Well ladies and gentlemen,

I am well on my way to learning Mandarin, as I have been conditionally accepted into the TIP program in Beijing, China. There, while teaching English to adult secondary school teachers, I plan to gain a working knowledge of the language and culture.

I am sad to report, however, that I am much further behind on becoming a jazz and classical guitarist. THis is due, in large part, to the recent and brutal theft of my baby, Gloria. Police reports have been filled. Suspects have been accosted. And one girl remains the key suspect, as her prints were found on the passenger side door...time and time again.

I will keep you updated.

vaya con dios.

The Perfect Tie

Have you ever tied the perfect tie?

I did, this morning. It was a beautiful knot that made me feel like everything was going to be alright. But then I began thinking about two things, the first being why does this particular knot make me feel this way. I'm not really sure but, after having tied ties for about 10 years or so, to finally finish a knot and not have to adjust it in any way was just reassuring.

The second thing that I began to think about was that this tie, that I had accomplished in tying so well, would eventually have to straighten out. Nothing lasts forever. For some reason, this concept hit me like a ton of bricks this morning. I can't explain why I feel this way. Maybe the contentment in my life will dissipate and this is a forewarning. I don't presume to be psychic or all knowing. What I do know is that this morning I tied a perfect tie and now I'm sad because it will never last.

C'est la vie

Another Ticket

Don't drink and speed. Dammit, I'm pissed. But techincally, it's all my fault. Whatever.

Another Year Older, Another Year Wiser?

How did this saying come about? Yes, I'm older but I don't feel any different that I did last year. In case you noticed, today is my birthday.

I'm not really sure whats so great about the day of your birth, though. I guess I should thank my mother for going through that whole ordeal to birth me and put up with me for this long. Other than that, there's nothing that we really accomplish by being here. The only thing that we can hope to do is to have a small impact on the world and the relationships around us.

Where did all of this work come from?

Yesterday, I found out that I have pretty much the most hectic week of my semester so far. My boss wants all my projects to be turned in today by the end of business and what not. (4 separate, semi-detailed projects). Then I've got a test on Friday morning, for which I am not prepared at all. Add to that a test that my professor sprung on the class that is due by Friday night by 5. This one is supposed to be a 5-6 page paper on readings that I have not yet done or finished. Add to that a project for my strategic management class that is due on Thursday by class time and our decisions for our simulation. In addition to preparation for two Relay Meetings and everything else. It's just a LOT of work.

Thinking about it makes me sad.

Have a good day.

Something to think about.

"Seven Blunders of the World"


1. Wealth without work

2. Pleasure without conscience

3. Knowledge without character

4. Commerce without morality

5. Science without humanity

6. Worship without sacrifice

7. Politics without principle


—Mahatma Gandhi

Here we are

This is it. This is my life. I feel like a serial dater. I meet someone, I long for their company, I flirt and laugh and what not...then, the date rolls around. After that one date, I find myself grasping for my own space and to never talk to that person ever again. Am I a jerk for not calling? Am I a commitment phoebe? I don't think so. When someone arrives for an important event, 45 minutes late, one tends to get turned off. One can get the feeling that there is no chemistry when two people barely even touch, friendly or otherwise, for an entire night.

Oh well, c'est la vie.

We live, we love, we die.

or is it that "we love, we live, we die"? Does loving someone provide a medium in which we can live! What of those who can not or have not loved? Do they live at all or are they meandering through life in a fog?