When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Monday, March 31, 2008

Fellow Matchedeers

I got a hit from someone doing a search on Google Blogs for "Match.Com". I thought it was a good idea. So I followed their search and saw what they saw. I want to post the links here. The stories are fascinating. I'll probably leave some Comments at some of the blogs as well. Shucks, we're all in this sauce together, after all...

Ned; I left a comment.

LisaQ; She tells a troubling tale. Is in Kansas.

Not so happy.

A Work In Progress; Seems like she's looking at some success. (Last paragraph)

; More success! With a Match date AND with lymphoma recovery! God bless her!

Devvdev; Their Current mood: hopeful, followed by more supportive facts.

Cooper Abby; Quoting a "Kathryn B. Lord". I can't tell if Cooper is male or female, and if it were she/he who met their husband Drew on Match in 1998, or Kathryn. Either way, the article makes good sense. Particularly this snippet;

"Either you have been doing something (singles events, let’s say, or trying to let others know that you are interested) or you have been doing nothing. “Something” is more likely to have results than “nothing,” but neither have “worked” in that you haven’t gotten a mate yet, or you wouldn’t be asking the question “Does Internet dating work?”

"So let’s redefine “work.” What Internet dating does better than any other method I know is that it exposes you to a very large group of other singles and helps you sort them into the likeliest category for potential partnerhood with you. How well does “doing nothing” compare with that? For that matter, how well does “doing something” other than Internet dating compare? "

A Happy Cynic
; At first I was offended (her blog title isn't the best encouragement), but I figured if I wrote as badly as the Match ads that she's cited, then I'd have to laugh at my own self. I left her a comment and kept on steppin'. :-)

; Not actually about Match at all, but sidesplittingly funny. Yup. Gotta learn to laugh at myself going into all this because I'm putting my cakes out there on the line now. This blog has been a warm-up for that, but you guys have been extraordinarily supportive, and dare I say loving to me in your ride-a-longs. I have to gear up for more rejection and possibly some ridicule. I might have to blubber and boo-hoo back here for a bit, but I trust you guys will send me back out with a hug?

; Now HERE'S a success story! 3200 views since January!!! And she. like so many of you, writes like a house afire. I left more than just a comment and I'm bookmarking her site. I highly recommend! Nevertheless, her Matchness hadn't much to say on the 'Net dating experience in that post.

So, this is me, handling the vague stress-ish adventure of Re-Matchedeering. I hope I don't get raped...

Oooooooohhh Snap!

This just in!! I was shot down by one of the 3 ladies to whom I wrote for happy fun date times. It was the polite form letter rejection, so that's alright then. According to her profile, I'm 3 years above her age requirements.

Okay, so I've learned after my cookies expired that you need a Match Dot Com account to be able to see my profile. It's so dramatic! When you click on a link to it, you get this blocker page that entices you to sign up to read more about "HIM". Tee hee. I'm "HIM".

So I'm going to post here the pertinent information;

about me and who I'm looking for:

I'm described as a good, fun-loving guy, which must be true since I like to laugh. I'm looking for someone who wants to come laugh with me. Let's carve out some "us" time--make ourselves a no-stress zone in the middle of New York! We deserve it! :-D

for fun:
I'm a hobbyist writer and have a dramatized audio adventure which is online even as you're reading this!

favorite hot spots:

Coffee or tea shop, in a corner where the plush furniture is. Near the brickwork wall, under the speakers where Morcheeba, Sade, or Alison Krause is playing.

favorite things:
Right now, I'm hooked on eclairs from Hot & Crusty. I've had other eclairs, but these are by far the best. So, yeah. Food is my favorite thing (for now). Theater is making a comeback too.

last read:
I'm finishing "Wicked" by Gregory Maguire. Finished "T is for Trespass" by Sue Grafton. And I'm caught up on at least 7 monthly Marvel and DC titles.


* Black


* Brown

Best Feature:

*No answer

(Every choice here was a body part. My best feature was actually not listed. ;-) That's right, I said it!)

Body art:

* None

Sports and exercise:

* Swimming,
* Walking / Hiking

Exercise habits:

* Exercise 3-4 times per week

Daily diet:

* Meat and potatoes


* Book club/Discussion,
* Coffee and conversation,
* Cooking,
* Dining out,
* Hobbies and crafts,
* Movies/Videos,
* Museums and art,
* Music and concerts,
* Nightclubs/Dancing,
* Performing arts,
* Religion/Spiritual


* Graduate degree


* Other profession


* (omitted now on the actual profile too. Didn't know therapists made so little, right?)


* English


* Middle of the Road


* Don't display my sign

My Place:

* Live with roommate(s)

Pets I have: No answer
Pets I like:

* Cats,
* Fish

Well? Is it sad beyond all reason? Did the rejecting madame laugh herself into an oxygen-deprived coma, with only enough strength to choose the polite rejection letter option? Or would you give me a tumble?

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Back Into The Frying Pan

Last night I went to see a rockin' good play called "Fight Girl Battle World". It was a clever play in a small venue which made the most out of character, story, and the space they had to use. There was kickass choreography and more than a dozen instances of Laugh Out Loud moments that earns the gold star for good dialogue. (Why does my spell checkers tell me "dialogue" is improperly spelled? Can anyone suggest a better alternative?)

I went on recommendation of 1) Childhood Bud and 2) My geek friends with mad cred who run a comics podcast. It was to their studio that the geek party occurred last year. I haven't been able to coordinate all but two more meetings with that group of folks (one, really--a dinner at Hill Country. The other is me going to the place of business of an individual, and that only because he got a job at the store where I buy my comics), and none at all with the podcasters themselves.

So last night, I went with Childhood Bud. We had an awesome time!! He detached from his wife and three children to make himself available to me, and we met in my fave naborhood, ate Indian food in a new spot I like on Amsterdam Ave, then walked 60 blocks south to the theatre! I was more than up for it when he suggested it, but round about 40 blocks into the journey, ol' Childhood Bud was making faces. I'll let him elaborate as to why, if he so chooses.

It was so awesomely great. It was nothing at all like being two men approaching our mid-forties, one of us a married father of three, the other a bachelor therapist in a midtown Manhattan office. Nothing like that. It was like being kids cut loose in NYC walking and talking and laughing and sightseeing.

I tried to throw in a little gravitas to the tone of the evening, but he would have none of it! The closest I got to my issues was to realize that Match.com is a viable alternative to my singleness. He has a co-worker who is engaged to a gal met on there. And I acknowledged Mike's engagement resulted from a Match Dot Comage.

So today, I upgraded my account, shot them some money, and e-mail three beautiful ladies, all of whom I would very much like to date.

And then what? At the moment, I have a profile that I think absolutely reeks of mental disorder. I wrote it back when I was a prisoner of misfortune in New Jersey and rediscovering heroes in the world. So mostly what I wrote sounds every bit like the crazy little man I was in someone's basement. When I applied my newfound life to the profile fields today, I thought the effects would take place immediately, like the new pics would.

Not so.

Pics are up now, but the profile word content takes up to 72 hours. That means if these three beautiful ladies read my message within the next three days, I'm toast. You'll hear their laughter from where you're sitting right now.

But at least now I realize why I didn't get any bites before.



When the frikkin' frackin' profile gets updated for realz, I'll give you a link to it.

Edit: YAY! It's updated! Okay, here I am. Match Ladies, come an' get me!

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

And This Just In From The "Dreams Come True" Dept...

A reminder (to myself) that dreams can come true. I just got this link this morning after posting last night about the fatherless kid.

Monday, March 24, 2008

And This Just In From The "Stranger Than Life, Series 8000" Dept ...

You guys know this, right? You've partied to it in your own wonderful ways, and so have I. It was created in Jan 2004. It's been a constant joy of my life.

Tonight, while chatting with a fellow comics' geek that I met at my hangout at Geek Central, I discover HE IS THE ONE WHO CREATED THIS VIDEO. This guy who I only in the last few months have come to know as a peripheral geek buddy who wanted to chat with me is the creator of something I have been using to salvage my worst moods for FOUR YEARS NOW, and have posted at the bottom of this blog right here now for HOW LONG? Tonight I'm chatting with him and he casually mentions, "oh yeah, but the way, this is my Five Minutes of Fame...", and sends me the link. In fact, I'm still chatting with him now.

This has been a monumental day.

If this can happen, right here, right now--that I would ACCIDENTALLY cross intimate paths with the creator of my favorite YouTube video EVER, how much more possible is it that I can meet ... Her?

I mean, come on.

I'm Going Straight To Hell

And this is why.

Here's the thing; I'm thinking maybe he wasn't being good to her. Being found dead is different than being killed. It's Heath Ledger all over again, except I haven't pledged undying love to Michelle Williams. I mean, if a man was arrested for supplying drugs to him, doesn't that mean that he was taking them? And if he took them, doesn't that mean ... y'kmow ... that he was a user? So maybe he wasn't that great of a husband? Like Heath and Michelle wasn't together, maybe this guy and She wasn't together? And so, tragic as it certainly is, maybe she's breathing a little easier? I mean, no, yeah, she's heartbroken now. I mean, she loved him, yeah, I get that. Most people who get married once loved who they marry, if not still, but ... drug users have issues, man. And drug users who use enough to kill them have a LOT of issues. And by the time She has worked through these issues, and has grieved, and has accepted, and is ready to love again--why, she'd be in her 30's and I ... I mean, I'd ...

...I'm going straight to hell.

Sunday, March 23, 2008


Thought I'd use the meme from a few months back to stimulate a new post with some Alan-content. (To summarize, the meme was about answering a set of questions with a song title arrived at randomly off your iPod.) Since I'm endeavoring not to end the essay up with reader-killing self-pity, I will pick one of the lighter questions to explore--

--Aw crap, I can't! Because I just saw this one in the list and its' answer;

What do you think about very often?
"Where Is The Love?" Roberta Flack & Donny Hathaway

You'll recall in my Corinne Bailey Rae worship post, I had found her duet with John Legend singing this very song. Well here it goes again, and there's not really much for me to expound on. It speaks for itself. The question was, "What do I think about very often". Despite myself, this answer is still true.

In the defense of all the loves I've loved who already had loves, none of them told me they didn't love their loves and that they were "gonna to say goodbye." So this song just represents the position I let myself get into, despite myself. Would that it were easy to just click off the switch as soon as you hear the words, "My boyfriend..."

Where Is The Love

Where is the love
You said you'd give to me
Soon as you were free?
Will it ever be?
Where is the love?

You told me that you didn't love him,
And you were gonna say goodbye.
But if you really didn't mean it,
Why did you have to lie?

Where is the love
You said was mine all mine,
'Till the end of time?
Was it just a lie?
Where is the love?

If you had had a sudden change of heart
I wish that you would tell me so.
Don't leave me hangin' on the promises.
You've got to let me know!

Oh, how I wish I never met you.
I guess it must have been my fate.
To fall in love with someone else's love.
All I can do is wait ...

(Title of this post inspired by Langston Hughes)

The Secret Lives Of Cats

Equal Time For Free Bark

The added doggie content was spurred on by Tanya's Blog!

But I must say this; the difference between cats and dogs was never more apparent. The dogs are eagerly saying words at their humans' prompting. The cats are conversating amongst themselves, almost despite the fact that a human is nearby filming. They look almost embarrassed.

I first saw that last Talking Dog compilation on America's Funniest Videos. "That last dog saying "I want my Mama!!" captured my heart way back then, and I welcome the little scrappy babyhead back!

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Wednesday, March 19, 2008


I saw this pic today at Geek Central (where I hang) and thought of you, Scott!

Besides that, I'm actually having a better morning than most. I took my sweet time getting to work, and I still haven't started yet. (Present blogging and picture-finding plantiff's Exhibit A). I finished the new spinoff series from the audio drama of my hero that none of you guys are listening to, or listened to and hated but are too kind to say so (my TS brethren/lurkers not included). It'll be up and running tomorrow. If you want to shut me up, go to the third link down from the "Arts & Drama" column to the left, then look for the link that says "B*** Flight" (except without the ***). It'll be about 37 minutes long. Then leave a comment there where you've downloaded it.


In other news, I went back to My Night Job for a visit. In attendance were Snapper, Scullery Maid, & Sexy Minx. Snapper literally dropped whatever he was doing and said, "Oh my God." As if he actually, honestly never expected to see me again. That kid. He's as open as a box of chocolates, bless his heart. And of course, one of the first things he had to ask me was "How're the ladies treatin' ya?"

Why must we do this? How do I stop looking for love if all anyone ever talks about is love? Khaaaaan!

I suddenly just wanted to grab his head and plant a ridiculously inappropriate smackeroo right on him, then say "THAT'S how." He would've shat!

Yeah, I'm feeling that self-destructive lately. I mean, I bet THAT'D get me out of this rut. I've flirted around enough with it. Why not just do the damn thing? And I betcha I'd find a dozen ready, able, and willing guys who'd want to turn me out in a heartbeat. Pass me around like a party favor. Make me feel pretty, LOL!

Why "self-destructive?" Well, because of all the things I've said before, really. And mostly because I know that I'm feeling this way because I'm pouty and mad about all these other successful hook-ups going on in spite of me. And I'm so pissed off at my own fears, and the lack of my success getting through them. And the absence of the one brave soul who could send me an e-mail and help me over this hump, and ask me out on a date.

To clarify; Yes, I could be gay. I'm aware of the attractiveness of men. And I've also never had sex with one. Never kissed one. But I was molested by a guy when I was six years old, and those are where my first memories of sexual stimulation come from--and that gender was the first experience I had. So I don't trust my perception of same-sex attraction.

In addition, I love women. My favorite sexual body attributes reside on the female body, not the male.

So that's that. Whatever woman would take a chance on this mess is going to be the queen of the universe.


Anyway, midway into my visit to My Night Job, they paged Drama Queen off her break to come see me. You'd think they were filming another episode of "Run's House" in there!

(It is actually the Barnes & Noble cafe where they filmed Ep 5, Season 1. That's my espresso machine in the background on the left, circled in red. I can let that out now that I don't work there anymore and those of you who have seen it can't come and get me, lol!) Drama Queen was clearly smitten to see me again, but she's Drama Queen, and there can only be one in a relationship. We all bantered a bit more, then I started getting uncomfortable with all the attention and bid them a fair farewell.

Then an impulse took hold of me, and I grabbed Sexy Minx and planted a kiss on her hand that caused her to squeal with utter delight. My favorite sound. I mean, she's Sexy Minx. I had no choice.

Then I went to buy "Wicked" by Gregory Maguire because Scott liked it, and I like Scott. Then he didn't like it, before I finished reading it. (But I still like him.)


Monday, March 17, 2008

Because I Sat Down For A Minute ...

Britney Spears - Piece Of Me lyrics

I heard this over the weekend and couldn't recognize the voice, so in looking up the lyrics I found this info right here on a lyrics' site. (If it's actually a porn video, I'll remove it when I get home ... y'know, after a few viewings...)

So, Britney. Is this resiliency, insanity, or a mockery of our penchant for rubbernecking?

And I'm Not Even Ashamed

I am in my office dancing to Sade and Corinne Bailey Rae. Of course, I'm doing so with the door closed because, hey, I've got a professional reputation to maintain. But I highly recommend.

Thing is, I'm doing this in order to focus on doing my work. If I just sit and try finishing my reports, I'll websurf instead and listen to comic podcasts and do nothing. This way, I'm on my feet, swaying my body, and turning reference pages. Then as I read and sway, I type the relevent info in my report documents.

Dancing! It's what's for dinner!

"Every day is Christmassss....
And every night ...
Is a New Year's EEEEeeeeeeeeeve ...

Will you keep on?
Will you keep on loving me?

Will you keep on
Bringing out the best in me ...?"

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Blue As The Sky

Okay, I'm starting the hate having posted the kind of content of yesterday's self-indulgent claptrap. (Not the Mike-stuff...the Alan-stuff). That's just so not the guy I want to be, dammit!

Today, elsewhere on the net, someone made a statement of the melancholy in their life and it spawned the lyrics of a Corinne Bailey Rae song in my head, so I gave him a few lines that specifically pertained to his statement. Even resembled it. And it actually lifted my own spirits. Maybe it's because I spend so much time in fantasyland, but when I thought about Corinne Bailey Rae again, and heard her voice singing, and remembered the crinkle of her eyes when she spreads that child's-joy smile across her face--I was reminded what love feels like. I swear to you, I actually love Corinne Bailey Rae. Okay ... put it this way ... I am blind with infatuation for her. She would be the one person that, if I ever got to meet her, I would be without speech and I'd probably just cry.

So, I just want to post her lyrics again, from my own memory (with a little help from listening to it again).

Three little birds sat on my window
And they told me I don't need to worry.
Summer came in like cinnamon (so sweet)
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.

Maybe sometimes,
We got it wrong, but it's alright.

The more things seem to change.
The more they stay the same.
Don't you hesitate...

Girl, put your records on,
Tell me your favorite song
Just go ahead let your hair down.
Sapphire and faded jeans
I hope you get your dreams
Just go ahead let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself some way.

Blue as the sky, somber and lonely,
sipping tea in a bar by the roadside (just relax...just relax)
Don't you let those other boys fool you
Gotta love that afro hairdo.

Maybe sometimes
We feel afraid, but it's alright.

The more you stay the same
The more they seem to change.

Don't you think it's strange?

GIRL! Put your records on!
Tell me your favorite song (YAY!).
You go ahead let your hair down!

Sapphire and favorite jeans!
I hope you'll get your dreams.
Just go ahaead let your hair down!

You're gonna find yourself somewhere ...
Somehow ...

T'was more than I could take
Pity, for pity's sake.
Some nights kept me awake
I thought that I was stronger.

When you gonna realize that you don't even have to try any longer?





(Baby let your hair down!)
OH put your records on, tell me your favorite song.
Just go ahead let your hair down.
Sapphire and favorite jeans. (Someone's favorite jeans...) I hope you get your dreams.

Just go ahead let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself somewhere.


And now, bonuses--

Two of my favorite songs done by Corinne and John Legend?!?!!!!

I had NO idea!!!

YouTube Comments for this one (at least I'm not alone);
blitzy16 (4 days ago)
*She has talented and is real.*

Sorry for that )=

blitzy16 (4 days ago)
I heard this song over the radio and I fell in love with her ever since. She id talented and real.

Corinne is so talented/cute that it hurts =)

She is very awesome.

entity3sf (5 days ago)
I just found out about this amazing talent. Awesome.

scsassy123m (1 week ago)

eu811101 (3 weeks ago)
totally love her and the song is my favorite

kawaii8707 (1 month ago)
well shes sold over 3million albums so she is a successful artist, i think she quite popular. mayb not as much as rihanna or beyonce bt shes nearly there- and shes unique

gr8guy8 (1 month ago) Show Hide
corrine, please marry me!

And here's one I hadn't heard much--I guess she's flying under the radar. Way too low under it. Damn the flash and glitzy music industry.
But you can't tell me this girl doesn't make your heart stutter.

Monday, March 10, 2008


I can't focus when I'm at work anymore. Not when it comes to having an internet connection and needing to do reports. I spend about .368 seconds worrying about getting the paperwork done and then I go back to 'netsurfing.

I have so many things to choose from on the internets! There's all the blogs to your left, for instance. Today I found some good stuff over there!

First of all, Mike is going to propose to his girlfriend. This is what he said about her; "B is a great woman and I am lucky to have her. I am happy when I am with her, and miss her when I am not. I am going to propose to her because I want to marry her. And I want to spend my life with her." Siggghhh... he is so fantastic. He came to this conclusion after, and probably still during, the scare of an unplanned pregnancy. It put a rush on his plans while he had expressed his desire to continue to enjoy his singlehood, but ever since his divorce, he'd been hurting for someone to love him again, and when he found B, she was the content of his blog posts. He'd found happiness again. The pregnancy almost made him forget that. But he didn't forget it. He has renamed his blog to "Starting Over Again" and that's what he plans to do. He has the courage to obey his sensitive heart. He is fantastic and I wish him all the love and happiness that his fantastic heart can possibly stand.

Secondly, I'm toiling away on the new spinoff of the audio series I'm doing. It's exciting and an awesome escape from the toils of paperwork and reality. The paperwork, I will eventually get to.

But for reality--not so much.

We admire heroes because they can do things we can't (and they look fantastic doing it). Launching across the sky in a pair of red speedos and pegging a nuclear missile with your face for the sake of the millions of people below--that's the stuff of legend.

But for me? A man who survives his divorce, is sensitive enough to cry for help and accept it, and then recovers enough strength to go back into those waters? And when those waters get rough, to still swim against the currents of fear and doubt to secure new love? To me, this is the equivalent of flight and invulnerability. This is Superman. This is what I am not. It isn't my quirks that I fear being exposed to someone significant. It isn't my geekiness. It's my cowardice.

I have a type of muscular dystrophy in my heart. It is withered and barely beating--weak and barely keeping me alive. Of course, I mean this in the emotional sense. My life support is found online, in all of your words and stories. In your acts of bravery and survival. If I can read, I can live. And too, it's in the lives of my clients. My energy grows for them. I'm made alive by their struggles for life. For them, I can move mountains. And my life support is in my stories--whether I'm writing them for a superhero, or for my friends to interact against the dragon I'm throwing at them, or in the wizard that I become once a week. If I can dream, I can live.

But I cannot act.

I'm too distracted.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

My Inner Geek

The passing of Gary Gygax has brought out the most wonderful and inspirational stories of early geek life across the internet from bloggers and audio-adventure peers. So I knew I'd be sharing mine sooner or later--I've just never really exposed my geek side here as much as I have in all points around the net. This is kind of the place that I come to try to face reality, actually.

But since I've decided to give up on love, I might as well show the fullness of my inner geek here too.

On Friday nights, I am an 11th level Master Conjurer, ala D&D 3.5 Prestige Class rules. I look forward to the chance each week to become this wizard like Q looks forward to Fringes. The name I chose for this character is the same name I first chose when I played my first game of D&D back in the early eighties. In addition, back then, that wizard had a pseudodragon familiar that I was able through the present rules to duplicate the wonder for my Friday night wizard to also have a psuedodragon. I bought a stuffed dragon so when we play, I could role play in earnest by having 'my' dragon perched on 'my' shoulder.

But slightly before I played D&D, it was me and CHILDHOOD BUD, just the two of us, playing Tunnels & Trolls!! Off my head, I dunno who made that game up, but it was like D&D lite. I devised these wan torture chambers for Childhood Bud to pace his characters through, as I tried to pop them off one by one. He and I, two black kids in a black neighborhood, hidden away in his bedroom like aliens trying to rebuild our jumpdrive so we could get the hell back to our home planet.

Then came junior high school and me trying to date DeeDee and failing miserably, and being way too in with my friend-girls to the point where my Jr.High peers (such that they were) were asking if I were gay, and my friend-girls were trying to encourage me to go spread my wings in the dating scene, and I was using fundamentalist Christianity to hide my absolute terror of sex--one day afterschool were a group of kids playing D&D at a lunch table. Well, I knew a little about it from me and Childhood Bud's forays into T&T, so I asked, and they invited me, and down I sat. Possibly the first black D&D'er in all of Spring Valley.

Oh God, such fun times. And while I tried to be the absolute best Christian the world had ever seen, I still played D&D. It was during these days that I met the lad who would grow up to become My Friend The Doctor. Eventually our guiltmongering pastor pressed my conscience into believing that God hated me if I kept playing, so I burned all my D&D books and stayed away for about a decade. Went out to Missouri to become a preacher, in fact. (With My Friend The Doctor following close behind). When it all started going pear-shaped in Missouri, and My Friend The Doctor finding his true love and growing up faster than I have yet to achieve, I'm sure something inside me said "F*CK IT." I went back to roleplaying games.

Through the One Guy who I played with WAY back in at the Junior High school lunchtable, I learned of a Westchester, NY (yes, where Charles Xavier teaches mutants. Well--taught mutants. Until he took a bullet to the melon. Ooops. Spoilers.) group that I would sit in on and play pickup characters whenever I visited NY during the summers. This was me coming back with a slice of humble pie and saying, "Hey I know I dumped you for God, but I want to play again." One Guy and his friends let me in. Out of that group I met Grim Jester.

When the Missouri days finally ended and I landed in Trenton, I became a full on player with the Westchester group. We still play to this day--but only every three weekends or so because they all "have lives". Whatever. Back then, I also started a group in Trenton NJ by trolling the yahoo forums for any takers, because my Westchester homies weren't coming fast enough with my drug. In Trenton we played for a good few years until I made my first move into NYC (and started my first blog). Then in NYC I found another group through One Guy (again) because he had moved on from the Westchester group (I didn't).

So now I play with the Westchester folks and the NYC folks.

In NY; this is how we do it--
This is the boardroom of one of our players in his midtown Manhattan workplace were we meet. That's my computer and its' wallpaper. Yes, that's My Hero on my computer.

My miniature, representing my Master Specialist (Conjurer), is the second from the left. You will see the very much smaller mini which represents my pseudodragon. I bought the stuffed dragon because I kept forgetting that I had the 'dragon to use.

These are my dice. The multicolor 6-sided ones have among their number dice from back in my Jr. High days. Yes, I spread them out like this often, and group the multi-sided ones together, because I like to look at them while there is downtime. Because they're pretty.

Yes, I am actually QUITE the geek. I've been a geek longer than I've been anything else, except black. Longer than I've been a Christian, in fact.

Good thing I've given up on love! Because now seeing my Inner Geek from the outside looking in, I'm quite sure I'd have never gotten a woman anyway.

Well, who cares!? I've got my psuedodragon!!

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Monday, March 3, 2008

Why I Praise

When I was a holy roller, I used to praise God. And I mean hands in the air, face lifted to the ceiling, mouth open, tears-streaming-down praise. Yeah, the kind of praising that makes the average person nervous.

When I go back to church, I will praise like that again. Somehow, it makes me feel good to go out of myself and focus on something else.

But God doesn't need to know from me that He's doing a good job (or not). I've read in His own Bible that if I don't say anything, the rocks will cry out. And that if He had a problem, He wouldn't tell me anyway.

Plus, I'm not in church, in any conventional sense, anymore. I can't seem to let a man tell me how to live anymore. If Christ were here (again) I'd probably do like the apostle John, and just lay my head on his breast all day and all night, and never move from that spot. ("Hey Jesus, what's that you got attached to your robe?" "Just leave him be, Peter. He's had a hard life and he needs this.") But when it comes to hearing from Peter--I'm not so interested. I mean, yeh, Peter, you've got insight and you've hung out with the Christ and walked briefly on the water too, but um, how's about that ear you lopped off? A little hot-headed, aren't we? Come back to me when you can fix it so's you never denied Christ three times. What, no TARDIS handy to go back in time and prevent it? Okay then, we're in the same boat. Hows about neither one of us tell each other how to live, unless I ask you, mmkay?

So who do I praise now? I find I'm easy to criticize and disapprove (see the above anti-Peter rant), but that's just my nasty now roiling around inside like intestinal parasites. They exist and they serve, but what they produce stinks like crap and I'd sooner not acknowledge them at all.

But it's in praise that I feel my ability to love. And love feels good. I've grown up not knowing how to love anyone, really, except The Big Invisible Kahuna In The Sky. Not getting love. Not even being familiar with the roadmarks on the map ever-so-tangientally related to love.

So I praise you. I praise you because you matter. I feel my heart when I see your progress. Your successes. Your triumphs. I praise you because I know how hard it is to be who you are, and how much work it takes to achieve what you have, and how much it hurts when you've had to retreat because of failure. How devastating it is and how much you want to curl up and die when it happens. I praise you because I am you.

And dammit, I praise you because we deserve it.