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Posts Tagged ‘story’

Palm trees swaying

Well, I’m back from Southeast Asia and I continue to put my life back in order. The transition from New York to California continues to be a difficult one. Car search. Job search. Girlfriend search (without a car). And no real computer. Just this ancient netbook I’m typing on that has “Leonardo waz here, 1480” scratched into the side. I left behind a great life on the East Coast. *sigh*

I’m a bit of a control freak. I always alwaysalways and sometimes like to be in control. And the fact that I have yet to establish myself here in California is making it all the more difficult to really enjoy myself. But I do feel that this, my 5 minutes of darkness, has allowed me to make finer psychological distinctions that will lead to a more brilliant life down the road.

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Waves breaking against a rocky shore

I once dated a girl whose emotions were as wild as the ocean.  They were turbulent, fickle, uncontrollable, unpredictable.  And I loved her for it… just not initially.

She was the kind of girl who showed up at your doorstep unannounced one night.  And the following day, she would unexpectedly cut you out of her life.  She broke up with me countless times for reasons I may never quite understand.  I loved her though, so I didn’t let her go so easily.  As long as my life ran smoothly, which it usually did, I found myself growing fond of her mercurial temperament.

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Face Life Head-On

white water rapids

When I was younger, I often ran away from hardship.  I went to my room and either got lost on my computer or I went straight to bed.  I played the waiting game, hoping my problems would disappear.  Either that, or I convinced myself that conditions would improve on their own.

And you know what?  Most of the time my problems would disappear and conditions did improve, without any effort on my part.  My mother would do my science projects for me.  My brother would fix my computer.  And my best friend would let me copy his homework.

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Google Superfoods

Cinnamon sticks

The last time I went to McDonald’s was about 4 years ago. I had a Big Mac, 10 chicken nuggets with BBQ dipping sauce, and a large order of fries. I don’t remember what my girlfriend got, but I had some of that too. How was it you ask?

I’ll be honest, it was delicious.

But almost immediately afterwards, I felt awful. I could taste a greasy residue in my mouth and the sweat beading up on my forehead felt like oil droplets. I walked out of the “restaurant” heavy and sluggish as if I were wearing 3 layers of clothing and snowboarding pants when I just had on a t-shirt and jeans. I felt absolutely disgusting for the rest of the night.

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Turkeys!

Thanksgiving, as celebrated in America, traces back to Plymouth colony in 1621. Without the help of the Native Americans, providing seeds to the colonists and teaching them how to fish, half of them would have starved to death. After a good harvest, a feast and thanksgiving was celebrated to honor their good fortune. Since then, it has become customary for U.S. presidents to issue a proclamation of thanksgiving for various things including our peace, our prosperity, and The Constitution. You can read them all here.

What all the proclamations have in common is that Thanksgiving is a time of gratitude. I’m all for ambition, drive, accomplishment, results, results, results, go go go. But a life without pause…

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