Brief review of the week

This has been a bit of a hectic week. Between getting the rust spot on my car fixed, taking care of work, and doing my stuff for the endocrinologist, I’ve been a bit busy. And on top of that all, I’ve been trying to get more rest. I feel like I’m still on the verge of being sick again. I think I’ll be fine, but only if I can keep myself rested up and relatively well. That’s why I haven’t been online much this week. I mean, heck, I’ve even been late reading Catharsis on a few days. Reading the latest Catharsis strip is usually one of the first things I do when I have access to the Internet. But things have been so crazy, it hasn’t been happening.

I’m curious to see what’s going on with my blood sugar. I’ve come pretty darn close to bottoming out on two nights this week. On Wednesday night when I checked it at 7:30 (about two hours after supper), it was down to 67. I immediately had a yogurt before Mom and I ran the van to the body shop. And then Thursday night, I was clear down to 59. I stood in the kitchen eating a snack and I felt like I was wolfing it down. I also felt myself slightly shaking at the time, too.

The good news is that it was quite a bit better last night. When I got home and took my “after supper” reading, I was at a 96. I’m not entirely sure what made the difference. The only thing I can figure is that I actually ate supper half an hour later than normal. I’m not sure why that’d make a difference, but it’s the only thing I can figure. Everything else, I did practically the same on each of those days.

I have about another hour before I can test my blood sugar tonight. My parents and I went out for supper and that made for a late meal. I’m a bit concerned about what it might be. After all, I had a lot to eat tonight — the restaurant we went to gives ridiculously large portions — so it might be a bit high. But then again, it can be up to 140 before Dr. Lee’s going to get too concerned. And if it’s only one test out of the entire week, that’s probably not too terrible anyway. I just can’t make a habit of it. (Taking the test every day and having to send it in to Dr. Lee’s office sure helps keep me honest about just how habitual something like that is becoming, too.)

My car is fixed. The body shop managed to get it in on Thursday and finish the job up yesterday. So I left work about two hours early so that I could get there in time to pick up my car before they closed. They did a fantastic job. If I ever need body work done again (may the gods forbid!), I’d definitely consider going back there. Once I had the car, I also decided to run to the Ford dealership. I need a second key made. And unfortunately, I have one of those cars that uses the keys with the anti-theft microchips in them. So that’s something you have to get directly from the dealer. On top of that, because I only have the one key, the dealership has to program the keys by hooking the car up to the diagnostic computer. To do the “easy programming” method, you need two previously-programmed keys. I’m a bit annoyed about that because it means I have to pay a bit extra. But ce’st la vie, I suppose. I’m getting it done on Monday morning because they said they couldn’t do it yesterday. They said it would take a half hour to do the job and everyone was getting ready to go home for the evening. I just stood there shaking my head. It was only 4:30. Most of us have to work until 5:00. But nope, these guys were “getting ready to go home” and therefore couldn’t start a half hour job. People talk about “banker’s hours,” geez, I want to start working “mechanic’s hours.” Oh well, now I’m just being silly. I’m not really upset, but it gives me something to mutter about. Sometimes, it’s just fun to do that.

Quiet

It’s a quiet night tonight. I’m sitting here listening to some music, enjoying the relative calmness of the house. I don’t think that I appreciate that often enough. You would think that after the whirlwind of having my nieces and nephews here, I wouldn’t take the quiet quite so much for granted. But there you go. Even I lose sight from time to time. (Does that sound as egotistical as I think it does? Oh well, a little ego in my diary is probably a good thing.)

As soon as I got home tonight, I decided to haul both loads of my laundry up the stairs. Then I dutifully folded them and put them away. Now I just have to get the last few dirty clothes into the hamper. I’ll do that on my way to bed, since it’s back upstairs and I’m feeling too lazy to get up and walk up there. It’s funny though how a small, menial task like folding and putting away laundry can have an incredible effect on a person’s state of mind. I found it very relaxing. I think it’s because it gave me something to focus on, and for that few minutes that I was working on it, I was able to let all the crazy thoughts that whiz through my head while at work dissipate. And I was left with a moment of mental quiet — relatively speaking, at least.

You know, as I think about that, I find myself wondering. Maybe the reason I don’t appreciate the calm and quiet around here is because of the usual lack of quiet in my own mind. I usually let my mind jump from topic to topic to topic, back to the original topic so quickly. So I find myself in a constant state of mental chaos of sorts. So because of this, I expect my external surroundings to match this. I fill it with the noise of the television, the “noise” of several different conversations and message board discussions, and any other “noise” I can find. If I can’t learn to quiet my own mind, how can I appreciate the quiet around me.

So, maybe it’s time for some practical work here. Less noise in my life. Less noise in my mind. But the question is, how will I go about doing this. Perhaps I should start by finding that “menial task” to do each night, since it seems to help. I’m not sure what I’ll come up with, but I think it’s worth a try.

My evening and witchy thoughts

I went for my walk this evening. I didn’t get out of bed or get laundry started early enough to commence my walk in the afternoon as has become my custom. And without clean laundry, my only other option was to walk in the nude. The chances of that happen are one in a google. Maybe even one in a google plex. Besides, considering the temperature out right now, that’s jut not an option.

Overall, I give my exercise effort a B this week. I’m half tempted to go with a B-, but I think that’s being too hard on myself. I actually managed to walk four days this past week. It’s only one less than the five that I’m aiming for. I missed yesterday’s walk because, quite frankly, I wasn’t feeling well enough to go for a walk. I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t get half way through it and suddenly find myself in dire need of a bathroom — which would be nowhere to be found.

After my walk tonight, I went out and bought some music. I bought a sampler of trance music. I’m checking it out now. It’s actually pretty good. I’d love to get more. Now I just have to find out who I might like. That’s always the fun part. I know absolutely nothing about music. And to be honest, I don’t have a huge desire to learn. I’m very superficial about my music. All I want to know is “this song sounds nice.”

I also ran to Friendly’s for supper. I had a lovely bacon cheeseburger. One of my favorite things. I was in a mood for some good beef. I probably had way too much, but it was worth it.

While there, I also read some. Friendly’s is my favorite reading spot, after all. Much less distractions than at home. I continued on in my reading of Huson’s book, “Mastering Witchcraft.” I’m still having mixed feelings about it. I still think the guy’s being more than a little pretentious. What gets me is that he always adds “of art” to the end of most things he’s talking about. “Using your brush of art, write these runes on it with your paint of art.” It just strikes me as being ridiculously wordy. I just have trouble imagining any of the witches I know and respect — all who seem to be rather down to earth and plain spoken — using such phrases.

Of course, the underlying reason for using such phrases also leaves me wondering. He’s one of these people who seem to think that every little thing that you use in magic should only be used in magic. It should never be used for anything else. Now, in many cases, I agree with him. I think that the major altar tools — such as the knife, the cup, and the censer — should usually only be used for those purposes for which they were consecrated. There are good and sound reasons for this. But I’m not sure that really applies to such things as paint and other supplies. These are not the “great tools.” These are “things a witch finds useful.” And it seems that the no-nonsense style of witch magic would call for just pulling whatever was needed from an already existing of “mundane items.” You need a piece of red thread? You go to your sewing kit, get the spool of red yarn that you bought to repair that dress, and you cut off what you need for your magic. You need to paint symbols on a tool or talisman? You grab the paint cans from when you painted the bedroom and you use a small quantity of it. Now sure, maybe the paint should be consecrated. So you pour out the small amount you will use into a smaller container and you consecrate it. You don’t consecrate the entire bucket, thereby risking wasting it if you don’t use it before it dries up. And I see no need to go buy something special for magic when you have a perfectly usable quantity of the same thing already.

I don’t know, I just see the idea of keeping two separate sets of supplies for “mundane” and “magical” uses as entirely impractical. And that goes against the nature of witchcraft, in my opinion.

But stereotypes are fun!

I was introduced to something new today. I was a bit surprised. Not a lot, but a little. It seems that another school is out to abandon all Halloween activities. But unlike most schools — who seem to make this decision to please uberconservative “Christians” with propagandistic views of the holiday, this one is actually cancelling due to what can only be described as “political correctness gone terribly wrong.” You see, this school is concerned about “offending real Wiccans with the stereotypes about witches.”

Now, I should point out that this isn’t the only reason mentioned. It’s just the reason that the article is focusing on. The school board actually cited three different reasons according to the article. And personally, I don’t think any of them hold water. (And I find myself wondering what the primary reason is or if this is just a matter of trying to find any reason that will stick for a decision already made.)

Now, some people who have seen this article have commented that it doesn’t mention any actually complaints from “real Wiccans.” (The closest thing to it is merely a soundbite from an unrelated news program made by a Wiccan High Priestess while explaining her religion.) And it’s a valid point. But sadly, I have no doubt that some “Wiccan” somewhere really is offended. (Heck, in my brash and younger days, I complained about such things myself. Fortunately, I’ve grown since then.) After all, there are some rather hypersensitive Wiccans (and Pagans of other persuasions, for that matter) out there. And it wouldn’t take much to see some of them get their panties knotted.

Me, I find the whole thing silly. Then again, I find the stereotypes silly. But that’s what makes them fun. I like playing with them. If I was in the middle of my town rather than off on some hill where no one sees me, I’d meet every trick-or-treater at the door in a painty hat and a fake wart on my nose. (Heck, I’d even cross-dress to be the traditional hag.) I think it’s fun to do such things. And besides, I think that playing with the stereotypes reminds us not to take ourselves too seriously.

Wanting to create, but no muse

I keep telling myself that I need to work on new diary descriptions and profiles for all of my online diaries. (Before anyone asks, I have seven scattered throughout cyberspace.) At most of those diaries, I’ve had the same user profile and diary description that I threw in there when I first created the diary. And I just feel it’s time for a change.

The thing is, I don’t know what to change them all too. I feel completely uncreative. I always struggle with what to say in my descriptions and profiles. To be honest, that’s partly because I consider myself a terribly boring person. I look at myself and I think “what can I say that anyone would find remotely interesting.” So it leaves me stymied.

I know. I should just do it anyway. I should just push through and come up with something. Because if I really put my mind to it, I’m sure I’d come up with something. But that’s a big mental block to break.

On the positive side, at least each of the seven diary descriptions and/or profiles I’ve done are unique to that particular diary. So I have that much to say for myself.

Sleepy Musings

I’m sitting here listening to Enya’s album, “The Memory of Trees.” I love this album, though I may have to switch to something more upbeat once I get through it. I’m feeling very sleepy for some reason, and I’m not quite ready to head off to bed. So soft music of an almost lullaby-like quality is a bad thing. I’ll have to replace it with something like one of Delirium’s albums. That usually keeps me awake.

Last night, I slept with Darien. Darien is the small, brown teddy bear that Mike gave me on the first Christmas we celebrated together. He’s such a cute bear, but a bit on the small side to cuddle with properly. He slips out of my oversized arms way too easily. It’s funny on those nights when I sleep with a stuffed animal. I suddenly feel like a little kid again. There’s a sense of vulnerability and youth. It’s a very strange thing to feel, really. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it.

Speaking of Mike, he’s absolutely exhausted from his trip to New Jersey. Not that this surprises me, mind you. He was up for a full 23 hours on Saturday. He and his family left their home at five in the morning, and he didn’t get back into bed until four on Sunday morning. Then the poor guy only slept until about 11:30 Sunday morning. Personally, I think the guy is way too committed to his amusement parks. He should think about getting a bit more commitment to a regular sleep schedule, if you ask me. But I suppose that if it makes him happy to do such things, that’s all that really matters.

Happy to be wrong

Two days ago, I said that I probably just took my last walk outdoors for 2004. It turns out that I was wrong. It was such a beautiful and sunny day out, so I decided to take another walk outdoors. It was a bit cool despite the sun (Weather.com says it’s 64*F (or right about 18*C for you metric-heads) in my area), the wind was low and my light jacket was enough to keep me warm. This was especially true after my blood got pumping and the exercise kept my body heat up. But it felt good.

I’m also glad to see that I’m slowly starting to get used to walking again. There for a while, my legs started really bothering me. I was starting to get concerned that something was wrong with them and that I was going to have to run back to the doctor. But it looks like it’s just a lack of regular exercise, and now they’re starting to protest less and less. Of course, I’m still not going quite as fast as I was when I was really focused (I used to go another 200 yards or so in the same amount of time I’m walking right now). I’m a bit bummed about that, but I expect I’ll gain that back as I get working at it again. After all, that was also when I was twenty pounds lighter. I’m still upset I put on that extra weight since July, but I’m determined to take it right back off — and at least another 100 pounds right after it. Though I think I’m going to stretch it out over a year or two if I can. I don’t want to start doing the weight yo-yo game, after all.

Today is a fairly dull day at work. I’m waiting to have a meeting with Nate so that we can go over the new development tools for his project. I’ve configured and used them, and now I have to teach him to do likewise. I suppose I could also work on my specification for Steve’s project, but I’m not in the mood for that. I really hate writing documentation. It’s the one part of my job that I wish I could get out of.

The biggest problem with having a slow day like this — or a day where the only thing I need to do is something I’d like to do — is that it’s the kind of days where my willpower is weak. I find myself tempted to go to the vending machine and get a tasty — but fattening — snack for myself. It’s really quite funny. On days when I’m busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, I don’t even consider it. I just go on. Heck, I’ve even skipped supper until much later in the evening if I was sufficiently busy. I’ve heard that some people will eat — particularly junk food — as much out of boredom as out of hunger. I really think I’m one such person. It’s quite a frustrating trait. I wonder if there’s an effective way to break the association between boredom and eating.

Health Stuff and Heart Stuff

I think I took my last outdoor walk of 2004. I had my light, nylon jacket on, and until I got heated up and sweating, I was pretty darn cold. I suppose I could keep the outdoor walks going if I switched over to my winter coat, but I’m not sure I want to do that, yet. Besides, that’s only a temporary fix, and the way that the weather is feeling, it wouldn’t last long. Soon, it will be my face, hands, and feet getting too cool. And I can’t forget that my jeans are still pretty loose. No, I think it’ll be better to switch to indoor walking. I’ll just have to start going to the Pyramid Mall during lunch so that I can walk there. Though that mall is almost too small for a real walk.

My other option is to wait until after work and go to the Arnot mall so I can walk there. It’s a larger mall and better for walking. But I think I prefer to walk during the middle of the day. I found it’s helping me some with my appetite problems in the middle of the afternoon. If I get a good walk in just before I eat lunch, I find lunch much more satisfying and it seems to keep me satisfied longer. I don’t exactly get that, since walking should increase my metabolism, causing my body to burn through the calories of lunch even quicker. There must be a piece to the equation I’m missing. Probably several, if I think about it.

Well, I guess it’s time to write about the time of year. I’ve been putting it off because I don’t want to, but it’s been on my mind too much to avoid it any longer. I knew I’d have to get it out there sometime, so I might as well get it over with. This week marks the six year anniversary since the nuclear explosion between Z, S, and myself. It’s hard to narrow it down past “this week,” since the whole thing strung out over a period of seven to ten days. I mark the time period from when S sent me the “I’m mad at you and I don’t want to talk to you for at least six months” email on 9 October and she replied to my email telling her off on 17 October with a statement that she didn’t care what “my side of the story” was and made death threats. In between, both she and Z told me that they never wanted to talk to me again and lots of other nasty things. I grant you, some of them were deserved. I was no innocent, and I don’t want to give the impression that I was, or the impression that I think I am.

I don’t know, but part of me wonders if this is why I’ve been a bit morose and on edge lately. I’ve been trying to deny that, as I really don’t want to admit that this might still bother me. But then again, the fact that it’s on my mind suggests that it might. But then I find myself wondering. Am I morose and on edge because the time of year has reminded me of these past events? Or has my mood simply caused my mind to dredge all this back up. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I suppose all that matters is that it’s on my mind and I have to write it out.

Damn, I really didn’t want to write about this. I’m not entirely sure I want to think about it. At least not in this emotional context. It’s been six years. I’ve made new friends. I’ve met a wonderful man and I’m in a relationship I enjoy. I’d rather just let all the past hurts slip gently away. But I guess they have to do that in their own time, don’t they?

The funny thing is, the whole thing with Z himself doesn’t really bother me anymore. It seems to me that I made peace with him, and that’s all water under the bridge. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t feel a tinge of something — sadness maybe? — over how things went with him. But there’s a certain peace there. If not perfect, it’s been resolved. But I don’t have that feeling with S. Isn’t it strange that the person I was theoretically closer to — the one I had a romantic relationship and the first person I ever had sex with — causes less of an emotional reaction than the one I was just friends with?

I suppose part of that is because of the betrayal involved. It’s because I thought she and I were good friends. I let myself be vulnerable to her — possibly in ways I wouldn’t let myself be vulnerable to Z. And she betrayed that. Not only did she betray that, but she practically declared me evil incarnate, and I think that’s what really hurt. I mean sure, I was in the wrong in some ways. But evil incarnate was pushing it a bit far.

I think it also is because I took her crap onto myself. For a while, I believed her accusations. I let myself be crushed by her hurtful words. In effect, the hurt and anger towards her is also partly the hurt and anger towards myself for accepting that kind of wounding. Maybe even for making myself vulnerable in the first place.

But I’m not angry at her anymore. At least not as near as I can tell. Anger takes up too much energy. It has to be constantly kindled, and I’ve quit wasting that energy. Heck, I can’t even say that I hold her in contempt any more. Contrary to what I’ve often thought, I’m finding that just takes too much effort and energy, too.

Do you know what I do feel for her? Pity. And maybe a little sympathy. But mostly pity, I think. She reacted the way she did not just because she didn’t know everything and made assumptions, but because she let her own emotional demons rule her reaction. And unless things have changed for her in the last six years, she’s still living with that, and may have to live with that for the rest of her life. She’s built a cage for herself out of the past and her own bitterness and anger, and she doesn’t even see that she’s trapped in it. I hope I’m wrong. I hope she’s moved on from that point in her life, breaking the bonds she helped strengthen. But I don’t know if that’s happened. All I know is what I saw. And it’s that S of the past that I pity.

I hope I’m not doing the same thing. I want to be free of this past. And I think I’ve done my best to set myself right. I think I’ve broken many thigns that have held me from these betrayals and I hope I have the wisdom to recognize those that remain and the strength to break them as well when I do recognize them.

But I still find myself wondering why this is still coming to my mind.

Yeah, tell off your killer!

Today was a pretty good day. I had a bit of trouble getting to sleep last night (I was awake until after 2:30), so I ended up staying in bed until 9:30. I’m still a bit tired, but I’m functional for now. I got up this morning and got online. I then took my shower and got ready to go to P’s house. She and I watched a couple of movies and ran out for a short shopping trip. Overall, it was a pretty good day.

One of the movies we watched was “The Convent.” I think that movie defies any real classification or description. It was a horror movie of sorts. But it was a bit…well, I guess camp would work. There were a lot of stereotypes involved. You know, you had the sex fiend boy that bragged that he could sleep with any girl they saw (“just give me five minutes”), the frat-boy jock and his ditzy cheerleader girlfriend, and of course, the woman that everyone thinks is crazy who has to be called on to save the day at the end. So there was a lot about the movie that was cheesy and predictable. But on the same hand, it wasn’t a total nacho-fest, either. It had a certain serious quality to it. The only real problem I had with the movie is that the first person to die was the best character in the whole show. I’m sorry, but anyone who can sit up in the middle of the ritual where she’s about to be sacrificed and accuse the leader of being a pretentious goth wannabe is aces in my book.

I got to meet P’s new dog, too. He’s big and lovable, but boy is he going to be a handful. He’s young and excitable. If my sister’s dog, Cody, was still around, the two of them would make great playmates, I think. They’re both nuts. Speaking of which, Precious is going crazy looking for a playmate. Bandit isn’t interested in playing (his skin is still bothering him) and with the kinds and my sister’s dogs gone, my poor little cat has no one who’s willing to play with her at the drop of a hat. So she’s been raring around and trying to get everyone’s attention. It’s actually quite cute.

About Stace

I’m in the mood for some uplifting thoughts and writing something absolutely glowing. As such, I think I will write about my dear friend, Stace. Now a lot of people probably know Stace. Around Bloop, she’s known as The Sentinel. And she writes an excellent diary which I highly recommend to everyone.

In reality, the real reason I’m writing about Stace is two-fold. For starters, I’ve thought about her in a couple different conversations I’ve had this morning. And she just seems to be on my thoughts. And since I really need to write a diary entry anyway and it’s always easy to write about whatever is on your mind, it seemed like a logical conclusion to make. (Besides, I’m also having fun imagining her blushing as she reads this.)

So, who is this person? If I sat and thought about it, and poured all my writing skill into my efforts, I still don’t think I could ever make a description of her that would be fitting. She’s just too nice and wonderful for that. She’s caring, intelligent, thoughtful, compassionate, and strong. I don’t believe in role models, but if I did, I think Stace would be high on my list of excellent role models.

Stace is a Christian. Stace is a devout Christian, in fact, and it doesn’t take long talking to her to realize that her faith influences everything in her life. And yet, she has a nature — a way of carrying herself, if you will — that makes that seem perfectly natural and desirable. It seems to me that for her, it’s not a matter of doing or making things fit. It’s a matter of her being who she is. And this makes it an attractive trait in her.

Stace has very strong convictions about things. She knows what she believes and why she believes it, and she makes no apology about it. And yet, she can interact with people who don’t share — or even oppose — her convictions and demonstrate a level of warmth, dignity, and respect that is astonishing. I often get the impression that she can say to someone, “I disagree with you,” and yet not feel the need to draw that disagreement into a long, distasteful argument thinly disguised as “debate” or “discussion.” To be honest, I think that’s one of the things that truly amazes me about her. Perhaps in part because it’s something that I envy about her. It’s something in my life that I — who still struggles with the urge to “have the last word” more often than I’d like to admit — still need to work on. And I think that seeing how she’s able to rise above that kind of smallness on a consistent basis inspires me. (Well, when it doesn’t shame me, at least.)

But the other thing about Stace’s convictions is that while she’s uncompromising, she’s also not above re-evaluating. That probably doesn’t make much sense, so let me explain. Being a Christian, she believes that the Bible is the inerrant word of God. She believes that it is the primary source — if not the sole source — of religious Truth and a precious gift from the Almighty. Now, a lot of Christians will tell you that. But I’ll be honest, I don’t believe all Christians who tell me that necessarily believe it. I’ve been known to get into arguments (you see, there I go not emulating Stace) with a small number of Christians who will use the Bible to “prove their point.” Often times, when they do this, they will use one or two verses, completely ignoring the overall message. (And worse, they sometimes take those verses out of context.) On very rare occasion, I’ve even seen some go so far as to rationalize their interpretation even after you’ve pointed this out. (I recently got into this argument over one Christian’s interpretation of John 1, and am currently trying to remind myself to swallow my pride and extricate myself from what has become a pointless argument.) But I have never seen Stace do this. Sure, I’ve seen Stace select Bible passages (though as I think of it, it seems to me that she chooses entire passages over single verses more often than not) to demonstrate what she believes, but she’s also open to re-examining her interpretations. And she also often talks about searching through the Bible to study on a particular topic. She does this to understand what she believes — or even to re-examine why she believes something and how Biblical it is. I have a lot of respect for someone who can openly show that the Bible is as much about her personal search for Truth as demonstrating the Truth to others. Overall, it just seems to demonstrate a tangible belief that the Bible really is a Holy and sacred thing.

The other thing that makes Stace wonderful is that she listens. Back in college, I had to learn about this concept that was called “active listening.” I don’t know if Stace had to learn that at some point in her life too, but just in conversations with her, I can tell that she understands the basic concepts involved and practices them regularly. She takes an active interest in people, and tries to understand them better. Even when their views don’t match up with her own. And most importantly, she doesn’t just inquire about these things for the sake of “getting more ammo.” There are some people whose questions I’m wary of answering. In my experience, some people ask questions and then listen to the answers just enough to formulate their next argument. But Stace doesn’t do that. She does it because she’s sincerely interested and wants to understand. It’s easier to to talk freely with someone who doesn’t always seem to have an “ulterior motive” hiding just below the surface.

But I think what truly amazes me is that she understands love and she’s a loving person. When Stace says she loves someone, they know it. Too often, people talk about loving others and say they do, but it’s in an abstract sense. The problem is, love is not an abstraction, it’s a real, solid thing. And it’s expressed through actions. Little actions, big actions, but always actions, and definite actions. And Stace demonstrates it through her listening, sincere curiosity, and warm heart. Some days, I don’t know how she balances standing for her convictions with her loving heart as well as she does. But I’m glad she days.

Like I said, I could never truly describe Stace in a way that does her justice. But I hope that I’ve at least expressed my adoration for her and described a small portion of her delightful and honorable nature fairly.

The thoughts of a gay witch living in upstate New York.