zoning

i'm in the zone at work this week. arguably working on five accounts right now. really two full-time and one temporarily. the other two are harder to explain. let's just say i am busy. after this week, i'll travel twice in two weeks. From Ohio to Chicago and Indianapolis, the midwest business tour for a total of three nights away from my family.

biz travel sucks for public relations. in fact, public relations made a list of top ten careers with most miles walked. somewhere beneath postal carriers we came in on the list. i blame business travel and trade shows. my big event is next week and the week after i attend a client's customer event.

biz trips used to be good excuses to drink. i was always careful to not go too crazy in front of a client. arguably i never got too crazy when i was drinking though. i usually waited until the evening of the first night on the road. typically i only am on the road for one or two nights. in addition to whatever social drinking i did with the client, i would also have a few brews delivered via roomservice for a nightcap. typically on the way back, the airport bar and flight attendants also provided some libation. even with our more politically correct times, there are still plenty of opportunities to drink in business...particularly while on the road.

i've travelled several times in the past 11 months and i've barely ever gotten the "liver pangs" where i longed for a drink. the only rough spots involve telling your client you do not drink and then why you do not drink.

sadly, i am in a business where i cannot proudly proclaim i am 11 months sober. they do not hear 11 months. they barely hear sober. the word merely triggers other thoughts and sounds. i guess that's why they call it alcoholics anonymous, eh? it's not like this would be something you could throw out there in ANY business situation.

all work and no play makes jack a dull boy. more to come...

taking responsibility

took my daughter to church and she was amazingly well-behaved. have been blowing it off due to house and was happy to get back. sermon talked about taking responsibility for your actions. i needed to hear it. honesty with myself is something i've been craving in my recovery as of late. this is a big part of being honest with myself and others i think.

after a standard weekend my daughter now has matching boo-boos on her knees and almost got a shiner. we were in a carpet store, browsing. she charges all around in carpet stores for some odd reason. once, while trying to get up repeatedly from the floor, she toppled over and was clocked by a store display. she was fine.

i watch daughter while wife gets the lowdown on costs, twists, stain resistance, traffic resistance and too many other specs. bleah.

have plenty more to say, but have a busy work week ahead. i am tired and want to go to bed.

hate update

daughter is all normal now. work is not the war zone i was expecting. october will be a bear, but it will all work out fine. yippie!

more on hate

hate ain't a word it's a great big nation. and here i am in its aftermath.

"if hate were people, i'd be china!" - city slickers.

when i work through things like i think i did below, that ALSO pisses me off. for some fucked up reason it feels like somehow i lost. by giving into reason and not acting out on my emotions, i am somehow weaker? dunno how to explain that bizarre admission. but, guess what? i hate it.

plain old pissed off

been awhile since this mary sunshine site got some vitriol from yours truly. i love this site, but i am all kinds of angry...frustrated...stressed and more. got plenty of all the negative emotions right now, coarsing through my body. it only took a few hours to get me here.

it all started at a new client meeting out of town. it went well. there is plenty we can do for them. after the drive back, i learn the client has issues with the lead i assigned to the account. the person assigned to it is talented, but his delivery at this meeting could have been better. and now i either have to take his spot or figure out who will. this pisses me off. selfishly, i did not want to run it. in his defense, i think he can serve them. i tried to explain this to the client, but to no avail. 9 a.m. tomorrow we reorganize the account with my CEO.

in the meantime, another new account is starting up. i was requested to be involved in the first meeting with this client as well...JUST ME. this bodes terribly for me. the odds of me NOT being involved with that account plummet by my presence in the meeting. by being the only person representing public relations, i'm fucked.

and did i mention i have a major event taking place in early october for my main client? that would be two weeks away. 2003 planning is also underway for this client right now.

arguably three accounts would not be a big deal—if they are the right mix of accounts. but having to lead three accounts that are all high-maintenance, time-consuming and demanding is bad.

psychologist would tell me to stop reacting to events that have not taken place. it does me little good. advertising is a dynamic business and there are any number of solutions to a problem as it applies to staffing. assuming i will be lead on three killer accounts is presumptious. she'd be right. but i hate how one off meeting for someone seals both our fates.

thanks to Web Monkey, i can merely throw a shitty list at you to detail other thoughts. bulleted lists are my friends. they eliminate the need to create tranistions. but consider this fair warning. there's plenty more "poor me time" to follow. click away now if you don't want to deal with it.

i hate the lack of respect public relations gets.
i hate how i am often unable to defend my career as effectively as i would like to.
i enjoy my career, but always wonder what else i might do for a living.

i hate it when my daughter cries. she was crying non-stop for long periods of time tonight and there was nothing i could do to soothe her. she scraped her knee pretty bad before i got home. this was her first "boo-boo" and she was freaked.

band-aid did not help matters. taking band-aid off did not help matters (we treated the cut to stave off infection). wife leaving for the evening did not help matters. all i could do was carry her around and try to distract her. videos would not work, sitting was not an option. singing did not cut it. outside helped for a few moments and the neighbor's dogs helped too. but not for long. crying was steady.

carrying around a 25 pound child for extended periods of time is tougher than you might think. especially when the scrape is on her knee and, since you removed the band-aid, you must be careful to not make contact with it. i pulled out all the stops and tried every trick in the book to distract her and comfort her. nothing worked until, finally, she relented from exhaustion and feel asleep on me...in my arms, facing me.

before that peaceful moment you are mad at yourself that you cannot help her, frustrated she will not stop crying—slammed by waves of churning, conflicting emotions you must ride out. i simply held her. i figured i could do nothing for her other than be there, so i tried to do that well.

she's been asleep for an hour now and i even managed to eat some dinner while writing this. work will somehow figure itself out tomorrow. and, no matter how it goes, there is nothing i can gain from analyzing it tonight.

the last two things i will hate for the evening is that i have to clean up (wife cooks...well. i clean...dinner dishes and i pick up after our daughter). and i hate that i resent my wife for not being here. bottom line is now i know how she feels when this shit goes down in the daytime and i am not here.

emotions are not facts i must act upon. especially when they conflict so violently. i hope by throwing them here i can ride out the rest of my day—sober and at peace.

"we all fall down!"

music is to a child like water is to a plant. we started playing tunes during lunch and dinner with our daughter. we also started eating fruit at the end of these meals...an Italian thing. the fruit is good for the body, music good for the soul.

soul, schmole...it is a nice change of pace and beats having the idiot box on. watching my daughter try to dance to the music while in her high chair is pretty cool. she likes what she hears. but I did have an "American Beauty" flashback at one point. she will ultimately grow out of our music and then, someday perhaps, back into it.

I've been making it a point to play with my daughter each night...not just weekends (when we typically spend more time together). she loves being chased, she loves when her Dad throws her up into the air and when her Dad flips her. she laughs and giggles and smiles. it's the best.

went to psychologist visit #3 of 12 (I was approved by my overpriced and underserving health care plan for 12 visits. then I guess I have to touch base with them again and reassure them I'm still fucked in the head and am not just going for the joy of sitting on this particular couch once a week for an hour).

we're organized now based on three discussions and will start getting constructive on how I might better deal with emotions. sounds easy enough, but when your primary reaction to emotions (good or bad) is drinking, you forget how to do this. I am happy that the first three sessions have sorted things out and confirmed some of my suspicions. it has also helped me realize some other things. but I am ready to begin working on the problems. left unchecked, I could surely fall off the wagon. you have to keep working on the problems or they will just come back.

watch the creature

today I read some posts from my fellow addicted bloggers that have simply blown me away. they provide me with examples of how to live my life. reading what has happened to them, and how well they've handled these situations, has been humbling. their posts help me more than they could possibly know.

more than anything, I realize I need more honesty in my life—particularly honesty with myself.

honesty has been easier since admitting to myself that I was an alcoholic. with the benefit of hindsight, I can now see all of the signs were right there before my eyes—from my behavior to actual drinking patterns and much more. the signs that were before me were red, flashing neon and screaming at me to admit my problem.

my freshman year in college, my Dad even sent me a note to warn me that I should be careful with alcohol. it said "watch the creature."

this was more than the usual parental concern. my Dad was an alcoholic and was sober for 20 years before dying from liver failure at age 58. my Dad knew I had it in my genes and was predisposed to be an alcoholic.

deep down, I knew it too. but I blew off reality. when I did not ignore the problem, I rationalized it or denied it. mostly, I just did not see it —I was too busy drinking. I was least honest about my problem with myself.

in two weeks, I'll have been sober for 11 months. since admitting my problem, I've gotten better about being honest, but I still find myself being lulled into less than realistic views on things. bottom line is I am still lying to myself. and whether they are white lies or purple ones they are bad.

my Dad told me to watch the creature. he felt the alcohol was a creature. well, I admit I am powerless to alcohol. as a result, it seems pretty powerful. but now that I am sober, I realize I am the creature. I am a work in progress that hopefully learns and grows a little more every day. but left unattended, bad things can happen.

wine

rather than moan about 09.11 and/or its exploitation...or update you on "house world" (things progress but nothing major yet)...or enthrall you with the latest work story (all is well)...I'm pleased to report I'll be making wine this Saturday.

huh? an alcoholic making wine? well, making ain't drinking. even if I wanted to, it won't become alcoholic until after it ferments. most importantly, this is something I have been wanting to participate in with my in-laws as long as I can remember. they make wine once a year and it is something I have wanted to photograph for several years.

my wife's parents are first-generation Italians...born and raised on the boot until coming over to America in their twenties. they owned a deli for years, and they still make their own sauce, pastas, bread, sausage, cannoli and WINE. note: they also have a supernatural ability to buy fruit that tastes like ambrosia, picked straight from the garden of Eden.

I remember the first family dinner I attended. A tall glass was set at my place and my father in-law proudly brought out a rather questionable looking bottle (he reuses old wine bottles and even green-glass drinking water bottles). It had no label on it and a twist cap. He offered me some of his home made wine and I agreed. He started pouring and, despite my pleas, filled the 12 oz glass. After finishing this glass of wine, I felt it. I was buzzed. We now refer to his wine as shot wine due to the higher level of alcohol. As far as other characteristics, it is always red, usually fruity and closest to a nice Chianti in comparison. A great homemade table wine with a kick.

I noted a few times I would love to help them make wine. Once a year around September they make as many as 4 full-sized barrels of wine (perhaps somewhere around 100 gallons), bottling enough for the year. Last year I finally got the call and it was short notice...the day they were making it. As a result I did not make it. This year I was tapped a few days in advance. In fact it happened tonight. We were at their house having dinner and they asked me to join them.

My father in-law took me out into the garage where he has already brought his press up from the basement. This will be used to crush the grapes. He also showed me a row of grape containers...the row is six containers long and stacked four containers high in the corner of the garage. We're looking at about 30 cases of grapes. I need to find out more specifics as far as what kind of grapes. I'll verify all of the facts here as well.

He brought up the barrels too and put them in the backyard. These wooden casks were originally used to hold whiskey. My father in-law purchased them years ago from a distillery for about $10 apiece. Based on the markings from the distillery, some of these barrels are more than 30 years old. Moving to the backyard I see the barrels have been turned upside down. The bottoms have been filled with water to test for leaks. And, even after being 30 years old and having been used for several years to make wine, the distinct scent of whiskey on this pleasant fall evening was quite odd. Luckily whiskey was never my hard liquor of choice.

Perhaps the barrels' past is one of the reasons why his wines have such a high alcohol content?

Saturday I will arrive around 8:30 in the morning for the following process: press the grapes, filling the barrels with the grapes and the juice. After that, they sit and ferment. No yeast is added. It seems too simple, and I will confirm or deny this shortly. However my father in-law assures me it is. So we just have to press 30 cases of grapes and we'll be done in no time. No, we will not be stomping grapes with our feet. However, my father in-law claims as a small child he did this with his cousins.

I'll be armed with my camera, plenty of film and a pad and pen for taking notes. This one of several talents my in-laws have that simply amaze me. And while I may never make wine myself, I want to preserve this in some fashion for "future generations." What they can do is very special and arguably not many individuals make wine. But more important to me is that the food and drink my in-laws make do more than make me fat and happy, they are a bonding tool.

Nearly every Sunday, all five of my in-laws daughters, their husbands and their children come over for dinner. Two dozen people gather and for a few hours eat, talk and hang out together. Not having grown up in a similarly close family situation, this has been an amazing event for me. Whether you know it or not, it brings you closer together. Sure you still complain about the typical in-law issues and the kids can grate on you or something else can get on your nerves, but for the most part everyone sits down together as a family and eats.

Having grown up with it, my wife and her sisters are used to it. They are also used to the tasty homemade Italian feast that is whipped up on a weekly basis for them in mass quantities. Editors note: the pasta is not usually homemade, cannoli is a rare treat, but there is still plenty of food including at least one form of meat and the fruit is served at the end of the meal. If I were on death row, my last meal would include my mother in-law's eggplant parmesan. It could probably consist of just that item and I'd be happy. Since they are all used to this event, not ONE of their daughters have learned how to make these dishes. From bread, sauce, pasta and sausage to wine, cannoli and eggplant parmesan...these recipes, these dishes and these traditions are all in the hands and heads of my mother in-law and my father in-law.

I tell my brother in-laws that this can be compared to a very fast train heading down the track. If and when something terrible happens, it will not be pretty. Much more than food will be lost. So I pester my wife to learn ONE of her mother's recipes (yep, eggplant parmesan). So far no luck. In addition to continuing to pester her, I am going to try and learn myself. I'm starting with the winemaking and hope to work my way up to pasta. I'll keep you posted.

exhibit B

A 9.11 musical sounds like something straight out of the Simpson's. But sadly, someone is debuting a musical about 9.11 on tomorrow's anniversary. Over exploiting? I'll let you decide.

proof

for those of you who think the post below is rough, I submit Exhibit A.

9.11 overkill

I'm willing to bet that I'm one of many that dreads the 9.11 anniversary. I lost no one that day. Plenty changed for me that day, but I was arguably pretty insulated as an individual. In reality, I was lucky in comparison. I offer many thoughts and prayers to those that have been impacted.

That said, there is another side to this whole thing that is rapidly becoming hard to stomach.

From people who clearly have no grasp as to what we really lost—their lives are probably as untouched as mine, and the people capitalizing on this by selling the latest in flag wear to the people that fly the flag, improperly I might add, because it's IN. The whole concept of 9.11 as a trend, fashion, market to sell to and other similar trappings and shock waves bug the fuck out of me. Worst of all: the mass media.

The Onion does a good job of summing up how I feel in a nice, satiric way. For example, I understand that many children will now grow up without fathers due to the tragedy. But how does the world benefit from rounding them all up on a tv special so Diane Sawyer can take a poignant look at their brave lives? How in the hell do the children and their mothers benefit? I can see the gathering being cathartic, but how does televising it help?

The First Lady is telling everyone to turn off their tv's, light a candle and read to their kids. For once I'm with the First Lady. She's telling everyone to do this so the children will not have to deal with the graphic images. I'm saying not to do it to avoid watching the media blackout as it focuses on nothing other than 9.11 for the entire day. Think they have enough material to cover it tastefully? Surely a tragedy of such magnitude merits the time to make a thoughtful tribute to the heros and fallen of the day? If so, why in the hell did Entertainment Tonight do a story on an actress from Everybody Loves Raymond visiting Ground Zero? And it's only Monday. Oy.

Certainly all of the programming will not be bogus. A tribute is in order. Nothing would make me happier than the need for me to eat the words above. But I fear for what we will be confronted with for 24 hours on Wednesday.

snapshot

another week of work is over. oy. lotsa change went down this week. change is good in my book. but there are many more that excel at finding the bad in everything...no matter how management spins it.

daughter has a fever...too high for it to be from the excessive teething she's experiencing right now. it's a virus. poor kid can just sit there and has no clue how to tell us what's going on...she does not know. I'm on watch now as she wakes up every half hour or so it seems. and she's a hot potato at 102 degrees. if only it were january.

painted at my inlaws on sunday. painted at our house last night and painted at inlaws again tonight. would prefer to be painting the house we'll probably still wind up buying. so my arms are weak right now as I realize tomorrow we'll clean the place again in preparation for sunday's open house. it's only been a week, but it feels like time is passing more sloooooooooooooooly than it is. someone just needs to fucking buy our house. it'll happen (he knocks wood as he crosses himself...relying on luck, superstition and religion in a bizarre combination). didja see how freakin' low interest rates are?

analyze this. missed my second appointment with my psychologist due to the job. cannot get back in to see her until a week from monday. sweet crap! the pendelous cycle my life seemingly knows and loves continues in the meantime as I hold tightly onto the safety bar. if work is not fever pitch, house world consumes me. as a result I have no time to relax, spend time with family, or just be selfish and do nothing. MEMEME stuff. this blog'll have to do in the meantime. but I've been busy enough there's been little content here too. wah. boo. hoo. sniff.

they're good problems to have for the most part. but I'm jonesing for some more psychologist time. we hit it off I and really enjoyed the one and only session.

short week

labor day is in its final hours as the last gasp of summer exhales.

sweet crap. what did I just type up there? it is so bad, I am punishing myself (in addition to YOU) and leaving it up there.

had a great long weekend. wound up running twice. it feels good and you sweat yer ass off. so I must be keeping the weight off. now I want to actually start training for the annual Turkey Trot. I think this will be my eigth or ninth year running it. It's a Thanksgiving Day 10-K (6.2 mile) race. Each year my time got longer and longer. Last year, I broke that trend and actually reached my third fastest time. this firmly and finally got me back into running. So this year I want to train for the race and see what happens.

The short week at work will be good and bad. I have plenty to do for my event in October. So I could use the extra day. But I also have plenty of house stuff going on right now so I guess it is six of one, half dozen the other.

Our house is now on the market and we need to sell, Sell, SELL! in order to get into our new digs. It takes an average of 25 days to sell a house in my area or town. It will seem like 25 years. This is the first time we've had to sell one to get into one. eek! stress is one thing, but you also feel like you are living in some sort of museum limbo when your house is on the market. you want to get out of the house and into your new house. you have to live there and keep it clean so you can show it at a moment's notice. so you are not living comfortably as you might usually. but it will be worth it I suspect.

wednesday I am looking forward to. I'll have my second meeting with my therapist. one more session where I tell all. then comes the working sessions. working on all of this crap at once is no small task, but it feels good to be making progress. for years when I was drinking I really was not growing emotionally. I never really could tell myself who I was. doing things like this help me answer that question...finally.