Frustration is finding a house you want to watch yourself grow old in, but lack the initial funding to purchase.
Original post blogged on b2evolution.
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Frustration is finding a house you want to watch yourself grow old in, but lack the initial funding to purchase.
Original post blogged on b2evolution.
November 31st, 2006
November 31st, 2007
It's been two years since November 31st, 2006:
"This month I decided to relaunch parts of my life. Sometimes, I've done well. Other times, not so well. Other things are still in the works."
Two years ago, my marriage had come to an end. Laura moved out. I was home with the kids, depressed, and at something of a bottom. I'd had a terrible year, personally. I was lucky to get out of 2006 with my job, my sanity, and my life.
Last year, on November 31st, 2007, I remarked on how much had changed in a year, and what my priority would be through this year:
"This year has been hard, and the three of us have gotten through it together. We're not without our scars, but we're surviving and living and together. They test my patience and prove my love every day. This next year is the year I work to be a better father to them."
Despite my own inadequacies effecting self-judgement, I hope that I did well by my kids this last year. I work hard to provide a good home environment for them. Struggles make me worry that it'll never be enough.
November 31st, 2008
As you, the reader, have come this far, you're likely wondering what the hell I'm talking about with this "November 31st" crap. Well, feel free to re-read my previous two posts on this subject, then come back here for my summary.
OK, so you're back. Wait. You didn't read, did you? OK, I can wait.
OK, you're done. RIGHT?
Screw it. Never mind.
November 31st.
Two years ago I made a goal of blogging every day for a month - 30 days. I was on track to accomplish this goal, but hit a technical snag a couple days before the end of the month.
First of all, blogging every day, in my mind, was something of a miracle. My wife left me. I was alone. Work was something of a struggle, and I'm sure I might have been fired if not for the fact that my life was a total mess and some people had sympathy for me. To have blogged a week, let a lone almost 30 days, THAT MONTH, was nothing short of spectacular.
Additionally, missing that one little day was the catalyst for THIS web site. I'd still be muttering around on Blogger if not for that month (no offense to my friends still on Blogger... if it's any consolation, I suggested it to Jill when she wanted to start blogging). That technical goof - Blogger not processing my blog-via-email post - caused me to start something entirely better. It was something of a release from bondage for me. Having my own home has freed me to find success in my search for a new self.
For me, November 31st is a time to reflect on change, to acknowledge the influences on my life, celebrate my own best efforts, and look toward the future. I hope to do it every year for the rest of my life. It helps cleanse my mind, in a way, and gives me something to look forward to next year.
As for the future. I hope to continue to support and foster the well-being of my own family - even as it grows and changes. I hope to become the type of man deserving of Jill's affections and support. I hope to use this next year to accomplish so much more with my writing. I hope to look on this year, the year that I blogged every day of the year, as proof that I can do anything with my mind, my fingers, and a well-designed computer keyboard.
I will make next November 31st memorable. I will do everything within my power to make 2009 the year that the new Eric makes a real name for himself.
Thank all of you for reading.
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.
Today, I discovered we'd taken on a new pet at the house: George. George is a fly that doesn't fly.
He crawled up onto my bare foot and scared the crap out of me (I wonder if that's what he wanted from me). I flicked it away and started looking for it. That's when Jill told me about our latest pet.
George doesn't fly. He's a fly, but he doesn't fly for some reason. He crawls around the house all day. He's been with us for a while now, and likes to randomly show up on pillows, plants, walls, and feet. He can get around just fine, apparently, he just can't fly. I've seen very young flies do that before, but unless George is a midget in some kind of super-fly species that happened to have spawned in my living room, I think there's something different about him.
I don't know what, or even how, he eats. He's been getting around this past week, so he must be eating something.
Many of you might be wondering why I haven't just stepped on the little guy. Well, that's complex.
I don't squish bugs. I don't crush spiders. I don't kill bugs very often. Sugar-craved ants crawling over the dog's food, yes. Wasps making a summer home in my roof, yes. Flies flying around looking for poop to eat and procreate on, yes. The downtrodden, the injured, the dying bug - no. I don't kill them.
I don't know why. I've always been that way. Maybe it was because of the neighborhood kid who used to pull the legs off of frogs (I hated that). Maybe it's due to some weird sense of Kharma. Whatever it is, I don't find pleasure in killing an insect or spider, and I'm not often scared or bothered by a single bug. I don't have issue with them, the bugs. I just don't want them in my house. I'll do whatever I can to get them outside long before I consider squishing it.

George, well, he's different. George isn't afraid of people, apparently, seeing as how I could chase him around with my finger and my camera. He let me take close up pictures without crawling away. He was content with hanging out with my toes, which no sane animal would do (one of our cats likes to lick them - note my previous statement about the mental health of an animal, and you might guess why the cat licks toes.
George, I'll be curious to see how long you last. But know this - the second you can support yourself, you're on your own.
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.
That's it for this time, these are the only entries.
Next edition of COV will be mid January. Please send your entries in by the second week January.

The big news this week was when God miraculously made someone shoot someone else, but the guy who was target of the malevolent God thwarted the evil miracle by keeping his cell phone in his pocket. Whew, close one! Reported here: God shoots, rescues man.
Then we have reports of some Christians Sharing the Good News of Utter Despisement.
The Mayor of Silverton (Stu Rasmussen) is transgender, and that ticks off the deity but good. Alas, the Lord had other commitments and could not deliver His condemnation in person: instead, He who is the One True God chose to delegate the job of sharing His bellicosity to one man and three young women from Kansas who had some free time. The God of the Israelites is one mysterious dude, and His hiring practices are opaque. He is nothing if not the King of “Go Figure.”
And now for some Sunday Bible study. Now, when the subject of the Bible comes up in exmo space, I normally point out that the Bible teaches evil ethics, and it’s silly for Christians to tell Mormons they’re interpreting the Bible wrong because that argument relies on the assumptions that the Bible is consistent, makes sense, and its various mysterious verses each have a unique demonstrably right interpretation, clearly false assumptions. However, today I’ll take a break from my usual cynical attitude and highlight a discussion Christian vs. Mormon interpretation of the quote “At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage” because that’s kind of an amusing one! ![]()
I don't make a point of pointing out my own attributes, so this is a difficult post for me, but this is what I was inspired to write about today. I can't turn back now.
Every so often - perhaps once a month or so - I hear it: "Why are you here?"
No, I'm not having a religious experience, and I'm definitely not going to do something dumb. I'm talking about work. I'm talking about why I work where I do, and why I do what I do. Those of you who have the privilege to know exactly what I do will have an advantage over those who don't, simply because you're more likely to understand the environment I work in better. For those that don't, I'm sorry, I obviously need to get to know you better.
My job is not a hard one. One might say that I could be doing so much more. OK, so a lot of people have said that to me. I think even I've said that to myself. But let me give you a better context.
I have a very good memory for things. It's always been good, but it's been getting better since I found myself 30, a single father, on the edge of losing my job, close to doing myself in, and so much more. I always tell people I didn't know much until I was 30. Really, what happened was, I discovered I had about as close to photographic memory as I can imagine.
No, it's not perfect. Jill will tell you that. Heck, anyone who's spent more than a day with me in the past 30 years can tell you that. But what I've learned how to do is to turn it on and off. In a way, it's like I found the remote control with the RECORD button, and found the special batteries that go inside it. And now I can remember things better. I always had a good memory, and now it seems to be better.
So I seem to others as some sort of walking encyclopedia. Coworkers have tested my capacity for odd subjects. But most interestingly, clients who I've worked with seem amazed by my memory and knowledge.
I often wow clients by remembering their situation from two years ago. Or their name. Or their situation. And when you interact with hundred of people each week, remembering a few here and there will wow them. They know I deal with a lot of people, and somehow remembering previous interactions tends to amaze them.
I always get questions at work. People who are part of the technical support area ask me for technical support. Management asks me to to recall policies or obscure facts pertaining to one thing or another. Coworkers come to me for questions simple and complicated. Clients who meet me for the first time ask me question after question. Clients that have worked with me before know that 99% of the time I know the answer to anything, so they come to me over and over again. Even my coworkers' clients end up falling into the mesmerization that is Eric. And after all the inquiries into my noggin, I get to hear one last question: "Why are you here?"
They seem to think I should be somewhere else. Some think I should go back to school. Some think I should be on game shows (not going to happen, I don't know THOSE kinds of things). Some think I should write (duh, that's what I've been doing / trying to do for the last 25 years of my life). Some think I should be in research of some kind. Some think I should be in charge. Some think I should be working for THEM.
They all have one thing in common: they can't fathom why I would continue to work a mundane job when I could be doing just about anything.
I've thought about it for years. I think I know the answer, but I'm not sure. See, I think this is the reason: IT'S EASY.
That's right, the barrier that keeps me from greatness is simple laziness. I like having an easy job to stress over. I like it WAY too much. So, my biggest obstacle - surprise, surprise - is me. I prevent myself from doing more.
Yeah, I already knew that. Did I mention I'm a good reader of people, too?
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.
Tonight, I opened a bottle of chocolate milk. Somehow, it just seemed right. It just seemed good.
It also seemed weird.
I don't consume much chocolate. I don't like the flavor all that much. When people discover my distaste for chocolate, they find it odd that someone could be that way. I've run into a few people just like me. I wonder if they just don't say anything to anybody, to avoid the disbelief and ridicule. I also wonder if they just tell me that they don't like chocolate to make me feel better. Or they're mocking me. Yeah, maybe they're mocking me.
I wasn't always this way. When I was a kid, I ate chocolate at any opportunity. I was always more interested in what I call the two-flavor chocolate. Two-flavor chocolate is chocolate PLUS another flavor. My usual favorite is peanut butter. Sometimes I like orange-flavored chocolate. Sometimes I prefer mint and chocolate. But I rarely enjoy multi-flavored chocolate - Snickers bars, for instance, have many flavors in them. No, not a fan of Snickers bars.
I remember always wanting chocolate milk as a kid. I didn't like strawberry back then nearly as much as I do now.
Reese's Peanut Butter Cups were my favorite candy growing up (still are), though I also had an affinity for Reese's Pieces (thanks to their post-E.T. popularity). Dad would bring home a candy bar most Wednesdays, and I ate up every pinch of chocolate.
Not any more.
I don't know how I got here. Part of me has always wanted to be different, and liking chocolate was about as normal as I could imagine, so I stopped liking chocolate. But really, it seems like there's so much more than I can identify. Somehow, I'm not really into chocolate.
Except tonight. I got a big cup of chocolate milk. So I'm not so black and white when it comes to chocolate. Go figure.
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.
You can add this to my earlier Mormon Conspiracy Theory and decide whether I should get out of the conspiracy theory business…
People keep pointing out that it was so obvious that Proposition 8 would be a P.R. fiasco that the Mormons should have predicted it. Well, I contend that the brethren did predict it, and it was exactly what they were hoping for.
The thing is this: Mormons thrive on “persecution”: the siege mentality that says “We must be doing something important if so many evil people are hell-bent on stopping us!” And they finally got some of it during the Romney campaign. Sort of.
But there’s a bit of a problem if all of your persecution comes from your fellow Religious Right theocrats. Some Mormons will be willing to blow it off as a generic “Satan fighting the Lord” situation, but others might make the obvious observation that the theocracy is the problem — and be tempted to join their fellow minorities in the “rainbows of diversity” crowd. Not the majority of faithful Mormons, mind you — but just enough “11th Article of Faith” sticklers will imagine that it’s okay to join hands with non-member/non-believer Democrats to make the rich/religious privilege Utah government folks uncomfortable.
The solution? Alienate the rainbow crowd, big time. This will attract exactly the right type of hate and persecution.
Whew, crisis averted!
On a day like Thanksgiving, I found it prudent to take a moment to express my gratitude to many people and things.
I'm thankful for my parents. It took moving 2000 miles away to truly appreciate them. I don't know where I'd be without them, and at the same time, I know that I didn't have much of a clue about my direction in life until they weren't so readily available. They always hoped for the best for me, without forcing me to be someone I wouldn't have wanted to be. I am proud of my individualism. I am proud of my uniqueness. I don't worry much about being different, weird, or the odd-ball. They gave me the room and the path to be able to find myself. They helped when I needed it. They helped even when they didn't know I needed the help. Their mere presence influences my life. I owe so much to them.
I'm thankful to have Jill. I never truly appreciated having a companion until I met her. Even sitting on the couch I feel like the bond between two people can be one of the most amazing things. Somehow, I lucked out with her. I found a friend and companion that loves me despite my eccentricities. She is my closest friend, my best friend, and my future. Words can't express my gratitude in having found her, but don't let that fool you into thinking I won't try. I feel more for her than I've ever known possible.
I'm thankful for my children. Sometime trying, sometimes frustrating, always adored. They teach me to be a better human while showing me different ways that intelligent minds can reason and manipulate the world around them. They teach me to look for the loopholes in parenting and close them so they can stop exploiting them. They also teach me compassion, caring, patience (which, as a patient person, I never knew I needed to learn anything there), fairness, innocence, and love.
I'm thankful for my job - despite its ups and downs. There was a time where I absolutely despised my job. There were managers I couldn't stand to work with. There were policies that didn't seem to have much logic to me. My job tested my belief in what I understand to be the most basic truth of the human race: that we treat others with the same dignity, respect, and care that we wish to be treated with - known almost universally as the golden rule. At the same time, I've learned how to find a balance between the idiosyncrasies of the corporate world and what I know as the right way to treat a person. I've learned to trust authority when it's prudent rather than fostering a strong anti-authoritative mentality. I've learned to pick my battles a little more - more when needed, less when it's not. Oddly enough, my kids have taught me that, too.
I'm thankful for my friend, Christy. I don't get to see her much. I don't get to hear her voice very often. But somehow, I know when she needs to hear from me. And I know when I need to hear from her. We've both been through some of the same issues in life. We've both had entirely different lives that, somehow, meet up in the best of ways. I've had many friends that I've cherished over the years. Most have fallen away. This one, I think, will find a way of standing the test of time.
I'm thankful for Richard, my friend and the husband of my cousin. I respect him highly. He's been through a lot; gotten through parts of his life that would have delegated him to a different life. He's worked hard, clawed his way through factors in his life that would have kept him down, broken a few stereotypes, and created a family and life regardless of what was stacked up against him. I'm grateful that my cousin has such a man as a husband. I'm glad to know he's there. I'm glad he sponsors the web space for this blog. ;)
I'm thankful for this blog. Sometimes, I don't have the time or energy to spend as much time with the blog as it needs. Sometime, it uses up time and energy I need to be using elsewhere, usually at home. My blog is something of a therapy session. Or, it's been a way of expressing myself and my feelings. It's been a way to get things off my mind. It's been a way to come to terms with my own mistakes and shortcomings. It was there for me at some of the bottom recesses of my life. It will be there during the highest and best moments of it, too.
I'm thankful for people who come to read my rants, thoughts, randomness, memoirs, vague references, memories, complaints, and my past and future. Every month I see hits increasing. In February we had 26,637 hits - RSS feeds, search engine reads, random hits, regular readers, and everything in between. Last month we had 62,456. This month is currently at 60,607, and I've probably actually blogged (something substantial, in my opinion) half this month. Yes, my hits show numbers for people who never come back, or for automated system that don't give a crap about anything I'm writing about. But someone (not just my Mom) reads. If the numbers were going down each month, I probably would have given up a long time ago. Instead, people read, I write. I've written every day this year. EVERY DAY. 332 days. I even blogged on Leap Year Day. In doing so, I've been able to chronicle a large part of my life. I've been able to create something that will stand the test of time by being SOMEWHERE on the Internet. I've been able to leave my voice for my children, and for future posterity. I've been able to find some degree of imortality. While I won't be blogging every day in 2009, I will continue to write, and I will write more quality than quantity - the blog will live on,
I'm thankful to be alive. In 2006, I hit the lowest part of my life ever. I was ready to end my life. That day, it wasn't the worst day of my life - that came later. It was just another bad day in a string of a couple years worth of bad days. Call it good sense, call it a need for attention, but I cried for help that night. I got it. A friend - just a simple friend, who I haven't even talked to in the better part of a year, had the sense to have someone keep near me. I got through the moment. I sought help. I found redemption with life. I found a purpose - a cause. I started searching for myself. I've found parts. I continue to look. But if I hadn't thought my life was so bad that I needed to seek help, there was a good chance I would have gone through with my plans. I'm thankful for my life. I'm thankful that I was able to spare myself, to make the right decision. If I hadn't made that choice, I wouldn't have had all these other things to be thankful for. I wouldn't be with my kids. I wouldn't have had the opportunity to be with Jill. I wouldn't be here, right now, writing this entry into my life's journal. I'm thankful for all I have. I'm thankful for all I don't have, and the lessons I've learned from it.
I'm thankful for all this, and so much more.
I'm thankful to be looking for a new Eric. And everything that comes with it.
Thank you for reading.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Original post blogged on b2evolution.
So, I’m wading through my inbox the other day when I get an email from a friend I haven’t heard from in quite a while. He knows I’m no longer LDS and that I have a sense of humor. So, he forwards me the following email:
My co-worker, ******* (name changed to protect the innocent), comes into the office today, with that smile on his face that says, “I’ve got a really funny story for you”.
His brother, Tyler, is a “ward missionary” out in L.A. and was helping a couple missionaries in preparing for a neighborhood “meet n’ greet” where the neighborhood could come over and meet the members of the church, and get to know these “Mormons” and find out they’re not weird and not into weird things…
Ahem.
I owe everyone an apology.
The last couple weeks I haven't been blogging as much as I'd like. My mind has been elsewhere. Every night that I sit down in front of the computer, I'm not present enough to type out more than a few lines (if even that).
At times, I've thought that it was because of people at work. Over the last few weeks, I've had discussions with various coworkers about my blog. Well, really, they're not discussions - it's more like people telling me they've been reading my blog. Initially, I thought that it would censor my words or cause me to question blogging altogether. It hasn't, though. I don't hesitate to talk about anything - I just find myself at a loss for words (following a loss of contemplation for the world around me).
No, my issues is focus. I'm just not focused, and I haven't been focused much over the course of the year. I'm working on a few things to refocus my efforts. I need to set new goals. Real goals.
And I need to stop bogging down my mind with useless crap.
Many of the people who know me personally, or in some sort of "real life" capacity, know that I have a rather good memory. I know a lot things. I've experienced a lot of things. I speak with confidence, even when my expertise is nothing more than having read about the subject once.
Now, to get this way, you have to have a penchant for information. You need an appetite for encyclopedias, trivia, useless facts, and know more than just the 5th-grade textbook version of something. You absorb information. It soaks into your skin and crusts under your fingernails. Your hair gets crusty with facts and knowledge that no one person really needs to know. This is often the curse of a polymath - the renaissance man; the tinkerer; the DaVinci. This is, to some degree, what I deal with every conscious moment of the day. While trying to explain the function of some electrical gadget to a person, I'm thinking about the curvature of space-time, the volume of beef that people in the US eat every day, and the possible cause of some issue on the car - while listening to what's going on around me and formulating assumptions about a person's life as I'm trying to fix their problem. I don't know if I qualify as a polymath. All I know is that I can't stop my brain from working.
Well, really, that's not true. I CAN stop it. I've just gotten out of the habit of finding the peace that comes with uncluttered simplicity. I've become too involved in everything going on in my world.
No, my coworkers are the least of my worries. My biggest problem is... myself.
I vow to you, my readers, my family, my friends, and my colleagues- I will find focus. I WILL write. I will do a better job of blogging. I will make use of my knowledge and abilities.
You will see an all new Eric. One that is back on the right track instead of cluttered inside his mind, trying to find his way out.
Thank you for your patience.
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.
Just in time for Thanksgiving, Hollywood is rolling out Harvey Milk, a tribute to the first openly elected gay man to a major office in the United States. The reviews of Harvey Milk are excellent. Sean Penn is supposed to be magnificent and the movie captures humanity of the gay experience.
People will get out of that movie and despise homophobia. Then they will look for a homophobic force and the first thing that will come to their mind will be the Mormon Church.
Almost every journalist and every opinion leader of the reality based community will see Harvey Milk and shape his or her opinions accordingly.
"Cheerful company and a merry time are ahead for you."
- Fortune Cookie
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Funny how Thanksgiving is two days away. It's almost like the fortune cookie knew.
I have two days off - tomorrow and Thursday. I'm actually going to have a Thanksgiving this year, instead of going to Village Inn or meandering through a dinner with the former-in-laws. Not that I don't like them, mind you, it's just awkward.
This year, I have the kids all to myself, too. And even still, I have Jill to spend the holiday with.
A merry time, indeed!
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.
Original post blogged on b2evolution.
Here it is.
So did I resign my church membership like I said I would?
Not quite. yet. I set out to do it, and… I just couldn’t do it.
Now, I know most people reading this will leap to the cynical interpretation that deep down I secretly still believe in God, or that I just haven’t milked this enough for blog material. But it’s not that (okay, well, maybe a little tiny bit of the latter). But, as a purely symbolic gesture, I don’t feel like doing it. I never affirmed my membership or sustained the leadership of the CoJCoL-dS as an adult, so I haven’t said anything that I should have to take back. I haven’t authorized them to list me as part of their organization — so if they’re keeping honest records, they should remove my name on their own, without my insisting on it.
The Composition Book
Part Seven
Fishkill Journal
Eric P Feb. 22, 1986
Over the vacation I went to Boston to see sites. There are alot of sites about the American Revolution. We stayed at the American hotel. They have alot of pictures of the war. We had alot of fun. I hope we can go back someday.
The teacher comments read: "Good"
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I'm not sure of which hotel I'm referring to here, but I do recall some excursions into Massachusetts for some history-related family vacations. I just wish I could recall THIS vacation. I think I'll have to go back simply to retrace my steps and see if anything comes back to me. That, and it might be good to visit Boston.
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.