It’s now May and that marks the start of my fifth month without a job. To put that in perspective, I got my first job when I was 11 as a paperboy. Since then, I’ve only been unemployed one other time. It was for three months in 2009, one of the worst times in America to find a job. I worked through undergrad. I worked through grad school. I’ve always worked.
Now, I’m not completely without work. I do consulting. But it’s not a job. I don’t go into an office or lock myself to my desk for eight hours. I set up calls; I offer advice; I take care of what needs to be done for the client; then I invoice them. I’m not hurting like many Americans who’ve lost their jobs. As you read this, know that I know I’m still a little son of a bitch. Continue reading
Continuing my tradition of writing pretty much whenever I feel like it, I haven’t followed my last doom and gloom post since October of last year. Almost a year later. Since no one is reading this, it’s safe to say, no one is wondering if my dad is still alive. Well he is. In fact he’s in better shape than before. Which is what any rational person would want.
My dad surfing the day of my wedding.
My father is back in the hospital. He had bifemoral aortic bypass surgery three weeks ago. He spent one week inside recovering. The second he got to go home and I went to help out. I had two main responsibilities: keep his car keys away from him and make sure he ate. I did a bang up job on the first but I failed at getting him to eat. He refused to eat what I prepared or to drink Ensure or any of the “old people” drinks, as he seemed to think of them. He was rarely hungry. It’s a week later and he’s lost twenty pounds and isn’t healing like he should. His gut wrenches and the doctors don’t know what it is. Continue reading
I live in LA but I’m from Texas. I usually drop that little nugget right after I tell someone my name. Just to get it out there. I like to see the reactions of people from around here when I say it. Most people give me this sort of “oh, poor you” look. They joke about cowboy hats and boots. They ask about guns or if I’m really lucky, it’ll be someone who expounds on race, politics or religion in Texas. Basically everyone in California has an opinion on Texas and Texans and to tell you the truth, they’re all bullshit. Even the people that lived there before have no clue what they’re talking about.
Is this a man?
I’m going through a bit of a masculinity crisis. It’s very similar to an identity crisis and a mid-life crisis. Actually, it’s equal parts of both. I’ve reached a certain age now where I’ve become restless. I’ve started to examine my life in terms of accomplishments and defining moments. I’ve started to look at the future and I wander where it will take me.
For my wife, who is of course my biggest fan, please don’t read that sentence and assume that implies anything other than true happiness with our relationship. In fact, it’s probably the only thing that feels right. Continue reading