The Next Question

How Quickly Will I Falter? (Yes, I put that in all caps.)

Right now, I'm fighting frustration at skype and ichat, both of whom - on this fancy new computer - are telling me they don't know who I am.

Maybe it's a sign of being in the year I turn 40? The continuing chasm between me and my effectiveness in the digital world? (Irony alert: I question tech-savviness via blog. Or is that even ironic anymore? Are blogs "so" 2010?)

The faltering, however, is more due to my lack of enthusiasm for what, by all measures is a lovely day. A friend in town for brunch. A movie with a few other friends later this afternoon. And yet somehow those minor events read to me as obstructions from what I "should" do: get to the gym, do a little work reading, finish the book I'm reading, see if I can't bring one of my fallow characters back to life. (I'm also sitting here fighting with free video-messaging software because I've got an 8a.m. chat-date with a buddy in London. OK, techies - it's not all bad.)

So that's the question for the day: Here, on January 2nd, can I call it failure already, when it's only 8a.m.? Or do I need to drop the whiny pretenses, and just get up and go about my day?

What's Next? Why Now?

I've been reading a friend's blog of late.

She writes consistently, every single day, but freely acknowledges the importance of marking things like holidays, turns of season, and a new year. So while I cringe a bit at re-launching this blog on January 1st (the same day I quit soda - again, as I have almost every year in the past decade) I also realize that I don't have to let anything get in my way. Thanks, Christa, for that.

I also realized, just around the stroke of midnight, that while I don't turn 40 until late June, this is the year I turn 40. And that it's very important to me to feel as if I'm creating a life that will give me another 40 years as rewarding as the 39 years, 6 months and 1 day I've had so far.

So this blog takes another turn. The alphabet prompts and "Danny Gets Fat" remain on hiatus, but I'm hoping to take a new look at things, here, starting today.

What will it mean to be 40? Who do I expect to be at 40, and in the hopefully many years beyond? What stories does a 40-year-old need to write?

The year I turned thirty, I started the year lost. I'd been left by a man I loved; I'd gained weight I didn't want; I'd recently taken a job I knew was a mistake. In short, I felt trapped by the life I'd built. At 29, I didn't trust the track I was on.

I also realized, in January of that year, that I could change things. That I could upend the "rules" and expectations of my life, and do something new. I did some great things that year, all of which helped me get where I am today.

So, what great things will I do this year? I know we will run a 10-miler, and intend to run a half-marathon. (The we is Matt and I. He is not something I want to change.) I intend to make more of my free time and to be more accepting of times that seem out of my control. I need to be a more engaged brother to a harried sister, and a more helpful son to two sets of parents who are quite quickly growing old. Finally, and this blog should be a central part of it: I need to write.

In retrospect, I did a lot of writing last year, putting down tens of thousands of words on 3 new novel ideas. As of today, none of them shout to me that they are "the story," but I do believe "the story" is there. Perhaps, I should say "the next story" instead. Perhaps that should be the new title of this blog: The Next Story. The Next Forty Years.

Here's to the next half of my life. Cheers.

Its Been A While

Since I've written. I think I gave up a little bit, back in April, when I was departing for a 2-week international work trip, attempting to hire a new writer at my job, and (frankly) just feeling overwhelmed.

I had intended to post a notice announcing a break - a long break or a short break I didn't know -but failed to even deliver that.

So let this announce a break. I'm on a break. Hopefully (given that I enjoyed reading a bit about Danny just now.....) I'll be back sooner than I think.

Y8: Yowl (there is no W)

From V8:
The next morning he woke ravenous, the sugary sludge in his mouth a tease for what was to come. And on his second shift, he turned up the volume again.

Danny tore through the restaurant, racing past his trainer and showering every guest with smiles and jokes and a hand run down the back. His eyes felt glittery, like diamonds. His heart and stomach raced. The coffees (three sugars) and Cokes (free refills!) powered him to a sick degree - when he bumped another trainee and was told to "chill out," he yowled like a junkyard cat over a tossed bone.

V8: Volume

From U8:
Danny hadn't been so furiously focused in a long time. He thought about nothing other than food, food, food. If another thought crept in, he found something salty or sugary to push it down.

The next morning, he woke ravenous, the sugary sludge in his mouth a tease for what was to come. And on his second shift, he turned up the volume again.

U8: Universalist or "another word for omnivore"?

From T8:

On Danny's first day, he threw a food-tantrum of epic proportions, snatching french fries off diner's plates as he ran them out to their tables, downing hundreds of free Cokes and breadsticks, and -- at the end of his shift -- making two 'mistakes' in his ordering so he could scarf an Oreo cheesecake and a cookie dough cheesecake in the parking lot when he finished his shift that night.

The entire day felt flushed and feverish. He knocked back Cokes, coffees and juices like a Unitarian Universalist samples different strains of religious belief. His trainer, a girl named Mindy with chubby elbows and one half-lazy eye, hovered near him like a terrified confessor.

Danny hadn't been so furiously focused in a long time. He thought about nothing other than food, food, food. If another thought crept in, he found something salty or sugary to push it down.

T8: Tantrum

From S8:
The Cheesecake Factory would be safe, he figured. Miriam, he knew, despised the place.

***

On Danny's first day, he threw a food-tantrum of epic proportions, snatching french fries off diner's plates as he ran them out to their tables, downing hundreds of free Cokes and breadsticks, and -- at the end of his shift -- making two 'mistakes' in his ordering so he could scarf an Oreo cheesecake and a cookie dough cheesecake in the parking lot when he finished his shift that night.