He stood in front of the gate, looking down at the slip of paper etched with the number that was on the mailbox right next to him. The number on the paper, 808, had been traced over and over again in pencil, giving the back a raised texture that he was absent-mindedly running his fingers over. A white privacy fence circled the property, but he knew it was not meant to block the eyes of those passing by, it was a part of the decor of the property. The fence was decorated with flowers growing in beds along the base, and climbing ivy covered most of the surface. He knew from the address that this was the right place, knew even better from the living fence, but he still hesitated. It had been years, years that felt like decades, since he had seen her. He was unsure, about himself, the idea of seeing her again, the future, and pretty much everything in between. It wasn’t that seeing her again meant anything more than two people catching up, it was just the opportunity to do so after so long was overwhelming. continue reading…
Dancing in Sunlight
That One Time, When I Gave Up
There is an interesting thing about life: you can’t control it, no matter what you think. There might be some people out there who will tell you that they are in control of their life, that they are the masters of their fate. While I agree with some of the concepts, you just can’t control everything about how the world works. I believe that life happens to you, despite what plans you have made. However, despite how much I believe this, I also have been trying to control my own life for so long that I don’t really even know where the plans I’ve made are going. Lately I’ve just been trying to hang on before life seems to sweep me away. continue reading…
The King of Wasted Effort
There are some days that you feel like you’ve got the world wrapped around your finger. You wake up in the morning and things just feel right, like you can shoot for that personal best you had a few weeks ago. Those are good days, but that isn’t today. Because for every one of those days I have, I usually have four or five days where I just feel like things aren’t going to click together at all. I compare these days to working on a 1000 piece puzzle where each of the puzzle pieces are cut exactly the same. Oh, and one is missing, you know, just to add that extra “umph” to the kick in the stomach. Those are the days I just feel like I could hop in the car, point it in a direction and drive away. Its the days where I feel like I’m the King of Wasted Effort. continue reading…
The Face of the Future
Have you ever had a conversation with someone and realized that, though your life may not be exactly as you wish, you aren’t really doing all that bad? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my life currently, which I guess usually happens when you’re in transition and changes are coming. I keep thinking about decisions I’ve made and how some things could have been different. It usually isn’t a good line to follow because there is no point in dwelling on the past. It happens, though, and I’ve been there lately, just trying to figure stuff out. Normally most of the people I talk to have their lives together, making progress and doing the things they want. Sure, it could mean that most of the people I know are above average, which I’d like to think is a quality of being my friend. continue reading…
Introduction to Harold
It was a dark and stormy night. Well, last night was a dark and stormy night. Tonight it really isn’t that bad. The rain brought in a cold front and took the edge off the heat that had been driving the locals crazy. You know the type, sheltered rich kids attending the most ivy of ivy league schools. I won’t make mention of which school it is, mostly for legal reasons and I can’t afford to get sued right now. But let’s just say that this school invented ivy. And I mean that, they genetically created it in a lab, like some Frankenstein monster, and before anyone knew it the ivy had spread all over the place. The marketing guys, though, took control of the situation and made it sound like a good thing. “Our school is covered in ivy,” they’d say to hopeful touring students, “which gives us the upper hand when dealing with education.” continue reading…
State of the Union
Okay, maybe “State of the Union” is a bad title since I am single. I am, however, out of fresh and clever titles, so you are just going to have to live with this one. Being creative is a pretty hefty responsibility, people, and I’m not getting any support on it. I don’t even get paid for my creativity. Money would be great, but I’d even take the adoring gazes of women who want to unravel the mystery that is me. I’m seriously lacking in those. I’ve been realizing the past few weeks that “socially inept” might be a pretty good label for me. At least it seems that way. continue reading…
No Story So True
For anyone who has ever tried their own technical support on a computer, this is for you:
Happy Birthday
You know who you are. Happy Birthday.
The Life of a Programmer
I’m currently working on a programming problem at work. This problem has my brain tied in knots, and it makes me realize that to be a good programmer you need to be able to think in a very specific manner, especially if the program you are writing deals with databases in any way. I know programming seems like magic to some people, you write code that makes the computer do things, but in all reality, that is the easy part of programming. You are, for the most part, just giving the computer instructions in a language that has rules. We all use these rules everyday without thinking about it, they are the basic logical operators of our lives. For example, if you get your mail and you are opening each letter, you normally first check to see who the mail is addressed to (unless you’re nosy). So you are taking a piece of data, performing a logical operation on that data, and then making a decision based on that logic. In computer terms, you’d be accessing a string (looking at the name), parsing that string to see if it equals your name (checking to see if the name you looked at is yours), then, if true, open the letter. continue reading…
Emotional Affair, I
If you would have asked anyone about the person who lived in apartment 107 they would have responded with something like, “I thought that place was vacant,” or “I saw him once. He’s a weird one.” The truth is someone did live in 107, and he was one of those quiet types. Often he’d listen the his music at just the right volume so he could barely hear it, not even a whisper able to be heard through the paper-thin walls, unlike his neighbor, who often could be heard talking on the phone about the latest piece of gossip she had picked up. He heard it all, and promptly forgot it, because he felt like a gentleman should be respectful of others, even those he did not know. He was one of those types, and even more. As such, he led a lonely existence. continue reading…
