Diary of a Network Geek

It’s that time of year again!

Two years ago, for fun, and to make a couple of nice girls smile, I programmed up the New Year’s Resolution Generator. I based it, in part, on some ideas from the Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Holidays, but I have to admit, I threw in some of my own warped sense of humor. And, I weighted things a little more toward heavier drinking and looser morals. Hey, a guy can dream!

In any case, it’s been a hit in years past, so I thought I’d bring it around again. A little earlier this year, but just so you all have enough time to whip up a good New Year’s Resolution. Have fun!

NaNoWriMo will soon be upon us!

Golly, I feel rather like Linus announcing the immanent arrival of the Great Pumpkin. Well, misunderstood genius aside, as you, dear reader, can tell from my sidebar, NaNoWriMo is fast approaching. In just a few short weeks, hopeful authors will be scribbling away furiously, or typing, or whatever, trying to crank out 50,000 words, or more, in a month, or less. If that shapes up into an actual novel with a discernible plot, then they will have done better than anticipated. But, that’s not even the point.

For many of us who revere the written word, actually producing it ourselves can be a daunting task. We stare at the blank page, paper or electronic, while beads of stress-induced perspiration well up on our collective foreheads and begin that slow, maddening descent down our angst-ridden faces. NaNoWriMo, however, is about producing. Perhaps not in a stress-free environment, but at least producing in great quantity that often frightening of all art forms, the story. It can be about anything, really, as long as we actually write. The product is the goal, not the quality. In fact, NaNoWriMo’s founder, Chris Baty, encourages participants to set aside their internal critic and simply produce without hardly a concern for content or quality at all. Theoretically, it can be a liberating experience, if you can manage it.

As you all may remember, I came no where near the goal last year, but I did manage to produce more writing in a single month than I had all year. Also, I had a major project at work. And, what I thought at the time was just a nasty cough turned out to be, well, cancer. Surely, that’s enough to excuse last year’s dismal performance.
In any case, it’s a new year and I’ll make a new effort. In fact, I even have the shadow of an idea for a plot…
But, I’ll save that for November, when NaNoWriMo actually begins.

Recycling old fun links.

Last year, two pretty ladies I knew on-line were having a rough time of it, so, to make them smile, I programmed up the New Year’s Resolution Generator. I based it, in part, on some ideas from the Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Holidays, but I have to admit, I threw in some of my own warped sense of humor. And, I weighted things a little more toward heavier drinking and looser morals. Hey, a guy can dream!

In any case, it was apparently funny enough that Comedy Central Insider linked it in their blog. Which is pretty cool, no matter how you slice it.
So, even though I’m travelling on last minute family business, you can still whip up a wacky New Year’s Resolution while I’m gone. Hope you all have a better day than I expect to!

So, you may have noticed that I haven’t written as much lately.
Well, okay, maybe you haven’t because I have a giant backlog of posts just waiting for when I feel a little off and un-writerly. Still, these are generic posts and contain virtually nothing personal or important. There’s a reason. Of course, that’s silly, isn’t it? There’s always a reason!

Saturday night, after Mercy Street, I went out to dinner with some friends. More specifically, some friends that aren’t the Prayer Team. A buddy of mine, J., his new girl/woman/whatever, L., a special lady, C., and, the reason I jumped at the chance to go with this crew, Jennifer. She’s one of the two girls I could have changed my life for at that New Year’s party that L. threw. The one from out of state, not out of the country. So, of course, I jumped at the chance. I mean, a cute, young red-head who spent time in the Peace Corps and is about to finish her MBA? Yeah, an evening spent in conversation with her would be just fine.
In any case, we get to the restaurant and everyone is talking about what they’re going to order. J. gets some queso for the entire table, because, well, because he apparently has a very special relationship with cheese. But, that leads to a discussion about weight and diet. And, I talk about how I’d like to loose a few more pounds.
“Yeah, you looked really different when I met you four years ago”, J. said.
“Oh?” asked L.
“Yeah, I was on my way to being ‘little Jim’ at the time.”
“Weren’t you already little when I met you?” asked J.
“No, but, I was by the end of that year.”
“Yeah, you lost a lot of weight that year”, added J.
“Really? How much?” asked L.
“Well, I started out at around 230 and before the year was out, I’d bounced off 175 for a week or two.”
“Whoa! That’s a huge change! How’d you do it?” asked L.
“Well, I was out of work for a year, my now ex hadn’t even made a move toward working and I was doing everything I could to take care of my little family. I had no good prospects for jobs, thanks to the Enron thing. I was quickly running out of money and the bills kept coming and I had no idea how I was going to pay them. I got so depressed that I stopped eating. So, you know, that severe depression really takes the weight off.”
Apparently, by the time I was done with that little tale of woe, poor L., who is a dear, sweet, sensitive soul, had heard a whole lot of pain, because when I was done and looked at her, I got this slightly shocked, pitiful look and a very, small, quiet, “Oh, Jim, I’m so sorry…” To which I shrugged, smiled and said, “Hey, it happens. Regardless, I made it through, didn’t I?”
But, then, I felt so old. My buddy, J., is the same age I am, but he had no idea what it was like trying to support a family and knowing that there was no way I could make it without help. Help that wasn’t coming from anyone I lived with at the time. I realized that I’d lived an entire life, then watched it crumble into bits and fly off on the wind. And, here I was, left still standing to build another life with hardly any idea where to start. And, damn, if that didn’t make me feel like the oldest person at the table. And, all I can think after I’d said that was that I’d just ruined my chances with Jennifer sitting next to me. Of course, it’s very, very, highly unlikely that she’s going to move back to Houston after she gets her MBA anyway, but, still, a guy can dream.
But, it gets “better”…
So, we’re all walking out to our cars and everyone points theirs out and so on, trying to figure where to separate and hug and whatnot. I laugh and point out my car, saying, “Well, I can always spot my car. How many retired police cars can there be in a lot?”
And, L., trying to be her usual nice self, says, “I like it. It’s got personality.”
Ugh. Personality. I told J. when I saw him Sunday night, that I’d trade all that personality for a double helping of normal. He told me that it’d be okay and I’d drive something nice and normal again one day.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wasn’t talking about the car.

Yeah, it’s not years that get me, but, sometimes, it sure is the milage.

A funny thing happened in the drug store.
So, I made a run to Walgreens today, to get some stuff I forgot last night. Mousse and Carmex and, since I saw it, a digital scale with that body-fat calculator thing built in. If I’m going to make all my New Year’s resolutions happen, I’m going to need that. Anyway, one of the quirky things I do is walk through the magazine aisle and check to see what the average Gulf Coast Walgreens customer is reading these days. I especially like looking at the “Best Seller” rack to see what trashy paperbacks are popular with what I think of as the “least common denominator” of the reading community. Freakishly, what I found today was Gone With the Nerd. This is not a joke. This is an actual book that actually sells somewhere to someone. What’s more, it’s part of a series. Yeah, your eyes are not playing tricks on you, there is a series of books about nerd romance. In fact, go to the link above and read the reviews. Pay special attention to the one that’s titled “Nerd Served Hot & Spicy”.
So, what? Is the “nerd” the new, hot romantic hero? If so, how is it that I’ve missed this startling phenomena? As a Geek, do I qualify? Is there a form to fill out somewhere? A waiver to sign? In short, what’s a guy gotta’ do to capitalize on this exciting new trend?

Okay, all joking aside, this struck me as both funny and, well, okay, pretty much it was just funny to me. I was called a nerd most of my school life. At the time, it was kind of hard to take, but, after a while, I just stopped caring. Oh, sure, I still have those moments when I question who and what I am. Whether or not I’m “man” enough. What’s missing from my life, or what I should be doing to fulfill my “role” as a male in society. Well, here’s the thing, I’ve done it and continue to do it. Every day I go into the office and work a job I don’t get too excited about anymore because it pays the bills, I show that I’m man “enough”. Every time I hold a door for a woman I don’t know and will never know, I’m being a grown-up man. Every time I try to explain to my nephews to always treat girls nice, no matter how they treat you, I’m showing the world that I’m the kind of man I want to be.
I stopped going to strip clubs just before I met my ex-wife, not because I’d met someone I didn’t want to embarass, but because of that poor girl who was looking to me for validation after dancing for me. All she wanted wast to be loved, to feel appreciated, and all I did was tip her. Pretty low, isn’t it? Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. So, this geek, this nerd, stopped going because I didn’t want to see a woman who wanted that kind of validation. What’s more, I didn’t want to be the kind of guy who had to go to those places to get validation for cash myself. Better to be alone and know that I was living my life the right way and be able to look myself in the mirror than that. I’m still working on looking myself in the mirror and believing that I’m good enough, but, at least I’m closer than I was.
Yeah, I’m a geek or a nerd or whatever you want to label me. But, I’m more than that, too. Maybe I could be doing better financially than I am. Maybe my job could be more interesting or exciting. Maybe I could be driving a bigger, better car or have a bigger, fancier house. Maybe my clothes aren’t lined with designer labels or aren’t imported from Italy or where ever is fashionable this season. Sure, there are others who are doing that stuff better than I do. But, I’m fairly literate. I’m loyal to a fault. I’m fairly healthy and working on being healthier. I’m rebuilding my spiritual life. I take good care of my dog and try to help my friends any way I can. And, I care. I care about people. People I know and people I don’t. I don’t know what I am, exactlly, but I’m working on making myself better everyday. And, whatever that is, it’s good enough for me.

Okay, I’ll make some that are serious.
So, this coming year, I’ll make a couple of more serious New Year’s Resolutions.

1. I will stop dating married women. (Yeah, there are a couple of stories here and, no, you won’t see them on the blog.)
2. I will stop smoking. Again. Well, cigarettes at least. Eventually. Back off! Remember I have a lighter and I know how to use it!
3. I will have a more active social life, even if that means talking to total strangers and getting rejected over and over and over and ….
4. I will read at least one book on Freemasonry and/or the Knights Templar
5. I will read at least four books on spirituality and/or the history of the Bible
6. I will talk about my crazy ex-wife less. Unless, egged on by friends who know I have a really, really funny riff about how crazy she really was and what it was like living with her like the time she told me to stop breathing. Yeah, really, no joke.
7. I will volunteer for more charitable work, inside and outside my church.
8. I will actually, officially, join my church.
9. I will lose ten sixteen pounds, bringing my weight back under 180 pounds.
10. I will make sure that Christmas and birthday presents arrive on time or early for my niece, nephews and ex-step-daughter, but I will not expect to hear that they recieved them at all, much less on time.
11. I will get at least one more professional certificiation.
12. I will start writing fiction for publication again.
13. I will listen to other’s positive opinions about me more than I listen to my own negative opinions.
14. I will pay random strangers compliments, because who can hear too many nice things about themselves?
15. I will clean my house, ridding myself, piece by piece, of all my ex-wife’s junk.
16. I will entertain at my clean house, inviting friends to bring friends, thereby expanding my circle of friends.

UPDATE:

17. I will learn to weld.
18. I will weld aesthetically pleasing workout equipment for my own use.

(And, yes, I queued this up to post just after midnight while I’m out. I take that Geek moniker just so far.)

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"There is no substitute for hard work."
   --Thomas Edison

It’s almost New Year’s Eve, so I thought a link to a New Year’s Resolution Generator would be appropriate.
Originally, I did it to try and cheer up two special ladies who were having a rough holiday season. Honestly, I don’t know that it helped, but at least it kept my PERL CGI skills sharp and, I think, it’s a little bit of fun. And, yeah, the probabilities are weighted toward tequila drinking and kissing strangers. Hey, I’m single, it’s almost New Year’s Eve and if I can’t slant things in my favor, what’s the point of knowing a programming language at all?
Anyway, don’t take it too seriously and have a happy and safe New Year’s celebration!

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.
Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

Merry Christmas.
It is truly the most wonderful time of year. As I’ve mentioned before, I love this time of year. For me, it is a time of rebirth and renewal. A time of hope. Celebrating the birth of Christ reminds me that I, too, can be reborn. I can start again. Every year, I have another chance to be better than I was last year. More kind, more cheerful, more spiritual, more happy.
My nephew called me this morning to wish me a merry Christmas. My redneck nephew, as I like to think of him. He told me about watching the Texas Chainsaw Masacre last night, to try and shock me, I think. But, I shocked him by telling him all about the history of that film and what inspired it, all without missing a beat. I love my nephew and I’m deeply touched that he knows he can talk to me about anything without rattling me. And, I think it helps that I don’t judge him, either. I doubt he would have felt comfortable talking to anyone else in the family about his father’s drinking problem, so I count myself lucky to have earned that kind of trust from him. When he complained about having to go to church tonight, I did try to explain to him that he might come to enjoy Christmas Eve services again, one day. And, why that might be. Of course, he’s sixteen, so that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. When I thought about how I felt at sixteen, I smiled and moved on to other topics of conversation. At sixteen, he’s not interested in being reborn or renewed. Neither was I.
The older I get, though, the more important this time of year becomes. More important than family or tradition, I need that sense of hope. Hope that the world can be a better place. That I can contribute to making it such. Hope that the new year holds untold opportunity to grow and change. To improve my life and the lives of those around me. And, so, I do things differently than I have in years past. Tonight, I will be in a church on Christmas Eve for the first time in more than ten years. In fact, as I’ve mentioned, I’ll be reading scripture with four other people. My section is from Luke, Chapter Two, verses eight through fourteen:

There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God’s angel stood among them and God’s glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, wordwide: A savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.” At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God’s praises: “Glory to God in the heavenly heights, Peace to all men and women on earth who please him.”

Afterward, I’ll come home and have a helping of suet pudding, which my mother sent me this week. Traditionally, my paternal grandmother would make this every year, until she died. Something learned from a Scottish housekeeper they had when my father was a baby. In the morning, I’ll have what’s left of my mother’s infamous orange rolls. Another family tradition. And, I’ll call and talk to family up North. Of course, there will be presents to open, too, though, that’s really secondary to my holiday celebration. My roommate, Doc, is pretty alone this year, except for me, and I hope he’ll be pleasantly surprised by the few, small things I wrapped for him. It’s not much, but, I hope a gesture that will make him welcomed and loved and less alone.
And, then, I’ll pray that the feeling of renewal will stay with me all year long, making every day a chance to start fresh. A chance to reinvent myself in a better way. An opportunity to let more Light into my life and shut out more of the Darkness.
It’s been a good season and a good year, really, all things considered. I’m hopeful that the coming months will be as good. Thank you all for warm thoughts and wishes these past months. I hope you, too, feel renewed tonight. That hope is reborn for your life.
I’ve set this to post about the time I estimate I’ll be reading in church. I probably won’t check on the blog or e-mail until tomorrow, so, I’ll sign off saying:
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

(If you want to hear me read this, you can, here. And, yes, I sang that bit in German. I’m not a singer, so don’t judge me too harshly, eh?)

I’m actually not so blue.
The other day when I was at my head-shrink, he asked how things were going and how I felt. I told him that I felt better than I have in a long time, which is very true. He was a little dissapointed because he’s doing something on TV about holiday depression and, well, I just wasn’t going to be giving him any material to work with this year. Actually, we had a laugh about that.
Oh, sure, at times I get a little down because it would be nice to have someone “special” during the holidays, but, mainly, I feel pretty good being single. As I told him, at least I’m not married to someone who consistantly makes my life miserable at the holidays anymore! Though, I have to admit, in the past, before I suffered through that, I always hoped to have someone with whom to share my joy of this season. Girls get to say things like “Always a bridesmaid and never a bride” and give a sad, little laugh, but men don’t have any cute quips to toss out about that. When we’re single, though all our friends seem to be in relationships, we’re just, well, single.
In any case, even though I won’t be decorating this year at all, the holidays just aren’t depressing to me. I think everyone around me expects me to be all doom and gloom, because of how my ex-wife left me last year about this time. Actually, she took the only working car, grabbed her daughter and ran while I was in the shower. No note, no phone message, no nothing. Just cut and ran. That was a little hard to deal with, last year. And, yes, last year was terrible for me. I contemplated suicide more than one, but, in the end, I didn’t “play solitare with a pearl-handled deck”, as Mr. Zevon would say, because that would have meant she won. I couldn’t have that, now could I? And, maybe that’s why this year seems so effortless in comparison. What could be worse than that? Losing all my hopes and dreams in one afternoon, right before two family oriented events. Everything is up from there.
And, to me, that’s what this season is all about. Change. Rebirth. All Fall the days have been getting shorter, the nights and darkness lasting longer, and it is this season, at the Winter Solstice, that the hours of light start to overtake the hours of darkness again. Literally a rebirth of light in the world. (This year, the solstice falls on December 21, by the way.) In fact, it’s no accident that the early Christians chose that time of year to celebrate the birth of Christ. After all, the pagans they were trying to convert were already celebrating the rebirth of light, so, why not capitalize on that? Regardless of why or how it happened that way, this season has been about rebirth and renewal for me more than any other.
Every year, I get a new chance. A fresh start. Every year, I get a little hope that things can change. That I can change for the better.

I know this year has been tough on some of my readers. There’s been loss and heart-ache and pain of all flavors. That can happen at any time of year, of course, but it seems to sting worse during this season, for whatever reason. With that, and two very special readers in mind, I whipped together a fun, little PERL-based web-app that I’d like to share with you all. It’s the New Year’s Resolution Generator. And, if mention of tequila and kissing strangers comes up more frequently that you might expect, all I can say is, I’m single and an eternal optimist!

This is not what I intended to write.
Really, it’s not, though I’d imagine my ex-wife will think I planned it just for her. I didn’t, but, then, she always was a paranoid narcissist. And, I know I’ve been writing about her a lot lately, all I can say is that I hope it’s because I feel detached enough from her that I can let that part of my past go and out. Anyway, a recent post on another blog sort of hit me where I live, though not for the reasons one might think. You see, my ex-wife left me twice. The last time, thankfully, for good, but the first time was years ago, before she was my wife.
I was living in Chicago at the time, in a suburb named Mount Prospect. She and I had been involved, in the Bibilcal sense, for a little over a year. She’d left her second husband, though not divorced him, and was lonely. I had obligations to my Masonic Lodge that predated her by several years. In fact, I was in position for a fairly rare opportunity to lead the Lodge, as Master, for a year at a very young age. She, however, wanted me to drop everything and move down to Texas for her. Obviously, being who I am, I told her I couldn’t do that and, if what we had meant anything, she could wait another year. After all, I figured it would be for a lifetime once I got there. What happened next should have been a red flag to me.
She started getting extra friendly with a guy from work. She and her daughter went to the beach with him and his daughter. They ate lunch together and more. It didn’t take long for the bells and whistles to go off for me. I asked her to stop seeing him and she gave me the old line about needing to get out and have friends. Friends, sure, but this guy was after a whole lot more than that and I told her so. She told me that I was just being controlling and jealous. That escalated until, finally, I was given the boot because I just was holding on “too tightly” and being “too controlling and jealous”. Before we were done, I told her exactly what he was after and how he’d get it. I knew because, in college, I’d seen or tried to do the same thing.
Fast forward about six weeks. I’ve become the Master of my Lodge and I’m already swamped with work. Pile on all the changes that were going on at my job, which made me the head network and support “go to” guy and I hardly had time to eat, much less check phone messages or e-mail. One Saturday night, I go over to my parents to eat and do laundry, as I often did. Since I was single and had nothing better to do, I stayed later than I intended and was too tired to check e-mail when I got home. So, I let it go until the morning. I don’t know how many e-mails I had from my ex-wife, but, let’s just say, more than one. And, since this was back in the days when everyone still used modems, when I got done checking e-mail, I had phone messages waiting for me. Again, more than one. More than one tear-soaked, blubbering, snot-bubble-blowing, barely coherent phone message, begging me to take her back. Oh, the litany of how I’d been right and how she’d been wrong was long and flowery and moving. And, like the fool I was, I took her back.
Later, I found out she’d left this “prize” because he’d been with prostitutes, was a self-confessed pedophile and had allegedly forced himself on her sexually. I often wonder if she’d have come back to me if he’d been less messed up. Would it have been such a mistake on her part? Or, would I have been, as I am to her now, Satan incarnate. See, the irony is, not long after she was promising to love me forever and do anything to make the relationship work, she was also telling me that she wasn’t comfortable with seeing me right away, either. She was wrong, she claimed, but she had to put limits and restrictions on our relationship so that it was “safe” for her. Yeah, that was red flag number two.
But, no, I still turned a blind eye to that and we met in San Francisco during the Folsom Street Fair to “make up”. And, so we did. Now, flash forward to this time last year, when that all played out again, the only way it could have. Only this time, if she comes back, I’m calling the police to have her removed from my property.

I try not to think too much about what my life would be like if I’d only held firm back in the Summer of ’97 . But, I do still wonder sometimes. Would I be happier than I am? Would I be better off? Well, maybe I would and maybe not. I’d like to say that I’m older and wiser now, but, mainly, I’m just older and not wise at all. I get like that at this time of year. The new year is approaching and so is my birthday. I find myself looking at where I am and how I got here. It’s never where I thought I’d be and the path is never the one I would have chosen, but I keep plodding on.
What else is there to do?