Coffee Rhetoric: private journal
Showing posts with label private journal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label private journal. Show all posts

September 13, 2011

These and Those: Au revoir à l'Eté

Summer... I laughed, I cried, I scowled, I scratched my head... this summer wasn't too bad but it wasn't without a few bumps and snags either. I've learned a great deal about navigating the landscape known as freelance writing. Important lessons such as; how to be discerning with people who employ the services of freelancers and adapting to ever changing personalities in this current economic/job climate. Oh, I've learned some great lessons, even if I had to experience more inconveniences. There's a whole chapter of my adult life titled UNFORESEEN INCONVENIENCES, in fact. That's where I archive them all. Instead of bullet points, I sub-categorize them under expletives. 
Anyway, stumbling is always frustrating once you start gaining momentum. I always liken it to the damsel in distress in those formulaic slasher films, who trips over a tree stump while running wildly away from the murderous psychopath, while he creeps calmly and patiently towards his prey.  As I always do, I endure as best as I can- (like the last heroine standing... battered and bruised by her stalker) - and just catapult myself forward towards, flailing towards stability. 
Like the leaves change color during the fall, I've determined, I too need to change colors with the season and tweak the knobs on my personality to suit the situation. Never in a disingenuous way, of course... but in a more guarded way. I want to play the shamelessly selfish jerk sometimes and not dial it down just because some other selfish jerk scoffs. I get too excited when I've stumbled on some collaborative thing that seems as if it's too good to be true. More often than not, it is. I had the opportunity to work on some amazing projects, with some extremely driven and passionate people, so in many instances, I remained steady on my feet and carved a niche for myself and my portfolio. But others have proved to be certainly uncertain in the end. You win some, you loose some. I'm sick of singing that particular hook and song, so I'll end with c'est la vie so forth and so on. The world is a vast place with so many undiscovered nooks and corners. I won't put my personal endeavors on the back-burner to help peddle someone else's agenda, only to end up with the short end of the stick... not anymore. Some things are no longer negotiable when it comes to my own personal growth and desires. I may be an insomniac, but I dream just like everybody else. I resolve to continue at my own pace and no one else's, unless it's lucrative and a good fit. 
While I'm not exactly thrilled over what the winter weather will bring (especially after what last year's snow storms wracked) or its starkness, I'm actually glad that summer is coming to an end. Fall is my favorite season and I tend to more introspective, more creative, and thirstier for robust Spanish wines. I also enjoy dressing for the fall. Fall's color palate suit me and I love indulging my love of opaque tights and boots. 
As always... To Be Continued...  

August 08, 2010

Maintaining

So far, I'm maintaining. Despite not being exactly where I'd like to be, not getting exactly what I want to have, so forth and so on, I feel somewhat at peace... somewhat. There're definitely intermittent moments where the weather forecast is fraught with cumulus clouds. During that those moments, Horus steps in front of me and angrily jabs his fist at the sky as Wadjet keeps me under her watchful eye... making sure I don't collapse in a dejected heap. It is then that I continue to flail and fight, the undeniable resolve of Sekhmet. 
Fringed ends are trimmed for good and I tightly knot the freshly shorn and intact ones. That is all the closure I need, because regressing is the interpretive dance form I'd rather not engage in. I'm exasperated, but I continue to trudge forth, shrugging off non essential baggage, lightening my load as best as I can, while holding on to those provisions crucial to my survival. I've got those neatly packed away in a trendy, brown leather hand bag. They sit amongst my lip gloss, hand cream, wallet, pepper spray, ear phones, and mobile phone. 
I'm sputtering forward, forcing my way through as many doors as I can push my way through... Please note the tip jar to the left. No bills lower than Good Karma and Well Wishes, thank you very much. 

February 03, 2010

Just Drive

I feel like I've reached an impasse. A never-ending maze with an elusive exit. So many decisions, so many things to nibble away at, but I'm completely deadlocked. People, places, and things never cease to perplex the hell out of me. And at times, it's overwhelming. I've had moments where I've attempted to check out, but alas, to no avail, because worries, my thoughts continue to plague me. I manage to be aloof in certain aspects of my life i.e., dating; wishy washy suitors, and an endless supply of assholes. In other aspects? Not so much; opportunities, my livelihood, my future. 
Ofttimes I think I have a dubious guardian, who loves toying with me and seeing me grapple with the worst luck! Or perhaps I'm an unwitting contestant in some twisted reality television program, where the masses are watching me wrestle and fight my way to the top. I don't know, but I continue to shadowbox. To bob, weave, sidestep... dance... twirl my way to what I feel is rightfully mine! I'm at a loss right now. I don't know how to plot my next move but I do know that I'm ready for my turn. I'm thinking. I'm pondering. I'm pissed. Intense game of mind play at work. Please do not disturb!
The fight continues. This is round 20.

December 28, 2009

These and Those

I'll be back to reflect in 2010. I'll be back to relay some newer ideas here and there. Things are inching along ever so slowly, but surely... I think.
I have much to mull over. I have much to possibly share and relay. But I definitely need to take a moment, prior to my reflection. This blog here... it has been cathartic. It has been great. And I'm still here to spill open.

August 19, 2009

Off-Balance

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what wouldn't be it would. You see?" Italic
-Alice, Alice in Wonderland
I don't know the minute intricacies of the term 'qui' (better recognized as 'chi'), but my research has indicated that it basically translates to "energy flow," and is compared to western notions of energeia or elan vital. Further research and etomology indicates that energeia was a technical term used widely by Aristotle and may or may not be the source for the word energy... or the term 'being at work', activity or perhaps actuality. Elan vital, on the other hand (coined by French philosopher Henri Bergson in his book 'Creative Evolution'), more or less translates to "vital force"... electricity, life, essence being breathed into something or other...
What does all of this philosophical rambling mean? In plain language, it's me saying my chi... my energy... my life force is off balance. Suddenly, despite my optimism (and struggle to remain so), is on shaky ground. I have these intermittent moments (exacerbated by PMS) where I'm gripped by anxiety: My stomach hurts and is all gurgly, I may get a headache, my sinuses become plugged giving way to a sore throat, a zit or two, cumulus clouds reign for the briefest of moments and I start brooding. My mood becomes dark. I become leery, introspective, somewhat misanthropic, because then I start mulling things over. People aren't who or what they seem. ... Gripping, I feel as if I'm hanging on by the tips of my fingers. And I'm just... solitary. ... Alone by choice and because sometimes I have no choice. I just am. Some folks don't get, or want to understand just... stuff. Instead they want to dictate, speculate, and worse yet... patronize, forgetting completely what it's like to struggle over a hurdle or to have off days... or to just feel mentally drained. Suddenly I don't have the right to feel worried about the immediate future and my livelihood. So I sort of withdraw and become self-contained.
The hunt is an exasperating process. The climate we're in makes it seem like I'm appealing to a panderer sometimes. And it's disconcerting. Either way, I'm still hanging on. by.the.tips.of.my.fingers. My pride and ego are like an undulating tidal wave, but I'm not broken... just bruised a little.
*Image: Paul Gaugin's The Brooding Woman, 1891

August 11, 2009

Getting On

Coffee, tea, wine, friends, me. Me, wine, coffee, he. He, she, a little poetry, family, books, and cultural activities... These things among other interests are helping me keep my sanity. These. things. are. helping. me. keep. my. SANITY.
I haven't inhaled any toxic or noxious fumes. My mind is still crystal clear. I have intermittent moments of frustration, but I'm still here. I can still hear. I'm can steal here. I have STEEL back there.
I'm rambling. But it's all incoherently connected. Thursday will find me spilling open in front of strangers, Saturday will find me a year older and ever the more wiser. Next week will find me still ducking, bobbing, and weaving as I shadow box. The week after next, I'll still be standing and tanner... my resolve stronger.
Needless to say, I've stumbled, but I'm none to worse for wear, despite those frustrating interludes. In SPITE of those frustrating interludes.
That is all.

June 28, 2009

Disturbia

As difficult as it is to admit this out in the open, some days I feel... lonely. I feel alone. I honestly have never admitted that out loud... verbally or in writing. Here's where the revelation becomes slightly more provocative... I feel lonely because I don't trust very many people, and I'm an extremely leery and guarded woman. Certain circumstances as of late, have caused me to become even more self-contained. Nothing worse than opening yourself up to folks... whether within the context of dating or budding friendships... only to have your privacy or your trust compromised.
I honestly don't know that I feel that bad about being a loner, however. This post is definitely no lament. I mean, I have my moments where I think I need to be more trusting, more open, but then I shake it off and say "eff it."
This is something I grapple with daily, I did as a teenager and I still do at the age of 31. Perhaps this is why I'm still single, while both of my sisters (one older, one younger) are married. I've never had a long term relationship or sustained one long enough to want to introduce him to my family or friends. I must say, my wariness isn't unwarranted. Men I've dated have proved to be, wishy-washy, self-entitled jerks. I'm not one to settle just for the sake of having warm man parts to keep my mattress comfy. Friends? I have very few. I keep the circle tight. I've networked and tried to reach out to no end, only to come up against shady types, who aren't that trustworthy afterall, and will flip quicker than a mafia rat. One friendship that continues to sustain is my dearest and bestest... Cat. Who I've mentioned numerous times on this blog. Thank heaven for her. I guess my point is, today is one of those days where I'm feeling, well, bored and lonely and felt the need to spill open, out loud about it. While I'm not particularly saddened or regretful for being as leery as I am, it can become exasperating at times ...

January 23, 2008

No Love

Amidst all the chaos, the trials and tribs, my fall and subsequent rise. In the crux of my moving, job hunting, cursing my bad luck, finally starting and now settling into a new job, apartment hunting, contemplation, absorption, ups and downs... In the midst of this egomaniacal reverie... I haven't, not once, entertained the thought of dating, men, signiffy others, sex or lack thereof, or the joys of digital manipulation, even. It has been awhile since I've lamented over my solitary confinement. I haven't thought about ghosts from my pasts at all. They've all become nameless, insubstantial phantoms. I don't wonder what they're doing, I don't care where they are. I don't remember how they look, smell, how much they got on my nerves. What they did to make me sigh with resignation. No dating... away with the online dating profiles, peer to peer contact, considering dating prospects, making eye contact and averting my gaze right before something clicks... all of these things have become my current reality. Because I haven't thought about it until this second, none of it has really mattered or made me feel any self-loathing and self-pity. Oh, I've become quite used to my aloof and cold nature and have settled into my chilly exterior (my interior is quite warm). I honestly don't know what to make of it really. I'm neither pleased with myself or unhappy about how self contained and focused I am. Once things have quieted down, only time will tell what the dating future will conjure up. What creatures will come slithering out from under their moist rock, which normal, sane, handsome gentlemen will take me off guard in spite of myself or what embarrassing yet salacious fodder I'll feed to the masses (or perhaps keep to myself). ... Only time will tell. I am ready for another adventure abroad... this much I know is true.

January 05, 2008

La Guerre des Soeurs

When you consider who your adversaries are, depending on your situation, none cut like a sharp ginzu knife or are as compelling than antagonists from your immediate family. Situations brew, they fester, they percolate, and seethe. When they finally reach a fever pitch and culminate in an all out war of words purged and wild gesticulating... it makes for a nasty and uncomfortable situation. It also makes for some interesting revelations and necessary moments of clarity.
How does one navigate the complexities of family ties when you are disliked by a sibling... have known for years a close family member holds disdain for you and hate your guts, despite strained efforts to play "nice," or are (yourself) harboring distrust, mutual disdain, and dislike for a sib? The answer is, despite what you know is right... at a certain point in your life you don't anymore. You stop zig zagging. You end your journey, cut your unfortunate losses and reluctantly move on, because none of us have the luxury of choosing what type of family members we want or how we want them to relate to us. While some people have a great rapport with their siblings, others have strained ones that eventually crack and then break from the weight. All that's left to do is to remove yourself as far away from the person and situation as soon as time and resources will allow. And that's exactly what I'm aggressively attempting to do. A sad state of affairs, but considering the rough year I've had and my knack for catching a mean case of bad luck, I've grown numb to anything else negative that has happened or may potentially happen in my life. I feel and emote for those few seconds and then I glaze over... hot water turning into ice. Stoicism has become a code of conduct I've grown adept at. It's my armor and shield, if you will.
I never understood the concept of estrangement, of people separating themselves from immediate family members... moms, dads, brothers, sisters... until today. The next couple of months will probably be awkward, but c'est la vie. Such are the breaks for those who are "first born second." The world doesn't end. It may choke, sputter, and gasp for breath... but it doesn't end. ;-( ...

December 29, 2007

Stepping It Up

The new year is upon us. Right around the corner. I actually look forward starting my new year on the good foot. I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions, as I think approving one's life is a feat best approached on a daily basis, not once a year. I look forward to tackling new opportunities with fervor and excelling. I feel... hopeful. I feel... triumphant. Bring it. I will look back at 2007 not with regret and bitterness, but with a feeling of nostalgia and will use the ugly as fuel for my drive. For those of you (and you know who you are) who are possibly wondering... or hoping that I'm wallowing and doing horribly... sorry to break it to you. But I'm not. I don't keep company with misery. Sorry. Those who truly know me and want the best for me, realize how resilient I am. It's nothing short of pathetic when people feed off of negativity, and only want to hear about the bad... they zone out when the good is relayed to them. It's nothing short of sick, when people suck the life out of your energy and exacerbate one's misfortune and bad karma. Being the superstitious and neurotic person that I am, I truly believe in emotional vampirism. People who just suck the life out of you... and secretly wish you ill. Or look for flaws so they can feel good about themselves. None of that. I'm even more intolerant of bullshit and bitter personalities. I'm relentless, in fact! As if my zero tolerance policy could get any stiffer. Emotional blood suckers... Take a long hard look at my boot and lick it very much please. Anyway, Everyone else, please enjoy your New Year's Eve celebration(s) and don't be too hard on yourselves with the resolutions! Respect.

December 11, 2007

This Is It...

I finally (and successfully) transported all of the essentials, and regretfully left certain other things behind (which is the worst part of moving because you want to take and keep everything you don't necessarily need anymore). Pay no attention to the beat looking mattress in the background. It served its purpose and I left it behind. Anyway, the whole process of packing up, moving, storing, starting fresh is a bit harrowing and exhausting. But one must do what one needs to do to move forward. I am anxious for what the near future holds, and will tackle every new challenge with fervor! While I don't relish having to move all of this ish onemogin, I'm hoping that the new dig I get will be bigger, more cost effective, and will prompt me to entertain more. While I wont miss dealing with my leasing company (my last year with them was somewhat tumultuous) and my high ass energy bill (I'm convinced I was also paying for the surrounding bars' and clubs' energy as well as my own), I will miss the drunken debauched seediness of my former 'hood, the convenience of living downtown, and the friendliness of many of my neighbors. I do anticipate moving as close to the downtown area as I can, however. I'm a constant fixture down there, so my presence will still be felt and known (to anyone local, who actually gives a damn about it). My muscles are sore, and while I don't know what I was built for, it sure as hell wasn't for heavy lifting of boxes and laborious tasks of the like. While much work and organizing still has to be done, I was finally able to decompress for a few hours today, and had some delicious Bubble Tea. While doing some serious thinking and planning.
I've decided not to bother entertaining any paramours or dates (not that there were any worth entertaining or caring about to begin with) - because I am completely focused on myself and my restructuring (I've also decided to commit myself to even more self absorbency and remaining aloof). Of course I will keep all interested parties abreast.
P.S. I attended a wonderful holiday party in the midst of all this madness, this past Saturday, and Anika Noni Rose's (Tony award winning Broadway actress and most recently from the film Dreamgirls)- daddy was there. He was very nice and not pretentious at all. The sole purpose of my relaying this story is to brag. That's it.

December 01, 2007

Please Standby

I'm packing and getting ready to make a move... Restructuring and getting back on track is an overwhelming feat. Packing however, sucks more than anything that has ever sucked. I got rid of some shoes and still have too many pairs to contend with, so for the time being, they're all strewn in the middle of my floor. I've just been stepping over them. Which is a pain in the middle of the night when trying to feel my way in the dark, to the bathroom. Hopefully the very near future will bring welcome changes, a bigger apartment, and new opportunities, which I'll tackle with gusto! In the meantime, I've been killing myself packing and pondering what comes with, what's beat and needs to be trashed, and what goes into storage. I've also been looking into getting a post office box... which would make accepting gifts (hint-hint) a lot easier from kind readers. In any event, perhaps if I stop taking Bacaradi rum breaks, I could accomplish this feat quicker. Anyway, also enjoy this cool picture I took while riding down the street in West Hartford, CT. New England is a beaut, during the fall.

November 20, 2007

The Cure

I'm OMing the pressure off of my chest... Whenever I breathe in, it's reminiscent of weight lifting a heavy barbell and the back of my shoulder pops with each deep breath I pull in.

November 18, 2007

Prisoner of Words

Regression

I'm regressing. And I don't like it one bit. I'm struggling not to go back to black. Not to become morose again. The impending gloom is hovering like a dark cloud and I'm tempted to just stand there and wait for the downpour and risk getting soaked, because I'm tired. The fatigue feels like a heavy weight on my chest and it's constricting my air flow. Literally and figuratively, I cannot breathe. I inhale and then I exhale and I can't seem to catch my second breath... because of the pressure on my chest. Destructive thoughts are starting to dance around tauntingly in my mind... causing my soul to scream in frustration. I'm hard on myself. Am a perfectionist of sorts and when I don't triumph in some way, shape, or form... I become self contained. ... And it's maddening. It's masochistic, because I take solace in being withdrawn... Ugh and I'm effing sick of being sullen! I do realize that people live lives that're far worse than my own... but narcissism and self absorbency has dictated that I am entitled to feel this way! I have a right to be a sullen, sour woman... but I HATE it!
I've managed to smile through it and roll with the punches. Smile graciously when advised "Oh, you'll get through it. Things will work out." When I really wanna shout, "Fuck off! Easy for YOU to say, you aren't in my shoes!" Even though I know friends and family are just trying to stay optimistic for me. And are worried about me. Uncompromising situations usually roll off my back like hot butter on a biscuit, but I get overwhelmed. I got overwheeeelmed. A couple of days ago upon returning home from the store... I put my bags down in my small (soon to be history) kitchenette. I didn't even remove my coat. I started sobbing from the impact of the onslaught. I smeared meticulously applied black eye-liner and mascara. The tears fell down my face, rested on my lips and mixed with my brownie cream lip gloss. I clenched my fists and avoided another one of those angry moments where I smash things in a blind rage... and then realize what I've done after coming out of that haze of anger... regretting ruining my stuff. I sat down. Money, men, wish washy personalities, not knowing, knowing, intuition, paranoia, the struggle ... sometimes it's too much. I cursed under my breath. And then I picked up the cell phone and called my sister...

November 06, 2007

Résurrection

Picture a moment in space and time where you've become trapped in a stifling box. You suddenly become stagnant and lose your place in the rat race, because you've dropped out. Not willingly. Not without lack of trying to reach the finish line, but from fatigue. You veer off to the side, lungs exhausted, holding your sore sides trying to catch your second wind. You've made your way over to a nearby bench to settle. You settle out of mere necessity and survival and no other reason. Your discontentment breeds resentment, because while you've settled in order to survive, you still find yourself hanging on by the tips of your fingers. You're hanging from a cement ledge, decorated with pigeon droppings (some old and crusted over, some freshly dropped), your feet wildly kicking... a desperate attempt to gain leverage and hoist yourself up. But alas to no avail. You basically just give up and decide to meet the asphalt's acquaintance. Just before you decide to let go, someone stomps on your fingers with a lethal pair of oxfords, forcing your throbbing fingers to slip. You fall. arms flailing wildly in the wind. On your way down you glimpse a blur of faces, watching you fall to your death. You hit the ground. Lying flat on your back. You're stunned. You can't move. First your eyes focus on hulking human forms staring at you from where you've fallen. Smug in the grandeur of their positions. At first you can't move. You lay there... looking up at a sea of genuinely concerned faces staring o'er your crumpled body. Sore and possibly broken, you somehow manage to hoist yourself up. Testing your right arm first. You slowly lift it in the air, grimacing from the pain and effort. Stiff, straight you make a fist with your hand. Slowly but surely, you're able to lift your middle finger in a grand gesture of triumph. You aren't defeated nor are you paralyzed. Your joints seem to work fine. More importantly you've managed to survive the fall. Finger in the air, you watch the hulking silhouettes retreat back inside and away from your moxie. Chagrined. It make take brief period to recover from your fall, but you're still triumphant... because you survived it.
Just saying. Imagine that scenario. That's it.

November 05, 2007

Solitaire

Sometimes, when I'm in a room full of people I still feel like a lone ranger. A mirage of bodies moving, side-stepping, dancing around me, yet somehow I never manage to stitch myself into the fabric of what's going on. There, but not completely there. Standing outside the perimeter, weaving in and out of the crowd like an apparition. Selfish, quiet, and introverted as I study snatches of conversations and examine people's body language. Trying to gauge what the moods are. It's almost as if I'm existing in an alternate world while smack dab in the middle of reality. Escapism in its most narcissistic form. I engage in small talk sparingly. At times stingy with what I offer up. Stoic, aloof, embittered because I can't get into the groove like everyone else. Afraid that any vain attempt would be fruitless and seem disingenuous and forced. So I exist in that moment, in a purple haze... as if under the influence of some potent drug or libation. Dazed. And content with my restraint. Fine with the fact that I am out of my element. As much as I tout the benefits of my solitude, I curse it as well. Because I've grown comfortable in it. Too comfortable.

October 22, 2007

The Wait

Sunday was relatively quiet and uneventful- (A welcome reprieve from Friday's adventures). The sun was blindingly glorious, the weather was unseasonably warm. Save for a couple of errands, I didn't do much. Coffee and a bagel... slathered with onions and chives cream cheese on wheat. I watched two extremely important DVDs: La Haine- (extremely compelling in its content re: urban disenchantment- in the les banlieue section of Paris- with law enforcement, marginalization, and racism in France. Visually striking in black and white and universal to every inner city/"urban" situation...) and Games of Love & Chance - (a look at young minority teenagers coming of age in the suburbs of France, while preparing for a school production and dealing with the reality of their environs. Reminiscent of the film, Raising Victor Vargas)- In the midst of all this, I thought and I pondered... I pondered and thought. Sometimes I wish I were able to do neither. To just still my thoughts for a minute or two. Check out. They run around in circles. It's maddening. In the meantime, I'm still waiting. Waiting to hear. And that pressure that's been weighing heavy on my chest, still hasn't let up ... The malaise of anxiety.
**painting (above-left) from www.doctorhugo.org/paintings/index.html**

October 15, 2007

Tantalus is My Homeboy

Drawing straws and constantly coming up short, is exasperating. In fact, it's downright maddening. Especially when you think you're making headway. When you're soooo close to triumph. My face hurts from all the (fake) smiling, taking 'ish in stride, and feigning optimism in the wake of so many roadblocks. I feel like going outside in the chilly fall air, and screaming at the top of my lungs. I want the whole world or at least those within a 10 block radius, to feel... know... experience what adverse frustration feels like. You know that twisting feeling one gets at the pit of the stomach... when you've overindulged in way too much of a good thing... like intensely flavored Middle Eastern fare or rich chocolate truffles, rolled in even more powdered cocoa? That is what adverse frustration feels like. At least for me. ...
I breathe in... and then I exhale. I breathe in... and then I exhale. I try to stop the rapid beating in my chest. I unclench my fists and I massage the insides of my right hand, and then use the right to massage the left. And then I dive back in. Making sure to pinch my nostrils closed so as not to breathe in too much of the elements, because I don't wanna drown or knock the wind out of my person ...

September 21, 2007

I Think? That's What Happened... Maybe? I don't know...

When you ASSUME. You make an ASS out of U and ME.

Dear Presumptuous One,
If there is one thing that irritates me, it's when people try to read or over analyze my demeanor, acts, body-speak, deadpan facial expression or what have you, and assume they know me within two minutes. People presume to think they have me aaaall-llll figured out in a matter of minutes, and then will try to read me the riot act, using their poorly gathered data against me. ahem- See, me? I prefer to talk to people. Cop a proper feel from the comeliness of their personalities, if you will. Ask, probe, poke, prod, confirm so that I truly know. Getting to the root of some matter does wonders when one is attempting to be accurate in their assumption about someone. As time consuming as it can be, I like to do thorough research. No one ever scored a proper grade on a term paper, having done shoddy research... not having cited their sources. Paraphrasing for their convenience, in that regard (when using direct quotes) just doesn't cut it. Period. You either quote or cite verbatim or don't bother attempting to relay or repeat. Makes for a sloppy argument. Makes for a dubious presentation. In any event, I bid you well on your journey. Perhaps in your new-prior life, this will be your best, last, greatest chance at a great start to a new, but familiar beginning. Makes sense? Good. It didn't make any sense to me either. I guess I'm hoping that you've learned your lesson and that you will proceed accordingly in your new dealings. Where I'm from, people tend to prefer personalities that are genuine and organic. In fact, I think that's a universal feeling. No one likes a disingenuous facade hiding behind a vacuous smile and dead eyes. Sayonara, my friend. And do your research thoroughly. People don't like being defamed and misunderstood, without so much as an inquiry. Your truth is not necessarily the truth. You're forgiven. Godspeed. Keep it tight.
Regards,
Coffey