The Musings of a Confused Man

I think I have tried getting my eyeglasses through a chain store for the last time. This is the second time when such a store has proved disappointing. The first time was ten years ago, when I got my pair of glasses at Sears Optical, because that's the store that my employer's insurance could cover. I was deeply offended by the optometrist by that store, who recommended I consider purchasing tinted lenses for "cosmetic purposes" -- that is, to hide the fact that I had a lazy eye from every one. I bought a pair of (untinted, mind you) glasses that day -- something I would not have done had such an even happened after I developed a stronger sense of self -- but swore I'd never go back there again. As a result, I ended up getting my next two pairs of glasses at a nice, individually owned optometrist's office in Wellsboro, PA. It's a shame their office is over three hours away, as I'd still be going there if it was more convenient.

However, when it came time to get new glasses this past fall, it was time to find a new optometrist. To make matters simple, I decided to give Pearl Vision a try. And unlike the jerk at Sears Optical, the optometrist was nice enough. Unfortunately, my experiences with my new glasses have led me to question their quality -- and the quality of the work of Pearl's opticians.

A few weeks ago, my right lens popped out at home on a Sunday night. I checked when Pearl opened the next morning, informed my supervisor I'd be late, and prepared to make a stop at the mall that morning. In the meantime, since I really needed my glasses, I managed to get the lens back in well enough to stay in place for the night. It was obvious to even my untrained eye that it was not properly seated, but it'd do in a temporary situation.

I was standing outside of Pearl vision the next morning when they opened. I walked in, handed them my glasses, explained what happened, and pointed out that while I had managed to get the lens in somewhat, it wasn't seated properly. The woman at the counter took them and told me it would be a few minutes before their optician got in.

The optician came in, took about two minutes, and brought me my glasses. He told me that the screw was loose and he had tightened it. Apparently, that's all he did, because I noticed later that afternoon that the lens was still not seated properly. Apparently, I have a better eye for these things than Pearl's optician.

The next day, I was unsurprised when the lens popped out again. This time, because I was not in a position to take the glasses back to Pearl yet again, I purchased a jeweler's screwdriver, attempted to reseat the lens yet again (and while it was still not perfect, it was a lot better). This time, I even managed to tighten the screw myself. (Of course, loosening it before trying to put the lens back in helped a lot, too.)

This morning, the lens popped out a third time. I wasn't too upset about this. After all, I had reseated it myself and new it was still not a perfect job. This time, I was close to a Pearl Vision store (not the same one I purchased the glasses from or had the first repair job done, though), so I took them in. This time, I was smart enough to leave the lens completely out, forcing their optician to insert the lens herself.

What annoyed me, however, was when the optician brought my glasses back to me. She made the offhanded comment that I should really try to use two hands to take my glasses off (I normally do, but I might have only used one hand there at the office -- hey, I had a lens in one hand!), as it would help keep that from happening again.

Now as a customer, let me explain why I find this comment so annoying. I've been wearing glasses since before I was ten years old. I've owned at least six different pairs, and I this is only the second pair of glasses I've owned that had a lens pop out. The other pair I had a problem with were from back when I was in elementary school (when I was really hard on glasses), and by the time the lens popped out, I'd been wearing them for over two years. This lens popped out before I had been wearing these glasses for four months. An examination of my eyeglasses history tells me that the way I take my glasses off shouldn't matter to whether a lens pops out. And if it does matter with these particular glasses, it tells me that the quality of the glasses is lousy. Perhaps rather than blaming the customer, the optician should report the incident to Pearl corporate so they make sure the quality of their products and services improve. After all, I don't think asking for glasses that aren't prone to having the lens pop out is all that unreasonable. So if it happens again, I will seriously consider looking for a local optometrist and just get a pair of reliable glasses.

And do you know what really scares me about all this? If these glasses are so susceptible to how I take them off, how will they ever survive my two loving and rambuctious nephews when I next spend time with them?

I'm sure I commented earlier on the youth of some of the people working for my current customer. I think I've even mentioned that I think they have a lot of co-ops from RIT working for them. Well, today, I think I met the youngest one of them all. Well, it'd be more accurate to say I saw him, as he was sitting in a meeting and I was passing by the conference room. I'm pretty sure he's a co-op. But now, I find myself wondering if they take co-ops that are still in high school. He looked that young.

He had to be a college kid, and at least a junior at that. But man, he didn't look it. That or everyone's starting to look that young to me because I'm getting so old. I really may need that cane after all.

Today was a great day. I managed to get out of the house around quarter of noon and headed up to the POC to hang out with Belinda during the healing clinic. Nobody showed up today, so we just ended up sitting around and talking. I took my laptop so that Belinda could read the local copy of Journey. She absolutely loved it, though she was frustrated that I hadn't written more. She got to the last page in the series and just sat there going, "That's it?" She also found a couple of typos I made, which I fixed and just uploaded.

When we finally decided to leave the POC, we decided to go to a late lunch at Red Lobster. She had the Shrimp Linguini Alfredo. Not being a seafood fan (but I love the garlic biscuits they serve at Red Lobster), I decided to go with the Cajun Chicken Linguini Alfredo. We both loved our meals, and there were a lot of cute waiters to check out. (We each commented on which ones we liked.)

After lunch, I brought my leftovers back to the house, then decided to go someplace for a walk. I was only a little after five and the day was absolutely beautiful. I decided to drive over to Shoen Place and park so that I could walk the trail along the canal. It was the first time I've walked the trail, and it was absolutely gorgeous. It's surprising how peaceful the area can be. You don't realize it driving along Route 96 in the same area.

After my walk, I ran to Target. I decided that with the weather warming up, I needed some more polo shirts. I only have three, and I can't wear tee shirts on the customer site like I do at my own office. While I was there, I also picked up a new belt. I've either lost weight or it's shifted, because my old belt wasn't doing a good job at holding up my pants anymore.

I also decided to get another package of underwear, as I'm running out of those, too. I had trouble picking out a package. I usually prefer to get a package that just has black and grey underwear in it, but all the packages today had other colors. I finally decided on the package that also had a blue pair and a red pair. I have to admit that I picked that package because something about the idea of wearing red undies amused me.

Overall, it was a pleasant and beautiful day. I'm thinking about topping it off with a movie this evening.

I lost my cell phone this morning. When I got to the customer site, I went to take it off my belt, only to find the belt clip was empty. I couldn't do anything about it, so I prayed that I somehow left it at home (not really a possibility, given the belt clip was with me) and went in to work. After work, I decided to run right home to check. My neighbor came out the front door as I got out of my car. It turns out that I had lucked out. Apparently, I knocked the silly thing off while dusting the snow off my car this morning. My neighbor had come home at lunch and found it. So I thanked him profusely and hopped back into my car to head for Equal Grounds.

I almost went to Jitters here in Henrietta instead. As of yesterday, the POC started having our weekly Meet and Greets there, and I found it an incredibly enjoyable place. However, I decided I wanted the slightly more cozy atmosphere of my old haunt, so I made the drive to the South Wedge. While there, I wrote some erotica and the next chapter of Journey.

While there, a couple other patrons watched Hide and Seek. I glanced up from time to time to watch the giant screen (it was less than four feet from me) for a few seconds, but I mainly focused on the writing. From what I saw, it was a pretty bizarre movie, and I never expected the ending.

The new chapter in Journey is about my longest relationship. It was a strange one to write. I'm finding that as the events I'm writing about get closer and closer to the modern day, it's a little harder to write. Of course, part of that is because the issues Ihave to write about are things I'm still working on in some sense. This became apparent as I wrote the last few paragraphs of this chapter. I realized that the end of that relationship was about realizing what I deserved and demanding it. That's something I'm still working on right now, and the need to continue insisting on the kind of love, affection, and attention I both want and deserve is a lesson that's getting driven home right now.

I figured since I wasn't heading home for the holiday until today, I'd head out a little later in the day so that I could go visit friends at Psychic's Thyme. Michele was working today, and Belinda came up with her for the day, as they planned on spending the evening in the city after the store closed. Char was there, too, which made for a pleasant visit.

Apparently, Michele and Belinda had decided to go to Macaroni Grill. Char decided to join them, and they also invited their friend, Jim. I was also invited, but I figured my mother would kill me if I didn't come home. So I yelled at my friends for picking a day to do something like that when I couldn't join them. Of course, they offered to call my parents that I wouldn't make it home because they'd tied me up, but I didn't figure Mom would buy that. So I came home and missed out on all the fun. Hopefully, it won't be more than a month (and hopefully less) before we have another outing like that.

This coming Wednesday is another COAP game night. I'm already looking forward to it. I've enjoyed the last two game nights I've been to. I especially enjoyed the one two weeks ago because after the games were put away, a few of us stuck around and chatted for a bit. In many ways, that was even more enjoyable than the game playing. Of course, playing the games together helped create an atmosphere where conversation could flow more freely. I'm finding that it's a lot easier to talk once you've spent an hour stealing cards out of each other's hands or screwing each other out of points and talking about getting even the entire time. When you stop and think about it, though, that's rather messed up. The games get rather cutthroat, and yet we're able to set it all aside in the end and act like great friends. But then, I suppose my friends at college had a similar sort of dynamic going in our relationships.

Due to a conversation we got into, Brian commented on the fact that this diary has been pretty focused on my lack of a relationship. I wish I could say he was wrong. But he's not. And that bugs me. I don't want to be desperate for a relationship. I don't want to have it consume me. I really want to get back to that point where I'm okay with being single and stay there.

But it's difficult. Right now, I'm going through this whole thing where I'm becoming more aware of my sexual nature again. And at the risk of giving out too much information, my libido seems to be on the rise right now. It's difficult to be going through these kinds of processes and not feel some stress over the fact that I have no one to explore that side of myself with.

Of course, the other thing I'm starting to realize is that my desire for a relationship is in part a desire to be able to put an end to the socializing thing. As I've said before, this whole thing of getting out more, doing things, and meeting people is all new to me. And while I've enjoyed it, it's not entirely comfortable for me. It's different. And there's that part of me that would like to dream of only doing it until I find my special someone and then retreat back into the familiarity of my comfort zones.

Of course, rationally, I know that'd be a mistake. Truth be told, even if I were to meet the man I'll spend the rest of my life with tomorrow, I still need to work on building up a network of friends and a general social life. I still need to learn to find and enjoy activities. I still need to meet more people and face new experiences. If I was to retreat back into my solitude, even with a wonderful guy who's perfect for me, I'd ultimately be doing myself a horrible disservice.

And yet, I can't deny how attractive or tempting an idea it is right now.

Last night, as planned, I headed over to The Golden Port to meet other COAP members for a late dinner. I arrived a bit late, but found the large group. I ended up sitting down on one end. Marlena sat across from me. I didn't catch the name of the gentleman who sat to my right. When he came, a man by the name of Sam sat to my left.

I haven't entirely made up my mind about how I feel about the experience, to be honest with you. This is because it was a chaotic dinner and there were both high points and low points. I've pretty much decided that I need to attend the same dinner next month and possibly the one after that before I make up my mind about whether I'm going to continue going to them.

In fairness to the group, I was tired by the time I got there. I had worked until 7pm that evening, and my shift had been mentally exhausting. Combine that with the general physical inactivity of a desk job, and you have a state of being that didn't quite put me at my peak for socializing, anyway. Add to that the fact that my natural shyness and tendency towards introversion was trying to assert itself at the same time, and I have to admit that I was not in my element to begin with.

Now, add to this the fact that most of the other dinner-goers had just come from the business forum. Both Zara and Jennie talked to me about the business forum, but I really don't understand much about it other than (1) it serves as a monthly fundraiser for Pride and (2) it involves the consumption of alcohol. So I was tired, feeling introverted, and surrounded by a group of people who were all intoxicated to some degree or another. This is not a good combination when you're empathically gifted. So I spent a couple moments at various points in the dinner just trying to get my already work-addled mind to put my shielding exercises to effective use.

Then there was the minor issue of the fact that I was a newcomer entering into a group situation where everyone else knew each other and were great friends for the most part. I think it's difficult for all but the most socially agressive people to find a way to break in on that sort of situation. So I was finding it difficult to get involved in the conversations that I was able to hear and follow through all the chaos.

Sam and I did talk a bit, however. We didn't say anything earth shattering, mind you. But I will admit that he was a bit more outgoing than the others seated immediately around me, which helped me break the ice a bit better. He was quite funny, and I was able to warm up a bit more after his arrival, for which I'm grateful.

Also, towards the end of the meal, Zara got up from her seat and wandered around so that she could say hello to those who were too far from her while she was eating. She came down and spoke to Sam and I for a while, which was a nice experience. Even that brief conversation improved my own experience a great deal. She told me about the business forum, and encouraged me to attend that as well next month. I haven't made a final decision, though I am certainly considering it. I asked her if they also serve non-alcoholic beverages (the only thing more trying than being an empath around intoxicated people is being an intoxicated empath around intoxicated people -- and possibly even sober people), which I don't think she ever actually answered, come to think of it. Of course, she made sure that Sam and I had been introduced and gotten along. Sam made up this rather amusing melodramatic story about how it had been rough at first and we even had a spat, but we were able to patch things up. It was hillarious, and Estella would've loved it.

So overall, I suppose I did have a good time. At least I had a good enough time that I'm willing to give it another try come May. However, given this experience, I think I'll try to plan ahead a bit. For example, I will do my best to make sure that I don't work longer hours earlier in the day. If at all possible, I'll even try to put in an extra hour or so earlier in the week so I can knock off a bit early. That way, I can get in some meditation and other work to better prepare myself for the chaos. That should help put me in a state where I'm more able to focus on trying to be sociable. And hopefully, as I attend a few more times, I'll start getting to know people better and find it easier to find a place in the various conversations going on.

After deciding to take a night to myself and watching movies on Friday night, I decided to return to the business of exploring my more social nature yesterday. As Michele was working at Psychic's Thyme, I decided to go there for part of the day and hang out with her. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Belinda was also there. As it turns out Belinda had invited her daughter, Min, to stop in and visit too. I have to admit that I had a bit of fun giving Min a hard time, and received at least as well as I gave.

Min and Belinda decided to go to lunch and invited me to go along. I graciously accepted, and we ended up going to the Chinese Buffet in Jefferson Plaza in Henrietta. We had a pleasant lunch and a great conversation. On the way back to the shop, Min took us to her apartment so that Belinda could see it. Min was kind enough to not make me wait in the car. Given the guy we ran into on the way into the apartment building, I was grateful for that.

We parked on the street behind this kid (well, he was probably in his early twenties) who was getting stuff out of his SUV. We headed for the apartment building, only to discover that the young man had the same destination in mind. As I reached the door first, I held it open for the ladies and even waiting the few extra seconds to hold it for the other guy who was just a few steps behind us. Of course, this meant that he passed me, thereby giving me an excellent opportunity to check him out. Naturally, I made excellent use of such an opportunity. Belinda caught me and waited long enough to accuse me of "shameful behavior" once the young man was out of earshot. I simply pointed out to her that I'd actually have to have shame first, and that my lack of shame made it shameless behavior.

Of course, Belinda was pretty sneaky herself. As the three of us approached the small elevator in the building, the same man was busy loading his stuff into the small car. Min waved me to step into the elevator myself and then told Belinda to get in. Instead, she chose to wait for the elevator to come back. She later told me I "owed her" for letting me have some time with the guy alone. Considering we hardly even spoke, I don't feel I owe her anything.

After checking out the apartment and chatting for a bit, we headed back to the shop. Min said her goobyes, as she had work that afternoon. Belinda and I spent the rest of the day hanging out and chatting until the shop closed. As a result, I get to know Tobie and her kids better, which was a pleasure.

I realized just how much I like hanging out there. Psychic's Thyme is one of those places where I feel socially comfortable. It's a place where I have a sense of how I fit in, and I can usually get a conversation going with someone. But it's also a place where I feel confident saying hello to the random people who come and go through the day. I realized it's perfectly natural for me to greet customers as they enter and say goodbye as they leave. This is especially beneficial in those situations where those actually working there are busy with other matters (like ringing a purchase up) and therefore aren't able to do so themselves. And of course, if a customer is in the mood to make a bit of conversation while shopping, I've found I can do that as well.

I hope that as I continue to come to Equal Grounds and attend various COAP events, I find myself develop a similar sense of safety and self-confidence there. In reality, that's exactly what I need, so that I can feel safe enough opening up and even taking some initiative in building friendships.

Yesterday, I got up around 9:30am, shaved, and hopped into the shower. Once I took care of a few other odds and ends, I hopped into my car and made the drive down to Elmira to see my friend, Mike. I hadn't seen him in over a year, as I've been rather busy up here in the Rochester area most weekends. It was great to catch up with him, and he certainly needed a friendly face, seeing as his marriage just recently ended. I was both surprised and saddened to hear that. I was the best man at his wedding back in 2005, and they seemed like a great couple. But things can change over time.

Surprisingly, he and I seem to be going through a lot of the same inner processes right now. It turns out that he too is going through this realization that he needs to treat himself more and get out more. He's actually started going out to a movie every weekend, which is a radical change for him. I think it'll be good for him however. We got talking about both our growing senses that we needed to get out more, which made it nice that we could relate. We then watched a few episodes of Monty Python's Flying Circus before I had to get back on the road.

After that, I ran to Dansville to see my friend, Belinda. She was housesitting for her parents this weekend, and she invited me to come see her. Michele had also decided to come spend the afternoon and evening there, so we had a good time. When I arrived, they were watching a movie on Lifetime. It was a pretty interesting movie, and they filled me in on enough details that I could enjoy the ending. After that, we decided to run to the truckstop for dinner and had a great time talking there. The food was pretty good, as usual. We eventually paid and went to Belinda's parents' home. When we got there, I popped in the DVD I bought at the Vickie Shaw show last night. Belinda and Michele both absolutey loved it, and the three of us laughed ourselves silly. I found it particularly interesting because the DVD was from her tour back in 2000. It was interesting to see how her act had changed since then. For example, Sargent Pach was just "her girlfriend" back in 2000 and didn't play quite as big a part in her act back then. Though there were some elements that were quite familiar, such as the whole "sexual peak" segment. Overall, the DVD was a riot, but I think I liked last night's act better. It just seemed more developed and refined. And I suppose that seven years later, that only makes sense.

Belinda and Michele have already told me that they'd love to go if Ms. Shaw is ever in the area next time. So I promised them that if I got any announcements about future shows, I'll be sure to get four tickets that time. Who knows? Maybe by then I'll have reason to get a fifth ticket. Hope springs eternal, after all.

One of the great paradoxes involved in getting out more is that becoming more active gives me a great deal more things to blog about while at the same time severely decreasing the amount of time I find to actually do the blogging part. For example, I still have something from Friday night's comedy show that I want to blog about. And yet, here it is almost a week later, and I still haven't found or made the time to write it down. And I haven't mentioned the stroll my father and I took through Genesee Valley Park Monday evening, which is also worth noting. But for this post, I think I will stick to the subject of Friday night.

At one point during her show, Vickie Shaw asked any straight people in the audience to indicate their presence by applauding. Becky, who had agreed to accompany me that night, was one of three or four people who applauded. Of course, Vickie took this time to have a bit of fun assuring them that gay people actually like straight people, "We just don't want you teaching our children." She also made some comment about understanding that straight people just couldn't help that they were straight. The whole thing was funny simply because of the reversal of the more common situation involved. Needless to say, Becky was thoroughly embarassed by the whole thing.

As we were driving out of the hotel's parking garage, Becky commented on the incident, and asked if it bothered me to be in the reverse situation (often being the only gay person in a sea of heterosexuals) and made me as uncomfortable as that point in the show made her. I laughed and told her that no, I've been there enough that I've made my peace with such a situation.

At first, Becky didn't understand this. She pointed out that she had been in similar situations before, and yet she found herself slightly uncomfortable every time. I nodded, but pointed out that there was still a difference. Even if she had such an experience once a month -- or even once a week -- it still wouldn't quite compare to living that experience almost every minute of almost every day.

To the best of my knowledge, the most reproducible statistics say that gay and bisexual people make up between two and three percent of the population. Those are pretty low statistics, and it means that the probability of me being the only gay person in any given situation is pretty high. And even in cases where I'm not, it's likely that there's just one or two other kindred souls in the situation. That's life, and you learn to get used to it or you drive yourself batty.

Of course, it helps when you join groups specifically for gay and bisexual people. One of the things I like about attending game nights and ImageOut events is that it does put my in places full of kindred souls. There's a great deal of comfort in that.

But ultimately, the time comes -- at least for those of us who don't want to move to places like San Francisco -- when life requires us to return to the wider world. And learning to deal with that is a matter of survival and mental health. Indeed, it's best to learn to not only survive, but thrive in that situation. It's a matter of rising to the occasion and building up a strength that can carry you through -- and onward and upward.

It's been nine days since I've written here. As I mentioned in a previous post, that's the thing about getting more of a life. There's less and less time for actually sitting down and writing about all the things I'm doing and all of the things going on. Of course, I'm not exactly sure that I'd change that, either. After all, if my life wasn't so full, it would be downright boring. However, I'm continuing to look for the balance that will work for me.

Yesterday, I spent the majority of the day at Psychic's Thyme again. We ended up having a full house in the back room, as there were three readers on duty. Add to that the fact that Char was there, and Belinda and I were fulfilling our role as "official hangers on," and you have quite the gaggle. Of course, the high numbers and dynamic mix of personalities made for a lively day full of energetic conversation.

If any of my readers are considering opening a Pagan, "New Age," or metaphysical store, allow me to offer you a bit of advice. Whenever possible, make sure that those who are working there are positive people and tend to get into lively conversations. The energy such situations generate are incredible for business. One of the things that I have noticed while hanging out at the shop is that the better the time we have there, the more customers come waltzing in the front door. The number of times the laughs get interrupted because a customer needs help or someone needs their purchase rung up is just phenomenal. Of course, you have to make sure things don't get too out of hand. There was more than one time yesterday when Char had to remind us keep the noise down a bit.

After the store closed, Michele Belinda and I went to Bugaboo Creek for dinner and then headed back to their house. I provided the entertainment in the form of Night at the Museum and Happy Feet. Both were hillarious and we had a great time. Happy Feet got a bit too agenda-oriented for my tastes towards the end, but it was still a cute movie. And the idea of tap dancing penguins is just great for a laugh.

When I moved to the suburbs of Rochester almost two years ago, it was with some concern. I had lived in rural Pennsylvania all my life prior to the move. There were things that I knew I was going to miss. For example, I was going to miss the rare evening when I would look out the dining room window and see a black bear wandering through the yard, looking for food. I'd miss the twice daily trek of wild turkeys through the backyard during the winter as they came for the corn my father put out for them. One of the beautiful things about my life back home is that it was a nice area, surrounded with the beauty of nature.

But I gave that up, knowing I needed some changes in my life. I knew that I needed to get out where I could meet more like-minded people. I needed to find an area where I had more socialization options than going to church or going to the bar, neither of which appealed to me all that much. So I gave up my nice comfortable life in the middle of nowhere and moved to suburbia in an overgrown town along Lake Ontario. And almost two years later, I'm happy to admit that it was quite possibly one of the best decisions of my life.

I've come to like the fact that I live in an area where everything I want is within a five block radius of my home. I love the fact that if I decide I want to go out for a bit and do some reading or writing while surrounded by others, I have five or six different coffee houses to choose from. (And that's not including the Great Abomination, Starbucks.) I like the fact that there's a significant number of gay people and Pagans (and not to mention gay Pagans) that there are clubs and organizations set up for everyone to get together and socialize.

And yet, I've also discovered that while I may no longer have a black bear traipse through my yard, I can still find the beauty of nature here in this busy city. Rochester has no shortage of parks, and all of them are quite beautiful. My favorite one right now is Genesee Valley Park. Just yesterday, I was there and had two mallard ducks waddle past me, not six feet from where I stood. It was an incredible experience, and I even had to call a friend just to tell someone about it.

I've grown to truly love this area. In fact, I'm coming to think of it as home, which is not something I expected to happen when I originally moved here.

Yesterday came and went, and I'm proud to announce that at least half of the activities I had planned took place. A couple got dropped for various reasons, but I'm willing to consider my birthday celebration a stunning success. Blistered feet and all.

Granted, I could've done without the blisters, but it's my own fault. And I figure they'll heal eventually. They're from my successful trek along the canal path from Genesee Valley Park to Schoen Place. The walk took me right about two and a half hours along and was well worth the trip.

I got up at seven yesterday morning, showered, grabbed my water bottles out of the freezer, and left the house for the day. By the time I bought a backpack (necessary for the water and snacks I was taking on the trip), had a quick breakfast on the go, and make it to the park, it was just after nine. And I was off and walking.

The weather was absolutely perfect for this walk, as it was still in the sixties when I started and ony got up to the seventies or eighties by the time I was done at half past eleven. The view was absolutely gorgeous along the way. Sometimes I was walking through areas with dense vegetation, while the trail took me through broad fields in other places. The canal was visible 90% of the time, and I even managed to see a couple boats making their way through the water. I think the best sight, however, was near the end when I managed to spot a mother mallard with several tiny ducklings. I think any of her children would have fit easily in the palms of my hand. I might've even been able to close my fingers around their tiny bodies. I wish I would've taken my camera, and plan on taking it when I repeat the walk in July.

I've already decided to take this trek once every month while the weather stays warm enough for me. However, I do need to be sure to plan a bit better in the future. For example, I need to get a good pair of walking shoes or hiking boots. Of course, I didn't realize that my current walking shoes (the ones I wear every day) had some major holes in the insoles. That didn't help the blisters that formed on my feet at all. So I will be getting new shoes, and probably a pair just for this trip. (Michele is also recommending I get the gel inserts for this walk, and I'm inclined to see wisdom in that suggestion, too.)

The other mistake I made was not getting sunscreen. My face, forehead, and forearms are nice and red. In fact, my forehead is still itching a bit from the burn. Fortunately, the backpack protected the back of my neck. I figure I may even have to consider a hat next time, as I think parts of my scalp under my hair got a bit burned too.

But despite these lessons learned, I enjoyed the trek. It was great to be in the great outdoors. And besides the sunburn and sore feet (and the fact I've been napping half the day today), I don't feel any worse for the wear.

After that, I called Belinda to come get me. She didn't realize how far out Schoen Place is from Psychic's Thyme up on University Avenue, so she eventually was afraid she got lost and went back to the shop to get Michele. They eventually found me, though I note with some humor that my wait for my ride was over half as long as the seven mile hike I took. Of course, since Michele was working, I had her take me directly to the shop rather than having her take me to the car. Char immediately started harassing me for taking such a walk, pointing out I should've only gone half the distance and then walked back to my car. I pointed out to her that the whole point of the walk -- and what makes it fun -- is that you're walking from a certain point to another point. I'm not sure she appreciated the concept, but that's okay.

After the store closed, a group of us went to Red Robin. Michele and Belinda were nice enough to cover my dinner, even with the strawberry dacquiri I ordered. We had a good time and I spent my usual time ogling the various waiters that passed by. Unfortunately, our own server was a woman. That's actually pretty good, considering I was feeling impish enough that I might've teasingly hit on any guy unlucky enough to get our table. I was bad enough that Jim even called me a slut. I just looked at him and asked him if it had really taken him that long to figure it out. (Of course, any of my friends know better, when it comes right down to it.)

After that, we ran to Equal Grounds to listen to the live music there. This guy was a good musician, but he doesn't have quite the stage presence of the Monastery Dropouts. As such, we stayed in the other room where we could enjoy the music but still talk amongst ourselves without disturbing anyone else.

After an hour or so a the coffee shop, I decided I needed to get home. My feet were really starting to bother me and I was developing a headache. (Earlier today, I finally decided the headache was due to a lack of calcium. The quart of peanut butter cup ice cream seems to have solved the problem.) So we took Jim back out to Chili and Michele and Belinda dropped me off at my house so I could get to bed.

As a final note, I discovered at the end of my journey that they were having a regata in Pittsford yesterday. Had I realized that, I would've taken a chair with me and spent the day there after my walk. I love that sort of thing. And there were certain enough shirtless guys wandering around to keep me in eye candy.

While driving to Applebee's tonight, Aerosmith's song, I Don't Want to Miss a Thing, came on the radio. There are many songs that are deeply connected to memories of people and events in my life, and this is one such song. In fact, it's probably one of the most strongly connected songs I can think of.

Tonight, this song took me back to my relationship with my first boyfriend. At the time Chris (not his real name) and I were dating, this song was relatively new and seeing a lot of airtime across the nation. And every time I heard it, I became more deeply convinced that it was the perfect song to describe how I felt about our relationship. In fact, I think I pointed this out to Chris at the time.

Thinking about the relationship now, I can still understand why I felt this way. Chris and I seldom saw each other (we probably spent barely over a week total together throughout the six months we were "involved"), and it was perfectly reasonable for me to want to make as much of that precious rare time as I could. On more than one occasion, I ended up taking a sick or personal day off work just so I could have those eight more hours with him.

Of course, there were other reasons for feeling like this, too. The relationship wasn't healthy, and I knew it. And that made me want to cling to it even tighter, holding it together out of my own desparation. Aerosmith's song spoke to me powerfully and romantically about that desparation I was feeling. In many ways, I used that song to validate my sense of desperation.

As I listened to that song this evening and allowed these memories and thoughts to play through my mind, I began to ask myself many questions. The first question was whether there was any pain associated with this song or the memories that it evoked. There wasn't, and I have to admit that I'm a little surprised by that. Certainly, there's a certain morose feel to the whole thing as I think of mistakes made and lessons learned. And there's the memory of the pain that used to be there. There's the knowledge that years ago, hearing this song would've driven me to tears almost instantly. But not this evening. This evening, there was merely a sense of familiarity and a knowledge of what has passed. And while I find it somewhat strange, I also find it rather comforting.

Of course, I also asked myself how I felt about the message of the song today. If I were with someone, would this song still reflect how I would feel about a new relationship? And I think that for the most part, I can say that it doesn't. Because now, my love relationships aren't about desperation, they're about something else.

The underlying premise of the song is about a relationship that would consume my whole life, an that's not what I'm lookin fo at all. Certainly, I want a lover I can share my life with, and I'd prefer to spend the rest of my life with him. And there are certainly those moments I will want to get lost in, but only for a time. Because there are other things in my life that are equally important. And I do not wish to give up those things completely just so I can make sure I "don't miss a thing" with my lover. That just isn't healthy.

It's strange to think of the thought processes a song can initiate. Of course, I also find it interesting that this all started on the same day that I had a dream about Chris (sadly, I don't remember any details) while napping.

It's nine o'clock and I'm still home in my jammies. I'm waiting for the dryer to get done so I can grab a pair of shorts and head out the door to work. It's probably looking like I won't get in until ten at the earliest. I'm feeling rather dumb about it.

Last night, after getting home from the Cheap Monday Night Dinner Group, I gathered up a load of dirty clothes and threw them into the washer. After the washer was done, I even made a point of running downstairs and tossing the wet clothes into the dryer. (Of course, this was after reminding Precious that the dryer wasn't a kitty hiding spot and got her out of there.) Then I went back upstairs and went to bed. The truly observant (and those who just know me so well) might note that I didn't say anything about starting the dryer. That's because I didn't. So when I got up this morning and went downstairs to get the rest of the clothes I needed to go to work, I discovered everything was still wet. So I have about an hour to ninety minutes of down time while I wait for today's outfit to finish drying.

Last night, I ate with the Cheap Dinner Group again. To be honest, I think I've gone every week for about a month now. I think it'll be difficult to drop down to only attending every other Monday night once my father starts staying at my place on Monday nights regularly again. It's just nice to get out and chat with people that night.

At the end of dinner, just before we left, I got a massive cramp in my left thigh. I wasn't ready to go yet, so I had fun trying to manage to get the muscles to relax while still sitting there. At one point, I had to stand up briefly. I'm not sure what brought the whole incident on, but I managed to survive it without too much difficulty.

After the dinner, I went for my walk. I walked West on Park Avenue until I reached Alexandar, which I then took to East. From there, I headed back to Berkeley, crossed back to Park from there, and continued back along Park until I got back to my car. The whole trip took me just under 45 minutes, which made it a pretty good walk. It was actually quite pleasant, though I was somewhat disappointed that I didn't get hit on this time. Oh sure, last week was just a fluke and I shouldn't realistically expect it to happen all the time anyway. But it still would've been nice to get another little ego boost out of the whole thing.

During my walk, I came to my conclusion about iPods. One of the things I noticed is that the vast majority of the other people walking, running, or riding bike along my route had an iPod in them. So as a result, they were lost in their own world of music and endorphins. And while I can certainly see how that might make the process of exercising more enjoyable in some ways (and certainly helps with focus), it also has a negative impact on my other reason for walking.

At the risk of showing just how old fashioned I am, I tend to still see going for a walk through town as a social act. The whole idea brings up rustic images of Main Street in a small town right around sunset. People are all walking along, greeting each other as they pass.

"Hello there, Joe!"

"Hey Sam! How are the kids?"

"Pretty good. Eugene called the other night. Susan had the baby two nights ago. A little girl."

I'll be the first to admit that a small city like Rochester probably isn't going to support that kind of neighborly intimacy. Like I said, I'll be the first to admit I'm old fashioned (and something of a country bumpkin in some ways). However, you'd think there'd still be room for simple pleasantries.

Wearing an iPod enables a person to isolate themselves from that kind of interaction. "Being off in their own world" becomes pretty literal after a while. And I find that a shame.

Of course, it wouldn't be so bad if this isolation was just limited to wearing an iPod while exercising. We seem to be pretty insular on many levels and in many areas of our lives. So to me, the problem wasn't so much that everyone wears iPods while out getting their exercise as that this fact is representative of what seems to me to be a greater problem.

This post isn't about the festival, per se. However, it is loosely related in the fact that the motives behind my actions were spawned at the festival. Saturday night, the four of us who went together held an open circle to bring about more abundance and joy in the participants' lives. As part of the rite, we each agreed to do one good deed or act of kindness for someone else every day.

Monday morning, as I drove back to work for my first day back from vacation, I got thinking about that commitment. I was wondering what good deed I could do for the day. As I thought about it, I finally decided to take it before my gods. "Okay, guys, I'm going to need help with this one. Help me to be open to any opportunities I might have to help someone else." Once at work, I set about to figuring out where my projects were and determining my immediate tasks to work on. My mind quickly became lost in the distractions of the work day.

At around five thirty that night, I decided it was time to head home. So I hopped in my car and pulled out of the driveway. Because of the time, I decided to take Route 31 back towards Pittsford rather than deal with rush hour traffic on I-490. That meant turning left onto Woodcliffe and taking it over to Route 250. When I was almost to Route 250, I noticed a car pulled as far off the road in front of me as possible, but still blocking my lane of traffic. I also quickly noticed the woman holding onto a very young girl with an upset stomach. The poor thing was vomitting as the woman held onto her.

I pulled up beside them and rolled the window down to ask if everything was alright. The girl's mother assured me they were fine. However, the other women made a comment (presumably pointing out the little girl really needed a change of clothes), and the first woman explained they weren't from around here. She asked if I knew of a Target or Wal-Mart in the vicinity. I gave her careful directions to the Target that was less than a mile away, and wished them the best.

As I pulled away to continue on my way, I instantly remembered my prayer earlier in the day. The gods had been good to me in honoring my request. Despite the fact that I had forgotten asking them to help me be aware of opportunities to help someone else, they had not. They gave me an opportunity to help someone else, even if it was something as minor as giving much needed directions to a store. After all, it was pretty important to the little girl and her mother.

Of course, what really has me thinking about this is the fact that I don't usually take that route home. Usually, I would've turned right onto Woodcliffe Drive and taken it back down to Route 96. Had I done that on Monday, I never would've run across this family in need. So I find it particularly interesting that something as minor as a change in my routine led to the opportunity I was looking for.

The gods are good.

Apparently, the gods decided I needed a bit of a confidence boost this evening. Two different guys decided to check me out while Michele, Belinda, and I were at the restaurant tonight. Unfortunately, neither of them took it to the next level by asking me for my phone number, but it was a nice experience, nonetheless.

In reality, I didn't notice the one guy checking me out, but both of my companions assured me he did. It was while we were standing at the front of the restaurant waiting for our turn to be seated. Two young men in their mid-twenties (or so I'd estimate) stood on the other side of the aisle leading from the front door of the restaurant to the hostess's station. Apparently, the one looked over my way and took several seconds to check me over. What a shame nothing came of it, though.

The other instance I'm not 100% sure of, but the guy who seated us when it was our turn seemed incredibly friendly. Once we took our seats, he turned to me and complimented me on my creative tee shirt (it's the "2QT2BSTR8" one). Now many people have commented on this shirt, but this is the first time someone has struck up almost a full minute long conversation over the topic. Granted, I still might have shrugged it off as nothing if Michele didn't comment on the incident herself. (Indeed, she went so far as to say she wanted to tell him to ask me out already by the time our brief conversation ended.) And he did exchange smiles a couple more times throughout the meal, so it was interested. But alas, he never said anything. And to be frank, I've embarrassed myself one too many times to take a chance on mistaking yet another person in the service sector as being more friendly than their job requires or even suggests.

All the same, it was nice to be noticed. I hope it keeps happening on a regular basis. Though I also hope one of these guys gets up the courage to do more than just check me out.

Tonight or tomorrow morning, I'm headed back to my parents' house for the Thanksgiving holiday. Saturday, my father and I will drive down to York to have dinner with much of the extended family. It's a four hour or so drive, so I hope to do some reading on the trip. Of course, I suspect other members of the extended family will be joining us, so I need to be judicious in my selection of reading material.

For those who may not know, I am the religious oddity in my family. While I am a practicing witch, just about everyone else (at least on my father's side of the family) is a conservative, evangelical, and even fundamentalist Christian. This means that sitting with them while reading such selections as Witch in the Bedroom or Anything But Straight would probably lead to all sorts of unpleasantness. And while part of me feels like I'm reaching a point where I need to assert myself around my family regardless of how they may react, the holiday season just doesn't seem like a good time to do so. (Too bad it's about the only time I seem to see most of them.) So I've started thinking through some choices that may be safe.

The first obvious choice is my new copy of Beowulf. (Special thanks to Pisco for bringing this particular translation to my attention.) I figure that no one can complain about me reading classic literature. And hey, they don't need to know that I'm reading it for spiritual reasons in addition to literary ones.

As another option (because I always have to have multiple books available to read) is American Gods. Because even if it's fiction that my family may not care for, fiction is still a relatively safe choice. As long as it's not erotic fiction, of course.

In many ways I'm looking forward to the trip, too. Melissa's wedding reminded me that I don't spend nearly enough time with my extended family, and I need to change that to some extent. Of course, that means putting aside some of my own biases, as I've unfortunately come to expect time with my family to be unpleasant. (In reality, the unpleasantness only comes from one or two people, who often aren't even there.) But in the end, I'm hoping it'll be worth it.

In the meantime, I'll be looking over my shelves for a third and possibly fourth choice in "safe" reading material.