is more than welcome. It appears likely that the only game that I will be able to attend next year will be the Arkansas game in Fayetteville. I have always enjoyed my times in Fayetteville.Dave and I used to take a trip up that way a couple times a year and I can truthfully say that it's a pretty cool city and the campus looks great, even to those of us who have been spoiled by Oxford.

I guess here is the short version of life in the past 6 weeks or so:

Costa Rica was beautiful still, was a great trip, and except for attempting to drown while drunk surfing one night, was relatively uneventful. Back to work for a couple weeks until birthday weekend, which was psychotic. I spent two nights in utter oblivion and Jacqueline threw me a party. I never really liked celebrating my own birthday as it was never a big deal to me. I think this one struck me since people made it seem like it was a big deal. A quarter century of life. What have I done with it? Have I earned it? Made it worthwhile? What more could I do? What could I have not done? I don’t like to question myself or my decisions for better or for worse. I hated feeling skeptically introspective. So screw it.

After the party night, Jacqueline and I went to Shamrock fest. It was a good time and I am rather sure that we saw Paul Oakenfold spin that night. We caught a ride home with some random guy who is now in my phone as “chauffeur” since he told me that anytime I needed a ride in that part of the city, he would “drop his shit and come pick me up”. Cool guy. A little strange but cool.

Haven’t been out to hash very much lately, but things have gotten very busy on those days. I am set to turn in my official petition to the Naval Lodge #4 of Freemasons next week. My grandmother told me that she was interested in coming up when I got elevated to the first degree. That means a lot to me. She is getting quite old and travel is becoming difficult. It makes me wish that I had been a little older when my grandfather died. I was still very young and he seemed like the coolest guy. He told me that me was a made a better father, brother, and husband because of what he learned through Freemasonry. Above all, he said that he was a better man. I want to be able to say those same things to my grandchildren.

After that I switched projects in work, which may be good as I may be getting promoted in the next few weeks. I started doing some yoga in addition to hitting the gym and running. It feels good to go every now and again, and I have to say that it is quite challenging. Tuesday Night Drinking Club is pretty much responsible for all of my troubles in life. I cannot come in at 4 on Wednesday mornings and expect to be of much use the next day. Our apartment is looking really nice. We recently added another bookcase and a dinette set. It feels strange to live so domestically, but its pretty nice as well. I cook us nice dinners with lots of veggies and we sit and listen to music while eating. Then we have dessert of fruit and yogurt usually and relax the rest of the night. I realize that it isn’t the most exciting thing to do, and especially not the coolest thing to write about, but I find myself amazed at this whole process that we undergo to grow up. Who says we have to be civilized to be successful? I got my last promo after the last trip to Oxford when we got in at 5:30am when I had the interview at 9:00am. I know that at some point, I will not be able to shoot from the hip when I go into important meetings and presentations, but will I ultimately have to fail to learn this? Probably. If there is one thing I have learned about myself, it’s that I will push until pushed back. I always coasted through school and rarely even bought my books for honors classes! Why would I do that? I have no explanation. I made decent grades and made sure that my education did not get in the way of my college experience. But now, as I think about going back to school this year, I realize that I never learned how to be a good student. I learned how to get away with a gross imbalance of work and play. I was supposed to take classes in history, culture, language, and political science and come away with a thorough understanding of regional historiographies. I might have the big picture, but by no means would I call it thorough. I drank Portuguese wine to get ready for my Portuguese language proficiency interview and God knows what happened to me before my Spanish exam. Yet, I passed. This is one thing that I think is frustrating about my college career. I excelled in very little, but performed averagely very often. I do not think myself average. But then again, if that is what I consistently submitted, how can I argue with the evidence?

Alright, that’s quite of enough berating myself today. I feel better. I just sometimes feel that although things are going very well for me right now, to what end I am traveling towards? Where am I going with all this? I moved to DC on a whim and have done nothing but roll 7’s since I arrived. At what point do I have to finally get serious?

Well this was nothing but serious ramblings. So I promise that for the next (and hopefully in the near future) installment, I will post the top quotes and strange experiences from O-town. Take care all.

Live triumphantly.

A look back in time and perspective...

Written January 2007

I arrived in Washington DC on August 28th, 2006 with two bags of clothes and not much else. Since then, I may as well have been living in a dream world. People ask me what brought me here, and the best answer that I can give them is that it was simply time to get a life. One of my favorite high school teachers would always ask me when this time would come, usually after admonishing me for violating some seemingly frivolous school policy. I graduated from Ole Miss in May of 2006, and basically spent the summer being a bum. I traveled extensively, but did not work, and was generally a hole in the pocket of my parents. I traveled through 13 countries in two months between Europe and South America.

It could be said that I had an exceptional time doing this, for I knew it would be the last such odyssey for quite a while, unless I was very lucky. After spending most of that year abroad, it is hard to quantify the number of changes that I have experienced. I got my first taste of reverse culture shock after returning from six months in Portugal. It was like time itself had stopped in Mississippi while the rest of the world kept turning like the perpetually undulating top that it is. While I had undergone serious changes in aspects such as attitude, culture, demeanor, maturity, and knowledge, it was business as usual in the Deep South. Graduation day seemed that it would never come, this day being in essence the first day of the rest of my life. I was excited. I don’t understand the perception that many of my youthful peers have about the so-called “real world”. There appears to be a palpable apprehension that accompanies thoughts of moving away from our perfect little self-centered existences in college. I did not share this fear. I do not think that anyone with a genuine love of new and unknown situations shares this feeling very much. I would offer commendation to anyone who absolutely knew that they were ready to take this next step into adulthood. Maybe that is part of the anxiety. The word “adult”. It conjures up images of our parents and our friends’ parents, our professors, more or less anyone that seems to already have things figured out. I think there is the idea that once we enter this world, we are automatically expected to know who we are and where we are going. The truth is that many people twice our age still haven’t quite figured everything out. We also come to realize that we don’t really know all that much. That nice, bright diploma is supposed to be validation that we have been educated, but all that it really proves is that we were able to balance work-time and playtime to a satisfactory degree in what, for many of us, was our first real step away from home and where we grew up. What we must realize is that we have the entire world at our fingertips. Never before in the history of the world has so much been available to those of us who are so young. We should all feel so very lucky to be alive at this time and place in history. The possibilities are limitless. I have been told by friends in high school, college, and then beyond that in each separate instance, that these are the best years of our lives. I hope not. I hope that I can never say with any kind of certainly when my best years occurred. To this end, we must constantly strive to better ourselves. The world will not wait while we catch up every now and again. Every day is a golden opportunity to exceed what we have done the day before. It is easy to sow comfortable patterns of existence, but that is exactly what we will reap; existence. There is a vast difference between existing and living. Many things that exist have certainly never lived. To ensure that we are always evolving within ourselves, we have to be constantly challenged to reach new heights. One of my favorite quotes drives this home: “We improve ourselves by victories over ourself. There must be contests, and you must win.” Edward Gibbon

If we are not going forward, we are moving backwards; there is no middle ground. To lie fallow, to let life happen all around you, is to slowly die. This is a great tragedy. Don’t get me wrong, my life is not all about constant self improvement in one of numerous ways to go about this; I like video games as much as your average 24 year old male. Everyone has to have moments of downtime, when we are able to let our guard down. If we did not, then we would all go crazy much earlier than is advisable.

On January 1st 2006, I wrote that I would have hell of time topping last year (2005), and the truth is; I did. Graduating, finishing my internship at the DA’s office, traveling, meeting more amazing people, and then moving to DC are just a few of the highlights. Things like having a Dutch friend visit here in the U.S., dating an old high school crush, seeing two of my best mates get married, traveling (mostly) alone through a dozen countries in western Europe, thanking my grandmother on her 85th birthday for passing down good genetics to me, going to Chile with my brother for a few weeks, ingratiating myself into the DC hashing community, drinking wine on the West lawn of the capitol building while watching the national symphony play their end of the summer concert, training for my first marathon, watching a play in Ford’s theater, watching the Saints have a good season, meeting a wonderful young lady from Ohio to spend time with, working on Capitol Hill, finding higher paying employment off the hill, joining various sports club teams, watching an air show from the balcony of the Speaker of the House, watching the Christmas tree lighting at the Capitol, having lunch with the Congressmen I worked for, going to the biggest college football game of the year outside the BCS, and being lost numerous times and just figuring it out; all these things have been wonderful in their own little ways. It has been a learning and a growing experience. I had only been here four months. If all this can happen within a third of a year, I can only expect things to only get bigger and better from here.

Back to Costa Rica

In two days, I make my glorious return to Costa Rica. The summer that I visited occupies a special place in my heart. I had just finished spending two weeks in the California desert doing CAX. I was mainly dirty and hot during the entire two weeks, but the nights I spent under the cool desert sky left me with memories among the beautiful of skies that I have ever seen. I would awaken to the padding feet of coyotes as they ran by my cot at night. After spending long, hot days in the sun, the cool, dry air after sundown was one of the happiest times of the day. After leaving the desert, I spend a few days at home before embarking on the second part of the summer. Since my flight was delayed in getting into Houston, I had missed my flight to San Jose, and would be hanging out in H-town for about 10 hours or so until the next flight came. Luckily for me, I had some dear friends in Houston that had no trouble picking me up and entertaining me for the next few hours. I got into San Jose later that night, where wouldn’t you know it; but I ran into Chrissy Gilder in the airport…Small world indeed.

I was to spend half the summer with a group from the University of North Carolina for the duration of my stay in Costa Rica. I was staying with a family in the vicinity of San Pedro. My family proved to be extremely nice and my home-stay mother was very patient with me and we tended to have long discussions about my classes and the general state of things in the country while we listened to Led Zeppelin in the evenings. The group was fantastic and made up of very interesting people. We took morning trips almost every day and spent our afternoon hours in class. Andrew, Vinnie, and I found a local bar the first or second night we were there called Las Tuquitas, which roughly translated to “fire logs” if I am not mistaken. We started off almost every night there afterwards. It was a local dive at best, but after a couple weeks there, we were as accepted as regulars who had been patrons for years. I made many good friendships and acquaintances there, though I am sad to say that I have not maintained contact with anyone from the place.

Several of our weekend trips were fantastic as well. Our first major trip was to a resort called Tabacon, an area rich in hot springs nestled at the foot of the volcano Arenal. Arenal is noteworthy in that it is a very active volcano, and that most nights you can see lava flowing down the side of the mountain. One of my most memorable experiences in the country was sitting in the hot springs one night, having a drink while watching the lava floes and monkeys playing in the trees above me. It was a first time for a lot of things for me at that moment, and it will thus likely remain a fond memory until the day I die.

The next weekend was spent at the Marriott Los Suenos, a fantastic Pacific ocean hotel near the surfing town of Jaco. In the back, it had a maze of freshwater pools and canals that were interconnected throughout the whole complex. I drank entirely too much rum that weekend, and was a general mess. A side note to that was a great memory of the summer was in leaving the place. I began reading the Rama series by Arthur C. Clarke at the beginning of the summer, and now, six weeks in, I had finished the four book series; a total of about 2,500 pages of material crossing vast distances in time and location. It was a wonderful series and I would recommend it to anyone who has a love of any kind of science fiction. I remember closing the back cover of the final chapter and exhaling like I had been holding my breath. I felt complete and yet lonely. I had grown to truly love those characters and identify with the story; akin to the feeling when finishing the Harry Potter books, except with more closure…

The following weekend was an adventure. Andrew and I were determined to take a trip from the depths of insanity. After deciding against going to Cuba at the last minute, we rented a car and drove down the Pacific coast of the country, stopping at the beach towns along the way. We knew people in some towns, and met new people in others. It was a generally grand weekend with exceptions like having a gun pulled on us by a security guard, sleeping in the car one night, and having to navigate washed out roads and one lane bridges…What was great though was that it gave us a perfect opportunity to get outside some of the most traveled roads and see some other parts of the countryside. It was awe inspiring to drive up rain forested mountains via winding and motion sickness inducing roads; motoring past glamorous villas and coffee plantations sprawling across the hillsides.

In the end however, my fondest memories are of those with whom I shared these experiences with. From two gorgeous Tican strippers gyrating all over my (gay) friend Andrew, to running into Katie Manchester while waiting for drink in a small bar near the University; there were strange and great and confusing times nearly every day. I shall never forget those people and times during that great part of the summer. I have some magnificent stories and pictures from those weeks spent in Central America. Even so, I am excited to return to such an enchanting nation farther along in life.

Live triumphantly.

To Do List for 2008

Run 1,000 miles in one year
Read 40 books
Begin graduate studies
Learn to surf
Attend an Opera
Learn to Salsa Dance
Begin seriously investing
Begin a blog
Earn first degree in Freemasonry
Be a mascot for a major sports team
Run a 10K in less than 40 minutes
Get back in the weight room

A re-posting of the end of year email to everyone...

Dear Family, Friends, and Families of Friends,

Happy Holidays from Washington, DC!

I hope the coming year brings tidings of joy and the fulfillment of hopes and dreams.

Without further adieu, here is a brief rundown of my year.

For the first time in recent history, I did not leave the country at all this past year. I moved to DC in late August of 2006, exactly one year from when I arrived in Portugal. It seemed strange to me that I should launch such formative experiences on the same day, exactly one year removed from the other.
After hopping around a few jobs, I have finally found a good place with the Boeing Company. I am beginning a new project with a team whose mission is to win contracts for border protection technology. I am planning on going back to school for an MBA (Masters of Business Administration for you Euro types) and should begin that program sometime next year.

I was only in DC for about a month when I met a wonderful young lady from Ohio. In late April, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. In the beginning, I didn’t take the illness as seriously as I should have.

However, within a couple weeks though, I learned that only about 2% of pancreatic cancer patients survive within a 5 year period. It was sobering and frightening news to say the least. Jacqueline began chemotherapy treatments in May, and they continued until August when they informed her that the cancer had been eradicated. I was ecstatic, although it was difficult to shake the feeling that we had dodged a bullet. To all of those who knew, thank you so very much for your thoughts and prayers. Sadly, by now most of us have known someone around our age who has succumbed to the scourge of cancer. She is one of the most amazing women I have ever met. She is now doing quite well, though her immune system is still in a state of shock, so we have to take care not to get sick at all, as it will affect her much more so. All things considered, we are all so lucky, and I love her very much.

It has been an eventful year to say the least, but in truth it is only scratching the surface. At the beginning of each year, I create a list of goals to accomplish, and I can happily report that I have satisfied most of these goals. I have run two marathons, involving many more miles in training (not fun). I have jumped out of plane, learned to juggle, met an Iron Chef, wielded a jackhammer, batted .900 for a softball season, worked on Capitol Hill, and applied to the Freemasons. Jacqueline and I have been involved with our running club and even joined a book club. I learned to snowboard in February and even managed not to (seriously) hurt myself in the process. As for my family, my father is enjoying retirement, my mother accepted a job with the Alabama state department of education and is enjoying her work immensely, and my brother purchased a condo in Daphne and is doing very well.

As I look back on the year, I notice that the most unsettling and yet the most satisfying aspect of all of this is that I am growing up. When we are young, we always say “When I grow, I’m going to…” Those seemingly far away times have arrived at our doorsteps. While we move out and up, securing jobs, houses and apartments, meeting new friends, contacts, and significant others; we must never forget that life cannot get in the way of living.

I have always believed in living in the now. This year, I received a very poignant reminder of that belief.
Now is the time to travel to that place you have always wanted to go. Now is the time to learn to play the tuba. Now is the time to be on that game show you always watched. Now is the time to vie for that promotion. Now is the time to reach for whatever it is that your heart desires. Why? Because none of us really know when that time is set to run out.

As for the near future, I am going back to Costa Rica with Jacqueline’s family in February. We are planning to live together in this next year in a very nice neighborhood in DC. We are then aspiring to make it to Spain for the Fiesta de San Fermin. I have always wanted to do the Running of the Bulls, so why not now? We will then head to Brittany, France to hopefully watch some of the opening stages of the Tour de France. I will update all of my European friends on the status of this trip as time approaches. Truthfully, this year will probably not work out for the Spain/Bulls trip, but its always good to dream and keep goals in mind.

In closing, I wish everyone the best of life, luck, and love in the coming year. I hope to hear from all of you and learn what is going on in your lives, as I am interested to know. It’s going to be a great year.

Best wishes in all of life’s pursuits,

Danny

Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man.
~Benjamin Franklin

Spirit of the Marathon

Last night, Jacqueline and I went to see the "Spirit of the Marathon" a documentary that follows runners participating the Chicago Marathon in 2005. One of the most interesting aspects is that is follows all subsets of runners involved. It followed a single mother running her first marathon, repeat marathoners trying to qualify for Boston, those running for a cause, all the way up to the elite runners in the world. I came away pleasantly surprised at the film. In no way, however, did it inspire me to run another. I ran my two marathons last year, and I have no intention of doing it ever again. That being said, there was a line in the movie that struck me

"People run marathons to prove to themselves that there is still triumph and possibility in their lives."

Such a profound statement got me thinking...What a wonderful way to sum up why someone would want to do that to themselves. Let's break down the statement. Possibility. I think many people forget that at the beginning of each day, there is nearly unlimited possibility and opportunity. We all forget this sometimes. The truth of the matter is that every day we wake up provides the perfect forum to better ourselves and impact the world around us. It is a powerful feeling to change your thinking in this way. It reminds me of a quote from Ellen Goodman.

"We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives... not looking for flaws, but for potential."

Triumph. Here are the first three entries according to the dictionary:

1. the act, fact, or condition of being victorious or triumphant; victory; conquest.
2. a significant success or noteworthy achievement; instance or occasion of victory.
3. exultation resulting from victory; joy over success.

Triumph is one of those words that can elicit powerful feelings. It feels good to win, but how much better does it feel to triumph, to be triumphant?!? It got me thinking about a new way to perceive things, a new outlook, a fresh catch phrase perhaps...I will put it at the bottom of this post. Let me know what you think. In closing here is another of my favorite quotes about potential.

"It seems to me that people have vast potential. Most people can do extraordinary things if they have the confidence or take the risks. Yet most people don't. They sit in front of the telly and treat life as if it goes on forever." - Philip Adams

Have a great weekend everyone.

Live Triumphantly.

Without form and (thus) void

Good afternoon Blogosphere.

I shall attempt to post with something resembling regularity about life here in our nation's capitol for me. This will include rants, raves, musings, meandering streams of consciousness, babbling brooks of verbosity, ideas for television commercial ads, thoughts of sporting events, political rhetoric, journal entries from various world travels, haikus, and drafts for the motivational speaking classes I plan to give after moving out of the van by the river.

Salaam alaykum.