Awake and still alive

I just never get bored of seeing the moon rise over the ocean. I can't wait to be seeing it from the cockpit of my boat as I take my first cruises around the keys and the bahamas. No, I don't have it yet. I'm still comfortably land locked with a roof, unlimited electricity and hot water, and a great grocery store just a few blocks away. But I can't wait for the transitional period where I'm living on the boat, but still working and walking to my favorite produce and meat section. That is when I will start taking two, three days, and an occassional week off to learn the ins and outs of coastal cruising and the quirks of my new home on the water. That vision is what keeps me happy. Living beside the ocean now gets me closer to it's realization. I'm gonna try hard to make it happen in 2012.

I think it's safe now to reveal a couple details about my last eight months. On april fools day, my roommate was detained by the authorities. She had stayed in this country past her alloted three months. I went from living in my truck and scraping by day by day to being responsible for a crazy, lovable, flea-bitten puppy, a pregnant cat, and an apartment that I couldn't afford, literally overnight. Up to that point, I had been happy to come up with just half the rent.

But it wasn't just the animals and the physical space, my friend had put a lot of work into making the apartment her space. I was suddenly faced with a choice to either bug out, put the animals in the shelter and look for a cheap place to stay, maybe go back to being homeless, or somehow try to caretake my friend's life for her until her situation was resolved.

Let me remind you that I was living in the open bed of my pickup truck for two months on the street, picking up tickets two or three times a week, moving the truck two or three times a day, when this person who came into my restuarant-hell while I was working, told me I could park in her unused parking space. For two months I was in heaven. I put up a tarp over the bed, and she let me make coffee and shower in her apartment almost every day. Her two beautiful sons were living with her, and they took me into their family like a stray dog. It was a crucial moment, and she gave me a place to make a stand.

The evil french couple that had me essentially in servitude for four months sold the restuarant, and I was out of a job for about two weeks. My mother and to some extent, my father, came through for me, once again, and fed me until I landed the job I thought I would have found two weeks after I got here in the slowest time of the year. I think I mentioned that I would never again move somewhere in the off-season.

The restuarnt I work for now is paradise. I had to suffer eight months of slow lunch shifts before I finally became permanent on the dinner crew. But now, I am making bank. I will stay there until I leave miami.

My roommate was detained for six months, and I somehow, with god's help, kept the apartment. Got rid of the fleas, gave the kittens to the shelter (they were sooo cute, I'm sure they were all adopted... I tell myself), got the cat spayed, and managed to keep the place pretty much as she left it.

She didn't take captivity well. She was well on her way to becomming institutionallized when they finally let her out, six months later. It has been a couple months now, and I am so proud of her. She is almost completely back to herself. She kicked the pills they had her on in the first week, and the has lost 30 of the 40 Lbs she gained in there. She has increased the cleanliness of the apartment by atleast one order of magnitude, and has reclaimed her artistic lisence with the interior design.

In fact, she has reclaimed her life with a vengence. To the point where she has nearly kicked me out twice. But it is a difficult situation. She can't work, and I continue to pay all the bills. The realty company that took over the building thinks I am the owner.

Now, remember that I am a pretty simple guy. I work, I read, I am learning to play guitar, and I drink everyday to pass time and save money until I can buy a sailboat. When I drink I relax, think about my future, and sometimes stay up late looking at google earth, plotting my way points, or ordering obscure books from amazon.com. But I am quiet, never caustic unless provoked, and pretty much just go about my business without worrying how other people see me. Unfortunately, my friend has had past experiences with alcoholics, and has diagnosed me as such.

We finally reached a peace when I told her I planned to leave as soon as she got back on her feet. I can't bail out on her. I've spent the whole year trying to repay her for helping me when I needed it most. But I also am twice divorced, and damed if I'll let some woman dictate how I will live my life.

If this all sounds familiar to you, there is nothing new under the sun. These are classic man-woman dynamics. The weird thing here is that they are being played out by a buddhist monk and a lesbian in south beach. Plus ce change, plus c'est la meme chose. The more things change, the more they stay the same (Rush. 2112, I think...).

So, my friend is back, my life is good, and I've started my blog again. I don't really know yet what the blog is about, but another year is clicking on the dial of life. 50 is fast approaching, and I still don't have a boat. But I do have a great job, plenty of things to talk about, and a boat fund that is slowly gaining weight.

It is december again. Last year was really cold at this time. Now it is highs in the 70's, lows in the 60's, and plenty of sunshine.

I listen to reggae and blues on pandora, and before you know it, will be playing my own renditions on my brand new electric guitar... well ok, the guitar is used, but its new to me, and the amp is out of the box.

Until my next post, stay awake and live, blogland. :)

Fwd: Lauren says to start writing again

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: "mark kilburn" <mkilbu01@gmail.com>
Date: Dec 24, 2011 2:42 AM
Subject: Fwd: Lauren says to start writing again
To: <mkilbu01@blogger.com>

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: "mark kilburn" <mkilbu01@gmail.com>
Date: Dec 24, 2011 2:35 AM
Subject: Lauren says to start writing again
To: <blogger@blogspot.com>

I just bought an electric guitar, and I am thrilled. I have tried to learn the guitar two or three times in my life, always with an acoustic, I've even taken lessons a couple times. But I never stuck with it. I always wanted an electric guitar.

I bought one last night from a place called miami beach music exchange. The owner's name is marty, and he is only open from 8pm-3am, Thursday through Sunday. So around 11 pm, after we celebrated the solstice, I rode my bike up to Purdy Avenue and bought my first ever electric guitar. I was so worried I would drop the amp as I rode home, but I made it.

Because I am not christian, and because I don't have a significant other right now, I pretty much avoid christmas, and am happy when it is past. The winter solstice though, is different. You probably already know this, but the winter solstice is the shortest day of the year, and the longest night. Symbolically, it is the birth of the life force, and the beginning of the decline of the death force. The birth of Jesus, conveniently, is celebrated three days later. Those christians knew what they were doing, and you can't fault them for trying to celebrate life with the pagans. That's as far as I'm going tonight on that subject.

So I haven't posted for awhile. I started my blog to chronicle my experiences in homelessness: a direct result of my leap of faith by staying in miami beach after I ran out of money. My choice, I think, was validated as I found a home, a good job, and a new life. I am happy again.

I read somewhere that art is born of pain. That to produce art, the artist must suffer. Well, I'm not suffering, and my art kind of dried up for awhile. But then christmas and the solstice came around again. I wrote a "blog post", but really it was an email to my closest family. They pretty much all told me that I should be writing. Really, it wasn't my greatest work, just some ramblings about the solstice, and my cat killing a mouse.

Tonight though, I got a voicemail from my friend kelly, whom I worked with in newnan, georgia, just before I came here. Kelly writes an awesome blog called waiting for tips. She told me about someone who reads her blog, who asked if she read any other blogs. Kelly told the someone, her name is Lauren, about my blog. And apparently she read the whole thing, and believe it or not, she liked it. Kelly called me to tell me to start writing again... for lauren...

So I guess because I've been having some things I want to say rolling around in my head for awhile, and because my family thinks I should, and because Lauren liked my blog, maybe I will try to start writing again.

This is my hello posting. In a day or two, I will tell you what I've been up to since I last wrote. Its funny, I've been playing the guitar for only two days now, but the difference in the creative processes of writing and music making are way different. After I played the guitar for an hour or so, my little phone keyboard seemed foriegn... I didn't know where the letters were. As I write now though, it is like an instrument. I think the word, and the letters appear. Weird, huh?

Thank you for reading, who ever you are.

Anyone want a kitten?

Its too late to be writing, but I think I will because that's what I'm supposed to be doing... in part. I spent my whole day serving others and fighting off negativity in my thoughts whenever it appeared. I can't think of any better way to spend a day, unless my soulmate happens to be around.

I trained someone new at work; a new waitress who is also a massage therapist, mexican, close to my age, and pretty attractive (female, in case you were wondering). So, start with a base of really good service to my guests (read charity, love and humility), add to that showing someone the ropes who really doesn't know italian food (read patience), plus keeping my desires to flirt in check (read chastity), throw in the everyday patience with my support staff who are great but easily distractable, and some serious miami beach sun and heat, and you have a day where you really like that first sip of ice cold beer when you finally get home.

But, I didn't get to go straight home for that beer. I have a friend who is a special project, to say the least. It gives me great joy to be the person she is depending on in her current hour of need, and without sharing anything that shouldn't be shared, I can only say that another couple hours passed dealing with people and systems who don't care much about service, but care a lot about their bottom line, and their cell phones.

I did finally get home, only to find my parking space blocked by someone who's come to a party upstairs to watch the Heat play their first semifinal game at home against the chicago bulls. No worries, I got them to move the car.

Billy, the jack russell, has fleas. So whenever he comes near me, three or four of the little f***ers choose me as a potentially more desirable host. But in miami, its humid enough that my skin provides enough friction to just roll the little buggers up and kill them easily.

I know I'm going on and on, and I'm not trying to make myself out as anything other than someone who has tons of opportunities to be negative... just like you.

I think it was Ziggy Marley who said that (to paraphrase) being negative only feeds the devil. This is another lesson for me. Any negative thought that I allow to become a negative behavior only creates negativity in the world. Pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, greed, lust, or sloth...

I made the best ribeye steak tonight that I've ever cooked on a george foreman grill. Accompanied by boiled (my steamer is in storage) asparagus, cooked to perfection. And washed down with a surprisingly good pinot noir by robert mondavi. Whole meal cost less than 10 bucks. Two more for the krispy kreme donuts I'm about to eat.

This is the good life. I am a month behind on my rent, but my landlord is cool. My other bills will get paid as soon as I can pay them. I have really good friends who I respect, and who respect me. And I have a simple, honest job to buy my daily bread. I love, and I am loved. That's all that matters. The other stuff is small, and I never sweat the small stuff.

So the miami heat won tonight, I will soon hear the bed squeeking above me as my neighbors celebrate. Its past my bed time, and I'm going to bed, clean again, and ready for one more day that is full of shit. Beautiful shit, because it helps me be less seperate from god.

A close call

I talked to my sponsor tonight. He doesn't read my blog, or even use the internet, as far as I know. But he answered the phone when I needed to hear a sane voice for just a minute. So he won't know how grateful I am that he was there for me. Or maybe he already knows.

Alcoholics anonymous, I agree with the dalilahma, is western society's greatest gift to man in the twentieth century.

I had a moment of weakness tonight. After almost a year clean, I thought about the fact that I had cash in my pocket, a day off tomorrow, and a dealer's phone number who would deliver to me. And I recognized that I was some place I shouldn't be. I tried to call a couple friends without success, and, for the first time in more than a year, I called this old cuss of a truck driver from texas who guided me through the first few steps a long time ago. And he picked up, and he pulled me out.

The devil is always waiting, but so is god. We each make the choice.

My life is still messed up, and ok, and confidential. And I doubt many will even read this posting, which is alright by me. But I just want to record for posterity that david j is a good man, and he has rescued me from myself more than once. May god bless his soul.

Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

http://silkworth.net/aa/stfrancis.html

The Third Step Prayer

http://silkworth.net/aa/3rd.html

Still searching...

Every once in awhile I try to remember the seven deadly sins. Tonight I couldn't remember two, so I looked it up on the web. I was forgetting lust and wrath. I'm okay with lust. I've been celibate for quite awhile now, but there was a time when I really had to deal with lust.

Wrath, though is the one I conveniently forgot. There are some very unjust and stressful things happening around me right now, and I've found myself having fantasies of righteous indignation and divine retribution. I know that's vague, but frankly, the details are none of your business.

The first point is that it is amazing how our minds justify ourselves. Without careful oversight we can thoughtlessly do really mean things and totally believe we are right to do them. I'm not talking about oversight from others, I mean watching ourselves. Monitoring my emotional state. When I get angry or fearful, it is a flag that something is wrong. It is up to me to figure out what it is. And that's the tricky part, because my mind is hardwired to believe I am right about my assumptions. In fact, assumptions can become "facts" in the blink of an eye. But I'm pretty sure I've made this point before.

The second thing is that there are also seven cardinal virtues which overcome the seven deadly sins. Patience is the cure for wrath. Two ways to look at it. Am I being vengeful? Am I lacking patience? Same coin, same common denominator inhibiting my spiritual growth.

I haven't been writing because I don't want to share some things with people who will make assumptions about me and my life. God is the only one who I answer to, the only one who can judge me. Nevertheless, people make judgements everyday. They create a map in their minds of their reality. It helps them be good people for the most part, and I speak only about those I know. Every one does it; creates a model of the world and its workings. That's how we function and create. In my opinion though, the very smart among us recognize that the map in their heads is not the true state of things, but is filtered and distorded to varying degrees by the context of our own lives.

The map is not the territory. If you try to define the devine you will fail. Reality, the truth, god, is bigger than our heads. Our heads are defined by god, yet we endlessly try to believe that we know what is the truth. Humans are peculiar. Once I know something, I an very reluctant to unknow it and believe otherwise.

I believe that I know nothing. The things I think are facts can become lies or illusions at any moment. I only trust the god that speaks to me from within. One thing though, I can always find; love. Whether it is the love of an electron for its nucleus, the love that makes water seek itself, or the love I feel everyday at work, at home, from my soulmate, and from that divine spirit that creates my reality. To quote the Beatles, "love is all there is".

So I bookmarked the wikipedia page of the seven deadly sins and the seven cardinal virtues. When life is crazy, it is good to have some guidelines.

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_deadly_sins

I'm still okay

Just had a friend tell me I'm a charged particle but I also have a nucleus... I like that. Things keep changing, and sometimes I don't like that. I don't want to talk about my life much right now because there are too many things about other people, and I don't want to hear other others judging me or my friends. You can't make a valuable opinion about someone else until you have walked a mile in their shoes.

I'm okay. I'm stable and surfing the wave of life to the best of my ability. I recently told another friend that I will be glad when I die. Relieved, actually because I will finally be finished with all of this. I'm in no hurry to bring on that ending. That's not my decision, just like my life really isn't mine. I'm here doing my best to do what I'm supposed to do to the best of my understanding. Just hope I'm getting it right.

I like the way the sea smells

I can think of only one thing better than sitting on the beach at night listening to reggae, and that is sitting on a boat at night listening to reggae.

Who really knows?

Season is winding down. My boat fund has been seriously diminished by my choice to help a friend in need. She asked me recently when I would get my boat. I said "maybe next year." Unless I hit the lotto, it ain't happening this year. We are comming to the slim time of year. I'm not too worried yet, we still have a few profitable weeks comming, and I am aware that I need to save. I know its comming, and the fat isn't quite gone yet. Now I'm adjusting my habits.

Still, I struggle a lot with life. When money is an issue, I get depressed. I'm old enough now, and sober enough to see it comming so I can mitigate... I have to keep a balance between intelligent self-denial and reasonable self-indulgence. I don't like being poor, and I like being hungry and homeless even less. I know that how I interpret the world has everything to do with how my world evolves. The more I love, the more love comes back to me. The more I dislike, the more alone I become.

I have a very good friend who appreciates me and takes care of me according to her abilities. I also take care of her according to my abilities, and I have a nurturing home as a result. That is a lot in this world.

I had a thought this morning on my walk to work. What if reincarnation is real, but this is the first life for everyone in this world? What if in the next life we actually remember the life we lived this time? Questions about life-after-life really seem, to me, to be the cause of a lot of problems in this life. Isn't it reasonable to live our lives now as though there is nothing beyond our death? We have no quantifiable evidence, that I know of, that anything happens after you die. That doesn't mean you become a heathen utilitarian in this life; actions have clear consequences.

I don't think an intelligent person can make decisions about their behavior in this life based on any belief in any kind of consequences after you die. Heaven is a lie. Paradise is a lie. You create your own heaven or hell in this life, and when you die, it is over.

Should my grandmother be afraid to die? Absolutely not. She has been a good person in this life. If there is a post-mortum accounting, she has little to fear. If this is all there is, she has some great memories, I'm sure, and she has left goodness in her wake. If she had lived a life like the dealers I know, taking advantage of anyone she could find, not unlike some executives I know, she would be living the consequences. If she had riches, they would seem meaningless. She might distrust anyone close to her. Afterall, we ascribe our own motives to everyone around us. But she has tried, as far as I can tell, to be loving, forgiving, and generous. What comes around goes around. Forever, maybe...

So I guess my point is this; live your life as though there is nothing else. That way if there isn't anything else, you're in good shape. And if there is something else, you've laid a good foundation for what's to come. If jesus really was god in carnate, then he knows what we are faced with every day. Just do your best. Live and let live.

And I guess that's all I have to say about that. :)

The road less traveled

Someone told me I look innocent tonight... that's a new one. I responded "maybe I am, maybe I'm not". Before she told me that, I was thinking about this motor-head I used to smoke crack with. It was another low point in my life, in atlanta. I had a dealer I used to go visit. He had a house and a couple cars in the drive. I'd buy a 60 or so, and sit in one of the cars with the only other white guy within two miles, and we'd smoke until it was gone. Sometimes we looked at engines, he fixed a couple things on my truck, sometimes we watched porn on the onboard video. He was fixing up the dealers wheels. One time the dealer brought a white chick with the eightball i'd just bought. She was a crack-whore, I guess we were supposed to have sex. She stayed with me until 11 or 12 the next day. We never had sex. I took her home. She called me later saying she'd "found" some money, and did I want to party more? I knew what she probably did to get the money, and by then, I was already on the six or seven hour long slog back to sober.

This stuff really happened. I lived it. And the stuff I've seen is nothing compared to what I know others have lived through. Some of the people I've known... I would never want to walk in their shoes. But I've known them. I've loved a couple of them. And I haven't even begun to talk about the things I saw before, when I was a junkie.

Now I'm waiting for god to let me have a boat. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing in the mean time, so I work, I care for my friends, and I wait. And I thank him that I don't have to do the things I used to do. I drink, I write, I wait. I take a couple pictures.

I watch out for anger and resentment. Those are the things that made me depressed, that made me use. I promise myself I will never ask for anything I can't get by myself or do without. I may die without ever getting my boat, but I will live the way I believe I am supposed to live; without regrets, in the thick of it. If I die landlocked and poor, I can say that I never conformed. And I will believe that I am better for it.

I do like the sunsets here

My life is happy and boring again. The world is crazy, but it always has been, and always will be. Things happen the way they're supposed to. Good people suffer. Bad people suffer too. As a species, we evole.

I'm watching saudi arabia and lybia and wisconsin. I want to go to japan to help with rescue and rebuilding, but I want my boat more. There will be other disasters and places where I am needed in the future. Now my roommate needs me. She's hitting a low. Unemployment is wearing on her. I am very happy that I am bringing in enough to cover both our expenses and even buy a meal out once in a while. But she needs to support herself. Being unable to is definitely wearing on her, but she may have a bartending position starting this comming weekend.

Staff is changing at my restuarant. I'm working seven days a week at the moment, but that's okay. I like the structure working every day gives me, and the money isn't bad either. I've turned into the goto guy when there's a staff shortage, and I'm really happy to be together enough to always say yes.

Mostly I'm just really happy to know that I am exactly where and when I am supposed to be. Its been a long time since I've felt this way. I can't change much in this world, but I am happy to be able to treat just about everyone I interact with with kindness and good will.

Last night at about 4:30 am a couple drunk assholes tried to break into my truck. Billy the jack russell heard them first and woke me up. We both went outside, and we had the desired effect; first a beefy little dog in a pirate T-shirt appearing and barking out of nowhere, then a crazy old guy in his underwear yelling "stay out of my truck". Hee hee hee. They tried to act tough, but I know we scared them, and they didn't bother us any more. Punks.

Life is full of fun little moments like that. They woke my friend up though, and we both had trouble getting back to sleep. Still, I made it to work on time despite the spring forward, and she got some sleep too.

So all's well that ends well. I'm still seperated from my soulmate, but she knows I'm okay, and I know she's still alive. Summer is comming fast, but we still have lovely cool evenings and beautiful sunsets in south florida. Its good to be home.

Slovak women

I am very far away from driving down to my dealer's place to pick up a bag and spend away another night in crackland. And also, I find myself in that in-between world that invites self-destruction. One of our friends came by tonight. He was born northafrican, speaks arabic, french, spanish, and english. He was forlorn about losing his slovak girlfriend...

I know something about slovak women; they are very beautiful, and they fight with shovels. Everytime I see this guy, I want to do push-ups and brush up on my judo, and wrestling take-downs.

This is my life now. I give service to everyone, and I fight the urge to be aggressive. I mentioned satan a couple postings ago. Satan lives on my left shoulder. He whispers in my ear constantly. Pride, anger, envy, covetousness, greed, gluttony, and sloth. There is always a voice encouraging me to be upset, to turn against others.

And god lives on my right shoulder. His voice is a whisper. When I give up suddenly and ask for guidence, it is him that turns my attention toward a bird picking at garbage. He says you will never be hungry. He knows what I need before I do. He says never forget that I will never leave you. He says be happy now, because today, you have everything you need. And, he says, tomorrow will be the same.

So, I guess there's not much to say. My life is good. I have everything I need, and I am able to give love to others every day. What else is there? My soulmate? She is for another lifetime. Maybe there is someone who would like to be with me in this life. Maybe not. We'll see.

I have reggae and good earphones. I have beautiful trees to hear my thoughts, a great dog to love me, and a very good friend to cook mussels for me once in awhile. The moon is waxing, the weather is becomming summer-like. The nights are cool, I have a nice bed, sheltered from the rain and the mosquitos.

I remember driving drunk up to my dealer's place in sandy springs through downtown atlanta. I can remember almost every curve, and how my craving increased, the closer I got. I remember the satisfaction of pulling into his drive and him answering my call. Then the bliss of my first hit before I pulled out of his driveway. I remember not remembering much that came after, and I remember a couple highway landmarks, stoned, that always got me back home. And I am so grateful that I don't have to do that anymore.

I don't have to kill my hurt with cocaine anymore because I have given up my hurt. I like where I live, I like where I work, I like how I spend my time away from work. Life is hard, I can't change that. But we all choose our problems, and I have made enough good choices now, that I can live with my problems. Actually, at the momemt, I find myself helping those I care about to make choices they can live with too. I think that's what they mean by paying it forward. Please let me keep my head about me enogh to continue to pay it forward.

Cool breezes, and a steady wind at your back..

Possesed puppy grows up

I've said it probably 200 times, and I will say it again...the world would be a much better place if pot were legal, and alcohol wasn't. Pot makes people mellow, alcohol makes them stupid and belidgerant.

Its Sunday night, the food and wine festival has just ended here on the beach, and there are a few thousand people trying to leave. The roads are jammed. The cops are driving around like crazy people with their lights flashing, going nowhere, just showing the colors. Fascists...

Anyway, most of the people driving now are probably intoxicated, so the roads are stupid and dangerous. If they were all stoned, the few who are drunk would be obvious and easy to handle. We might even be able to be kind to them... what a concept. Treat deviants with respect and care...

The problem isn't the people, they are mostly sheep and do what everyone else does. The problem is the law that creates a beligerant society.

But hey, what do I know? I'm just an old divorced washed out addict.

Ahhh... just tuned into some baaaach. Sometimes you just need some peace. I didn't have to work a double tonight, and I have two days off now because my mom is comming to visit. I've been working a little too much, and this is just what the doctor ordered. Remember, work to live, don't live to work.

It has been a nice, peaceful week living once again with my friend. I had to go to the hostel tonight to see my bartender friend because there was a problem with some music files she gave me to copy. My goodness, what a chaotic, unpeaceful place. How did I keep my sanity living there for three weeks? I stayed in my room, that's how. The world's children come to south beach to play. The barely post-pubescent ones with no money and an over-abundance of hormones go to that hostel. The saddest thing is the 30-, and 40-something guys who go there to pick up young female travelers.

I remember saying I would suffer financial hardship for my friend. While that's not yet a reality, she's not working, and I expect to have to dip into my savings soon to cover the rent. She's doing ok so far. I can see the stress of unemployment in her, and I'm doing my best to insulate her from the worst of it. She would do it for me in a heartbeat, and I'm happy I have the means to help her. I'm trusting that she and I can have all we need, even if it isn't all that we want.

My attitude is still good. I have all that I need, and I have opportunities to help others. I'm still earning trust at work; I've lost a couple good bar shifts recently because I'm new. Atleast I believe that's why. The alternative explanation is because I'm not italian. Even though I know there is some nationalistic bias at my restuarant, I choose to believe that I earn what I receive. It beats being angry. I generally prefer to not be angry. In fact, recently I started thinking of negative thoughts as temptations from Satan.

I'm not getting fundamentalistic. "Satan" is a concept to me that communicates the destructive, self-serving tendancies that are so easy to submit to, and so difficult to escape once you have begun to embrace them.

More on that later. Life is as good as it gets. Always hard, but everyday there is good. What do you want, a cookie?

Ridin' the wave

Whew... two double shifts on the boat show weekend. I came close to making my rent in two days, and my body is sooo sore. I'm tired, I've had a couple beers, about to go to bed, and I just read about the violence in libya. I moved back in with my friend this morning, sort of, I met her and picked up the keys. It is late, I'm not ready to sleep, and I don't want to disturb her. So... libya.

I had the thought that this could turn into a third world war. Then I realized that already happened in iraq. I thought about the whole middle east in turmoil, and about the fact that we can still get some of our oil fix from south america and russia, and I wonder if they can supply enough. I wonder if the violence will ever spread to saudi arabia, that would be a milestone, and I wonder if president obama will be able to keep a cool enough head to let them work it out and keep us out of a fourth world war.

I left work at about 12. I went to our sister restuarant for a couple beers. Some guy who did some time in afghanistan was there with his civillian steroid buddy, drunk, and got beligerent in the bartenders face, then slapped the manager, then was ugly with the owner. The owner is an italian guy who I've liked from the start. He dealt with the guy very gracefully. I liked it when at one moment when the drunk guy didn't hear what the owner said. The owner said, "I'm sorry, I know I have a strong accent, too". The drunk guy was saying he was being discriminated against because he's puerto rican.

They took off, I left. Went to news cafe, open 24 hours, for a final beer. Happened to get into a conversation with some drunk, rich guy, here for the boat show to buy a 45 foot catamaran. He apparently owns a casino and restuarant in tobago, and wants to fly me down to have a "looksee" because he needs someone to get the restuarant shaped up. Said I'd probably fire all the staff, after I started asking him the pertanent questions.

I had to walk him back to his hotel. Mio dio, was he drunk as a skunk. I left a wake-up call for him. We're supposed to have dinner tomorrow night at one of the best restuarants on south beach. I'm not gonna hold my breath, but who knows? We'll see...

So I dumped him in his bed, and came back to the news for one more beer. It is almost three. I'm not thinking much about the middle east anymore, but I think we all need to pay attention. Tomorrow I will read about what I can't really do anything about, but atleast I will know what the media wants me to know. I work at twelve. I need to go to bed. I'm a little worried about going to my new home. I need to be quiet.

Sometimes I just wait, sometimes I just try to keep up.

No-brainer

So last night I'm not too far from bed and I get a text from my former friend and roommate saying she needs money and will pay me back next month. She said she lost her job, and has only saved half her rent. She says maybe she should go back to paris. She says she went on a two day binge again. I make sure she is okay. I tell her if I give her money I may not have enough to get my own apartment. I say I would come back for maybe three months, and I'm going to bed so text me in the morning.

In the morning I check craigslist. The place I saw last month, the one I've been waiting for, is being advertised again. It is a studio with three beds. $550 a month, no deposit, no lease, and it is only two blocks from my job. Perfect. Its like a hostel with an affordable rate, and no stay limit.

Its about 9:00 am, and my friend hasn't contacted me. I've decided I am definitely calling this guy to book the place this evening. I am 30 seconds from making the call, and my friend texts. She says maybe she made a bad decision, and let's meet to talk tonight.

Did I mention that my god loves to fuck with me? What should I do? For me its a no-brainer. I follow my heart. I have unresolved business with my friend, and this may be a chance to resolve it. Emphasis on may. And also, it is the wrong choice in terms of stability and moving toward my boat. I really need a stable, cheap place to stay where I can save and meditate until my boat arrives.

I wonder who thinks moving back in with my friend is a bad choice? They are the same ones who will tell me I have to live with the consequences of my choices. I don't think I could live with myself if I turned my back on my friend. Its a matter of priorities. To me, it is more important to help a friend in need than to make myself secure. I trust my god. He will always take care of me, and he puts me exactly where he wants me. But in times like this, it seems I always have a choice. Like god is saying, "ok mark, you can have what you want, or you can do what I want. And by the way, if you do what I want, others are going to say you made the wrong choice. But if you do what I want, you know I will take care of you."

So like I said, a no-brainer. We are meeting in about 30 minutes. I will gladly suffer financially to help her. That may not be necessary, we will see. I will have my boat exactly when god says I can have it, no sooner, no later. In the mean time, if I am lucky, god will use me as his instrument. Am I delusional? Maybe. But in this life I have found a voice that I believe to be from god. I get my instructions from somewhere between my heart, my brain, and my gut. The voice is consistent, and I have chosen to live my life according to it, and to foresake the reason of others. It makes my life a little chaotic somtimes, but it is almost never dull.

What do you call a buddhist who believes in god? Confused?

More to come...

Where's that confounded bridge?

I feel the heaviness of loss on my shoulders a lot lately. My soulmate is gone, my best friend kenny, the chihuahua. I lost a career in hotel management that was just getting started, someone I thought was a really good friend, and now my most recent roommates at the hostel left today. They were a very nice couple from virginia. She was born there and works for fannie mae. He was from ethiopia and did I'm not sure what. We shared a room for three nights, watched shawshank redemption together a couple nights ago, and had a couple beers last night. And then there's my dad who I lost many decades ago, and am finally just now realizing that I may never have a bond with him.

I remember when kenny was with me, thinking I know I will outlive him and will have to deal with being without him. It is one of the three central tenants of buddhism. Nothing is permanent. In everything that is we would do well to recognize that one day it will be gone. I'm not actively grieving, I don't think, maybe I'm just seeing another side of the impermanence of everything.

Like I said, I'm heavy with loss lately.

The rates at all the hostels here double starting in march, because of spring break. That means I need to either find a really cheap studio, or think about living in my truck again. The cost of most of the studios that I've found would wipe out my savings for first, last, and deposit. Then I would be struggling to make rent every month. The hostels would only cost a little more, and the rates are only high for about three months. So maybe that's an option.

The weather is getting warmer now. It just might be possible to shave and shower outdoors again. Two months without having to pay rent might give me enough to buy the boat. I think maybe I could use that portable personal shelter that my grad-student friend is working on about now.

I know in the depth of my soul that everything will be alright. God wants me here, for some reason, and he will take care of me for as long as it takes. When I'm done, I will be released from this life. Then I will probably have to do it again as a woman. And there is no doubt in my military mind that I'm going to meet my father again. Probably he will be my pain-in-the-ass son next time...

That's just how it works. Life is much easier if you do the hard stuff first. There's nothing easy here. Pain, discomfort, and dhuky. Its all part of the price of admission. But mark my words, I will get the boat. Because even though god loves to fuck with me, he also loves me and takes care of me. And he would not have cursed me with this obsession without having some beautiful ending in mind. Only problem is, god has a weird sense of humor.

I hear bob marley calling....

things always work out

My horoscope in the miami herald yesterday said I should buy that whatchamajigger that I've been wanting. I thought it meant my boat, but I before the night was out I bought a pair of earphones for my phone. The ones that came with it were uncomfortable and they were difficult to keep in my ears. The ones I bought are comfortable, they fit securely, they sound very good, and they have rubber covers so I can run with music if I want. I spent more than I normally would have, but the horoscope said I should, and I am very happpy with them. Maybe I will let the miami herald be my oracle...

If reincarnation really happens, I want to come back as a tree, or maybe as a chihuahua.

The manager that I work with the most assigns sections each day based on who comes to work first. I figure that's fair; reward the ones who want to work. This morning I arrived 15 or 20 minutes early, like always. One of my coworkers was already there, she drops her daughter off at daycare early, and always arrives early. I clocked in and started setting up. She texted, or surfed the internet, or whatever for another 15 minutes before she started working. When we were about to open the manager asked me who was here first. I said I was, I figured the question was who was working first...

We'll, that's not what she figured, and she got pretty pissed. When the three of us were together trying to resolve this descrepancy, I said she was, in fact, here first, but I was working first. That floated like a lead baloon with her. He gave the best section to her. No worries, we all get what we need, and there is enough for everybody. Atleast that's what I think, but not everyone shares my view. She was actually really mad at me. I tried to tell her I wasn't trying to steal anything, that I was speaking the truth according to my best understanding. She didn't buy it. She treated me like I was her ex-husband trying to take advantage of her.

Well, I don't like conflict, and I don't like hard feelings. I tried again to clarify my feelings with my coworker, but my attempt didn't just fall on deaf ears, I could see that anything I said would only aggrivate her and make her respond aggressively. I let it go and focused on serving my guests while staying out of her way.

By the end of the day we were sort of speaking again. At the end of the day I sold a lot more than she did.

If reincarnation really happens, I don't want to come back as a woman. But knowing my god, that's probably what he'll do to me. Maybe I was a woman in my last life? I was reminded today of my roommate who still refuses to be my friend again. She told me I should be more careful of what I say. I thought about that a lot today. Was I inconsiderate of my coworker? Was I following a subconscious personal adgenda?

No, I spoke the truth to my best understanding. I did assume that giving the best station to who arrives first was a reward for job commitment. Apparently that's not exactly true. Apparently today I walked square into a large pile of dhuky. Oh well, what're ya gonna do? Today I learned again that everyone doesn't see things like I do. And god took care of me anyway. I have everything I need. It is a very good and reassuring feeling. I wish I could share it.

What would the world be like if we all believed that we each have everything we need? I think pretty good.

I don't really want to come back as a chihuahua, because neurotic women often have chihuahuas. Best to be a tree. Maybe I will be cut down and turned into a book of poetry. With the internet though, its more likely I would be turned into toilet paper. But hey, I would still be helping to clean up dhuky, right?

Its beautiful in florida tonight. I still don't have my boat. This Sunday I move to a different hostel. I am happy with my life and secure in the knowledge that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing, even if I don't always like it. I have great streaming reggae whenever I need it, what else could I ask for?

Back in bidness

I think I am in heaven. I got my new phone. I downloaded this application called pandora radio that a couple friends have told me about. You enter a favorite artist, and it starts playing that kind of music. Anyone who knows me could easily guess Bob Marley would be my first choice. I've been listening to great reggae for 30 minutes now, and I may never take these earphones out. Life is just so much better with reggae music.

Its Friday on south beach. I remember dreading weekends here because all the drunks would be out, interrupting my peace, as I tried to sleep in the bed of my truck. Now, at the hostel, they are mostly in the lobby and outside, so they don't bother me.

When I was out earlier trying to get the last few things done on my day off, I recognized the weekend aggitation that is so pronounced here. Some are anxious to start their weekends, or already have. Others are anticipating, or are already experiencing the impatience of the self-absorbed horde. Soon to be the self-absorbed, drunk horde.

I had coffee today with an archetecture grad student who is designing a personal, portable, maybe wearable, shelter system. He wanted to talk to me because of my experiences being homeless, he learned about me from his archetetural theory professor, who happens to be married to my former major professor. First off, the two professors are a couple of the coolest people I know, and second, this guy had an awesome idea that is potentially very meaningful on many levels. Its the sort of thing that could help homeless people in a direct survival way, but also help by making them less offensive to the rest of society. Maybe even a resource. I guess I shouldn't publish any details, but I really enjoyed meeting him, and hope to follow his progress.

So I started looking for boats today. Its still too early; I don't have enough money yet, but it is time to start looking. I'm exploring where is the best for me to live.

...

Saturday after work now, I just kind of drifted off last night listening to reggae, then chicago blues, then classic blues. I don't have my earphones now, so maybe I'll finish this posting.

I think, no, I know I am happy to be back at the hostel. I am sad about how things ended with my friend, but I am happy to lose the ties that I accepted there. Attachment to an apartment, and a mutual dependence. Living in hostels is a little irritating, but I like the freedom to be able to move anytime I want.

Sometimes in the morning when I'm shaving, I reflect that I have been transient for seven months now. And I remember that it is the lifestyle that I chose, and the one that I want. But I want to have a permanent, mobile livingspace. A lifespace that I can take anywhere in the world I want, and that is powered by the wind and the tide, not by petroleum; a sailboat.

I am digging this phone. They fixed a lot of things I didn't like about the first generation. There are still a couple bugs I've found, but they kept the good stuff, and overall I'm happy. Need to get a better pair of earphones, and tweek the preferences a little, but for the most part, bravo t-mobile,

I'm still hanging on to my higher power and trusting that he is living through me. My challenges are pretty small.

Okay, I have to confess, I put the earphones back on, and I've got some ziggy marley streaming. I've had a couple beers, and I am definitely losing my focus on this blog. I probably need to just post it.

Love the camera in this phone. I even have a flash now. Great pictures to come, I'm sure.

Never a dull moment

I'm getting excited, and I am trying to contain it. I am feeling like it may actually be time to get the boat. I have a very little money saved, but enough to buy a boat that is smaller than I wanted. I have a friend who knows about power boats and has lived here for around eight years. He knows a lot of people, and he has offered to help. I am living in the hostel, so I have no kind of commitment to any land-based accommodation. I could concievably significantly increase my boat fund within a month with out inconveniencing myself. It just might be time...

Then again, you never know, there might be some unforseen savings-dessimating event on my horizon. I will get a boat exactly when god says I can have one. Not not a minute before nor after. And I sure do like the idea that the moment might be soon approaching.

I am still trying to process what happened with my roommate. I still can't find my culpability, other than just engaging in the first place. I don't think she knows how to end a relationship without violence (I'm talking about emotional violence here), and when you are tied to someone like that, I think, you just have to go through it. I still don't know what I could have done differently. Had I left when I recognized what was going on, I still would have been the bad guy. I guess now I know what will happen when I engage with a kind and generous, yet unstable, attractive french lesbian who has two kids, a cat, and a jack russel puppy. I'm glad I met her, and sad things ended the way they did.

I'm also happy because my two year contract on this phone ends this Friday. In two days I get a new phone. Its a good thing because now I can't even close the thing without losing my display. By the way, just in-case my ex-wife is reading, the word that means one who never wins is spelled loser, not looser. I love hearing how all the solicitors try to pronounce it. Its the little things that make life fun...

So, right, boat maybe on the way. Maybe smaller than I want, but I'm sure perfect in every way. Gods will is perfect, his love is sufficient. I still have everything I need, everyday. I've decided that if reincarnation actually happens, I want to come back as a tree.

Balance

My ex-wife is still spamming me. In a way I like it, I get emails and texts all the time, and I spend 10-15 minutes twice a day deleting and unsubscribing. It appears to an outsider that I have an active social life. So thank you, viktoria, keep it up, and thank you to whoever gave her my email and/or blog address.

Am I becomming a grumpy old man? I seem to be pissing people off lately. My former roommate seems to think I'm an asshole, and that's how my bartender friend treated me when I asked for my CDs back that I loaned her a week ago. Maybe I didn't say it right, maybe I am an asshole.

I do know that now that I'm not living with someone who gets pissed off at me daily has improved my attitude at work. I know this because my guests tell me they think I am the best thing since sliced bread, and they tip me accordingly. On the flip-side though, the two waitresses that I work with think I'm an asshole.

The people I respect seem to like me and treat me well though, so what should I think? Should I play grab-ass more at work to make them like me? Should I accept that I am an asshole and reconcile myself to a life of rejection from immature people who don't understand quality or service? Am I a bitter, grumpy old divorced and ugly man? Yes, according to my deceased ex-mother-in-law, god give her peace.

The picture is a portugese man-o-war. Very pretty on the outside, and painful as hell if you get too close and touch it. Kinda reminds me of me. I'm sure not pretty, but I seem to interest people until they get close enough to touch me. Then I don't know what happens. I seem to sting them because they recoil and then frequently attack. I don't mean to seem self-pitying, I'm not. I am being as true to my nature as I can be. If I irritate others, it creates an opportunity to learn. About me, and about them. It doesn't necessarily make me wrong. Life is full of dhuky, and I guess sometimes I am an instrument of dhuky.

I prefer to be an instrument of peace, but I'm not divine, and I'm still learning.

So life goes on here. It is for sure a long strange trip, if you pay attention. It is sunset now, and the clouds have the appearance of self-illumination that makes you feel like you are inside a salvador dali painting. I hear a woman walking by scolding her friend in italian, before and after the rumble of a passing harley-davidson motorcycle. Its about 72 degreeshere on the corner of 3rd and meridian avenue, and I have found peace again.

Another day

The adventure is not over. Why am I not surprised? My former friend and former roommate has gone over to the dark side. Not really, but she does seem to hate me, for reasons unknown to me. I have to take it on faith that she is getting exactly what she needs. It makes me sad to lose a friend, and sad to think she is worse off now. Then again, she is here, she has a decent job, she still has a good place to live. If I hadn't been here, she would probably be back in paris, where she doesn't want to be. So maybe I did my part. I hope so. She was very good to me, and I wish I could see a happier ending.

I'm at the hostel again. It kinda sucks, but then again, I am meeting good people again, and no one is dumping anger on me every day. Consequently, I feel better at work, I give better service, and I make more money. I don't know yet where I will go next, but I am gaining confidence daily that, once again, or still, I am doing exactly what and when I am supposed to be doing. Like I'm waitng for my next assignment. I'm starting to like people again, and I figure that's a good thing. Still I grieve for my friend.

So I met a guy this time at the hostel who told me he and some mates were going to buy a car and drive to california. I'm not sure, and I'm too lazy to check, but I think I wrote about another guy a few months ago who said the same thing. That guy didn't get the car, and I'm not sure if they eventually rented one or not. But this guy actuall got a car; a ford explorer. They leave on Tuesday. Apparently flying to america, buying a car, and driving across country is the non-american equivalent of flying to europe, buying a eurorail pass, and exploring the continent.

When I met the guy, I didn't tell him someone else had already attempted, and failed, to do the same thing. I told him after he got the explorer. It was very cool to watch him succeed. It gives me hope that I will be one of the ones who actually does get the boat and sails around the world. I have no delusions that I am the first. There's nothing new under the sun, right?

So here I am on south beach, waiting and looking for the next right thing. Life is good, and there is as much dhuky now as there ever was. Good people respect me, and I am contributing my little bits every chance I get. What else can you expect from life?

Let's see, warm breezes, a steady blow at your back, and a cold beer. Thank you god for letting me spend some time here.

These be the good old days

This is when I love florida. Every year there is atleast one day when most of the country is getting pounded by winter, and I get to wear shorts and flip-flops and not sweat a drop. Every year in february there is atleast one day when I say I love florida.

I don't meditate in any traditional sense of the word. I don't set aside any time during the day to meditate. Instead, I consider my life a meditation. I cultivate inner peace every waking moment.

I haven't written in a few days because I have been recreating my peace. I've been back in the hostel for two days now. It was maybe three or four days ago that I recognized the life-is-meditation thing. I need peace when I'm not at work so I can be peaceful and give good service when I am. And its not just about serving my guests, its also about serving those I work with. Creating good energy around me. And to do that, I need peace and routine and rest when I'm not working. That's why I moved out.

I have somehow come to be a constant source of irritation to my roommate. I have absolutely no idea how that happened. And I also learned that I still don't deal well with people being angry with me for reasons that I don't understand. If I screw up, I make amends. I get that. But when I make someone angry by just being alive, I have the potential to become a little aggressive.

I'm not minimizing. When I feel attacked, in this case, I respond with enough aggression to thwart further attacks. And I'm not happy about that. I would prefer to bend like a reed. Instead, I create a wall.

So things got violent in egypt today. Three people so far have died... I don't have a feel yet for the movement. I hope they can stay non-violent.

Everything is as it should be, and I am in transition now. That's not a real comfortable space for me, but I do know things will work out just fine. It is february in florida; sunshine, highs in the 70's, lows in the 60's. I have a warm, dry, pretty quiet place to sleep, I have food, and I'm making anough money to stay alive. Whatelse do you need? My soulmate will come back eventually,and my sailboat is steaming toward me like a locomotive. These be the good old days...

Beautiful endings

I'm sad. I don't understand people at all. Almost all the people I meet need something. I need almost nothing. I certainly won't ask anything of you. I don't understand why people keep getting angry with me, or disappointed because I don't give them what they need. If they would tell me what they need I would either do my best to give it to them, or tell them why I can't. But people don't tell me what they need. They seem to expect me to know without them saying. As if it is just obvious. But nothing is obvious. I know what I need, and I am the sole owner of that need. Why do others expect me to meet their needs without them owning the need themselves?

I still feel like an alien. Lile I got dropped off here and now by accident. My understanding of life doesn't seem to match with anyone else's understanding.

So what do I do? I trust my higher power. I am here, and I am here in someone else's life because that's where I am supposed to be. To play my single, solitary note at the exact moment in the universal symphony that it is required. And god tells me when to play it.

So, I come to the ocean for the peace that it gives me. I don't know what I am supposed to be doing in this life, but I trust that my father knows, and that he will put me exactly where and when he wants me.

Tommorow I move back to the hostel. I have my reservation, and enough money to pay for a week, or as long as I need. I'm sad to lose a friend, but I don't want, or have to live somewhere where someone gets angry with me every 10-14 days. I am what I am. God thinks I'm beautiful, and that's all I need. His will is perfect, his love is sufficient.

Nothing else to say, except that the waves are calm, the breeze is a kind of january florida cool, my boat is speeding toward me like a locomotive, and everything is exactly as it should be. Peace, love, and a beautiful sunset to you.

There's somethin' happenin' here

...what it is ain't exactly clear.

Is anyone checking out what is happening in north africa and the middle east? Best I can figure at the moment, there are a bunch of pissed off young people who have used electronic social networking to cause their governments some major headaches.

I've said it before and will say it again, the internet will be the single most important event in our evolution as a species since we developed opposing thumbs and a hypertrophied forebrain. It is what allows our forebrains to manifest a universal consciousness.

As far as I can tell so far, some people who are living under autocratic and oppressive leadership in places where the internet has allowed them to communicate with people who live in places where the ideas of freedom, equality, and justice are part of the fabric of life, are getting pissed off and comming together to demand change. It is the beginning of a global community. Power-loving dictators who survive by isolating their populace are on their way out. Aggression between nations, and one day, between individuals is comming to an end. Aggression is a primitive response to base desire. There is enough for everyone, and someday we will all learn how to share. How long will it take? I don't know. I am amazed at the changes since I was born. We had black and white tv when I was born, now we are close to having interactive holograms. Maybe we do already, its been awhile since I visited disneyworld.

We have a long way to go, but I am encouraged. Life evolves, it grows along the lines of good. Give a plant water and light, and it will become something beautiful. You don't have to do anything but leave it alone.

So Mr.Obama, Ms.Clinton, will you do right by humanity? Our national boundaries need to disolve. I know it won't happen in your tenure, but do you know that nationalism is a form of ignorance? Probably. Ancient chinese curse; may you live in interesting times...

I'm just speculating here, but I love watching it all happen. I hope we don't see successful repression of their movement. If it starts to happen, I really think we all need to say something.

Today is my soulmate's birthday.

A good day off

Still love south beach. Sitting at my old employer, news cafe, at the bar I was tending on september 11, 2001. Its my day off, and I took a risk and treated myself to a martini. Only one, they've caused me too much trouble in the past. Plus,I asked for kettle one, and I got something else, I'm pretty sure. Atleast it wasn't choked with vermouth. Anyway, there's a retired german couple to my left, a french woman of algerian descent to my right, and the bartender works two days a week here, and is five years away from retiring from a federal job at the airport. That makes him three years younger than me, but he looks ten years older. I don't know how I got so lucky, but I'm pushing 50 now and it is just sort of beginning to show, maybe I'm deluding myself. My grandmother says others say she doesn't look a day over 70. Maybe that's where I get the good genes.

Not that I'm worried, I am trying to make a daily light workout a habit. I don't push myself too hard, and I only care right now that I do it. I'm not trying to make myself attractive, those days are gone. I'm trying to lengthen my life a little. I'm getting old and I still don't have my boat. It is a secret fear that I will finally get it and then be diagnosed with cancer, or be too out of shape to take care of myself on a liveaboard.

Made it an early night and just finished some gnocchi with alfredo, portabello mushroom, and grilled chicken. My goodness, I forgot how good a cook I am...

My poor roommate has the flu. She finally gave up and took tomorrow off after staying in bed all day today. I've been nursing her to the best of my abilities, and within her tolerance. She should have had some gnocchi, instead she had marshmellow treats, and is now snoring. She needs more fluids, but atleast she is resting.

The french algerianchick had it all figured out. She's in her late 20's, maybe early 30's, and she definitely knew more than me or the bartender, both atleast a decade older. That's okay. When I was that age I also looked at 40-50 year old servers and figured they had nothing to teach me. That makes me a loser in my own 30 year old eyes, and just young in my almost 50 year old eyes. I'm ok with how I spent the last 15 years of my life. I didn't become a millionnaire, but I'm more enlightened, and in better shape than a lot of people my age. There I go comparing again. Waste of time.

Just finished watching cadilac records about the chess recording studio, muddy waters, little walter, chuck berry, and etta james. Can't figure out yet why I identify so much with them, but the movie always gives me hope when I watch it. It should depress me, but it doesn't. Makes me think about my soulmate. She's out there, thinking about me. And I'm here, thinking about her. That's why she's my soulmate. No matter what seperates us, we are still together and always will be. Love will see us through, at last.

A unique and beautiful singularity... I like that

I'm still grateful. I love south florida and south beach, despite, and because of all the unusualness. I like walking on the beach, and on meridian avenue. Meridian is lined by these huge, gnarly oaks. Atleast I think they are oaks. They give lots of shade, and break up the sidewalk. I hate uniformity, except in my work, and there is so much variety here.

I am thriving. I knew this is where I was supposed to be, and my life over the past seven months proves it to me. I feel like I took a wrong turn ten years or so ago, and now I'm finally back on the right path.

I like the archetecture, and the population. I like the feel of wild florida, even though it is only a whisper here. I miss backpacking on the west coast, and I think I need to make a point of doing that before it gets too hot. Just two or three days, by myself. Wish kenney could be with me. He'd like it too.

Its funny how so many people think they know what I should be doing. Maybe I invite it by not telling others what they should do. Sometimes it bothers me, but usually I just find it curious how anyone can think they have it together enough to tell someone else what to do. The best psychotherapists that I've met never told me what to do. They helped me find my own inner guide.

And judging others? Fuhgetaboutit. What could possibly make me think that I know anything about what anyone else is going through? Maybe I've done similar things. Maybe I've made similar mistakes. But how I got there, and what I learned, and what I did after, are all unique to me. I can share these experiences, but please don't let me think that I really know what anyone else is going through, or what they should be doing.

It sounds like I'm worring a lot about what others think. I'm not really. I do what I do and let others do the same. You like me, you don't like me, it doesn't much matter. My family thinks I'm doing well, they think I'm screwing up. Same thing. I'm going to keep on living my life according to what I believe to be my own truth. We are all alone, from birth to death. And that finite amount of time seems to go faster and faster the farther you get. If you don't find your own path, your own way, you are wasting a most precious gift... but then again, maybe not. I bet there are some interesting lessons to be learned from following others. For me though, that's going to have to wait for the next lifetime.

I'm just noticing that some people around me, who care about me, think that they know better how to live my life. I have a lot of joy, and true, a lot of pain, but my life is good. Let me share my joy with you, and if you are strong enough, my pain too. Pain shared is pain halved, afterall. And let me be. Be as in the verb, to exist as a unique and beautiful singularity.

I think that's enough for tonight.

Temporary respite

Yup, I'm still ok. I didn't move out. We had a couple pissed off days, but in the end we talked it out and came up with some rules we both agreed on and could both live with. She's my friend again, and I'm glad.

She has a friend who she thinks she could love. This friend might come here in a couple months. My roommate is nervous. She's considering a relationship, and even though it is uncertain, and a long way away, she is confronting her own vulnerability. I am happy for her, and I hope it happens. She deserves someone good, and I can't imagine leaving her alone. We will see...

A mutual friend has a scooter he is trying to get rid of. I've been looking for a project, other than my truck, and I'm thinking about getting this scooter and learning how they work. I think I could have some fun with it.

My grandmother asked me why I always have trouble with others. It was the kind of deflating, off-handedly cruel remark she is known for. The kind that makes women new to the family cry. When she said it, several smart-ass, and equally cruel responses came into my head, but what came out was "I don't know grandma ginnie, maybe that's just life". Maybe I'm a loser because I take chances and develop relationships with slightly unstable but interesting people. I definitely don't take the safe choices, almost as a rule. What fun is life if you already know what's going to happen? Why would you want a mcdonalds on every corner?

I've found myself lately getting irritated with all the childish behavior around me. Its something you have to deal with eventually on south beach. Pretty soon after you decide to be a responsible adult here you realize there aren't many who share your values. When a savings account is more important to you than a cool bicycle, you suddenly have a misplaced set of values. You can either accept being uncool, or move twenty blocks in any direction.

South beach is like neverneverland. I haven't met peter pan yet, but I have met quite a few who wannabe.

Our cat is in heat again. We have a week or so of her driving the still-sexually-immature jack russel puppy, billy, crazy to look forward to because my roommate is against animal birth control. I'm just glad I can close the bedroom door and let her deal with those unsatisfied female hormones. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe she will have a chance to work on some of her own stuff. I feel so... for her.

Part of me wishes I could feel that again too. But I've found my soulmate. I keep looking, but it seems all I'm really doing is waiting for her to come back to me. I sure don't want to be with someone who cares about how much other people are looking at them. And that's all I seem to find here. Its really crazy, and funny if you have the heart to laugh at, the lengths people here go to to get others to look at them.

I go nuts when I have to tear the bartender away from his facebook to make me a damn espresso. Sometimes I just make it myself. Afterall, he has another job, and I know this gig is just to earn a couple extra bucks in his spare time. Still, this is my bread and butter, and when you make my table wait because suzyQ says iloveyou, I gonna get a little miffed.

So I'm still here sportsfans. Living quietly in a land of rock stars. Happy to be me and to have my simple problems. My belly has once again become my biggest problem. I worry about working out enough and quitting smoking. Though I am curious to see how this frustration with the superficiality of south beach plays out. I'm sure not going to change it, and I'm not moving. I'm here to give good service to all the children of the world who come here to play, so they will tip me well, so I can buy my boat, so I can sail away and be an adult somewhere else.

Germans and control

Thank god for the beach. I can come here and be quiet and listen to the wind and the waves roll in.

My ex-wife is having a lot of fun tonight. About 14 emails so far. I finally just turned the volume off on my phone. I will unsubscribe tomorrow.

My roommate is mad now because I had a glass of wine at home. I think its time to change homes.

I used to think men were the more controlling gender of the species. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe I just attract controling women. Do I look like I need a mother?

Thank god for the beach, if I couldn't come here and hide, I might get aggressive. And I have never become aggressive withouit regretting it later.

Tomorrow I move. I can't live by someone elses rules. Especially someone who thinks a dog is an animal, i.e. sub-human. Dogs are supra-human. Humans are sub-canine. And I don't need another mother.

F-word. I'm surrounded by germans. I don't like germans. I'm out of here.

Ramblings while I wait for directions

It is a little funny to me that I woke up this morning and deleted the posting I wrote last night. I thought about it all day, and I'm still not sure why I did it. I'm not ashamed. Its more paranoia. I finally have a decent life circumstance after two years of tumbling, and I don't want to lose it.

I want to share who I am, and my choice to stop paying my bills is a critical piece of information. And also I am affraid someone will call my debtors and say, "hey, he has a little money now, here's where you can find him". But I'm not hiding from anyone. I'm not sharing my address, but my phone is the same. I do trust that god will give me my boat when its time, but I'm human, and want to make it happen as soon as I can. I'm getting old, and I want to sail while my body is still working well enough to do it.

I don't understand why my ex-wife thinks I owe her money. Especially after so long ignoring my calls, texts, and emails. She apparently thinks I wronged her, but I was there too, and as far as I can tell it was just two people who weren't right together. Anyway, its history. She can chase me as long as she needs to, I'm not going to retaliate. Or give her any money...

I live one day at a time. I like my mornings, drinking coffee and reading my books. I like my work, it keeps me humble. I like drinking and writing my blog at night. I like pulling the weeds of life on my days off. Cultivating inner peace, that's it. That's what I do because it seems like the only thing worth doing. I'm too old to build an empire, I don't have children. I have a soulmate who I hope to one day reunite with, and I know that at the moment I have not much to offer. So I cultivate peace in my mind and in my life while I save for the boat.

I'm starting to bore myself again. Life is challenging. It is often uncomfortable. But there is also a lot of good. A lot to smile about. I try to smile more than I frown. That's enough for tonight.

Fwd: Nothing new under the sun

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: "mark kilburn" <mkilbu01@gmail.com>
Date: Jan 14, 2011 9:33 PM
Subject: Nothing new under the sun
To: <go@blogger.com>

So my ex-wife has somehow found my new email address, and she has my phone number (I haven't changed it since I got my first cell phone nine years ago), and she has decided it would be fun to register me for every online promotion and mailing list she can find. It started with confirmation of my profile on match.com. actually, no, it started with registering me with publishers clearing house,then match,com, then tax relief, AT&T, vonage, and a few others that I forget now.

Today I've received about 12 junk email promotions, and easily 20 phone calls.

I spent about 15 minutes unsubscribing to mailing lists, and maybe 20 seconds clearing the record of missed calls. I figure she had to spend two or three times that registering me, so I'm ahead. She doesn't know I have plenty of practice ignoring calls from bill collectors. Now there's an aggressive bunch.

A couple years ago I had a pretty nice 50K/year hotel management job. My general manager was transferred, and they brought in a very nasty replacement. This person hated me before they even started the job. It took five months to get rid of me. I had a sizable credit card debt from youthful indescretion that I had contracted a debt management company to help me get on top of. I was doing pretty well for close to two years until I got fired.

I talked to the debt management company about my change in circumstances. They recommended I file bankruptcy, and referred me to a lawyer. Said I would get a discount. The lawyer said "no problem, we can take care of all of your debt, and it will only cost you $1500... up front". Well, if I had $1500, I probably would have tried to negotiate with my creditors. Since I didn't, I became banckrupt without filing for court protection. I just stopped paying.

Talk about a beehive... for a couple months, I got calls every 20 minutes, from 8:30 am until 9:00 pm. Holidays excluded. Eventually, most of the companies sold my accounts to debt collectors and wrote me off as bad debt. The collectors continued to harass me by phone for a few more months. But even they seemed to have limits.

I still get a few calls a week from automated systems, and maybe three a month from attorneys. And I still can't afford to file bankruptcy.

Anyway, my point is that now my ex-wife is harassing me, but she doesn't have a chance. It just tells me this is the worst she can do. I'm sure I could be found, but it would take a little time and money. More than anyone would get if they eventually did find me.

I went off the grid awhile ago. Now I have a job, and someone might eventually garnish my wages. They might take my tax refund. But I live on tips, and they can't touch those.

I don't know, I generally prefer to play by the rules. But when the rules make it impossible for me to play, I have to quit the game. So my credit score is in the toilet. I don't need credit. If I can't pay cash, I can't afford it. The only thing I want to own is a cheap boat. I expect to work until I die.

An honest days work for an honest dollar. I can live with that. When I can't work, I will die. And if you want something from me that I don't owe you, you are going to be waiting a long time.

I'm not beligerant. I don't expect anything from anyone. I don't want anything I don't earn, and I will always give to avoid conflict. But I have limits. I have a right to live my life unmolested. And if you molest me, I have a right to avoid you. My intention is to live a quiet life, sharing peace and love where and when I can. As long as I follow that path god will watch my back. He has already shown me.

So I am watching with detached humor to see how much my ex-wife really hates me. It has been three years or so since she divorced me, five since we have talked, and six since I've seen her when I went to europe to support her when she burried her mother. I can't help feeling sad for someone who can blame someone else for their misfortune for so long. I did it with my family, my parents, for a long time. It was very liberating when I finally let go of all expectation that anyone would rescue me. I do pray that she will find the same peace. And in the mean time, I can ignore more phone calls and unsubscribe to more promotions than she can sign me up for.

I'm guessing one or two months.

Work is the same. I made my signature caesar salad with grilled chicken tonight for my roommate who still has a cold. Went to the beach for a little while. Its january, and the ocean is still there. The waves still pile on to the shore, and the moon still moves from east to west every night. I'm still alive, and I am grateful.

Peanut butter

Have you noticed that the days are getting longer? Its funny how that means the sun is getting closer, but it won't get warmer for another month. I love florida in the winter. A cold day is when I have to wear jeans and a thermal shirt. Still, its too cold, I have to move further south.

I am closing in on my boat. Slowly but surely. One table at a time. And believe me, I earn my money. I'm working on lincoln road now. Lincoln road is now what ocean drive was ten years ago. Its interesting to watch how things change. More about that another time.

I just want to make a brief statement about pasta. I have never had better pasta than at the place I work now. Most of it they make themselves, and they cook it perfectly; al dente. I can't tell you the derivation of al dente, but I can tell you it means a little hard. And the experience is different than I've ever had. I love New Yorkers, but I lose a little respect when they tell me the pasta is hard, so it is over-cooked. First of all, it is cooked perfectly, they are just used to eating over-cooked (soft) pasta.

Second, why do you go some place different and expect it to be the same as your home? How disappointing. When I was getting ready to leave New York, I traveled to a couple different places to see where I might like to live. It was so depressing, because outside of the city, every place was pretty much just like any other. They all had the same stores, similar faux archetecture, and not much that was real and unique.

Now New Yorkers are in my home, getting upset because things here aren't the same as in New York (and, by implication, the correct way). Might as well open a Target on Times Square. A Best-Buy overlooking Central Park. Maybe in Central Park. Don't you travel to experience things that are different? Do you really want things to be the same every where you go?

Ok, I'm getting a little too far out, but I am just trying to make the point that americans seem to want an homogeneous world, and I can't think of much that could be worse. I think of New York, and even South Beach as a couple of the last bastions of individuality. To have New Yorkers come here and tell me the pasta is over-cooked depresses the hell out of me.

Actually, no. It doesn't depress me. There are a lot of people who don't want to try anything new. Who think anything different or strange is bad and scary. They are like children. And they cheat themselves out of the wonder and beauty that is everywhere.

We live in a country that is dominated by this kind of thinking. I moved here, away from a place full of such people. I remember being with a friend after work there, having a glass of wine at a local franchise bar. I had my legs crossed, one knee over the other. I realized that most of the people around me probably thought I was gay because of my posture and my choice of drinks. Not that it matters...

But it did matter there. Here, homosexuals are everywhere, and Guess the Gender can actually be challenging. Sheep. That's what most of this country are. Maybe the world too... now that's a depressing thought. We define ourselves by how we compare with others, and we define others by how they conform to us. I know this sounds so high school, but look around you and tell me it isn't true.

And also...

Inside each ass-hole New Yorker, and every backward Newnanite, and me too, is a little kid who wants to learn new things. Even if they are scary. Its what we do with thumbs and a hypertrophied forebrain. We create, learn, and make our world better. So how did we get stuck on stupid and think there has to be a mcdonalds, a walgreens, and soft pasta wherever we go? Does it have anything to do with television? And will cell phones and the internet make it better or worse?

I need to write about my views on a free market economy and the dissolution of borders in the age of instant global communication. South Beach is definitely a microcosm of much of the globe. This is where the children of the world come to play.

Started my truck today, drove it to the library and back to refresh the battery. It felt good to be able to control a quarter ton of mobile machinery with one finger and a toe. She needs work, but she's a dodge. A soldier, like me. Made it through another day, and looking forward to more again tomorrow.

The days are getting longer, that means I have more time to write. More on communal evolution and the world as a single organism later.

Sorry no picture tonight.