I went back to bloggin a little at my old site. . . because bloggin about being alone starts to suck after a while. Ha. I thought I found a niche there, but...back to being a generalist I go...

Whatchu Lookin At?

Before I flush these loser thoughts out of my head with a rigorous meditation, I'd like to consider the following for just a little while longer: What the hell was She staring at so hard? ...sitting three seats down the conference table from me...with other blabbering blabber heads at both ends of the table droning and driving everybody into their own happy places or sad places or wherever...maybe a few of us were actually paying attention to what was being said. I was, actually. I was paying attention...until I noticed Her staring at me. Was she even staring at me? Sometimes, a spacey person's stare will fall so heavy, they don't even know what they're staring at or even that they are staring. They just stare. No reason. Was that the reason? Was she even staring at me? Or past me? Or directly at me? Into me? I am pretty sure she was staring at me. She was. No doubt. But why? And she didn't break off the stare when I looked back either. Weird. Had she fallen asleep with her eyes open? If so, what was she dreaming? Her face had settled into a drowsy, cocked obtuse configuration, the only thing supporting the whole mug was that bottom lip kind of curled up with some kind of cognition somewhere deep in there. How do you just stare at a person like that?

Stare at the freak!

Stare at the weak link on the team!

Stare at the guy around whom...you...repeatedly mention in passing...that your EX has your daughter tonight...and that you're not quite sure how you'll fill your evening...other than being logged onto your work Skype account...endlessly going over text, images and layout on a site that people just barely care about blah blah blah with one other person pretty steadily logged onto his work Skype account for a while there...noticing that you spelled 'Thursday' wrong in your Skype status...

One night at a department happy hour, people were taking turns talking about how much home life they were missing out on because of all the long hours. I mentioned the fact that I didn't really have anything better to do. You said yeah, you too, and that you and I (each, separately in our own little worlds, I guess, or maybe not) should both do something about that. Whatever. Maybe. Maybe not.

Quit picking on me. You don't know how hard it is to keep the data flowing from forms to tables through the wizards triggering the messages and the fueling the B.I....all -- while trying to look nice too.

And I'll try to remember to forget something else too...but I'll keep the wisdom from it - or I'll decide which cases to ditch it in: When somebody mentions the fact that they sure could use a shoulder rub (again, at that same dreadful table - different day, you being the one mentioning it -- mentioning it to nobody in particular -- I guess -- me being seated directly across from you that time), yes, when somebody mentions the fact that they sure could use a shoulder rub, it doesn't necessarily mean that they want one from you (me).

Extended Interview: Eric Klinenberg's 'Going Solo'

I'm a bit of a social science buff. I heard an interview with the author of Going Solo, Eric Klinenberg, on NPR, on my car radio, and I went home and ordered the book right away. The book is about people who live alone.

In 1950, only 22 percent of American adults were single. Today, more than 50 percent of American adults are single, and 31 million - roughly one out of every seven adults - live alone.

He's saying that this is "the biggest demographic shift since the baby boom." This is definitely not an American-only phenomenon, and it is not as stigmatized as it used to be. In the interview on NPR, he was saying that people who live on their own often have more engaged social lives...than say...somebody trapped in a marriage and isolated from everybody except their mate and/or their kids. People are adjusting to living this way. They prefer it.

Klinenberg uses the term 'lonester' which is not an exact equivalent to how I user the term 'loner' though. His lonesters seem a lot more engaged than my loners.

A couple years ago I read Bowling Alone, by Robert Putnam.

He pointed to the decline in participation in all kinds of clubs, organizations, churches and so on. This book was dense with statistics about the erosion of "social capital" - how over the last fifty, sixty, seventy years, people were dropping out or not joining at all. He had a pessimistic view about us loners and the fate of us loners. We're sicker, sadder, crazier, and less helpful (I guess) than people who go to church and glee club and bowling league events.

Next I would like to read some hardcore social science wisdom focused at online community - online life. Or, I guess I could read all about it online. I did read something from which I remember a salient factoid...I don't remember where I read it, but: It said that people who are already loners really benefit from online interactions, they are only helped by it. But with people who go from being super social - - in the physical, real world offline - - to internet only type human interaction - - it kind of screws them up. Who knows....

What do you think?

forgetfulness

It's getting harder and harder to stay mad at those grouches at work...especially given how funny they are. I.T. people. They're snappin at you or talking over you one minute, and then they're forcing beer and food down your throat the next. I'm starting to understand them a bit better...how intense they are...how intense the whole ballgame is...how ambitious they are, We're gonna change the culture of this whole company, maaaaan!

They're very intense. And they want you to know more about how you should handle your data. They want you to succeed. They already know. They love you, they just don't want you buzzin their phones.

I hope I can chose my own adventure in there...design my own role. I'm psyched about B.I....data warehousing...the business of business. Data, normalized and then denormalized again for all your querying fantasies.

I'm new, so they get mad at me a lot. They're patient to a degree, but they really want to whip the stupid out of me...but my hide is rough and thick (and raw).

Weekend Human Contact Update

So far this weekend, the only humans I have spoken to in person have been my neighbor, some guy at Starbucks and various cashiers. I am going to make the following note to self, a life tip, a rule: No More Cashier Crushes. They are paid to be nice to everybody - - it’s not the case that they are being extra nice to me and me alone because they want to …ahem whatever. Cashier crushes have never worked out. Except once. Once when I was in high school, I flirted with a lady working at a toy store, and we went out on a few dates.

Why was I in the toy store? Because I saw her in there when I was walking by.

I have one current cashier crush that is worth mention. She is the manager at the CVS drugstore down the street where I sometimes pay way too much for cigarettes (I can get them at the Racetrack gas station much cheaper). But. The nice lady at CVS…she is so nice to me. But, she’s a runner. She runs half-marathons. Very fit and health conscious. My purchases of cigarettes and my chatty ways and my false assurances that I am about to quit smoking are not impressing to her at all. It’s a paradox. I have to keep buying cigarettes there in order to ‘run into her’ but my main point every time I talk to her is that I am about to quit. I can see the weariness in her face lately when I go in there. I'll go be sensible about my cigarette purchases (even though she gave me a discount card without making me fill out the application...and when I lost that one - she gave me another) Cashier crushes are pathetic (and possibly creepy. And kind of cruel: those people gotta work there, they can‘t escape the flirting and badgering). I’m done with it...even if the cashier calls me ‘honey’ -like the super cute and tatooed cashier at the Walgreens drugstore near work.

It’s clear that my instances of human contact, normal human contact, are far too few.

What's Your Scene?

A friend mentioned the drum circle tonight. I thought we were both done with that scene. Whenever it is drum circle night, however, inevitably, one of us mentions it. What if we go? Maybe it'll be cool. Maybe.

I have met interesting people at drum circles. That's where I met the above mentioned friend (one of the two friends that I currently have, ha, aside from work friends...but that's different and highly conditional...). I started going to drum circles here in Florida about a year ago. When I lived in DC, I used to walk by them a lot and wonder what they were all about. It didn't look like my kind of thing, drum circles...I was too busy looking for a pick-up soccer game or a bar -- or a bar with a poetry reading/spoken word type thing. Or an indie rock show. Or a pool table. Or a bookstore. Or: I was going to meet my girlfriend (who is now my ex-wife).

But. Now I'm in Florida. Single. Bored...when I'm not working that is...bored. I was going to drum circles regularly, like I say, last year...I'm still not sure if it's my thing...I started to doubt it though. I'm still trying to figure out what my thing is, I guess. My latest thing, I mean. I have to face the fact that I'm a khaki clad, short hair, half ass i.t. dude who eats meat and smokes cigarettes. I mean: I do drive a Corolla and listen to NPR (whatever that means)...I'm into Buddhist writings and Vedanta (at least I think it's Vedanta...or at least...that's what some people call it). I don't know. I'm not religious, but I kind of piece together bits and pieces of various religions...as a hobby. That kind of identifies me...lack of a concrete identity, just a hodge podge of this and that. I'm a little sporty, a little drunky, a tiny bit hippie, a tiny bit techie (that's my job anyway). Most of the clothes I have - people bought them for me for Christmas or my birthday - - because they thought it was something that I would wear -which happened to come true. I did wear it. It's what I wear. I buy at thrift stores too though see. Rambling here. But that's what blogs are for, right? How did I get on this subject -or this hodge podge of subjects? Oh yeah, I was talking about drum circles, and drum circle people. Some of them seem to be real deal gone granola tye dye twenty-first century hippies. Some of them are burning man types. Some of them are elderly folks lookin for exercise and community. Some of them are college stoner kids. One, two or a few of them look like scary karate champ types with big guns (muscular arms I mean) who look like they'd pulverize you if you spilled their herbal tea.

I haven't even defined for you (if you're still reading) what a drum circle is. But surely you must know already. So I won't. Google it if you want. Or go ask a social anthropologist. Or better yet, check your local listings and just show up at one.

So, what's my scene? I know some scenes I used to be into...scenes that I should probably get back into: Poetry readings were my thing for five or six years in DC. There was a whole gang of regulars I knew at DC poetry readings. Get drunk and grab the mic and read your scribblings to the people. Pick-up soccer, for a long-ass time, was my thing -- but I have since picked smoking back up. Cough. Now? I don't know.

So tell me. What's your scene?

Social Life = Mission Impossible

Circumstances are preventing me from establishing meaningful human contact. These circumstances are largely work related. I thought things at work would slow down this week, but it's still crazy. There are a lot of problems still to fix. I worked until midnight last night and until nine tonight. Work is taking up most of my time.

I'm still new at this i.t. stuff. I find it hard to be friends with my coworkers, because when things go wrong with these hard tasks they throw at me...it's just...not friendly times. You get to feelin foolish and inadequate. Most of these people have been doing i.t. for years...they are a different species from another universe.

It's hard to be friends with the people at work, and I can't take much time outside of work to have a life. As I type this, I feel like I should be doing some work. Work work work. I want a brain-dead job like I used to have. But. I'd probably complain about that too...I'm so under-utilized...boo hoo...and I got no money to go out and do stuff with people...haha.

I hope I can get my brains in order and keep a good attitude and win some people over. Soon!