Pen and Ink

I love to cry at weddings.

"Tomorrow when you say "I do," I'll die.  I'm almost ashamed to tell you why...I love to cry at weddings, how I love to cry at weddings. I walk into a chapel and get happily hysterical. The ushers and attendants, the family dependents, I see them and I start to sniff. Have you an extra handkerchief?  And all through the service, while the bride and groom look nervous, tears of joy are streaming down my face.  I love to cry at weddings, anybody's wedding.  Any time, any where, any place."

"I Love to Cry at Weddings," from Sweet Charity, lyrics by Dorothy Fields.

This is a strange study of opposites. My opinions make no sense, but so be it.

Generally speaking, I eschew weddings. I just don't like them. All the frou-frou seems silly and ridiculous.  Those bridesmaids are never going to wear those dresses again, and what is it with the throwing of the bouquet anyway?  The money that some of these couples put out is just insane. And for what?  A 50% divorce rate?

Yet, whenever I find myself at a wedding, I want to cry.

This weekend Andy and I attended his niece's nuptials.  I started to choke up just seeing the groom walk his mother down the aisle. Thankfully I didn't really break down. (It was only my third official event with Andy's exceedingly large Cuban family, and as one of just two gringoes (the groom being the other), I want to fit in.)

The dichotomy of my thoughts and actions continues.

As a gay "community," we've been promoting for marriage rights for years. It's never been a big issue for me, as I think the strategy of marriage vs. some other legal structure wasn't necessarily the way to go. But it is what it is. 

Plus I've never had any desire to get married myself.  I don't need a government agency or religious institution to validate my relationship.

But on the other hand...

I'm getting married on May 21.

Go figure.

* * * * * 

Even though I don't like all the trappings of weddings, as the bride was walking down the aisle this past weekend, I thought, "If I was walking down the aisle like this, I'd want the wedding march from The Sound of Music playing.

* * * * * 

I tried to find a good YouTube clip of "I Love to Cry at Weddings" from the last revival of Charity, but no luck. But for your viewing enjoyment, watch this clip of Bebe Neuwirth singing "I'm a Brass Band" from Charity (she was in the 1980s revival of the show, incidentally).

 

I could never retire.

We have all heard people say, "Oh, I could never retire. I don't know what I would do with myself." How many times made that statement yourself?

It occurred to me this morning, while sitting at my kitchen counter with a bowl of Special K and the Times, that yes, I certainly could retire.  Glancing at the clock at precisely 8:20, I realized that if I was still had my former job, I would be at my desk right now (probably reading the Times, but still...).

But there I was, in my lounging pants and t-shirt, relishing a leisurely stroll through the morning's paper. I was actually take the time to read the coverage and analysis of last night's State of the Union Address. I could enjoy taking in all of Mark Bittman's final "Minimalist" column in the Dining section.

Of course, I am not retired, nor am I even remotely close to even be able to dream about what that must really be like.

But working for myself these past few months, I've gotten a glimpse of retirement life. There are days when I'm swamped with work. There are others that I fret over how and when this fledgling business will be stablized.

Regardless of the type of day, at least right now, I enjoy a bit of what retirement might be like.

I can take my dog for a walk at 12:30 in the afternoon.  

I can schedule a meeting with the amazing dean of the School of Education at a nearby university as part of some probono work I am doing.

I can even contemplate taking a 10 a.m. yoga class (as I was doing this morning until writing this blog post seemed more important (there's always the 6 p.m. class to consider)).

Working for myself is allowing me to think very differently about my life.

Previously, my life was compartmentalized: work, volunteer activities, house projects, socializing, and a few scraps of time to pursue leisurely interests.  

But now I can interweave many aspects of life.  Pro bono contributions (planning a conference for non-profit leaders) can enhance the business. I can read and think about things like civic engagement and find a way to weave them into ideas for my clients.  I can do laundry while writing a development plan for my community college client. 

It's true that I don't yet have as much business as I need, so I know the flow of day-to-day life will change. 

But if this is a hint of what retirement could be like, bring it!

Betwixt and between.

It's the second day of the new year and I'm thinking about one of my resolutions: a resolution about the future of this blog.

Last week, snowed in at my parents' house during the Blizzard of 2010, I thought about the blog and got all revved up to revamp and revive it.

Over the last couple of days, the pendulum has swung the other way and I put on my never-ended "to-do" list to contact TypePad and cancel my account.

But tonight, taking some time at the end of a restful day, I started reading a couple of blogs. Some new ones that I found, along with a couple of my favorites from my blog roll.

So now I'm still in a muddle.  "Well, maybe."

There are still things I find interesting and want to share. Yes, but I can do that on my Facebook page for all 347 of my friends. 

Sometimes, I want to do some lengthier writing, work that I want to share. The blog is useful for that.

"What if you make a goal of writing once a week?" I ask myself.

Hmmm...maybe.

The other conundrum is Facebook itself and it's relationship to this blog.

There are two issues. First, I only have about five or six readers, other than the spambots that keep posting comments to the years-old post "Chelsea Boy."  (I'm going to have to delete the blog post.)  I really don't have the time to build an audience. 

(There's so much going on in my life that I haven't written about: I could fill a month of blog posts with all that!)

The other issue is whether or not to connect the blog to Facebook. My FB friends list is a wide representation of my past and my present, my personal and my professional.  Do I want all those people to see what's in my mind?

At the moment, the pendulum is swinging slightly toward keeping the blog and linking to Facebook.

So, my dear readers (Steven, Alan, Bandit, Kevin, Tuna Girl, Tom -- you still with me???), what do you think I should do?

Mainely autumn.

For a number of years, I made an annual trip to Ogunquit, Maine, with a group of my Boston friends. We take over the Moon Over Maine guesthouse and just hang out for the weekend.

It started in 2001 when Mike and I were still together. For a couple of years, John and Cary went with me. Andy hasn't yet experienced this fun, relaxing weekend.

We didn't get to go last year as our Mediterranean cruise took priority. I was hoping to go this year, but with leaving my job and starting the new businesses, finances have me nervous. (That, and outrageous airfares to Boston.)

Regardless, my my mind travels to Ogunquit this mid-September weekend. Here are some photo reflections from 2007 and 2008.

And finally, my favorite shop:

    

A tear in her eye.

Yesterday morning at work we had a board meeting and retreat.  It was my last official meeting with the board of directors that I pretty much assembled.

As I look back at my years in this job that I'm now leaving, my biggest sense of accomplishment is the board. They had cancelled half of their meetings in the year prior to my arrival, due to lack of interest pretty much.  

When I took over, I built it up dramatically, and I have to say, it is a MAJOR group now.  I was able to get some boldface names in the business community.

Even though I resigned on Monday, we withheld telling the board so that they could hear it as a group. But on Thursday, I told one of the guys, with whom I was having a meeting.  And then I called one of the women.

This power player in the South Florida business community is one of the last people I recruited. We've know each other for a couple of years and are the same age.  We've developed a very nice working relationship, wrapped in warmth and playfulness.  (I believe playfulness is a key ingredient in success in life.)

So I called M before the board meeting, starting the conversation with, "I need you to act surprised tomorrow..."  She was surprised into silence when I told her over the phone that I had resigned.

During the meeting, as my board chair was announcing my departure and future plans, I couldn't look at people. When I did, J, another women with whom I'm working closely, looked at me and mouthed, "Your leaving????"  Said aloud, it would have come out as a shout.

And then, in the back of the room, was M.  I couldn't see her face directly, but two people reported that when my departure was being announced, she had a tear in eye.

Business relationships rarely elicit such responses, so I'm really touched. 

Pajamas.

Yesterday morning I made my usual stop at Dunkin' Donuts for a bagel and Diet Pepsi. Entering the store right in front of me was a nice looking guy.  In his pajamas. Slippers and all.

 

I stood behind him at the counter and he glanced back at me with a little smile that said, "Yeah, I'm in my pajamas."  Clearly he was getting a kick out of it.  I think he was probably gay too.

Gotta give him credit.  I rather enjoyed it; it's something I would considering.

Too bad I don't wear pajamas.

Customer service.

In setting up my new business, I'm trying to do what needs to be done without spending a lot of money. So I'm learning a lot.

I taught myself how to design a website using iWeb. Then I figured out how to buy stock photography. And then, ever impressed with myself, I bought a domain name and email addresses.  

Looking at the email invoice from GoDaddy.com, I realized that I had accidentally bought two email packages.  Mine is a small company, so I really don't need 10 email addresses.

Returning something from an internet company is not going to be easy, I told myself.

 GoDaddy had a 24/7 telephone support number readily posted on the site.  OK, good start.

I called the number on a Sunday afternoon, and only had to wait in queue for about four minutes for a customer service representative.

A woman named Desiree came on the line, verified that I was who I was purporting to be, and then asked how she could help.

Strange, I thought. I don't detect an Indian accent.

I explained to Desiree what I had done and she looked at my invoice and confirmed my mistake. 

"That's no problem," she said.  "I can credit you right now."

Wow!

While she was processing the refund, she inquired if I needed help activating my domain name.

She went on to help me step by step to set it up, make it link to my MobileMe account. And then we took care of the email addresses.

I was so taken aback and delighted with the service. She didn't even try to sell me anything else.

You Go Daddy!

New year, new start.

My dear friend Susan reminded me that it's now 5771, a new year on the Jewish calendar.

"It's a new year with a new start," she told me, as I relayed the details of my "resignation meeting" with my boss.

I'm only an honorary Jew, but I will take the new year's celebration nonetheless.

Today is sorta the first day of my new life, even though I have a few more weeks of work at the old job. To start off the new life, I had a wee-touch of insomnia. Not bad...I slept most of the night.  But I woke up around 5 a.m., which is highly unusual for me.

 

My dear dog, Dior, has a special sense about me. He can tell when I'm awake.  And boy, does he ever take advantage of it.

So out of bed I got at 5:30 at Dior's insistence.  As with every morning, I took him for a pee and a poop. But this morning, in the pre-dawn calmness of my neighborhood, I decided to treat him to a walk around the neighborhood.

I have to say, it was really nice enjoying the quiet darkness. Maybe there's something to this.

As we walked together, I thought about changes that I can make in my life now that I will be my own boss and won't have to adhere to anyone's schedule (other than whatever client demands I have to balance).

"What can I get done in early morning hours?" I pondered.

I'd already decided that I will start working out in the mornings with Andy, rather than my evening training sessions.  

I could also blog. What a novel concept!

By the way, it's 6:30 a.m. EDT.

We become.

What we think, we become.

-- Buddah

I flipped through a book on presentation design just now and a page with this quote jumped out at me. It's so appropriate for what's going on right now.

My life is about to change dramatically.

For the past year, I've been thinking a lot about the idea of entrepreneurship.  As I've written in the past, I have been intimately involved with the launch of a brand new culinary school at work. Details are proprietary, but let's just say there's nothing like it out there.  

I've been working with the school director, a chef who has owned restaurant and entertainment concepts, who is one of the most creative people I've met. We've become great "sparring partners," in his words.  We bandy ideas and concepts around for hours.  None of it is in my job description, mind you, but it's been so creative and fun.

And it's opened up my mind to entrepreneurship, and creating something for myself.

Last summer, I was offered a consulting gig for an organization on the west coast. The experience was fantastic and I received such amazing feedback from my client.  So for the past few months, I've been working with the same client on related projects.  I'm loving it.

So with the encouragement of friends, family and some consulting partners, I have launched my own non-profit consulting company.  And if that's not enough, I am working with a couple of business partners to develop another company that will provide a service to the non-profit community.

The dramatic change, though, is that I have decided to do all this full time.  I will be giving up a steady paycheck to pursue these dreams.

It's scary, of course.  But I'm a careful planner, so I think it will be alright.

Standing at the kitchen counter the other morning, Andy and I were talking with my sister, who is visiting, about what day to submit my resignation.  Andy, ever the cautious one, expressed concern about giving up a paycheck.

But my little sister, bless her, looked at me and said, "Everything you have ever touched in your entire life as turned to gold. You make people fall in love with you. You will be successful at this and you should just do it.

So yesterday, I resigned from my job.

I think I am a consultant, so I will become a consultant.

Some sort of bug.

It seems that whenever I commit myself to working out, I only get just so far before something happens to derail me.  A nasty head cold knocks me out, or back problems send me to bed.

Generally, it takes a few weeks. The momentum starts to build and I'm feeling good and then bam!

This time it took just 15 minutes.

I followed through on my pledge to hire a trainer.  Ernesto and I were 15 minutes into our first session and he was working my chest and shoulders.  And then I had to stop.  I thought I was going to pass out.

 

It's said that you should eat a little something before working out. I didn't do that out of respect for my dental hygienist, with whom I had an appointment right before my training session.  

I wasn't feeling 100 percent, to be honest. Upon arriving home from Panama, Andy and I both got sick with some sort of bug.  An intestinal thing. (That description should suffice, don't you think?).  One of our friends in Panama came down with the same thing.

But I was feeling fine enough by Tuesday to start with Ernesto.  Apparently not.

Things got worse as the week went by. Little appetite, some of the symptoms returning, a lack of energy, and way too much sleep.  By Friday, I finally broke down and went to the doctor.  After a lively conversation about poo-poo (my doctor has a funny sense of humor; "poo-poo" was her word, not mine), she put me on some antibiotics and a bland diet (bread, rice, pasta...yay!).  The whole conversation (sans poo-poo) was repeated with Andy on Saturday morning.

The antibiotics are taking their time kicking in. I've been sluggish all weekend.  After a couple of errands yesterday, Andy and I came home and cut the grass and some other minor yard work. That put us down for the rest of the day (the 93 degree blazing temps might have had a little to do with it as well). 

Today, I'm trying to get some project work done and rally for a dinner party this evening.  I need to get past this. Ernesto is waiting.