Darkness is not my friend

My entire building has been without power since Sunday. I thought it was because of the storms – which have been violent here for the past couple of days – but grew suspicious when I noticed others in the surrounding buildings enjoying their gloriously illuminated apartments. I attempted to corner a building security guard in an effort to question him about the problem, but he proved to be more evasive than I had assumed a man of his size could be. Finally, yesterday evening at 9:15p.m., a handwritten sign appeared at the buildings entrance which states the following:

An electric break down in the primary cable to the main switch of the condominium has left us without electricity until at least April 30.

Mr. X electric expert is current absent, but will be working on the repairs upon his return.

Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause.

I am not feeling confident that our power will be back on by the 30^th, are you? Besides my uneasiness about this explanation, there are a number of things that are bothering me: (1) what the hell is a “break down in the primary cable”, is that a fancy way of saying the damn cable broke? Don’t sugarcoat it, if it broke it broke; (2) is Mr. X seriously the only man of the whole fucking island who can fix the “break down”? I know it is a small place, but this if absurd; and (3) I love how they assume this whole incident may or may not be an inconvenience – sure, besides the fact that everything in my freezer has now spoiled (my fridge stopped working long ago, so no need to fret about that), I can not cook, have no hot water, can not see a damn thing, and am now living in a hot box, everything is peachy, no problems here!

All that being said, I realize that the building is not trying to be without power, so I am not blaming them per se, but still, this is ridiculous for so many reasons.

Tic-Toc

He can taste freedom in the salt laden air, but remains bound by obligation. Each and every weekday he pulls his exertion ready body out of bed only to plant it firmly behind a sea of paper and computers. He watches the hours tick by, and wonders -- often aloud -- how it came to this. How does a man who spends every waking hour contemplating different ways to physically exert himself end up motionlessly locked behind a desk? The simple act of rising for coffee is an exciting experience – at least movement is a component. It kills him to wish his days away, but Monday through Friday is a chore, and he wants nothing more than to see them pass. To most, a year consists of 365 days; he sees only 104 – the days he can break free and enjoy life the only way he knows how.

What more can you ask for?

I strongly question my ability to be unhappy, angry, depressed, or lonely when I can wake up, walk onto my patio and meet this sight head on. This right here is all I ever dreamed about as a child, yet I let it go largely unnoticed. Having spent the last two days hunkered down out here, just watching and listening, I have resolved to not let this be another thing I sought, but failed to appreciate once obtained.

Now if I could only convince my wife, the girls, best friend and a few other hanger-ons to move here, life would be perfect.

One bite at a time...

While not sexy, I thought I would share with you my food consumption between Saturday morning at 3:45 a.m. and Sunday night at 9:23 p.m. – the official start and end to my weekend.

Before launching in, I believe a foundation is necessary (otherwise the below just seems weird). I run a lot. For example, I have run roughly 840 miles so far this year – not an incredible amount, but enough to keep me hungry. More specifically, this weekend, between my Saturday and Sunday morning runs, I logged 55 miles; as you can imagine, I am a walking stomach. Now that you understand where I am coming from, below is what I can remember from my eating frenzy:

4 – pieces of cinnamon raisin toast (“CRT”);

5 – peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches on CRT;

1 – medium size-jar of crunchy peanut butter (this includes the PBJ’s, but finished the remaining off with a spoon);

2 – packages of swiss-cheese eaten with multigrain crackers;

9 – Quaker chewy granola bars (6 of which were eaten while running);

3 – power-gels (all of which were taken while running);

3 – Annie’s vegetarian burritos (rice and beans; rice, beans, and cheese; beans and vegetable);

1 – three servings of rice, one bunch of bok choy and a block of extra firm tofu;

1 – brunch buffet consisting of two helping of scrambled eggs, toast with nutella, three fruit bowls, third of a ring of brie, a cup of three-bean medley, and four glasses of orange juice;

1 – bowl of ice cream;

1 – can of tomato soup with spaghetti noodles and grilled cheese sandwich;

1 – Snickers bar;

1 – dove dark chocolate bar;

1 – bag of pretzel ropes;

1 – bag of sugar-coated vanilla wafers;

1 – bag trail mix;

1 – Nestle chocolate milk;

1 – trip to Costco during sample hour;

2 – protein drinks;

4 – Gatorades;

4 – Vitamin Waters;

1 – 20oz Pepsi (drank while running);

2 – beers;

? – cups of coffee;

? – gallons of water.

Notwithstanding, I am two pound lighter today that I was on Saturday morning.

Hi mom!

The communications have once again ceased. Last time, I actually questioned the reason for the silence, and racked my brain for anything I may have said or done that would have offended them into muteness. This time, however, I can safely aver that they are just too lazy to pick up the phone and check on their son.

I am all blocked up

I have a vicious case of writer’s block, so am going to just scribble a few things out, sorry.

Yesterday, as I crested a tortuous hill during the first half of my run, I came face to face with a sunrise that was just beginning to peak through the clouds, and over an old military fort on the Island. That sight, coupled with the song The End from the Man on Fire soundtrack, brought me to tears. It was the closest thing to a spiritual moment I have had in years; I hope that moment never leaves me.

She is forty, but is a social child. Every time I talk with her, I regret it. Either she makes a sexually suggestive comment about me in front of others, or questions my every word. If it were socially acceptable, I would tie her to a pole and throw tacks at her throughout the day.

We added two new members to our family this weekend – the boys (http://aloneontheisle.blogspot.com/2008/01/confessions.html), as you can imagine, are beside themselves with excitement.

My fateful bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch (see post below) not only cost me $700 in dental bills, but will rob me of two hours of my life ever Friday for the next three weeks. That being said, I feel compelled to admit that I have forgiven RBC – and am once again enjoying its crunchy, yet sweet, delightfulness.

I find that I am an “honest” writer when I am too tired to self-edit – If I am cognizant of my words, I fear that I will hurt others, and therefore refrain. Is there a fix, or am I doomed to sleepless nights?

10 a.m. dentist appointment, a fucked up way to start a Friday

My tooth broke today. It snapped in half while I was eating a cup of Raisin Bran Crunch. It is my favorite cereal. I said yesterday that my age had not yet caught up with me. This was not the confirmation I was looking for.

Just curious

I wonder if your daily mishaps -- despite your Ivy League education -- are as frustrating to you as they are humorous to me.

Random thoughts

Here are a few things I have been thinking about over the past few weeks. As you can tell, there is neither rhyme nor reason to the following, simply things I have been thinking about.

I am afraid that the two best political candidates we have seen in many years are going to so damage each other that neither will recover. I hope I am wrong.

I do not miss drinking, but I crave socializing with people my age, and cannot figure out how to do that outside of bars (and I am not a look but don’t touch kind of guy).

I look ridiculous in short running shorts. Some people can pull is off – I am not one of them. I am tall, hairy, and nearly transparent in the high thigh area – the public should be spared.

As important as I would like to think I am at my job, I could be replaced within 48 hours, and my office would not skip a beat.

Sometime I wish they would test my 48 hour theory.

I am where cell phones go to die.

In my opinion, the Supreme Court is moving scarily to the right; if something doesn’t change, and quick, drastic changes are on the horizon.

I question seriously the level of drivers training on this island.

The daily loving touch of another human being is grossly underrated. I know, I long for it constantly (and I am not talking about sex).

Does it look like John McCain has aged dramatically since the start of the Presidential campaign? In all honesty, if he dropped dead tomorrow I would not be shocked.

On April 13th, you will spend your 30th birthday in a foreign land, I will not be there, and it is killing me.

Toenails serve no good purpose; as I have proven repeatedly, you can function normally without them.

I try not to admit it – because there is no real end in sight – but I am tired of running, and just want to take one full week off.

And finally, while I have not written part III to The Devil yet, I have been thinking about it constantly.

Worth the read

I have previously directed readers to different blogs – and whether you read them or not is up to you (there is no reason to take my word as what you should and should not do in your free time) – but if you have not read those blogs/sites, please, if you do nothing else, read the site I am attaching below.

It was a blog written by Andrew Olmstead, an active duty soldier who was recently killed in Iraq. It is one of the most incredible things I have ever read, especially the final posthumous entry – It brought me to tears, and made me rethink my own existence. I wish I had something more to say, but I don’t, so here it is.

http://www.andrewolmsted.com/

You may be confused

“It’s nice to finally meet a respectfully, well rounded man” she said. I just smiled, wondering silently how she got that impression.

The Devil pt. 2

Our second year “together” began promisingly enough. For the first few weeks, it appeared as though she was ready and willing to dedicate herself to me. We spent quality time with each other, I met her family, interacted with her high school friends, and, for the first time, was introduced as her boyfriend. I was in heaven. It was not to last.

As the herd from the previous summer slowly crept back into the picture, I was again the odd man out. She began to spend an obnoxious amount of time with individuals I had once counted as my best friends; punctuated by an awkward moment spent between my girlfriend and my former comrade in a bathroom. To this day, the true happenings of that evening remain a mystery.

As I fought to maintain my foothold in her life, the summer came crashing to an end, capped by her departure to a foreign land on my nineteenth birthday.

I would like to say I was able to regain my confidence in her absence – but it would be a lie. From the moment she stepped on that plane, until the time she finally broke my heart beyond the point of repair, I pined for her, eagerly counting down the minutes until I could once again hold her in my arms.

Led by my blind faith, I purchased a ticket to visit her abroad. My only free time was during the Christmas and New Years break of 1998 – I packed my bags, kissed the family goodbye, and disappeared. It was my brother’s last holiday.

While the trip had its ups, I remember it more for the downs. She was moody, indecisive, and generally annoyed by my presence. Regardless, I left very much in love.

After my turbulent visit, I returned to the states as determined as ever to prove my worthiness. I spent hours in the gym in a pathetic attempt to impress her with a muscular transformation. I wrote letter, made phone calls, and drove myself deeper into debt. There was no limit to my love.

My brother passed away within months of my visit. In my time of need, I turned to her for support. She returned that gesture by cheating on me, justifying it by explaining that I had failed to give her the support she needed. I was despondent. Thankfully, but regrettably, my female friend from high school stepped up to save me (http://aloneontheisle.blogspot.com/2007/09/another-in-long-line.html). I swore, right then and there, that I would never let her back into my life. I would, as always, falter.

The Devil Pt. 1

To say I was smitten at first sight would be an understatement. She was everything I thought I wanted – confident, sexy, and experienced. I had no clue at that moment of the destructive effect she would have on my life.

We worked together at a large retail store; she was a receptionist, I was a cart attendant. My friends saw her first, and immediately set out to gain her attention. I should have backed off – they were my best friends. But regardless of the possible ramifications, I could not control myself. For the first time in my life, I saw something I was willing to mortgage my future to obtain. Once she figured this out, I was a goner, and I didn’t even realize it. Over the following months, she masterfully played my friends and I off each other, slowly destroying the relationships we had spent a life time constructing. From this experience, we would never recover, but that is for another time.

Once friendless, I was completely beholden to her. Forced to befriend her clan, I came to rely on her for everything but the air I breathed.

During the first year we were “together”, she hooked up with no less than seven men in front of me; each time blaming me for not being enough of a man to keep her happy. I dutifully responded each and every time by spending more money, time and effort to meet each and every one of her needs and desires. Sinking so low as slink out of her bedroom when other men would come calling. I was ashamed of myself for devolving into a helpless puppy, but believed her with every ounce of my being when she said she was trying to figure things out.

When others would get wise, and cast her aside, I was the one she called to comfort her. This cycle repeated itself at an alarming rate. Shockingly, and to my great surprise, as our first year at college came to an end, and the steady stream of men had dried to a trickle -- either sick of her childish games, or gone for summer -- she informed me that she would let me be her “exclusive” boyfriend until she boarded a plane for a foreign land the following fall. I thought my perseverance had finally paid off. As time would tell, I was horribly wrong.

Fuck them for making you worry like this.

It will work out, you will come out of this on your feet, and you will continue to be a ray of sunlight in our lives.

Good things come to those who wait

I could taste her long before she acknowledged my existence. For months I planned, mapping her nakedness throughout the days. As I injected myself into her existence, I felt her goodness, but sensed her will faltering. She was ignorant of her body’s desires, but I knew, deep in my being, that she wanted nothing more than to have me ravage her. Patience, sexual tension, and years of loneliness were all I needed to push past her moral moat. She is the crown jewel of my life’s conquests – a victory to savor, cherish, and revel in for a lifetime.

The countdown begins

I shrug it off, but underneath, I am deathly afraid that I am going to head off into the mountains, be consumed by the trail and staggering elevation, and fall flat in my pursuit of running splendor – forced instead to slink home with nothing but a bruised ego to show for my efforts. Everyday I push myself to the breaking point, and am continually amazed at just how much my body is able to endure – but remain unconvinced that I can will myself to gut out the nine hours it will take to complete this idiotic test of endurance. Consequently, I train harder, longer, and with more intensity – knowing that if I am unsuccessful, it will not be because I neglected to take the necessary steps, but because I finally found my body’s outer limit. Sixty days and counting.

In my dreams you are alive – a bright eyed, wondrous young man with a world of hope in front of him. I only wish I knew how to make those nights last forever.

This is not a game

I am overly competitive. I know this, and do all I can to keep it under control. However, if challenged, I will do everything humanly possible to prevail, regardless of the ramifications to my victims personal and/or professional life. You know this, having previously acknowledged the crazed look that flashes when my guard is down. As should be obvious, I am trying to hold it together, and protect you; but you keep pushing, poking, prodding, and tempting me to make your life a living hell – I advise you stop.

Just another day at the office

The thought of tortuously removing the grin from his contemptible face with a series of strategically placed paper cuts has helped me get through the day – I may have a problem.

Self-Promotion Part II

Another shameless self-promotion: http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/2008/02/simple-pleasures.html.