(Note: Any posts titled “State of Mind” from here on out will be posts on personal stuff or something that is about my life in general. Keep that in mind when you read them, or you can skip them altogether.)

I had my performance review the other day.

 I’ve been up here in The OKC now for 14 months, and I can’t say that all of them were shining examples of how my life could be excellent. Truth be told… a lot of it sucked.

It took me 8 months in fact to realize this, and that it was my own damned fault that this was the case. This is in fact why my midyear review was less than stellar.

The irony, of course, was that once I figured this out and once I got past the personal crapfest I was putting myself through (lest we forget the whole “Finley falls in love” debacle), things came together for me. I found myself at peace with my job, the people around me- including the girl in question, and myself.

So, the past 6 months have been much better. I am enjoying my time here a lot more, I’ve started being much more social, my career has flourished and I’m a lot happier. Not only that, but I’m even really good friends with the girl whom I accepted would be nothing more than a friend. By the by, if you can get to that level with someone you’re doing pretty damned good.

This led to the past two weeks, basically. It started with me looking for a new position. I found something here in The OKC that was a use of my previous job experience, and I applied. While doing so, I also looked at moving up in my own organization. Finally, I began training up here for a site conversion we’re undergoing.I’ve now had four interviews, three of which are for the job I applied for outside of my department. I had a really good interview with the manager in my department. It culminated with the best review I’ve had in years, with a very nice raise and the best bonus I’ll have ever received here at the Job.

And to think… all of this started because six months ago someone told me I needed to find what made me happy.

I’ve referred to my state of contentment as “the theoretical happy” a few times before with some friends up here. I call it this because of two reasons. Number one, as I kept myself unhappy for many years I had a little trouble providing myself with a frame of reference. When one wears discontent like a warm blanket for too long, it’s tough to get out of it. Number two, I call it this because for a while, I worried slightly that this new mindframe wouldn’t last.

I mean, this is me we’re talking about here. I kinda have a reputation for being miserable.

That being said, I found after a while that I wasn’t really getting unhappy. Oh, there are days where I’m not in as good a mood as I’d prefer. After all, I’m still human. But, there isn’t a continuous level of discontent coursing through my veins. I’m not living for the moodiness anymore.

Naturally, this scares the crap out of me.

Are you surprised? I mean, when one gets so used to a certain frame of reference the opposite frame of reference can throw that person. I found myself… smiling more. I was more pleasant to talk to, and I enjoyed more conversation and discourse. Hell, I was even fun to be around.

The really wierd part is, this started to show in the rest of my interactions with people. Things that used to bug me didn’t really bother me anymore. People that were waiting months for the other shoe to drop and for me to return to form found themselves getting used to this new outlook. Oh, I’d still get pissed if someone pushed the right buttons. The difference was, those buttons were far harder to push now.

And so, I find myself now where the theoretical happy is no longer theoretical. I’m happy, and it’s been that way for a while. I’m judging from other experiences that this is a good thing. Would I be happier in Austin were I still there?

Here’s the irony, folks- probably not.

Oh, I’d be okay to be sure. I’d just not have had the experiences required for me to change my outlook so drasticaly as I have. I still want to get back to Austin as soon as it makes sense- that has not, and will not change. I just know that being here was a necessary step for me and I’m not as regretful about moving here as I was at one time.

Now, I can return to Austin a more complete person. I’m really, finally ready to find that person who will complement my life in the way that many of us long for, and I know I haven’t met her yet.

I have a year to go before I can be back at the earliest. I’ll be ready.

Out.

[ratings] 

It’s odd, when one notes the passing of an event or anniversary with little-to-no fanfare.

Friday was the anniversary of me making the move to Oklahoma City. A year ago this time, I was in a hotel room awaiting the chance to move into my apartment. It was frozen over outside, and would remain so for several days.

It’s been a year of change for me, moreso than usual in fact. I’ve become a happier person, but went through some serious heartache to get there. I finally have some closure on a bit of personal strife, and it took physical distance from the situation to finally achieve such. It was the year in which I’ve made the most money in a twelve month period ever.

It’s also been a year of me finally, finally letting go of the little things. You know, the little things that would build up and eventually ruin any chance of a good mood on my part. Learning to let go and finally just let myself be happy has been huge.

Physically, it’s been a year of change as well. I’ve lost 55 pounds since my heaviest weight. I’m wearing sizes that I haven’t worn since high school. That’s pretty nice, to be honest.

All in all, things are actually good right now. One year in, and I’m doing alright.

There is still that overwhelming desire to return to Austin, no doubt. I want to be there badly- but on my terms.I need to know that my return to Austin will be one of triumph, not one of failure or giving up what I have careerwise.

There’s also the idea of moving on. In this case, it’s moving on from so many things that have kept me depressed for so long. Family issues, the pain of unreturned feelings, and just finally letting go of private, unreasonable guilt I’ve held onto for so long. I’ve finally learned how to move on and let go of things, and to let my guard down a bit.

It’s funny, really. I came here to advance my career. I found so many other things, that despite my desire to leave I’m glad I came here.

Out.

Still haven’t forgotten, sir. Hope you’re sitting back in a chair somewhere looking down towards us, seeing what we’ve done in the past two years and having a grand old time.

Out.

This has been an interesting weekend.

It started with my drive home, to Austin. I call Austin home because after 5 years, it had indeed become my home. I love this town, and will do my damnedest to return full-time at some point. I came into town for RenFest, but almost turned the car around when I was too tired to keep driving Friday night.

That’s where a friend (the woman of interest I’ve written about before, in fact) came into the picture. She called me, recognized I was tired, and spent over three hours talking to me on the drive into town- an act which was a returned favor of sorts, as I had spoken to her many times on trips from The OKC to her hometown.

Needless to say, I’m still damned grateful for her help.

I got into town, where I headed to Pylorns’ home. I’ve spent the last few nights here, hanging with the gang and revisiting old familiar haunts. But it was tonight- a few minutes ago, in fact- that the event prompting the title of this post occured.

I found Mr. Mike’s knife.

I’ve written in the past about Mr. Mike, a man whose effects upon my life are too numerous to mention. About ten months ago, when I moved to The OKC I believed the knife to have been stolen from my hotel room. I felt like a part of me was lost, even if it was through something so unremarkable as an inexpensive folding knife.

Tonight, I was packing for my drive back to The OKC tomorrow. I heard change jingling in my backpack’s pockets. This is a backpack I hadn’t used since moving here. I opened the pocket that I thought the change was in, and reached inside. I felt something not at all like loose change, and pulled it out.

And there it was.

The grip is black plastic, he blade a deep and basic black. The actual cutting part of the blade is silver from the sharpening of the blade, where the paint was ground off. The blade has a spring assist, to help open the knife. It is a simple Kershaw knife.

And, it belonged to one of the best men i’ve ever known and was anded to me as a reminder of him.

I’ve missed it- and to a much deeper aspect, Mr. Mike- deeply since moving. I felt like a part off me was figuratively cut off by losing that knife. Finding it again has made me feel whole, as if things are right again.

I feel whole again.

I knew coming here this weekend was the right thing. Thank you, James.

Out.

For years now, I’ve had a story inside of me.

It’s been one I’ve wanted to tell, one that is at once personal and quite public. It’s one that is partly based on reality, partly fiction. And for years I’ve told myself “You can’t write this. It’s too much to take on. You’re not the writer you’d need to be to tell this story.”

That was then.

That was before I accepted and embraced the concept that I can pursue this dream of mine. I want to be a writer- not just a blogger, a WRITER. Yes, there’s a difference.

I want to be able to tell this story in my head. It’s origin comes from a very painful period of my life, but it’s a story of honesty and eventual happiness. It’s not about getting the girl, or finding the secret that people die to protect, or any of that crap.

It’s just a story about a guy figuring some shit out, and finding out he can be happy.

I say it’s partially fiction and partially real, and to an extent that’s true- like any vain writer who thinks people would give a shit, I’ll be tallking about some things from my own life. True, there will be major differences. I’m not even sure where the story will end yet.

I just know I’m ready to tell the tale to those who will listen.

I guess this means I’m throwing my hat into the contest, and entering NaNoWriMo.

Out.

There’s a Paul Thorn song out there, called “Almost What You Need.” It’s about the pain of unreturned love, and seeing the one you love not return those feelings.

Never mind that it’s a beautiful song. The concept of having feelings for someone and not having them returned to you is one that has been done to death in entertainment, but not as poignantly as in this song.

Now, I’m not in love by any means. But I get that song a little bit more.

A while back, I posted on Wetwired about a certain woman I’d developed some feelings for- again, not love but certainly a special affinity at least. Shortly afterwards, I made my intentions known that I would begin to “woo” her, for lack of a better term.

She was flattered. She played around with the concept, too, and for a while I thought that it was possible that she might in fact return those feelings I had begun to develop.

(Unless you’re completely clueless, you should see where this is headed.)

Friday, I pretty much saw the writing on the wall after we had danced around the subject for some time. I decided I would end the pursuit, and told her I would only pursue her continued friendship. Later that night, she called. She was sorry if I was hurt, and and she told me that she wasn’t ready for a relationship like that with anyone. In her mind, she would be a better friend than anything else. Me being the schmuck I am, I said I was okay, and that I would be fine.

I can deal with rejection. I’ve been rejected before, and it’s painful. This one hurt too, but I’m at least retaining the friendship. I’d decided that it was more important to keep her as a friend than make anything uncomfortable by continuing after a lost cause.

…

Still… it would have been nice.

Out.

I’ve been here four days.

My new, nice and useful phone broke on day 2 of the trip- and they’re sending me a non-exact replacement. (More on this another time.)

It’s rained two of those days.

My allergies to certain animals kicked in on day three. Consequently, I had less than five hours of sleep last night.

I’ve had to deal with kids that can only be described as “insane.”

Oh, yeah- and I may need to get a hotel room for tonight and tomorrow just to be able to breathe again.

Yeah, this sounds about right. All I’ll say is, I’m looking forward to being back in my bed Wednesday night.

Out.

The long needed vacation began this morning, at 4:59 AM.

That was when my alarm went off, so that I could leave my apartment at 6:30 AM to be at th airport by 7 to check in for a plane flight at 9:40. At that point, I was jetting my way to Chicago. I have several friends up here, and just flat-out love this city.

Hence this post, from the temporary location of Wetwired Haven. Why Haven, you ask? It’s simple. This is a real vacation for me, for the first time in years. No worrying about dealing with family issues, no racing around to see tons of people. This is a chance for me to really, truly relax.

Kinda nice, once I think about it.

Updates to come later on, I’m certain.

Out.

I’m awake at 1:30 in the morning.

This, in and of itself, is not unusual nowadays. I work a later shift here in The OKC than I did in Austin, and as such I’m getting used to odder hours.

The thing is, though, that I’m trying to go to bed earlier. Seriously, I want to be asleep by around midnight. Instead, I’m awake at 1-2 AM because my mind hasn’t said to my thoughts “Closing time, folks. You don’t have to go to bed but you can’t stay here. Last call, free booze…”

(Yes, I thought out that last sentence and said to myself it would be good to write out. Bite me.)

Instead, I’m awake with my thoughts.

One of them is trying to figure out what I want to do regarding a potential person of interest. I dig her, that’s for certain. Hell, she KNOWS I dig her and even seems receptive to my ham-fisted efforts at figuring out my feelings. For that matter, most people who know me and her know I dig her. My issue comes through whether or not I could take the next step forward. It doesn’t take a mind-reader to know I have issues with intimacy. Hell, I’m kinda known for it. Let’s face it- Quasimodo let more people in than I do.

The thing is, though… she’s in.

She one of the very few people I open myself to. She’s not on the level of Beerslinger or even Pylorns, but we’ve talkled about some pretty personal things. I don’t know how it happened, but I felt willing to open up a bit. There are things I’ve only hinted about on this site (my family, for example) that I’ve discussed with her.

So, I’m willing to open myself up to her. The question I have to answer is… how much do I let her in?

God, I suck at this whole… personal thing.

Even this is impersonal. Here I am, sititng at my laptop on a bed I sleep alone in, in a 2 bedroom apartment I live alone in, typing my thoughts out instead of openly sharing them with the person that matters.

On the bright side, I don’t think I’m a lost cause. Like I said, she knows I dig her mostly because instead of pining from afar (my greatest hit, right behind “Finley’s a cynic”) I’m actually talking to her. I’m not completely out in the open yet but I’m working on it.

So, I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.

I’ll open up to her completely, I’m certain. It may not be tomorrow, but it will happen. If I get rejected, then at least I can say I tried and go from there. That’s a definite improvement.

I feel like getting some sleep now.

Out.

Man, I go quiet for a few weeks, and THIS is what Pylorns writes about? The end of days?

I just can’t leave him alone with you people, can I?

Not much of an update here though, to be honest. I have new hours at work, which eat into my evening proclivities which normally include this site. Plus, I haven’t had much to say lately. Combine that with the fact that I try not to discuss the details of The Job on here (especially more so since people from said Job now READ this site), and the fact that I’ve been too damned busy to pay too much attention to the world of late, and it leads to me being a very dull boy.

I have had some personal developments, of which I may discuss on here eventually. Oh and Py, his paramour and I are heading to the Scarborough Faire next weekend for some RenFest fun and frivolity. You can expect a report on this, since it’ll be first time in a couple of months since the three of us got together.

Some family issues, which I won’t go into on here just yet although it may lead to an unplanned trip to Louisiana in the very near future.

Other than that, pretty quiet here in The OKC. I’ll report back from the fringes of society soon, I promise.

Out.

I couldn’t pass up writing about this- MT, this is for you.

I’m sitting at work, and I get an IM from a coworker- MT, in this case. It reads:

“Hey, I saw about your engagement. Congratulations! I’ll make sure to talk to (insert my boss’ bosses names here) and we can throw a party for you and your fiancee!”

And before you ask- yes, he was oh-so-obviously busting my balls.

I just thought it was funny, myself.

Out.

So, it looks like I should let you in on some important news.

About six months ago, my company began sending me up to The OKC for interviewing. I began volunteering to come up here more often, eventually making six more trips up before pursuing further employment and relocation to the town. Ostensibly, it was for just The Job.

What I haven’t mentioned, until now that is, is that when I first came up here I met someone.

We met at a local restuarant here in Bricktown, a place called Nonna’s. Her name is Brenda Swanford, and she’s a pharmaceutical sales rep based out of Tulsa. We initially started out with some basic flirting and fun, but over the course of my return trips here we began to see each other more frequently.

When I moved up in January, things became more serious. I held off from telling anyone, simply because as I lead a relatively private life I didn’t want the typical pestering and badgering that comes with me being involved in arelationship. When Pylorns and his Lady came up in February, I had to ensure that he didn’t find out about the relationship, for fear he would blab about it on the site.

Brenda began spending more time with me recently, and I with her. Eventualy, I realized I had found The One. With a pay increase recently, I decided that it was the right time.

So, I bought the ring. And today, I asked for her hand in marriage.

Surpisingly, she said yes.

I’ll have more details after the jump, but I wanted to share this information with you folks. I’ll let the really close ones in on all the details directly, but we are very happy.

…

Read the rest of this entry »

Eight Years.

Pylorns and I have known each other for a little over 8 years now, but that’s not really the focus of this little post. Actually, the period of time is only relevant because of something I found recently during the move up to The OKC.

See, one of the items I got rid of in my move was a very old wooden chest my great-grandfather had owned as a tool chest. I had kept it for nearly 20 years myself, but it finally met its fate during an attempt to move it out of my old apartment. The chest contained 18 years worth of memories and such, almost all of which was unsalvageable as during that period of time the chest internally began to break down further. In fact, every time I had attempted to open the chest in the last few years it resulted in an allergic reaction that would leave me miserable for several days on end.

One of the items I removed from my ownership in this move was an old copy of a newpaper that circulated across the LSU campus for one semester in 1999. This newspaper, such as it was, was called The Spectrum. It was the brainchild of a couple of guys who lived outside of LSU’s South gates, Matt and Jason.

Why is this important, you might ask?

It’s not, really. Well… save that it was the first publication that I participated in as a writer.

I had found information on the launch of the paper through flyers on LSU’s campus I was still in school at the time, though practically in official capacity. The events of the previous summer were still weighing heavily on me, and my participation was limited to making sure I was on campus and little more. I had already shaken off that semester as a loss, and was able to convince the school to let me drop the semester and retake my courses the next semester. As I was walking around the school, I found the flyer looking for interested writers.

Within two weeks, I was the Entertainment editor for The Spectrum.

God, I wish I was joking on that point.

It was bad enough that I hadn’t really developed any sense of a writing style. Further, I had never been published save for one letter to the editor in the 8th grade where I espoused the timeless tradition of sticking up for MTV, wth such viable and legendary artists as Paula Abdul and Bryan Adams. (Fuck it. I was 12 at the time, so sue me. Although, it was a bit funny finding my parents only learning of this letter once it was published…) I was by default the Entertainment Editor for a paper just launching a month later.

Needless to say, I sucked.

Badly.

Seriously- a Hoover vacuum sucked less than those articles did, and I didn’t care one bit for one simple reason. I got paid.

Actually, it was funny in that my writing wasn’t the worst thing about the paper. First issue, I’m not kidding, ends up getting some free publicity in the other newspapers for the campus by having its “babe of the day” on the back, wearing short shorts and an open LSU baseball jersey. After the flack, the paper decided to run pictures of pets instead.

Well… not for long. From what information I could gather, the paper got screwed by someone that had advertised then refused to pay the two grand for the ads. It folded at the end of the semester, and last I heard the guys who ran the paper sold all of the equipment on eBay.

Eight years later, and I’m still writing. I’ve found my style and voice, thankfully. I’ve long since left college behind and have moved onto the real world with its fun and frivolity.

And yet… and yet I still remember those simpler times and look back with a sense of nostalgia. In a period of time in my life when few things made sense, this was… fun.

Out.

So, it’s been six days since I moved up to the OKC.

Five days since the ice storm.

Five days of below-freezing weather.

Consequently, it’s been five days since I last saw the stuff in my trailer. That’s because right now, outside?

Imagine a 2-3 inch layer of ice on the ground, on every single friggin’ thing out there.

Ice, as far as the eyes can see.

Now imagine trying not only to walk on it, but to try and move things on it.

Thankfully, tomorrow’s supposed to be in the 40s for a high. This means I might actually be able to use the damn stuff I brought up here. Y’know, the chairs, the DVDs… the BED. On the plus side, I do have food, drink and cable with highspeed internet. So, I’ve got that going for me. Not only that, but I’m really enjoying the job.

They gave me a laptop for the job, by he way. It’s kinda odd, not having to use a desktop after 5 years of looking at an old monitor. It’s also very freeing. I can get up, and work from anywhere in the offices. FOr that matter, I can drive down t the local Starbucks and work from there, or even from home.

Admittedly, that’s kind of nice. So is the idea that within 7 months I will likely be promoted again. I, along with the two guys on my team, have been told that our job is to create the policies and procedures for our replacements as we get promoted to management.

Okay, admittedly that was freaking cool to hear.

All things considered, it’s pretty nice up here. It’ll be better once I have my stuff upstairs, but I ain’t complaining.

Not yet, anyway.

Out.

I’ve been debating if this was a big a deal for the site as it is for me, but I figured that since some of you have developed a sort of interest in the behind-the-scenes work on the site, I should go ahead and reveal this news.

About a week before my departure to Baton Rouge, I was given a formal offer within my company to a promotion with a rather sizeable pay increase. The offer had come after three months of travelling for my department to help hire for and create a new department in Oklahoma City. The offer was for a mentoring role that would transition into a formal management role.

The catch, such as it was, would be leaving Austin to move to Oklahoma City.

In and of itself, this is not something to be taken lightly for me. I have lived here for over 5 years now, and have developed close friendships with several individuals. At the same time, I’ve developed a close friendship with Pylorns that I will carry with me no matter where I am. He’s helped me as often as I’ve had the opportunity to return the favor, and his advice to weigh this decision carefully was taken to heart.

Two days before my trip, I accepted the promotion offer.

What this means for me is rather simple. Within nine days from now, I will have moved away from Austin for the foreseeable future. I will take up full residence in Oklahoma City, to work for my company in a managerial role.

What does this mean for the site? Not much, actually. I’ll still be around and I’ll still be posting, but I’ll be doing so from the newly-appointed Wetwired North. I’ll still be in constant communication with Pylorns, who joins Beerslinger in a very short list of long-distance friends I would drop anything for if they needed me to travel for something important.

Sir, you have been a source of strength and stability for me here in Austin. I shall remember that, and will owe you greatly for this.

…

One other thing. This move is considered permanent by my company, but permanence is only for as long as they need you in one place. I shall make this promise to my friends in Austin, who have seen me through the greatest five years of my life:

I shall return.

Out.