Since starting this section of the website, there have been a few entries that have turned out really well. The archives are great if you want to get the flow of things, but I did want to highlight some of the entries that got the best (or biggest) reaction as well as a few that I just like (for my own reasons). So here are the best of the commentary entries as picked by me. Drop me a line if you have a request for something to be placed here.

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February 17, 2004

I'm probably going to get in trouble for this. I rarely act without first giving myself time to calm down or at least talking with people first, but the more I think about it I need to get this off my chest.

This entry is a tale of two people. These two people have little in common, save for the fact that this entry is meant to say goodbye to them both:

The first person I didn't know all that well. Even now, after having known her as more than a face in the crowd for a few months, I know I'm not as well equipped to write something about who she is or why she left. That task is better left to someone who knew her better. The fact is, though, that her leaving Penn State caught me off guard. It was rather sudden and unexpected and thus somewhat disorienting to hear. She had the same semester standing as I did, and to be honest I know I personally could get through just about anything knowing I only have a year left. However, my circumstances are not hers. She obviously felt it was time for a change and was confident enough to make it.

The second person is someone who has been an integral part of my life for a little over four years. One of my closest friends, she was there for me when I needed her most and I did my best to be there for her as well.

Over the last few months, however, things have changed between us. Things were always awkward after our relationship ended, but as I said before, she was there when she had to be. As she went to college, became closer to her boyfriend (one could even say to the detriment of her personality) and found new friends, it was obvious that the friends she had in high school were quickly fading into the background. This in and of itself is understandable. People change, which sometimes means people grow apart.

I guess it just hit me the last night before I came back to Penn State, when I came to pick up something she had of mine, that I was next on the list to be forgotten. When someone you dub your "best friend" comes by to see you before they leave for two months, it's generally a good thing to talk to them, be social, and then say goodbye. Instead, what I got was equal parts apathy and contempt, as if I wasn't welcome. Granted, she had her boyfriend and a few friends over, but it's not like I was dropping in unannounced or that she wasn't aware I was coming. In fact, this little visit had been postponed a week prior to this. Still, while her boyfriend was hospitable and social, she remained on the sofa, neither making eye contact nor the slightest effort to appear happy to see me.

If this was all, I'd be ok with it. Like I said, people grow apart, and that's ok. In this specific instance, however, I have a serious problem with this. For someone who led me on for six months because she couldn't own up to the fact that she never liked me that way in the first place, asked me to lie or hide things from her friends (including boyfriends) and family, and for someone who would constantly make plans and never follow through with them to treat me like this is absurd. For too long I've hidden things from others so she could escape consequences for her actions. For too long I let her treat me however she wanted just because she was there sporadically. What I learned last semester, something I should have known all along, was that real friends are always there. Friends are honest with each other. I guess in that sense we were never friends, and saying goodbye to her is but a formality, inevitable all these years.

Why did I group these together? Both realized that there was a change to be made in their lives. Both set out to adjust to their new vision of what they should be. The big difference, though, is that one achieved it by being honest with themselves and others, carrying themselves with dignity and class. The other lied, exhibiting classlessness and a fundamental allergy towards honesty. I hold a lot of respect for those who can deal with themselves and others honestly. I hold little to none for those who can't. To Val: I hope these times find you better than when you decided to leave. May you find happiness in your true path, whatever it may be. To Kelli: I hope I'm wrong. If I am, prove it. Otherwise, since you obviously have better things to attend to, don't let me stand in your way.

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October 21, 2004

Yeah, yeah, it's been a long time since my last update. There are some things still in progress for the site that I swear will get done eventually.

Occasionally in my life, I have so much going on in my head that I can't sort it out. When this happens, I talk to the only known being who can help me sort this out: God. I talk to God upon occasion and find his advice to be reasonable, though a bit confusing at times. Anyway, when pondering this latest entry, with so much to say and no real way of saying it, I decided to ask for his help on the matter. This is what transpired:

ME: Hey God.

GOD: What is it this time?

ME: I have a few questions.

GOD: Of course you do.

ME: I had a fun time this summer in D.C. I learned a lot, met wonderful people, and found out where my life is headed over the next few years. Two things still bother me though. First, am I really too hard on myself (as Deena and others claimed) or was I just not around long enough for my warts to show through? Also, given what transpired, did I make the right decisions regarding Holly?

GOD: The answer to the first question is a little of both. Everyone has their bad qualities, just as everyone has good qualities. What we remember of other people has to do with both what we see and how they present themselves. You're going to think of yourself however you will, but understand that focusing on only your own negative qualities is no better than someone who focuses on only their good qualities. A narcissistic person is really annoying. Your attitude pisses people off just as much when you don't temper it with a little self confidence. You're the one who always preaches balance, so balance dammit!

With regards to Holly, you acted exactly how you always act in that situation. Standing on principle is admirable. You wanted to play it safe. You had a friend and didn't want to lose her. That's a good attitude to have. Occasionally, though, principle has to take a back seat to reality. Not every situation is the same. Maybe Holly was interested, maybe she wasn't. Maybe she would have gone out with you during the program, maybe the last night was just an abberation. Whatever the situation, the past is the past. Its done and over with. What you need to learn from this is that just because something is good doesn't necessarily mean its too good to be true. Someone, somewhere, will have interest. When that happens, you need to be receptive and flexible. If you're a tightass about some little thing here or there when that situation arises, the opportunity will pass you by. Just remember Ashley.

ME:Ouch.

GOD: Exactly. Most people learn that lesson after the first time. Eventually you'll get it. Everyone does in the end. Until then...well, expect more of the same.

ME:Yeah, I guess. The next thing I wanted to know is about my future.

GOD: We've been over this. I'm omnipotent and all knowing, but one thing I'm NOT is a fortune teller. That would ruin the surprise which, I must admit, is part of the fun of being me. Seeing people's faces when some unexpectedly great thing happens is one of my true joys in life. Of course, it's also fun to watch people get bad surprises as well.

ME: Geez...do I detect a little schadenfreude there?

GOD: Only a little, if they REALLY deserve it. Otherwise it's just an unfortunate necessity of my job.

ME: Fair enough. Anyway, I wasn't going to ask about anything specific, just whether I'm going in the right direction. Sometimes I just don't feel like I know where I'm going or what I'm doing.

GOD: You're 21. It's not like you need to know right now. In fact, you're in a good spot given your situation. You're going to grad school, have taken the necessary steps, and have an idea as far as where you want to go job wise. You don't need to know exactly what you're going to be doing in 15 years. Keep your focus on what you need right now and you'll do just fine.

As far as everything else, just know you grew up in a weird family. Your parents and sister may have settled down at 22, but most people don't. A lot of people don't even know the person they wind up with at 21. Just relax and enjoy the ride.

Each time an opportunity in life has presented itself (aside from what we discussed earlier), you see it and take advantage of it. That's why you're in a good spot now. When you were despairing about a lack of direction in school, you found the public policy course. When the internship came about, you went for it. When ILH needed a president, you stepped up. When the people who would become your Penn State friends tried to cheer you up after that miserable week you had, you not only didn't drive them away, you let them in. In each situation, your decision was rewarded. Sure, not everything goes your way. The GPA could be a little higher, and the GRE scores aren't what you wanted. In the end, they'll do the job. You'll get where you need to go, wherever that may be. Keep your eyes open and you will see the road in front of you.

ME: Wow...how...Zen like.

GOD: Quiet you.

ME: Okay, okay. Last question. Since spring break of my sophomore year, I've seen a lot of strange and unbelievable things happen: my mother getting cancer, my sister getting married, the complete 180 of my grades, the death of my dog, me asking someone out (though the rejection was expected), finding new friends, being put in a position of power, the abrupt end to my friendship with Kelli, turning 21, disowning my aunt and uncle, and getting ready to graduate college. As if to drive this point home further, the Red Sox came back from three games down to beat the Yankees in New York for the pennant.

GOD: Yeah...that was great. I remain neutral in all sporting events (no matter how often athletes invoke my name) but this is something I've been setting this up for a while now.

ME: It was an 86 year practical joke?

GOD: Nah. The first 50 years or so were just the natural course of history with a little bit of bad luck. After a while though, that Steinbrenner guy just started to annoy me. I knew that simply losing wouldn't put him in his place. That's why I set up the last 30 years like this. Besides...did you see A-Rod in games 6 and 7? Classic.

ME: There's that whole schadenfreude thing again. Anyway, with all these weird things happening, is this some not so subtle hint that anything can and will happen in life?

GOD: Well...not really. You should be prepared for anything. Nothing comes out of nowhere. Even when it seems like it does, there's always something there that makes it not completely unexpected. So long as you remember this, you'll be prepared for whatever comes.

ME:So anything can happen, within reason?

GOD: Yes, within reason.

ME: Even me getting a date before the end of college?

GOD: Don't push it.

ME: Yeah, yeah. Thanks God.

GOD: No problem. I don't mind listening. You don't ask me to do everything for you. That kinda gets old after a while. Oh...I do want you to do something for me.

ME:What's that?

GOD: Update your website. What's it been, three months? It's only a week and change until the election and you still don't have the political stuff up yet, plus you promised new eulogies.

ME: Well...ok. Why do you care though?

GOD: I don't. It doesn't mean you shouldn't do it.

ME: Yeah...whatever.

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February 11, 2005

NOTE: This is a long entry. You'd better get some snacks

Valentine's day is on Monday. It is common knowledge that I detest Valentine's day and what it stands for (namely that it is the very definition of a Hallmark holiday). It also doesn't take much of a mental leap to figure out that I have never had a good February 14th. Such things are true regardless of relationship status, but how these factors are treated does depend on whether a person has someone to be with on that most horrible of holidays. Someone in a relationship could at least distract themselves from the sheer ludicrousness of the day because they are able to be a part of what the day claims to stand for, namely love.

For those of us who are single, the day still sucks and reminders of why it sucks are everywhere. When you're alone, there's no doubt that everything good is somewhat dulled (such as the good time spent between friends) and everything bad is magnified (like a Super Bowl loss, academic trouble, and, yes, dating strife). However, in an attempt to at least give Valentine's day a chance this year (since there's too much going on to dwell on my own well documented incompetancy with women), I'll analyze two distinct types of love, experienced by myself and my closest friends, and attempt to offer an upside to those situations. With a rediculously overforced smile, I begin:

-We all have our loves in life. Even apart from our relationships with others, we each have our hobbies, activities, and other distractions from life that give us joy to the point of calling it a "love." Some love their cars (and, indeed, other cars). Others love film. Still others experience a deep love of music. The emotion itself may be somewhat different, but the intensity of the affinity towards our particular love is still the same. Such a concept is not new to anyone, yet somehow we always manage to be ignorant of this fact when our loves clash with the loves of others.

I love Philadelphia sports. I love tracking wins, losses, which players come, which players go, and which players SHOULD come and go. I anxiously await drafts and believe that every year is the year that the Phillies, Flyers, Sixers, and Eagles go all the way. Granted, some questionable logic generally helps, since Philly teams are rarely the favorite. This phenomenon, called hope, is as central to being a sports fan as it is to living: with it, anything seems possible; without it, nothing is.

I suppose that's why I was not only rooting for the Eagles to win the Super Bowl, but picked them as well. Many predicted a Patriots blowout, but I noticed that when they did they used nothing to back it up other than "the Pats have been there before." Now, I used that logic in an earlier commentary, but only because I thought the game would be so close that such a quality would come into play. The Patriots blew out the Steelers on talent and execution, not experience. All tactical evidence for the Super Bowl pointed to a close game. The strength of the offense (passing for the Eagles, running for the Patriots) seemed to hit the weakness (or closest thing to it) on each defense. Experience could (and, it could be argued, did) win the day. The game itself was kind of sloppy, but as a football fan I could appreciate the close, hard fought game. As an aside, TO was simply astounding. There is no other way to put it.

Why, then, knowing that my team had lost a close game to a team at their level did it still hurt? As someone who has followed this team all his life, I feel like they are a part of my family. I want them to do well because I've been there through the ups and downs with them. Without the players, there are no fans. Without the fans, there are no players. For me, it even goes deeper than that. Philadelphia, as a city, has always been surrounded by its more successful peers. Its teams, when good, have never quite been good enough (or, at least, not the best). When the teams are bad, they are awful. Once in a while, for a moment, a team breaks away from mediocrity to make a run at true greatness, at well deserved success. Each time this occurs, those who have followed that team's path hold their collective breath, waiting to find out if this is the time that they get to shine. Without fail, they are left disappointed. The success is seen as a sign of better times that never come.

Seen in this light, its not hard to see why I relate to the plight of the Phillies, Flyers, Sixers, and (most recently) the Eagles. We are capable of better things than we have accomplished. Somehow, we always trip, unable to break through those things that hold us back. In the end, all that's left is a weak, hackneyed rallying cry of "Next year!" When the Eagles lost (again), it seemed to be yet another sign that we are condemned to our mediocrity. Hope for them, in some ways, is hope for me: the lovable loser who falls just short. After all, there's a reason Rocky was shot in Philly. However, I am used to the disappointment by now, both with myself and with my teams. This may be the scariest thought of all.

Some people can't understand this. Why not? It has nothing to do with any lack of capacity, nor any lack of intelligence (no matter what we think when others show their ignorance). No, they don't understand because their minds simply can't make that conversion. After all, what sports is to me may be what cars is to another, or charity work is to someone else. This does not make one better than another. They simply don't get it. They never will. I can't ask them to. I can only ask them to look at themselves and ask whether it's worth it to (genuinely) insult a friend in an attempt to get in a cheap shot at a sports team. I truly pity those who say yes.

- As much as I may wish to avoid it, one can't talk of love without getting into relationships. Given that a) I haven't been on a date since high school and b) that doesn't appear to be changing any time soon, I don't really have any kind of basis to comment. As such, I'll use my friends to illustrate my point.

Over the last six years, since I started helping my friends deal with their relationships, I've seen a lot of people come and go. Some stay for long periods of time (Chris F., Georg, and Alex (who is now my friend John's wife) come to mind), while many others are out of the picture as quickly as they entered it. Among my closest friends, only one couple (Kat and Jeremy) has stayed together for the length of time that I have known them. At times, helping these friends out by providing advice or a willing ear is akin to pulling for your team. Does it truly affect you if you get the outcome you want or not? On the surface, no. The emotional investment is what makes a difference to us.

My friend Kevin (K., for those who know both) recently met a girl he instantly fell for. It's not hard to tell when that happens, if you're there for the moment it occurs. The entire demeanor and style of the person shifts. That's human nature. For those who don't know him, Kevin is a poli sci major (like myself) who has a very strong personality. He will tell you exactly what's on his mind, regardless of whether that may or may not be the "appropriate" thing to do. He has a similar sense of humor as my other friends, which is to say biting, sarcastic, and filled with references to things he observes in life. Kevin is probably the flirtiest of my friends, but he also has the strong character and loyalty that I admire in people. These are people I try to surround myself with (and generally do).

When Kevin met Ada, he suddenly gained a filter in his brain to keep himself from saying something that would offend her. This, as stated before, was a first. I don't know a lot of what went on between them. I do, however, know Kevin well enough and I talked to him enough to know that this was not some random girl to him. This was someone he considered to be special, and he'd be damned if he screwed it up. Sure, she had a boyfriend. When someone like that comes around, though, you don't just let something like that get in the way. You go for what your heart tells you is the right one for you.

Again, I don't know exactly what happened. What I do know is that, as they got comfortable around each other, Kevin began to let himself return to normal. He let his humor and flirtiness return to their original levels. Apparently, this was enough for Ada to begin to doubt...something. Kevin? The concept of them being together? Her choice of lunch entree? I don't really know. What I do know is that it was apparently enough to question whatever the two of them had. She also let it slip that she thought that he was the type of guy who was only after the one thing that all guys are supposed to be after. Whether these two are related or not is not for me to speculate. What it tells me, though, is that she didn't really know him.

The constant among those I listed at the beginning of this section was a willingness and ability to be themselves. On top of that, there was a willingness and ability to deal with their significant others being themselves. This means accepting faults as well as loving the good stuff.

Is Kevin a saint? Hell no. He, like everyone, has his flaws and quirks. Neither are Jeremy, Kat, John, Alex, Chris, Jaymie, Georg, or Krissy. Which is more likely? Kevin was only after sex, or Kevin started to revert to his flirty ways, confusing Ada, resulting in her making the wrong read on the situation? Knowing Kevin as I do, there is little doubt in my mind that Ada simply couldn't reconcile the tame Kevin she first met with the wilder Kevin that she has gotten to know the last few weeks. If this is indeed the case, it is a damn shame. The fact is, both sides are equally Kevin, along with many other sides that weren't addressed.

Both sections had similar elements: staying true to what we hold in our hearts, the notion of falling just short, a large emotional investment, and the concept of hope. It hurts for Kevin because of the time and energy he put into trying to do things right, only to have them go wrong anyway. It hurts for me as a spectator, forced to watch another one of my rooting interests fall short again. The only cure for the hurt suffered is the same thing that caused it in the first place. It is the same thing that brings sports fans back, time and time again, to support their teams. It is the very thing that, during this or any time of year, gets people to roll the dice in an attempt to find a date. Simply, no matter what failures lie in the past, there is hope that next time will be different.

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April 24, 2005

On April 20, 2005, my grandmother passed away at the age of 80. This is in rememberance of her.

When talking about Dearie, you realize that words don't really do her justice. She loved unconditionally, though even that is quite possibly not a strong enough term. She was stubborn (indeed, one of the most stubborn people I've ever met), but that only added to her mystique and charm.

The best illustration of both of these points can be seen in the origin of her nickname. When my Uncle Jerry married into the family, they had a conversation about how to address each other. After "Mom" was ruled out as an option (along with Mrs. Hauser), Jerry decided to call her "Dearie." My grandmother, who associated the name with a song about old people, refused any association with the name. After all, she wasn't old. After some consternation, Dearie finally accepted the title. It would be one of the few arguements she would be known to lose. As kids, a few of my cousins and I would call her "Granddearie." The name became part of her identity. It was her stubbornness that brought about the name in the first place. It was her love for her family that enabled her to embrace a title she had resisted.

Another thing I think of when it comes to Dearie is the way she touched the lives of everyone she met. Normally, saying that is a tired cliche. With Dearie, it's not only accurate, but accurate to a degree that few I have ever met have achieved. It makes me think of my family's friends, such as Paul Keenan and Marianne McGettigan (now Walker), who viewed Dearie as a second mother for much of their lives. It makes me think of my friend Kelli who, despite only actually meeting Dearie a few times, kindly volunteered to be there for me at the funeral (Side note: I was pretty much wrong about Kelli. Looking back, the whole deal where we didn't talk was pretty stupid. I'm glad we were able to clear that up without too much consternation).

Most of all, it makes me think of Doug Goldberg. Doug is my brother in law Mark's best friend and his best man in St. Thomas. Given that those in St. Thomas essentially fell into two categories (a)current/soon to be members of the Henry family and b)Doug), it was quite understandable that Doug felt more than slightly out of place. Yet, it was Dearie more than anyone who treated Doug as if he was part of the family. By the end of the trip, he had so ingratiated himself into that part of my family that he was invited into the Hauser family portrait. From that moment on, Dearie always thought of Doug as her "Jewish grandson." Doug was often present for Christmas dinners afterwards, further lending creedence to this title. Though I did not personally field the phone call, it was apparently Doug who was among the most distraught at the news of Dearie's passing. Though Doug had only known Dearie for a few years and met her only on select occasions, her kindness and ability to make him feel welcome resonated with him in a way that made him feel like he had, in fact, lost his grandmother as well. This was, to one extent or another, the effect that Dearie had on everyone she met. No matter who you are, you remember meeting Dearie.

If this sounded disjointed or at all off, I refer back to my opening statement. It is hard to put what Dearie meant to me (or, indeed, to anyone she met) into specific words. She is what I like to think of as among the absolute best of humanity: a kind, gentle, loving, honest, principled, funny, intelligent, and overall wonderful human being that we can all look up to. If I were to have one wish in the world, it would be to become half the person Dearie was. If I could make half the impact on people's lives, experience half of the love that she shared with all her family and friends, be half as, well, Dearie-like as Dearie was, I will say it was a full and rewarding life. It would be an achievement of which anyone would be proud.

At her funeral, a rendition of "Danny Boy" (Dearie's favorite song) was sung, led at first by my dad and Marianne. As the song went on, more and more people joined in. Since Dearie hated fuss, she may have feigned some annoyance at the impromptu chorus. On the inside, though, we all knew she'd be smiling, happy to see everyone together. Most of us sang through tears of mourning, but the song was a final celebration of and farewell to someone who meant more than words can truly describe to those who knew her. We knew no better way to pay her one last tribute, one she so richly deserved.

To all who attended the viewing and funeral, to all who expressed sympathy, and to all of those who have offered their support, I offer you a most humble and appreciative thank you. This is indeed a sad week. The world has lost one of its truly great people. I don't know what will happen as the world continues to turn. I only know that it will be a little darker without one of the brightest lights in the lives of everyone she has touched.

Goodbye, Dearie. You will be missed.

In fond rememberance,
Anne Theresa "Nancy" Hauser
(1924-2005)

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September 5,2005

It's been a while since the last update (which was never completed, since after writing the first bit everything kind've mellowed out). I am now in DC and am into my wonderful apartment (incidentally, this commentary is a great place to catch up on what's going on in my life if you don't have a lot of time to talk (/shill)). The classes at GW seem interesting (except for statistics) and I think I should do well (except in statistics, which has a final project that seems eerily similar to my bastard psych paper that warranted it's own commentary not too long ago). The people I've met have been great, probably a product of the maturation process that has likely completed itself before arriving in graduate school. DC as a city is spectacular, with tons to do. I even got to a Phillies game at RFK stadium (that they lost...but whatever). Best of all, I found a great Eagles/Nittany Lions bar in Georgetown called Rhino. Now I won't miss a thing. Yup, DC is in a lot of ways a very, very good situation. The only thing that seems to be holding me back from having a truly wonderful time is...me.

I've known for a while that I have the ability to do a lot of different things. I've excelled in academics, music, sports (to certain degrees), and social situations at different points over the last few years. Yet, I've never really had my head screwed on straight and never put it all together. My academic skill left me for a year or so early in college. I haven't played the cello since freshman year at Penn State (nor hockey since high school). Now, my social skills that seemed so polished just a few months ago have reverted to the same old nothing that I had before.

As much as it may seem like I'm complaining, I'm not. It's a simple fact that I came to grips with a while ago: until I get focused and motivated, it's going to be an up and down ride. Though I figured that out a while ago, it's only been in DC that I've figured out why. There have been lots of things that I've attributed to all the failures in my life (no matter what they may be or to what degree; after all, everyone has things they've failed at) ranging from my sarcasm to my procrastination to my looks. All of those were just excuses though. It wasn't until I had a dream (and I know that sounds corny, but most of you probably won't care about that if you read this anyway) that I figured out the real reason.

I had just graduated from GW. The SPPPA, somehow, arranged for seats on a shuttle that would go into outer space, where the new graduates would do space walks and other interesting stuff. Best of all, it was fully paid for. The thing is, I'm not too fond of heights...and those engines make a lot of noise, which I hate...and it just didn't seem like a good idea. I started arguing with everyone who was trying to convince me to go, saying that it was a bad idea. I didn't really believe it though. Upon waking up and reflecting on that dream, I came to a realization that I didn't want to admit: I'm a coward.

Really, that's what this whole thing has been about. My head isn't screwed on straight because I allow my fear of failure...rejection...whatever to psyche me out. I'm not bad at talking to people. I've had great conversations with lots of people of different backgrounds and personalities. I'm just afraid I'll say something stupid and be ostracized. I'm not procrastinating because I think I work more efficiently at the deadline (this happens to be true, but if that were merely the case those papers last year would have been written), I'm afraid of starting and missing something because of it, or doing it poorly. I'm certainly able to participate in class, despite the fact my hand never goes up. No matter how good the good may be, I'm too afraid of the bad to do anything about it.

They always say admission is the first step towards recovery. If this is true, I have a long road to go, but at least I'm starting. I can't always be too nervous to go after my career, volunteer in class or call a number and ask a girl on a date. I'll never get anywhere in life until I can finally reap the benefits from what lays behind what I fear.

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November 6,2005

“Both sections had similar elements: staying true to what we hold in our hearts, the notion of falling just short, a large emotional investment, and the concept of hope. It hurts for Kevin because of the time and energy he put into trying to do things right, only to have them go wrong anyway. It hurts for me as a spectator, forced to watch another one of my rooting interests fall short again. The only cure for the hurt suffered is the same thing that caused it in the first place. It is the same thing that brings sports fans back, time and time again, to support their teams. It is the very thing that, during this or any time of year, gets people to roll the dice in an attempt to find a date. Simply, no matter what failures lie in the past, there is hope that next time will be different.”

I wrote this in February of this year, when the Eagles had lost the Super Bowl and when it looked like Kevin and Ada wouldn’t be getting together. Here we are, nine months later, and once again I find these words have painful significance. I felt as frustrated then, at what would be the beginning of their time together, as I do now at the end.

It’s true I knew ahead of time this was coming. Ada had informed me during my last trip to Penn State that she would be splitting off from Kevin. I had always said that, apart from the two of them, there was perhaps no one who had more of an emotional investment in their relationship than I did. Perhaps no one, aside from the two of them, was as sorry, shocked, or concerned about how it all went down as I was. Regardless of whether these musings are true or not, it hit me hard despite the fact I knew it was coming. Of course, there were bizarre circumstances that caught even me by surprise, but it’s not my place to really get into all that. No, this post is only meant to mark the end of an era.

There’s a new picture on the website, taken at Krissy and Dubbs’s party after the Purdue game. It shows the group in its entirety, and is something that I’ll always be thankful that I have. I insisted on that picture being taken because I “thought it would be hard” to get that group together again. The truth was thought had nothing to do with it. I already knew. I didn’t realize, of course, the degree to which I’d be right (at least in the short term). I’m glad I have that picture. I know I’ll never get too down anymore, because just one look at it will remind me of what I had. It’ll remind me of some of my best friends and the best times of my life.

I guess now, though, it’ll remind me most of them. It’ll remind me of when they met, of the time when Kevin and I went into Victoria’s Secret (in what had to be the closest thing to being a part of one of those “A horse walked into a bar” jokes I’ll ever be), finding flowers (and the Darkhorse trip afterwards), and all the times I saw them together and knew…just knew…how happy they were.

I’ve written my last eulogy, so let this instead be a toast. To the times that once were, that they may be here again soon. To the friends I have made, that you find happiness in all that you do. To those suffering through hard times, that you always remember the good times, that you may realize the bad times are only temporary, and that you have people who care. To Kevin and Ada (specifically): that you may always see me as friend and confidant and that you may stay true to what you know is right.

We all have times in our lives, for good or for bad, which push us in directions we may not want to go in. These situations are often confusing, due to the billion different directions in which we feel ourselves being pulled. In these times, my advice to you all is to stay true to yourself and what you feel is right. Block out the noise, the advice of those you don’t trust, and focus on what you need to do to ensure you have no regrets. Do this while respecting others, and you’ll get yourself through whatever dark times you may be facing.

I now give my final toast. To all who hope: may you continue to hope, for we are all entitled to our dreams. Just like nine months ago, I hold out hope for the lovable loser, for a star crossed sports city, and for a guy who remains, to this day, misunderstood. One day, I’ll be able to look back and laugh, knowing that I was in on all of this from the beginning.

Since I started with a quote, I’ll end with one as well. It’s one I will always believe, one that I will always hold in my heart until the day I die. It affirms the fact that life isn’t perfect, and it’s all the better for it. In times like this, I feel it’s the most appropriate thing I can say:

“The sweet is never as sweet without the sour.”

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November 21,2005

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While trying to sort through a very busy, turbulent, and confusing month, I remembered it was around Christmas. I always liked this time of year, from when I was a little kid (waiting for Santa to put presents under the tree) to now (when it means I get to see family and people I don’t get to see or talk to as often anymore). I’ve always associated it with happy times, egg nog, the feeling of satisfaction after seeing the house completely decorated for the first time, and, admittedly, cool stuff.

When I was little, the present I wanted most was a Nintendo. I was sucked into the hype (which was not helped by the fact that both of my best friends at the time – Marc D. and Joe) both had them) and thought it was just the coolest thing ever. For about six years or so, I asked for that every Christmas. Every year, I’d go to bed dreaming of Duck Hunt and Contra…every year I’d wake up disappointed. I look back and wonder why.

During that time span, instead of one piece of machinery, I got:

-A computer
- A table hockey game (think of an arcade bubble-style hockey game without the bubble)
- Loads of board games
- Action figures, including the more complex GI Joe stuff
- My first jersey (A white Eric Lindros jersey, back when he first came into the league)
- Tickets to a few sporting events (at least one hockey game and one basketball game come to mind)
…and, of course, the best present I’ve ever gotten – and one that will almost definitely never be matched – my dog.

Part of me views this as an example of how stupid I was then, but even at the time I do remember thinking in the back of my mind that I had some truly awesome stuff. My parents were always very smart people, and they knew that these things were more likely to give me enjoyment (and be used on a regular basis) than the Nintendo would have. Each of those were used on an almost daily basis (except for the dog, who of course was a 24/7 endeavor). They had an anti-video game stance for just that reason: either I wouldn’t use it often enough for it to be worthwhile or I’d use it too much to the detriment of everything else.

This point was driven home later when I actually got video game systems (first Game Gear, then Genesis, then Playstation). They probably didn’t get the use I envisioned when I first got them, and when they did it was at hours much past what would have then been considered my bed time.

I’d love to say I can look back and say how stupid I was, that I didn’t really appreciate what was in front of me. The fact is, though, I don’t think I’ve learned anything.

In junior high and much of high school, a girlfriend became my new Nintendo. No, I don’t mean I asked for one every Christmas (though kudos to you if that was your first reaction). It didn’t matter what else I had in front of me, there was always that part of me that thought things would be even better if I was going out with someone. Of course, without having actually gone on a date I had little concept of what that actually meant. Once Kelli came along, not only was it not everything I had hoped it would be (which, to be fair to her, wasn’t hard. I had such an idealized picture that had ANYTHING gone wrong it would have been one too many), but things actually started getting worse. Granted, the downturn had to do with many things and that wasn’t necessarily one of them, but I think it finally killed the ideal that I had held. I tried for a little while to get it back, but after the whole thing with Marie ended I figured it was time for a change of focus. Now, I’d like to think I’m more practical about it. I don’t want to find someone because it would make everything better, but because I think it would be fun and I haven’t experienced that in a while (a relationship, not fun).

Now, of course, it’s something else. I may have my flaws, but I think that the people who know me would say that, on balance, I’m a damn good person. Yet, despite the encouragement, despite even the helpful criticism which at least puts a name to the flaws I can work on, I still have this feeling of dissatisfaction. This time, it’s not over some machine or some girl. In fact, I’m not even sure what it’s over. I suppose it’s me, though at the same time I’m happy with who I am and what I’m about. I guess its dissatisfaction with my lack of perfection. I’d like to have everything, to be everything to everyone, but I know I can’t. Unlike the last two, this is something I won’t be able to find out for myself how wrong I am. No human being can attain perfection. It’s a foolish thing to even aspire to. All it’s doing now is forcing me to harp on my flaws, causing me to play mind games with myself at the worst possible time. When you’re trying to meet new people, to settle into a new school in a new locale, and even when trying to figure out if someone is going to be that next “certain someone,” there are enough things to worry about and enough obstacles to overcome. If I start with this shit too... well, lets just say the end result is the previous entry.

I don’t know how, but I have to figure out how to not to need to be perfect (hooray for awkward sentences!). Hopefully then I’ll figure out how to stop this cycle once and for all.

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