Surfing

What came to mind when you read the post title, Surfing? I think for most people it would be one of a limited number of things: the sport in the water, where waves and sharks are your biggest challenges; couches, where your friends and relatives can end up when they're between residences or relationships; the Web, where anonymity and trolls are among the biggest pitfalls; and the TV, before which people across the land relax to forget their troubles for a while...or learn about new ones.

All are valid, and I'm betting there are a few more that haven't crossed my mind.

For me, however, in the last eight months or so, surfing has meant something else entirely: I've been a Refrigerator Surfer.

Sometime last December, my refrigerator died. Overnight it shut down and by the time I realized what had happened late the next morning, every single perishable thing in it had defrosted or gone bad. It was a mess. Everything had to go and I was faced with the daunting cost of buying a new fridge or calling in a repair person who would likely charge me to tell me it was not worth fixing because of its age. Neither prospect was appealing.

So, me being me, I did nothing. Everything was gone, there was no rush to decide what to do and I really, really didn't feel I could spare the money to replace it. Time went by, a month, two months and it really wasn't all that difficult. Yes, I missed milk and ice cubes -- I really, REALLY missed ice cubes -- but apart from that, it wasn't too bad. I had butter and I had eggs, which really don't need to be as refrigerated as we've been conditioned to believe, and everything else was either shelf stable or I didn't have it.

The biggest challenge, apart from the aforementioned ice cubes, was leftovers. I've changed my eating habits and I very often eat only half a meal when I dine out. With my budget being tight, I wasn't about to start throwing away what could well be a whole other meal for myself! So I started fridge surfing, borrowing space in the fridges of friends and family, for short periods of time. Well, short periods of time except for my brother's fridge, because I decided being family gave me the right to keep things in there just a little bit longer. Have you seen my brother's fridge? Much of the time it looks something like this:

It was just begging for more actual food in it! And who am I to deny a beautiful fridge like that anything? In return, it kept me in ice and cold water every couple of days. A beautiful, symbiotic relationship, as far as I was concerned. I'm anticipating that B²W³ (that's "the Best Brother in the Whole Wide World" for those of you who may be new to my blog) just might have a slightly different take on it, but that's what the comments are for, right?

I digress, however. My groceries, leftovers, treats and I became a traveling exhibit, moving from store/restaurant to one fridge to another as needed for months on end. I've "borrowed" ice from more freezers that you can shake a stick at in that time, too. A lot of people thought I was nuts, to varying degrees, and if I had a dollar for every time I heard, "I could never do that!" or "How on earth do you manage?" I'd probably have had enough to buy that new fridge.

But it worked pretty well for me overall, I have to say. Not only did I not spend money I couldn't spare on a new fridge, I wasn't filling it with food that all too often went bad before I could use it, I didn't have any ice cream in the house to tempt me, and my electricity bill was the lowest it has ever been. In the back of my mind, though, I knew that it was a temporary thing. I just knew that somehow, some way, I was going to get a fridge that wouldn't cost me much, if anything, and this personal experiment would be over.

Today is that day. Tonight I plugged in my brand new, used refrigerator that came to me for absolutely nothing through a friend, Freecycling at its best. It has been sitting in my kitchen for a week, waiting for me to start using it, once I got it all cleaned up. But I wasn't ready quite yet. I found I wasn't eager to jump right back into the regular world of refrigeration and give up my surfing days. I needed a reason, a push, an impetus.

Tonight I came home from an evening out with a leftover box, no desire to go find a fridge for it and not wanting it to go to waste. So I plugged my new friend in, listened to her hum, then filled her with everything I had available to me, which, admittedly, wasn't much.

It's only fair that I present to you, in the finest tradition of my family, my new used fridge, ready for action and the cleanest it will probably ever be from this day forward:

As soon as those bottle are actually chilled, let's have a toast, shall we?

A New Leaf

I honestly didn't mean to let all of December get away from me without a post. I even started to write one on New Year's Eve and Murphy's Law bit me in the ass for being a procrastinator and I had computer problems that made it impossible.

I haven't done much better with January, obviously, but I'll be damned if I don't live up to my own promise to myself to get one post in before the month is out, even if I did manage to completely miss my own blogoversary on the 22nd. Unlike me, to be sure, but I've had a lot going on.

I don't exactly have a theme for the year yet, unlike the last two "Year of" ones, but we'll see how it progresses as I'm still playing around with a couple. But, big changes this year in my life. Clearly, last year was one of massive change, however I think it's what we do with ourselves after times like those that really define who we are and what we can be. I've decided to try to turn that change into as much of a positive as I can.

I came to realize toward the end of last year that I wasn't going to find a job that suited me, who I am and where I am right now in my life, in any meaningful way. So, because I have the time and opportunity to do something I've always wanted to do, I've launched my own business. As breathtaking as it is sometimes for me to say that out loud, it's what I've done and I'm going to make of it what I can.

It's a personal concierge service, which seems to be as challenging for people to grasp as it is for them to spell. (I'll admit, even I stumble over the spelling occasionally, after a lifetime of "i before e except after c" recitation.) Essentially, I am combination of personal assistant and errand runner for people. I can do for people what they're too busy to do during their workday or that would take them away from family time; anything from picking out gifts to dry cleaning pick-up, or pet sitting to sitting there waiting for the cable guy. It's kind of something I've been training for my whole life so it comes as second nature to me. Whether I can make a living from it remains to be seen!

Now, ideally, this would be where I'd direct you to my website so you could see exactly what I've put together and send excited recommendations to all the busy people and over-booked parents you know in the Bay Area. But. But, I haven't quite got that part done just yet, so we'll save that for (hopefully) next time. I need to finish reaching out to my network of Internet-savvy friends to get those last few pieces in place, but I couldn't wait any longer to share my news, since it's been bubbling along all month and it's happening, it's really happening.

If you have any specific questions about it all that go beyond something you'd want to put in a comment, feel free to email me, using either the "email me" link above or sending something directly to my Gmail address, if you have it.

Otherwise, I hope you'll peek in from time to time to see how things are progressing and whether I have any good stories to share as I'm out there in the "trenches" of Silicon Valley, on the other side of the commute lane.

An Order of Birthday, Happy on the Side

I thought about calling this "An Order of Birthday, Hold the Happy," but I decided that wasn't really accurate or honest. I don't want to hold the happy, I'm trying to embrace the happy. It's just that it's not front and center for the the first time on my birthday.

Birthdays have always been a big thing in my family, something I've probably written a few times here on this day in the past. But celebrating one without my mom here just seems...incomprehensible. There's not much more I can say about it than that.

I'll be spending the day, and Thanksgiving, with my now-smaller family and I'm grateful for that, just as I'm grateful for all the kind wishes that I'll receive from my friends. I just don't know if I'll be able to get through the day without bursting into tears and thinking, "She should be here. She should be here. She should be here."

The fact that I'm fighting to keep my dinner down right now tells me that I'm going to have to leave it at that. For those of you who are all about honesty and being real and revealing yourself on your blog, there's nothing more honest or real or personal I've ever written than that.

A Eulogy

My mother, Betty Ann, died on August 26th of this year after a long period of being in and out of hospitals and nursing homes. What follows is a modified version of the eulogy I delivered at her funeral service. It's modified because my eulogy followed my brother's, and it wouldn't have entirely made sense the way it was, as I made reference to a few things he said. He declined to become my first guest poster, and I can't blame him for that. (Except that it was really good.) Obviously, I wrote this at the time, but it has taken me this long to be able to edit and post it. I am, to put it gently, adrift. I miss my mom more than any words I can scribble down will ever capture.

The last few days have been filled with more laughter than you might imagine. My family is not a somber group and while there has been reminiscing and missing going on, there is still life, humor and joy. I'd like to think that Mom would appreciate that.

Though it might sound trite and somewhat underwhelming, to know my mom was to like her. But being universally well-liked is actually a rather impressive thing. Not that many people really pull it off while being genuine. Mom was. She was certainly a lot more likeable than I am, but I could never quite figure out what her secret was. Maybe I wasn't supposed to; everyone has their strengths and that was hers, not mine. And her strengths were often extraordinary.

This year was really rough for Mom, health-wise. I know there were times when she felt like it was all a little too much. She kept tackling each problem, though, even when she might not fully have wanted to press on with yet another procedure. But she did want to, for us, and we were there with her at each step, trying to keep her spirits up and keep her laughing, too.

She and I spent a lot of time together in the last twelve months, even more than normal, and I am thankful that was the case. Until she went into the hospital, we had developed a pattern of going out one day, getting the medical stuff out of the way and then enjoying the day with as much fun as possible; eating out, running errands, going to the library, getting a favorite treat here or there and, most importantly, shopping. Then we'd spend a few days at home, cooking when we were up to it, perusing cookbooks when we weren't, doing the crossword in the paper, reading, watching her favorite shows and, most importantly, shopping. On TV. My cousin Michael asked the other day if my mom and I had stock in QVC. He came across a stack of invoices and drew a logical, if smart-alecky, conclusion. (I send my apologies to QVC for the dip in their profits over the last few months, and I promise to honor my mom by making up for it as soon as possible.) But really, being able to shop that way and keep up to date with what was going on was important to her, and helped her feel less restricted that she might have otherwise. In many ways, our living situation may have resembled The Odd Couple more than Gilmore Girls but somehow it worked for us and we were friends as well as mother/daughter housemates.

For me, there was always a lot to admire about my mom. She raised two kids, mostly on her own, to be independent, self-sufficient and unafraid, which is quite an accomplishment given that she had a lot of fears of her own. But for the most part, she didn't let her fears hold us back. She supported us even if she didn't completely agree with or get what we chose to do, which is a lot more than many kids can expect from their parents. She trusted us to blaze our own path. She just reminded us to be careful at every turn.

Mom reminded us about a lot of things. She was the one who kept the memories for us and was our touchstone of family and history, as well as right from wrong. Whereas my brother, Sean, hears her voice in his head when making decisions, for me it was more a matter of just following her example to where it became a part of my thought process; my fearlessness tempered with her caution, my adventurousness balanced by her practicality, my impatience mitigated by her reasonableness, my procrastination...curbed...well, no, I guess there was no accounting for that. Suffice it to say that she softened my harder edges and I provided the encouragement for her to push past her reluctance to try new things. In that, we made a good team and, with Sean, an even better, closer family.

I will miss you, Mom. But I will always be grateful for everything you taught us, told us, showed us, put up with, laughed over and, more than anything, for the way you loved us.

How To Lose a Limb: A Cautionary Tale

As I write this, I'm sitting in the hospital, next to my mother's bed. She has dozed off but I can tell after many, many hours of watching her sleep that she's only sleeping lightly and can be wakened with little effort. She has become a champion sleeper during her time in the hospital (then the skilled nursing facility, then the hospital once again); you have to be to get any rest with all the noise and interruptions a hospital brings. I've seen her sleep through blood draws. It's really quite impressive.

I just wish this were a skill she hadn't had to develop. She's tired of being in the hospital. She's tired of the needle pokes, vitals checks, blood sugar tests, IV flushes, bed repositionings, med distributions, ultrasounds, procedures, catheter adjustments, blood transfusions, nursing shift changes, doctor drop-ins and, of course, hospital food. I'm tired of all these things for her, too, because it's hard to watch her endure them day in and day out. (Although I think the food is better than she does.)

And we're not done yet. I've been hesitant to detail exactly what has been going on with her for a couple reasons. 1) I wasn't ready for all the questions; sometimes I don't do well when a lot of questions are thrown my way. After a while, I start to get defensive -- it's a personality flaw I'm aware of and it's one I'm trying to get past. So bring on any questions. If it doesn't violate her privacy, I'll do my best to answer it. 2) Then there is, you guessed it, her privacy. If you've been reading here for any time at all, you may have realized that I don't talk about super-personal things here. I don't fault bloggers who do use their spaces in that way, it just wasn't ever what it was about for me. I figured that if I don't talk about my own personal health issues here for the most part, how could I talk about hers? But her health issues are about to change my and my entire family's life in significant and unavoidable ways. Now that this time is here -- it has always been in the offing, but we've been keeping it at bay best we could -- it's now part of my life and this blog has always been about my life, in one way or another. So it's relevant and it's what I need to write about. 3) It wasn't certain what was going to happen. She has a lot of medical concerns and it wasn't clear which one was going to "get" her first. I think perhaps I felt like not defining things here kept them nebulous enough to avoid dwelling on them. Does that constitute denial? I'm not sure.

As I alluded to in my last post, Round 2 is here and it's time to take it on. My mom has had Type II diabetes for decades. This has caused a myriad of medical problems for her, especially over the last decade. The most problematic has been her circulation, especially in her legs, and she has had: two femoral bypasses, one in each leg; surgery on her carotid artery to unblock it; two heart catherterizations that have resulted in multiple stents being put in her heart; multiple laser eye surgeries to stop bleeding in her retina; the onset of congestive heart failure; foot ulcers and dry gangrene; and the amputation of four of the toes on her left foot. She has also been on the brink of kidney failure for about a year, which has required blood tests every two weeks for that time, and we know that dialysis is almost certainly in her future. Another round for another day...or year.

She has come through each of these things, some more easily than others, with a lot of effort, a lot of love, a lot of tears, a lot of pain and a lot of time. It does get harder each time, however, and though each was serious unto itself, life always went back to normal eventually. That's not going to happen this time.

Tomorrow morning my mom's right leg will be amputated above the knee and she will likely never walk again. Because of her age and weakened condition, she may not be able to get or adapt to a prosthesis, so we anticipate that she will be in a wheelchair from here on out. I hope that it will be one she can move herself, but she has little upper body strength so I am not sure that will be possible. (An electric one is, of course, an option but she has an aversion to them and they're a little too big to use in her condo.) I am her primary caretaker and while she has been the center of my life for the last year, this surgery will probably double the effort required to do pretty much anything and everything.

I will do the best I can, with a lot of help, but there's no doubt that it's going to be overwhelming at times, for all of us. My mom's biggest concern, as I imagine it is for most parents in this kind of situation, is that she is going to be a burden to us. I can't say absolutely that, at times, it won't be a burden; I think in part it depends on how you define "burden." I don't approach it as a burden, but I know that it is weighing on her mind so heavily that I worry it can affect her ability to recover and rehabilitate and I know that it is life-changing. The emotional part of it has been, and will be, very hard. But, to me, that's part of family. It just is.

Another part of family is knowing the best and worst parts of your family members, and how who they are affects who you become. Case in point: I know that my mom has always put us first, to the detriment of her own health. She was told in the mid-70s that her blood sugar was high and that she should just cut out sugary soda and other foods. This was right before we moved from California back east to New York and our lives were turned completely upside-down. We all switched to diet soda and kept right on going, trying to make the best out of some crappy circumstances for the duration of the 80s. Mom made sacrifices for us and was always there for us, working full time and taking care of us and the house, while putting up with two kids and a husband who had a boatload of his own problems. She dealt with money issues, worked day in and day out until retirement, got us both through college, became a widow, took in her two elderly aunts and nursed one through the ovarian cancer that eventually killed her, helped us move back to California (each of us moved out here at different times), packed up a huge house and sold it, and moved to California, too.

During most of that time, she ran on stress and adrenaline and didn't take great care of herself. She was too busy taking care of us to dwell on how she was feeling. I come from a family of stoics, and she learned those lessons well. Too well. In the late 80s/early 90s she was diagnosed with Type II diabetes and had to make significant dietary changes and start taking medicine. But really, it was too late and the damage had already started to impact her health.

The consequences of not addressing her own well-being in favor of taking care of her family for all those years led us in a straight line to today, on the brink of major surgery that has her worried about how she will live the rest of her life and how it affects her children. It's this last part that has me shaking my head over the irony of the situation; this is far worse than if she had said no, we can't do that because I need a break, or you're going to have to skip that birthday party because I need to attend a class on nutrition, or I'm not going to be able to take you to the mall because I need to work out for hour or two. We would have been okay, if disappointed at that time -- or, okay, as teens we would have been devastated...for all of an hour -- but we also would have been better off for seeing our mom make her own mental and physical health a priority. This fear, this worry, this emotional draining now is so much harder than it might have otherwise been if she had said "no" to us and "yes" to herself just a little more often. I think it's this part that is more of a burden than any difficulty we will face as she learns to transition from a wheelchair into a bed: She loved us more than she loved herself and now she's paying a steep price for it.

Now it's time to go wake her up so she can have a last few drinks of water before it turns midnight and she's not allowed anything to eat or drink, pre-op. Tomorrow will be another stressful and emotional day. We'll get through it together, barring any of the many complications that could arise, and we'll be back here tomorrow night, with me watching her sleep and wondering about how the next day will go.

Making Progress

I've been taking my list of goals for the year seriously and I'm trying to be mindful of the items on it, in order to look for opportunities to advance them. (I think blogging three times this week -- so far -- is a fine example of that!) I realized that my blog anniversary is coming up, and it would be nice to have made progress on my "Get a new blog design" goal before then.

Last night I decided to take the plunge and made major changes to the layout. I figured that if I pay someone to do a full-blown re-design, I'll have to upgrade it on Blogger in any case, so might as well do that. I've been cobbling together bits and pieces of HTML on the original layout to keep things afloat for a couple years and it just gets harder and harder to make it what I want. That is simply not where my talents lie.

As you can see, if you've ever been here before, things look seriously different. I realize that it's not great just yet, there are still a lot of things that need to be tweaked. I'd let you tell me what you like or don't like, but the biggest problem I've encountered is that my comment function is not working with the new template. I'm sure it's an easy fix, but I haven't been able to puzzle it out on my own. I'm getting some help with it, but people have been coming to visit today and I wanted to thank you and apologize for not having comments working.

Because of this, I've added something now that I'd planned to add later: A link to me on Twitter. I've resisted doing that for a long time, but the reasons for doing so seem less relevant to me now. Twitter has become a huge part of my life and I want to integrate it into my blog. Over there to the right is a rather clunky-looking widget, which I hope to improve on, that will take you to my Twitter page. If you're not already following me there, I hope you'll come by and say hey. If you are, please feel free to leave your feedback there until I get the comments up and running. Because, let's face it, tweets are great but there's nothing to equal a comment left with a post.

So, technically, I've met the challenge of my goal because this definitely constitutes a "new blog design." But I'm not ready to cross it off because it's not the final version and it doesn't meet the spirit of the goal. So let's consider it to be struck through with a dotted line for the time being. I'll keep updating the progress over there in the Welcome message and I hope you'll come back to watch as things develop.

***UPDATE: For the moment, it's essentially back to the old template. But the header and comments are back up. (Thank you Emma!) But the Welcome message I mentioned is gone. This will be a work in progress. Thanks for your patience.***

A Story About Toy Story

I've been struggling to come up with something that I'm willing to write about. Oh, there's plenty I'd like to write about, but I don't feel like this is the place. It just isn't, for me, beyond a certain point.

My life has, in some ways, changed so incredibly much in the last few months; in other ways, it's exactly the same, which can be its own problem. I'm not working for the first time in longer than I can remember. I'm grateful that I have the luxury of not feeling unbearable pressure to get back out there, though I am looking. There are other aspects, of course, but right about there is where I stop being interested in writing about it.

That doesn't make for much of a post, so you can see my dilemma. Finally today, however, I did something that made me feel like writing so I figured I'd get all that out of the way and move on with something other than just my football picks.

I never used to like 3D movies. The glasses were ridiculous, didn't really work half the time and the effect was never as good as it promised to be. But prior to last year, it had probably been decades since I'd seen a whole movie in 3D. I went to see Coraline while it was out in 3D and, while I liked-but-didn't-love the movie itself, I was pretty impressed with how much better the 3D effect was.

That made me more inclined to go see Up, which I enjoyed so much, and I was once again pleased with the improvement to 3D technology. After a while, I even forgot that I was wearing the glasses and that's really saying something in my book. Well, I forgot about them until I had to reach up and wipe the tears away, but that's not terribly relevant, now is it?

One of the previews at Up was for a double feature of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 in 3D. It had been years since I'd seen them and I thought it would be interesting to see them again, both because of the 3D thing and to familiarize myself with them anew, as I'd heard that Toy Story 3 was in the works. (It is.) No one else I asked was inclined to go so I decided today that I'd go by myself, as they're advertising it as being in theaters for only two weeks. (I'm guessing that it will likely be extended if it's making money, but I didn't want to take the chance.)

I always experience trepidation about going to see what's considered to be a "kid movie" because I really dislike having the movie disrupted by noise. Now, the parents who read this could be bothered/offended by that statement. What I usually hear at this point is, "But it's a kid's movie, you have to expect kids and kid noise." I get that, I really do. And let me make it clear, I love kids and I love that they enjoy movies. But I also think there's a lack of accountability on the part of SOME parents -- some, not all, probably not you, but you can't deny some -- who take kids who are too young or too antsy to make it through a feature-length film. I also get the reasons for this. They are influenced by ads and by merchandising and beg to go, even if they're not ready for outside-the-home moviewatching; the older kids want to go but they're certainly not old enough to go alone, so you have to go with them and can't leave the younger one(s) out; it's cheaper to take kids to a movie than to get a sitter; it's a kid's movie, why shouldn't you take them, everyone else's kids will be making noise. I'm sure there are others.

My problem is that I had to pay to go see it, too. If a kid chatters and questions and exclaims throughout it, I'm not able to enjoy it.* I've been told to "just ignore it;" if I could, I would. But I can't and I have little recourse if it's a "kid's movie." I can't say anything because it's a kid. I'm supposed to be OK with it, no matter what. I really don't want to be the jerk. But when exactly can I go see it when there won't be any kids? Never -- there doesn't seem to be any time that some people won't take their kids to a movie. And, much as I wish there were, there aren't any "adult theaters" that don't instantly mean X-rated films, at least not around here. (I know some exist that are more like a dinner theater where they serve food and alcohol, and I imagine kids aren't allowed, but I've never been to one and they certainly don't have any near me.) So do I have to miss the fun of seeing a movie in the theater? Do I just have to wait until it comes out on DVD? No. I don't buy that, sorry.

So, for me, going to an animated movie is a crap shoot. There are times when it's absolutely fine and the kids there are practically angels or, if they're not, the parent takes them out until they can calm down (and I really wish that all theaters had a room where they could take them so that they could both see and hear while the soothing is going on, because I feel bad that the parent has to lose the thread of the movie) and we all enjoy ourselves. Then there are times when I feel like tearing my hair out, but I sit there and take it and stew, and any enjoyment is ruined.

Today, since I was going alone, I decided to ask for one of the assisted listening devices. I traded in my driver license and got a headset to wear. I figured I'd give this a shot, because I thought maybe it would help in case there were some kids for whom a double feature was just too long. So, there I sat, looking quite the fool with both the 3D glasses and the headset with the little flashing red light. (I purposely didn't look too closely at the headset; while I know they sanitize the glasses before they're re-used, I'm willing to bet money that they don't do anything of the sort for the headsets and goodness only knows how many other heads mine sat on. For the sake of a peaceful experience for everyone, I ignored that thought.)

And guess what? It worked pretty well. There was some buzzing that was especially bothersome during the quiet parts (I just turned them down for a few moments), they died out a couple times (I fiddled with them until they came back) and by the end of the first film my ears hurt a little from the pressure (I took them off for a little while and took off my earrings), but overall it was a pretty good solution. I could hear that there was noise from time to time, but it became peripheral and didn't prevent me from hearing the dialog, so I didn't mind. It's not a perfect fix, but it's a decent one that I'll use again.

Oh, and the movies? They were just as good as the first time, enhanced by the 3D, and I was surprised at how much of both of them I had actually forgotten over the years. I suggest you go if you have the chance. With or without the kids.

* For any movie, if some inconsiderate jerk talks, has a ringing phone, kicks my seat repeatedly or -- my favorite -- sits there and translates the movie for someone with them...the entire thing...it's a problem. But if it's a teen or adult, I do have recourse, and I'll take it. I'll speak up or move or get an attendant or just leave and ask for my money back, depending on the severity. Movies that are designed to appeal to kids are a different matter. And I'm not expecting perfect silence; I'm not an idiot, that's unreasonable. I'm not talking here about "normal" movie-viewing noise. I'm talking repeated or non-stop disruption, in case that wasn't clear.

Reduction in Force - Increase in Office Supplies

Crossroads

I didn't really intend to have a month plus go by between posts. I've had ideas and started a few times, but haven't quite gotten there. In the month before a bloggers' conference, I really should get some new material up.

But.

Crossroads. I'm at one. A big one. And it has me feeling both liberated and tied up in knots.

If you've been reading here for any length of time, you're likely aware that I never talk about work in this space except in the most general of terms. I believe that, unless you're totally anonymous, it's just not a good idea; even if you are anonymous, it's risky.

But.

I recently found out that I'm being laid off. It is...an adjustment. I've never been in this position before and it comes at an interesting time for me. My mind is constantly occupied by thoughts of "What next?" And, frankly, it's a big question.

For better or for worse, I have a couple months to ponder that very question. You'll forgive me, I hope, for not going into detail here when it comes to the possibilities and how I'm weighing them. For the moment, I'm still gainfully employed after all.

But.

Not for long.

Mercy post...kind of

A certain someone complained that he kept getting reminded of the subject of my last post because I hadn't written anything since to push it down the page. So, here you go, it has now been demoted to "old news." However, that's probably the only part of this you're going to like, B.

Today is a celebration. It's a celebration of love, a celebration of equality, a celebration of hopefulness and a celebration of victory over discrimination.

Today was the first day of legal same-sex marriage in California, and it's a day that I feel quite happy and satisfied to be a Californian, a state that is making a stride forward. This is only one of thousands of articles on the event, but it covers all the bases pretty well, if you haven't heard it dozens of times already. And if you feel similarly, here is something you can do to share your thoughts with the governor of your state.

I don't know anyone at this point who is planning to tie the knot, same-sex or opposite-sex, but I'm celebrating each of the people who are taking that step in love, in hope, in a new era of equality, right here from my living room.

I tried to be a lot more personally involved. I volunteered to perfom civil wedding ceremonies for the county clerk's office here because they are expecting more of an increase than the current staff can handle. I got all the information I needed to become a deputy marriage commissioner, but they held the training and swearing-in on a day I couldn't get there, much to my disappointment. I'm hoping there'll be another chance if they continue to need people and the anticipated challenges aren't successful.

And challenges there will be.

I'm not about to dive deeply into the whys and wherefores and my thoughts on people who see this as some sort of threat to them, their lives, their religion or whatever other reasons they hold, and will seek to go backwards. I'm not a part of the gay and lesbian community, I can't speak about it in a meaningful way other than to say how I feel; there are many others you can look to for more than that.

But to those of you who will mount these challenges or seek to support them: I disagree with you, with all my heart, and will be here to rise to that challenge.

It's people like me who will be standing there on the other side of the line you'll draw, engaging in the fight you'll bring, making sure we're heard just as loudly, just as strongly in numbers, if perhaps with less vitriol. Because, to me, your reasons are about intolerance, inequality, unfounded fear and, because it's the opposite of love, hate. If standing against those things isn't worthwhile, I'm not sure exactly what is.

Thank you

It's times like these that I am reminded what awesome friends I have. Thank you all for your support, I really, really appreciate it.