I miss newspapers.  There, I said it.  Call me old-fashioned but I really miss opening my front door, snagging today’s paper and curling up on the couch reading it with a huge cup of coffee me in my hand.    Yes, yes I know.   This is incredibly un-PC of me.  I’m supposed to be grateful that with a click of the mouse, I can have not one but many news sources available to me each and every single hour of each and every single day.  But there is a huge difference aesthetically between the comfort of my couch, the smell of the newsprint and the relaxing, almost leisurely effect of lazing about for 20 minutes to read the paper and stuffing random CNN.com articles into my brain, while drinking my coffee and multi-tasking on my computer.  What’s that you say?  Don’t answer emails while reading the news in the morning?   You’re joking right?
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 I figured California would be like all the other places I lived.  You know how it goes.  You’re SO excited and everything is bright and shiny and new and then small bumps appear in the road and all of a sudden you realize that you’re the same, and life is pretty much the same and stress is going to happen no matter where you live.   And then you wake up one morning, drink your coffee and you look around at all the boxes left to unpack after three weeks in the house.  Then a negative thought pops into your head because you find out your window screens have holes in them and the school system’s computer overhaul went horribly awry and your child is NOT actually in the school’s database even though she’s in the school district’s.   Same ole, same ole, right?
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On Tuesday night, Drue and I drove to San Jose to attend the Lady Gaga concert.   I was concerned that the show, with its over-the-top theatrics and reported in-your-face sexuality might be a bit much for Drue.  That said, she’s a huge Lady Gaga fan and tickets were somehow, amazingly, miraculously available (and they were GOOD tickets) so I made Drue a deal:  pay for a nice chunk (1/2) of your own ticket and we’ll go.   Drue checked out her savings account balance, we chatted about the number of zany bands she could purchase with this hunk of cash, and after a moment’s reflection, Drue said “book em, Dano!”  So I pulled out le old credit card and bought those tickets right then, right there, forthwith.  And no, Drue did not really say “book em, Dano” but I am all aquiver over this whole Hawaii Five-O business coming in the fall so I’ll be working that little catch phrase into conversation and posting as much as possible.  You’ve been warned!
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Now that life has finally slowed down a bit, I wanted to take a moment and reflect on the last year.  Granted, it’s been more than a year since I started writing here on lifeinflux (July 27th to be exact); however, there have been some pressing matters to attend to in the last 10 days.  What have I been busy doing, you ask?   Well, I just moved my family, my business, and pretty much my entire life across the country from Fairfax, VA to the Bay Area of California for example.   And since I own and run my own business, deliverables, client needs, business development and payroll did not stop just because I was busy doing other things like packing, recycling, driving 2, 851 miles with a Meemsy, a Bear and a Drue and all our stuff we could not live without, or watching Jason avoid driving a 26-foot truck right off the Sierras.   If you want that rollercoaster rush in your every day life, go load up a huge truck with books, furniture and other accoutrements, attach a car to the end of it, and drive from Reno, Nevada to Sacramento, California at night.   Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it.
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When I was little, I wanted to be a world famous concert pianist with three kids and live in New York in an amazing flat in the Village and throw fabulous parties and have my entire family attend and I just knew I would be loved and adored.  Most importantly, I felt that I would have achieved a measure of success and my father would finally say those words I longed to hear, “I love you and I’m proud of you.”  I knew adulthood would be my vindication after a rollercoaster childhood and that I would have a family who cared for me and about me.   To say things did not go exactly as planned is an understatement.   I am not a concert pianist. I am not world famous.  I don’t have three kids and I don’t live in an amazing flat in New York.    But that said,  I really wouldn’t trade who I am and my life and the people in it for anything.
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To follow up on my earlier New York post, I wanted to write about the rest of my trip from a few weeks ago.   Before I get started, I want to assure everyone that no vegans or shoes were harmed for the sake of this post.
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So it’s been awhile since I posted because between coordinating the move, my company, ongoing contracts, business development for new contracts, raising Drue, dealing with two needy pets, and hustling to ensure my Drama Club program will continue without my daily presence, I’ve been a bit busy.    That said, I just had to post about my business trip a few weeks ago.  I love going to New York and love hanging with my friend Magda so the fact that I got to be in New York and hang with Magda all on the same day was too good to be true.  Two BD meetings, a little art, a little shopping and lunch with one of my favorite gal pals – what could be better right?   I was on the early commuter to NYC so I grabbed my iPhone, laptop, and my suit and headed to the airport in standard flight clothes – jeans, tshirt and flip-flops.  I got to NYC with no issues, walked off the plane, hit the bathroom and realized that today was NOT going to be the day I imagined.
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I’m not sure whether I want to reboot the cat or simply boot her.   For the last three nights, Mimir has chirped and meowed at the windows starting sometime around 3 AM and ending when she decides it is time to nap at 9.   Of course, the window she does this from is mine.  And then, when she sees I am awake – because DUH! of COURSE I am awake – she comes over just in case I want to pet her.   This happens every hour or so until the sun wakes up whereupon the machine gun “At-at-atatatatatat” starts because OHMIGOD there are BIRDS out there.  And she must have them!  At 5 in the fricking MORNING.  I’m not sure why spring has sprung so prolifically with Meemsy and why she’s choosing the middle of the night to be so mouthy.  Animals SLEEP TOO.  Does it have anything to do with turning seven this past March?  Can fixed cats go through menopause?   Is this some kitty middle-of-the-night hot flash?  Since she’s already up and suffering, should she just wander over to the window to cool off?   And since she’s THERE, oh LOOKIT!   A mole or vole or mouse or whatever nocturnal creature is out there whose sole purpose in the universe is to plague my very existence and ensure I NEVER SLEEP AGAIN!
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175 days ago, I posted the 101 things I would accomplish in 1001 days. And wow, have the last 175 days been exciting and overwhelming and tumultuous!   And in case you think those SAT practice tests don’t do squat for you, you’re wrong.  I just used TWO SAT words in a single sentence.   The first thing I did was give up soda for 1001 days. I thought it would be hard and for the first week it was.  Then on the 19th of October, it stopped being all headachy and insane and I started feeling better.   And then the second week hit and I sort of forgot about how hard it was and just started ordering things like water and iced tea (the unsweet kind).   I found fruit based fizzy drinks that I liked that were not only low calorie but did not guarantee to eat a hole in my stomach.   I survived the holidays and a trip to California without soda and in January realized I had passed the 100 day mark without realizing it.   Well, today folks, I am on day 175 and I have to tell you, I don’t miss soda.  In fact, I may never drink soda again.   So go me!
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This morning I filled out my official 2010 United States Census.  I was going to put it off but the fact that my response is REQUIRED BY LAW intimidated me a little.  So I ignored it for three days and finally my paranoia set in.   Granted, I won’t be here this weekend if the police, FBI or god forbid, the CIA, decide to raid my home, break down my door and confiscate my juice glasses, sixteen bottles of wine and one Meemsy.   The WMD better known as Kodi Bear will be safely stashed away with me in the wilds of North Carolina (better known as Durham).   Unless Drue has been giving out her Gmail password again, I think we’re safe from anyone in the government thinking we’re terrorists, or god forbid, Bush’s tourists which is why we, the American people, passed the Patriot Act.   Because we are just not safe with all those tourists running amuck, don’tcha know?  And let’s not even discuss the baggies of herbal yuminess in the middle drawer of my buffet.  It’s TEA ossifer, I swear!   I bought it on my last trip to San Francisco!   Wink.  Nudge.¹
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