Diary of a Network Geek

Okay, that’s not what the article is called, but it might as well be.

Some time back, MSN ran an article called The Art of the Pickup, which was all about how to hit on someone in a coffee shop.  And, now you all have it, just in time for the weekend.

Happy hunting!

Life is about passion.

Tomorrow, there will be a post that links to an article about meeting someone in a coffee shop. No, I haven’t met someone! Rather, it’s an article about how to meet someone. I tend to associate that sort of thing with passion. The passion of need, of possession. Of two becoming one. But, I have to be honest, my idea of passion has always included more than that.

Okay, sure, you’re thinking “Hey, a divorced, middle-aged, white guy who makes a living by being geekier than the average geek survives cancer and thinks he’s suddenly qualified to ramble on about passion”, right? Well, it’s not that. I’ve been hurting for something to be passionate about since the sixth grade. Oh, I get obsessed with things, sure. Some small, obscure subject will fascinate me for a few weeks or months and I’ll go through a cycle of knowing as much as I can about whatever it is before it bores me and it becomes something that gathers metaphorical dust in the attic of my mind, if I’m lucky. If I’m not lucky, it gathers actual dust on my coffee table. This is how I account for my owning both the complete, original John Byrne run of Alpha Flight, the collected Prisoner, the Dune Encyclopedia and Space: Above and Beyond. It’s also how I learned Perl and Linux and wrote plugins for WordPress. That same cycle is how I learned about survival, security, self-defense, koi, philosophy, and just about anything else interesting that I know. But, none of it really lasts. It’s just a flash of white-hot passion, then it’s gone.

What I long for, what I’ve always longed for, is something that makes me feel passionate forever. And, yes, I thought I had that when I was married, but, well, it turned out that passion was misplaced. So, now I wonder if all of it was misplaced. If it was all a useless, empty quest to find passion that is impossible to grasp. Before I met my ex-wife, I felt that passion about my work, but, after losing a job that was my life, I discovered work was just a job. So, now, I’m left searching, seeking, hunting that elusive passion which seems so slippery.

So, in spite of what you’ll read in this space tomorrow, I don’t ever want to sink all that passion into a person, of either sex, again.  And, any thing or activity that I allow myself to be passionate about again will have to be something that can’t be taken away from me.  Work comes and goes.
But writing…  Well, if I were to lose this blog, this laptop that I’m writing from, I could still write.  A cheap notebook and stub of a pencil stolen from Ikea is enough.  The words, the hammering out of the words, sentences, paragraphs, that takes no special tools, only, well, the passion.  So, too, God.  Even fewer tools to seek God.  I can find His presence anywhere, anytime.  Again, what matters is the passion for the spiritual connection, the seeking God’s presence.  But, how?  What to write?  How to find God?  What step to take next?

Who knows?  I suppose I’ll find out if I keep after it, that search for passion.  So, dear readers, what makes you light up with that passion for living?  What gets you out of bed in the morning?

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"There are three ways to get something done: do it yourself, employ someone, or forbid your children to do it."
   --Monta Crane

I dreamt of Nerf machine guns last night.

I had some truly strange and disturbing dreams this weekend. Last night, I was dreaming of the Nerf machine gun that I wrote about here. I think that was in part due to all the time I’ve spent recently looking at the DragonCon Flickr Pool. It’s filled with pictures of really cool costumes.  You may have to dig in a little deep to find them, but there are tones of pictures of storm troopers and HALO soldiers.  Very, very cool.  But, it’s really gotten my imagination going about costumes and creating them and making Nerf guns into something for costumes.  So, see, it’s actually kind of logical.

What’s harder to explain is the dream I had about my ex-wife.
I dreamt that my ex-wife had screwed up her fourth, and current, marriage and was moving back to Houston and, for some extremely strange reason, had called me on the phone.  I don’t know why, or what we had been talking about, but I was making sympathetic noises, giving her a full share of pity for how she’d screwed up her life more and worse.  I don’t recall offering to help, or even wanting her anywhere near me, but, somehow, I still felt sympathetic to her for being in a place of personal pain.  It didn’t matter why, really, or who she’d been to me, but I felt a certain amount of sympathy for her position of having nothing and no one.  Just as one human being to another.
I found the whole thing profoundly disturbing.  I mean, I really can’t think of anything worse than having her back in Houston, much less calling me on the phone.

After telling a friend about it, he offered that maybe it was just a sign that I’d moved to an emotional place where I could forgive her, in some way, for what happened and how she handled it.  I’d like to think so, but I suspect that it’s something even simpler than that.  I’m just lonely for that “special someone” in my life and, in some sick, strange way, she represents marriage or married life to me.
Of course, that might also explain why I’m not even actively looking for anyone.  I mean, with a marriage like that, who needs cancer?

Eh, who knows.  Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.  Maybe they were both just random firing of neurons.  Just dreams.

As a terminally single person, I think we should throw off the bonds of servitude to an empty, consumer holiday and rename St. Valentine’s Day.

You see, not only is this a day that greeting card companies crafted into a reason to waste money on cards, flowers and candy for someone who should love you without all that junk, but it was also a very important day in Chicago history. Today is the day when, in 1929, Al “Scarface” Capone gathered together seven of his closest friends and gunned them down. Yep, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Old Al was clever, too. Not only did he get seven of his arch rival’s men together, but he dressed his hired guns up as police officers so that if they were spotted any witnesses would assume everything was under control because the police were already there! Yes, sir, that Al sure was an innovator.
So, as you shell out your hard-earned cash for disposable junk that will most likely go to waste, or waist, as the case may be, remember how they used to celebrate St. Valentine’s Day in the old days. For those of us who have been single more often than we’ve been involved on this “happy” holiday, it sort of feels about the same, doesn’t it?

Something else to keep in mind this year as you wallow in artificial romance, the saint for whom this day is named was a martyr. What does that mean to you and me? Well, it means that Saint Valentine was beaten almost to death and then beheaded on this day. Later he went on to perform miracles and all that to become a saint, but, today is the day we celebrate the fact that a hired mob worked him over pretty well with clubs and then chopped his head right off. Sort of sounds like how love feels for some of us about this time of year, doesn’t it?

Hey, all joking and dark humor aside, I hope everyone has a nice day today, whether they have someone to share it with or not.

Well, we’ve just started the new year and I already have medical adventures to report for the year.

First, this past Friday my cardiologist finally reviewed my ultrasound and relayed through an assistant that my blood clots seem to have finally disappeared. So, not only do I no longer have to worry about a heart or lung embolism, not to mention a stroke, but I have come off the blood thinners. Yea! I can actually feel the difference already.

Secondly, I have the first of four scans coming up next month. Specifically, Thursday, March 13th, I’m scheduled for a CAT scan. And, I have three more after that this year, so there will be plenty of radioactive material to drink. Not to mention the barium enemas!

And, finally, in non-medical news, but just as sad…
I’m on the verge of becoming a celibate monk. No, really. Match.com was nice and all, but there were too many easy ways to rule myself out before even approaching someone. And, sadly, the reverse was true, too. I can’t seem to meet single women who aren’t off limits, for one reason or another, at church. Married women show up all the damn time, but single? Not so much.
So, unless, gentle readers, you have been hiding all your single, female, not-crazy friends, dating seems like a bleak wasteland to me. No, more like a bleak post-Apocalyptic, Australian landscape filled with ravenous hordes of zombies. Well, perhaps not quite that bad, but damn close.
Ah, well, there’s always eHarmony!

I have a moral dilemma to pose for my readers.

Now, before I get too far, yes, this is directly applicable to my life, but, no, I’m not going into details on that. I’ve generalized the scenario to protect the innocent, and me.

Okay, so, here’s the scenario…
Say you’ve given up on the on-line dating thing because it’s too easy to find reasons to eliminate people based on silly criteria, like height and what book they last read, right? And, naturally, all the people you know are married or at least involved with someone. Well, except for that one person. Now, let’s assume that you know for sure that they like you and would go out with you if you asked. But, there’s a catch. It would make things socially uncomfortable for you and others to actually date, no matter how things worked out. Maybe it’s because that person is a friend’s ex, or just someone that a good friend really, really doesn’t like, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it would be hard for you to date them because of your social circumstances.
Now, do you tell your friends to “get over it” and go ahead and date them? Or, do you let your co-dependence with your friends keep you from pursuing your potential happiness? And, is it fair to that person you want to date to put them in that position? I mean, if they’re your friends, they’d cope, right? And, if the person you want to date really is into you, they’d be willing to take the heat, right? But, is that how it would really go down?

So, what do you think?

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"There is no pit so deep that Jesus is not deeper still."
   --Corrie Ten Boom

I have learned to accept certain things about my life.

I accept that I will never have children of my own.
I very much wanted them and I know I would have made a good father, but it just doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me. So, I’ll be Uncle Jim to all my friends’ kids. I’ll have toys at my house and be the cool, pseudo-uncle that they all love to come visit. And, until they breed, I’ll be the best uncle I can be to my own niece and nephews.

I accept that I will probably die alone.
In the end, don’t we all? I mean, even if there’s someone there with us, we really still die alone. Thanks to the same cancer treatment that sterilized me, I’ll live more than long enough to get my affairs in order, to get out of debt and pre-pay for my funeral and cremation. Hell, I may even get one of those Star Trek urns to be buried in.
I try to keep hope alive and an open mind and all that, but, really, I just have a hard time seeing myself with anyone. I have a hard time picturing anyone who’s interested in being with me. My last hope of possibly starting something with the cute, red-headed federal parole officer pretty well died last night. I overheard part of something that I shouldn’t have and it sounded an awful lot like someone saying “she” wasn’t interested in “him”. And, yes, while that doesn’t mean much, I took it as significant that the two people stopped talking when I walked up and wouldn’t explain further when I asked. I’ll grant that the world doesn’t revolve around me, but, well, sometimes it’s not my ego talking, you know? I don’t think it was in this case.
So, anyway, my point is, if not her, then who? There just isn’t anyone else even on my radar and I got so tired of the bullshit with Match.com that I canceled that last week. I don’t know. I suppose I can always hope for that miracle to happen.

I accept that I’ll never be a famous author.
Sure, I might be the number one hit on Google for Network Geek, but that’s not really fame, is it? And, is this blog even really writing? I may write fiction and even publish it, but I just don’t see myself ever being famous or winning awards. Maybe it’s just the antibiotics and blood thinners talking, but I definitely see myself living a modest life of obscurity. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Hell, most people don’t get more than that and damn few get that far. At least, at the level of comfort that I enjoy. And, as I sit here typing this on a laptop with my feet propped up next to my digital camera looking at a Japanese sci-fi movie on my HDTV, I am more than aware of just how comfortable I am.

It’s a good life.
It may not be what I imagined or what I dreamed of, but it’s a damn good life and I’ve lived far better than I had any right to expect. I’m lucky, really, to be alive at all.
It really is a good life.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"If you can't annoy somebody, there's little point in writing."
   --Kingsley Amis

When marrying, ask yourself this question: Do you believe that you will be able to converse well with this person into your old age? Everything else in marriage is transitory.
Friedrich Nietzsche

I know someone who thinks she’s getting married. It may sound pessimistic, but I think differently.

So, there’s this former receptionist from my office, C. She and this other guy from work have been alternately going out or breaking up or fighting like Arabs and Israelis for most of a year now. Somehow, because I showed more than a little interest in her when she first started, I got sucked into this. Now, mainly, I try to maintain my status as a somewhat interested observer, but I don’t always manage it. She tells me one thing and then I hear something different at work. Now, it seems, after calling it quits a couple of weeks ago, this guy has asked her to marry him. At least, that’s what C. has told me. I think she earnestly believes that’s what’s going to happen, but I don’t. Or, at least, I hope not for both their sakes.

Oh, sure, there’s lots of passion in this relationship and I can tell you from first-hand experience, that passion can be powerful stuff. But, it also lies. It shouts in your ear, telling you that this is the ONE, regardless of all their faults. It bellows about the intensity of two hearts beating as one in a raging forest fire of shared desire. But, to do that, it yells and screams over those little voices that tell you something’s wrong. That she smokes too much or that he pays too much attention to other women. Passion drowns out all those very logical and reasonable voices that tell you you’re making a mistake. And, I’m afraid that C. doesn’t hear those tiny voices over the roar of her amniotic ocean.

On the other hand, take my friends J and L.
Now, these two have something that runs deeper than simple passion. I’ll grant you, I haven’t been privy to all their trials and tribulations of blending two lives together, but I know enough. And, of course, there was the whole “cold-feet” incident around Christmas. It was a close thing, their marriage. But it was different, in part because of the doubts.

You see, doubt really is healthy. When I got married, I was very, very sure that it was the right thing and that everything could be overcome and would work out for the best. And, all the other platitudes one hears about that passionate, erotic love. But, there is no amount of passion that can overcome a huge gap in values or in the value found in another person. You see, The Queen of the Damned and I had different ideas about what to value and how to show it. In the end, we both felt the other was taking us for granted and getting more than they gave. I’m honestly not sure who was right there, if anyone was, but the perception is what matters.
And, that’s why I think J and L will make it, ultimately, but C and her dream won’t. J and L see each other for who they are and value that. Not in spite of their short-comings or flaws, but because of them. Because they can see that most glorious thing in each other, a friend. Someone they look forward to spending time with, but are not consumed by. Now, I would imagine that, being newlyweds, they have to work a bit at the not being consumed. It’s tricky to find that balance between being a couple and being individuals and I admire the work that they put into doing that.

I’m thankful that I know them and can see the relationship they’re still developing. I’m honored that they invite me into a part of that world they’ve created together. They’re far from perfect, but, without realizing it, I think they’ve become the model after which I hope to build my own future relationship, or relationships. (Hey, I’m a realist! For me, there’ll probably be more than one before I find a good fit. I’m an acquired taste!) They give me hope that things can work out differently in my future than they did in my past.

That quote at the beginning, by the way, was something I was going to say at J and L’s wedding, in the toast that I didn’t get to make because I was in the hospital.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"It is never too late to be what you might have been."
   --George Elliot

No, not my house.

Though, that is a fair way to describe my house right now, I meant me. I’m the dating/relationship equivalent of a “fixer-upper”. Sometimes, I think that’s a good thing, but others… Well, let’s just say that, two years after my divorce, I’m about as open to change as a man can be. Personal change that is. I’m willing to accept that there are some fundamental things wrong with the way I approach relationships and dating and, yes, even sex, and I’m willing to consider alternatives. Oh, I’m sure I could spin that as an asset, but is it? Do you really want to date a “project”?

Think of the possibilities here, ladies. A man who’s willing to be molded, to a certain extent, into a “better” person. Who’s ready for a little “behavior modification”. Willing to listen, really listen, to you tell him what’s wrong with him and suggest solutions. Of course, just listing what’s wrong with me, or us, and not suggesting possible solutions is how I ended up divorced, so that’s something to bear in mind. I don’t do well with people crtisizeing me without adding suggestions. And, change takes time, so patience is a virtue.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Real happiness is when you marry a girl for love and find out later she has money."

Sometimes, oil and water just don’t mix.

So, after a busy couple of weeks and not hearing from S., the girl from Match.com who contacted after more than six months, I finally got a reply e-mail from her.  At first, I’d thought it was an e-mail problem of some kind that was blocking incoming e-mail from her domain, but I verified that it was working with someone else.  Before I did that, however, I sent her an e-mail that indicated I was having some e-mail issues and I included my phone number.

Naturally, I got a response back telling me that her junk mail controls had grabbed that and she’s only just now seen it.  So, can anyone guess what her response was to my suggesting we get together this week?  Yeah, she’d started seeing someone else a couple of weeks ago and wanted to pursue that.  But, she wanted to stay friends, etcetera.  Of course.  Sure.  What else, right?  Well, rather than reply right away, I waited over night to think about it.  Good thing, too.

So, this morning, I send her a quick note saying, in essence, that it was probably best.  After all, things hadn’t really worked out the first time, so there wasn’t any real reason to expect them to work out now, right?  Right.  Well.  All that means, really, is that I’ll be back on my original plan of looking seriously at dating sometime after Christmas.  I figure finding some one off Match.com is like looking for work.  No one really changes jobs, or partners, until after the holidays anyway.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Sometimes a winner is just a dreamer who never gave up."