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I find the concept of time somewhat amazing. It’s really nothing more than a human perception. We feel comforted by the tick-tock of the clock, or the passing movement of the minute and hour hand. “What lies ahead?” “Were almost there!” “Is it time to eat yet?”

When you think about it, time really serves no purpose. It’s simply a marker to tell us where we are in life. “I’m getting old.” “It’s time to sleep.” “It’s time to brush my teeth.” “I’ll be 37 on my next birthday.”

I’ve always been obsessed with time. I have a collection of school clocks, each clock perfectly synchronized to the master clock, which is in turn synchronized to the atomic clock. Those clocks that aren’t in the collection are still calibrated to change with the school clock collection. There is no flashing “12:00” on my VCR.

When I worked for ARC (Association for Retarded Citizens) back in the late 80s and early 90s, I worked a shift that started on Tuesday at 2:00 p.m. and ended on Thursday at 3:00 p.m. Time was very important to me. In the back of my mind, I knew precisely how much time I had left before I was home again. Before I was free.

Last night was a particularly rough night of “on call” for my current job. Now that I think about it, was I making it harder on myself because at that time, I should have been asleep? Did my body suffer because I didn’t sleep at the proper time? Granted, my ass is dragging a little bit today because I slept for a total of four hours in ragged increments. Would I feel so lethargic today if I didn’t obsess about time? Is my sleepiness because of my brain telling me I didn’t sleep the right amount of time or because my body didn’t get a chance to build up the proper amount of energy and do it’s housecleaning?

Honestly, I think it’s a combination of both.

I’m going to try to live in the “now”. No worrying about what lies ahead or what’s left behind. I haven’t got the time for it.

I take a certain wicked delight when I see these fabricated and egomaniacal pop stars crash and burn in public. The latest spectacle belongs to Ashlee Simpson. I guess she was going to prove that she can sing after all, after being snagged on Saturday Night Live as a lip syncher with a track problem. So she appeared on the Orange Bowl half time show and sang live, without backing vocals. I watched as much of the performance as I could (damn you broadband!). This girl has no business singing in the shower, let alone in public. She was not in time with the band, she was singing in various non-existent keys and she was gyrating like someone had set her pants on fire. The crowd was not too pleased – they booed her at the end of her set.

If you like to see a fabricated “entertainer” crash and burn, here’s a clip in Windows Media Player format. I know, I know, how non-Mac of me, but it’s the only clip I could find and easily steal off a website.

For more Ashlee Simpson fun, follow the link mentioned at the beginning of the clip.

And yes, I know it’s not fun to pick on other people when they’re down, no I couldn’t do any better (actually I could) and yes I’m smart enough to know my limits.

I’ve mentioned one or one hundred times over the past couple of weeks that I am trying to eat healthy again and get back on the whole exercise, fit and trim bandwagon. I don’t really know why I’m obsessing over this, and I am obsessing, but I think it’s because I know there’s a pair of jeans in the back of my closet that is one size smaller than what I am currently wearing. Never mind that there are also jeans in my closet that are two sizes bigger than what I am currently wearing, and forget the fact that I could probably get those smaller jeans on if I lept across the room with Earl holding my jeans open so I could squeeze into them.

So I’ve gone from the cheeseburger and fries for appetizer, prime rib for supper set to the typical salad saga. I’m carefully measuring out one cup of Cheerios for breakfast, lest one extra Cheerio invade my cereal bowl and throw off my calorie count. I’m faithfully eating salad, salad and more salad with fat free dressing for lunch and supper. I’m balancing my protein intake with a “smart-pak” of crackers with peanut butter. For supper it’s, what else, more salad and a sandwich with some baked, low fat, low taste tortilla chips on the side.

God damn it I want a Big Mac. Or a big juicy Double Whopper with cheese and bacon.

I think my brain is my biggest enemy. Because I’m not really eating what I want to eat, but rather what I think I should eat, I’m constantly thinking about how good an afternoon at Chick-Fil-A would be. I want to park one of those mall tables with attached chairs right in front of the restaurant counter, leaving room for someone to join me in the other molded chair and I want the counter person to just bring on the food. It doesn’t even have to be a Chick-Fil-A. I’d settle for any diner, anywhere in the world right now. Then I start thinking about how selfish I am. Memories of “there’s starving children in Africa” from my childhood rear they’re ugly head when I used to yell “But Ma, I’m starving!!” I think about all those hundreds of thousands of people suffering in the aftermath of the tsunamis. They’d probably like to graze through an A&W with me too.

This constant counting of calories in my brain has got to stop. “If I eat this tic tac, I’ve added 10 calories, that means an extra 35 seconds on the exercise bike tonight.” I think my caloric intake has fallen from around 2500 calories a day to just shy of 1000. I think my body is mad at me. It’s yelling various things, like “You stopped feeding me.” “Why are you doing this?” “You’re exercising twice as much with half the amount of food.” “You’re an ass.”

I think tonight I’m going to splurge and cook something rather than just slap some fake-turkey and fake-cheese with a smattering of mustard between two airy pieces of bread.

If you want to IM me afterwards, I’ll be on the exercise bike.

Today I had to go to a dermotologist. At my last doctor’s appointment, he noticed a mole on my back and said that I should have it looked at, so off we went to the specialist today. I can’t imagine a more exciting way to spend a lunch hour.

The dermotologist looked at my back, told me how horribly sun damaged my skin is and that there is no need to worry about the mole on my back. However, she did look at my arms and noticed a bump that might lead to something down the road so we should just freeze the little thing right off. She scowled at a couple of other marks on my arms, and one newly exposed (from shaving my beard off) mark on my chin, which she said was probably an ingrown hair, and told me to grow my beard back to protect my face. She did all this in around 55 seconds, leaving with a curt “Get dressed”. I guess my sun damaged body was suffering more damage from the flourescent lights. Either that or my clean shaven face repulsed her.

A few minutes later the freezer queen, for lack of a better title, came in to the examining room. She was carrying a styrofoam coffee cup of liquid nitrogen. It was emitting a dry-ice type mist and making various hissing noises. The coffee cup was marked “do not discard this cup!” Apparently the coffee cup budget is very low for 2005 as this cup was rather beat up looking. I found her humorous looking as she had black hair that zinged all over the place. She looked a little crazy. I guess I would look crazy too if I was walking around with liquid nitrogen hissing in a styrofoam coffee cup. Most people mark their cups with their name. “Betty” “Vera” Not her though, her’s just said “Do not discard this cup.” Crazy.

So she read a prescription for the liquid cold stuff, “apply no more than 8 seconds”, which she promptly did. I hardly noticed. The little mark on my arm didn’t stand a chance, it promptly turned white (a la Mr Freeze) and then blistered up. I’m not suppose to do anything to it for 48 hours. I don’t really find that last directive fair, as the dermotologist circled the spot with a heavy black ball point pen. Sort of like “X” marks the spot. “You are here”.

I managed to wash the black ink off without touching the spot on my arm that is now twice the size it used to be. I’m told it will fall off soon.

I hope I don’t look like a crazy person with skin falling off my arm.

So tonight is my first night as a real employee of my new company. It’s my first night of “on call”. Dial tone crisis? Call SUPERTECH! In the back of my mind, I’m hoping that this is some sort of vicious hazing exercise, but in all truth I know it isn’t. I’ve already put in an hour of overtime this evening and I’ve only been home for 3 hours and 56 minutes as I type this. I have to admit that the geek in me is completely reveling in this new found geekdom; coordinating and dispatching and taking care of things. Am I going to be enjoying this at three in the morning? Probably not, but when I get feeling cranky, I can take a look at this blog entry and remember how excited I was to be a full member of the Network Operations Center team.

Speaking of calling Dr. Bombay, I read in one of the entertainment magazines that the Bewitched movie wrapped filming shortly before Christmas and is now in post production for an early July release date. Being the rabid Bewitched fan that I am, I am mostly excited about this movie. I think Nicole Kidman can pull it off nicely. The premise of the movie is a little bit different, in that it’s a movie about a witch who is part of a remake of the television show Bewitched, but I’m thinking that the spirit of the original series is going to shine through. If you haven’t seen the teaser, please take a moment to do so if you’re so inclined. I’m delighted to see the original twitch noise has been preserved. And I think Shirley MacLaine is going to be absolutely fabulous as Endora!

And speaking of all things witchly, I’ve been doing some more reading on Paganism and Wicca. Very, very fascinating. I’m not going to be levitating or freezing time or anything other “charming” things, but I find the whole nature based belief system resonates well with my soul. When other religions are preaching that you can’t do this or you can’t be that and there’s only one path that you can follow, it’s nice to read about a belief that accentuates the positive in each and every person and accepts others for who and what they are.

Tinka tinka tee!

With today being the first “real” day of the New Year, I’ve been getting ready to implement my New Years Resolutions. I kicked off the fun this morning by riding the exercise bike longer than I have in a long time. I also made a point of keeping my heart rate up above 140, something that I can’t usually do without an assist. I felt great afterwards. Tonight I’m going to do some weight training goodness and see if I can find my abs after three months or so.

I then decided to shave off my beard and just keep the mustache. Subconsciously I think I equate “beard” with “heavy” and eat accordingly. I think the lack of beard helped when I jumped on the scale. That and the removal of belly button lint.

It was then off to the grocery store to buy some salad stuff and other assorted veggies and fruits. On the way, I tuned in the calming Jazz Café on Sirius radio. Instead of the banging beats of dance music, it was soothing to drive to the sweet sound of Jazz. I didn’t even flip anyone off or anything! Who knew?

At the grocery store I did something I haven’t done in seven years. I returned cans and bottles. Instead of just dumping them in the recycling bin, I actually returned them for the deposit. It took over $6.00 off the grocery bill! I shudder to think how much money I’ve recycled over the years, but why look back when you’re on a roll?

And now I’m watching figure skating with Katarina Witt on NBC while I’m typing my blog entry. There’s a certain beauty to figure skating that can not be duplicated elsewhere. I prefer the skaters that wear more normal clothes (jeans, flashy top, etc) instead of some of the bedazzled outfits they sometimes show up with, but nonetheless figure skaters are so very talented. Wow.

A new era kicks off tomorrow on many fronts. Earl starts his new responsibilities as General Manager of two plants. He’s now in charge of the whole shebang both here and at the plant in Scotia, outside of Albany. While he’ll be traveling a little more, it won’t be as far, as his last trip to Ohio is next week.

With tomorrow I start my first week of “on call” for work. I guess that makes me officially part of the team. It’ll be intense, but its a challenge that I look forward to. Besides, it means overtime pay, which is always an added bonus.

Earl and I kicked off the New Year with family today, joining my Mom’s side of the family for a little get together. My cousin and her daughter were up from Florida, so we all had the chance to visit and laugh and just basically have a good time.

On the way home, Earl and I decided that we need to see if 2005 is going to be a lucky year for us. We stopped off at the local casino to test Lady Luck.

2005 is going to be a good year.

We came home ahead of the game, with both of us winning about the same amount of money. I didn’t play foolishly this time, but I did take the time to spread myself all over the casino, playing roulette, a little bit of slots, some of the money wheel and then more roulette. I like to think that I played smart. I sang along with the piped in 80s music. I commented to the man next to me that he had a very nice goatee (he did). I think he appreciated the remark. I tipped the roulette dealer whenever I won. I thanked the universe for smiling on me tonight. It was all good.

I’m so looking forward to 2005!

~~~~~

I’ve added a guestbook to the site. Now if people don’t have a particular blog entry they wish to comment on, they can just throw something nice in the guestbook.

The time has come to wrap up 2004 and leap on in to 2005. While I do like to ramble on about fond memories, I’m not going to bore everyone with a “The Best of J.P. for 2004” type blog entry. Life is too short to just focus on 1/36th of my life.

Earl and I spent the day on a little road trip. I bought some clothes at Bon Ton courtesy of a gift certificate from my father, then we trekked on down to WestFarms Mall outside of Hartford, Connecticut for a nice dinner at California Pizza Kitchen, some shopping at the Apple store and some eye candy appreciation.

With the temps hovering around 55 degrees today, I was tempted to open the sunroof and enjoy the sunshine, after all that’s what we always do on New Year’s Eve in Upstate N.Y., right? I was content to just enjoy the day off with my lover. I did something I haven’t done in a very, very long time. I called into the “Derek and Romaine” show on Sirius Out Q 149. Yes, I was Average Joe listener trying to win a trivia contest. The question? “Name who was stranded on Gilligan’s Island.” I was waiting for my chance to sing the theme song, but no, some lame ass rattled them off out of order. Oh well, maybe next time. It was a nice change of pace to not be exempt from winning a radio contest because of my career choice for a change.

Now we’re going to watch the ball drop, exchange some private moments and call it a night.

The news is filled with nonstop images and sounds of the devastation left behind from the Indian Ocean Tsunamis. Unbelieveable stories. So much destruction. But little glimmers of hope. Help is pouring in from all over the world with what could be the worst natural disaster ever. I was a little bit surprised when I logged onto the Apple site today and found this.



That’s right, Apple modified its main web page to solicit donations for relief efforts for those affected by the Tsunamis. Will it help? Absolutely. A PR move? Probably. But who cares? Apple is doing a good thing. And I applaud their efforts.

An unmade bed, a cat on my head, lover at my side. Who could ask for anything more.

Earl’s quote of the night: “Where’s the rest of the fuckin’ blankets?”

Ain’t love grand.