Worth Keeping

   There's only one resolution ever worth keeping, New Year's or otherwise.  It's the resolution to be authentic to yourself.  Temet nosce, in the non-traditional Latin of The Matrix.  "Know thyself".

    Get to know who you really are.  Decide who you want to be and go be it.  Embrace the persons, places, and things that will lead you there; and rid yourself of the persons, places, and things that no longer serve you.  A simple formula, even if only the tinest minority of the population actually goes through with it. 

   Every year that passes by represents, in the personal history of somebody somewhere, a time for taking out the trash and cleaning house.  The places and things are easy enough, but when it comes to the persons, this is where most of these individuals in transition get hung up on the whole process.  After all, nobody sets out to be an asshole, even when the people in question are really holding you back, intentionally or not. 

  This is where the inauthenticity kicks in.  You get used to appeasing those who would put up a fight when you take risks, people who quietly judge and dismiss you, who are only tied to you through some shared history and with whom you create nothing new or valuable.  Maybe you're conflict averse, afraid to get into a dust-up with those closest to you, for fear of losing them, even though you're legitimately pissed with decisions they've made. Because certain individuals haven't acted in a way that demonstrates friendship and loyalty to you. Maybe you've just made appeasement a habit.

  In any relationship, even those with places and things, there's a point where you just get sick of self-censorship for the sake of being sociable and appearing upbeat, a good employee or happy-go-lucky buddy, where you're tired of playing Chamberlain to the unintentional aggressors around you in the false hope of a just peace. When you're just going to do what you want.  Fuck the world. 

  Yes, in case you haven't already figured it out, I'm starting the last day of 2010 in something of a foul mood.  But as always, this is mostly just me taking out the trash in the best way I know how: the written word.  And I may as well vent it out before I party down tonight.

   One of my mentors once pointed out the importance of noticing the symbolism of your outer life.  Handing in the Form N9 the other day to my landlord, I took a moment to appreciate the number of my apartment building on my street: 360.  A full turnaround, where you end by returning to the beginning.  I prefer to think of life's cycles as an upward spiral: you eventually come back to where you started, but at least one level higher up in three dimensional space.  Life cycles involve continuous growth, though at each stage of that cycle, you shed the dead cells and let them fall away. 

    Michael pointed out to me the other day that in at least several entries now, I've said some variation of the phrase "I could give a damn what people think".  Of course, that sends the exact opposite message, especially when you repeat it across several entries.  And the truth is, up until this point, for much of 2010, I have given my power away to others.  I have cared what other people think of me, too much so.  Of everything I've learned about myself in 2010, I believe this is the quintessential root cause of my own self-created obstacles.  I'm grateful to Michael for pointing this out, obviously.

  But you know, of the plethora of concepts I've been meditating on over this holiday break, it's that true family, blood relations or not, will give their input and advice, warn you about potential injury, and otherwise be completely free to disagree with you while not sacrificing your relationships in the process.

  They'll see you experience major traumas like betrayal and shock and not lose respect for you if your reaction to all of it doesn't meet their expectation of what's "appropriate". They'll come around and support decisions that you've made even if they advised against them during your deliberations.  They'll walk their talk about loyalty and friendship and rectitude and not equivocate to suit their thinly concealed personal agendas.  They'll have your back, even if they don't understand you.  And they'll push you to better yourself, in a way that demonstrates high compassion.

  But if you don't test your relationships when you have to, when the occasion calls for you to be authentic to yourself even when it's inconvenient, awkward, or downright offensive to your greater family, you're betraying yourself.  And that's the highest and most damaging betrayal that exists. 

 That betrayal then affects everything you do, from the career paths you take to the friendships you keep to the romantic relationships you find yourself in.  Then you get stuck in vicious cycles of your own creation that hold you back, making the same mistakes and repeating the same patterns over and over again, until years pass by and your hair goes gray and you wonder why, for all of your smarts and ambition, you were never able to figure it out. You become, as the movie line goes, "an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone." 

  In 2011, resolve to be loyal to yourself.  To get into a dust-up when a dust-up is called for, if it means that you express yourself authentically.  To give yourself permission to be intense or angry or sad or afraid if that's how you feel at the moment. To stop apologizing in advance to those who care about you for actions and decisions you know are right for you.  To surround yourself with persons, places, and things that are aligned with your own vibrations and allow, with gratitude, everything that isn't going your way to bow out of your experience and fall away naturally.

  In 2011, resolve to put into action all of the things you've thought about doing for so long, to break out of the patterns that society expects of your and actually build an infrastructure for the ambitions everyone else says are impossible.  To give legs to your fondest dreams, that you may end next year in a place far beyond the mundane expectations of what we think life actually is.

  In 2011, resolve to be authentic, inside and out.  It's the only resolution worth keeping, and probably the hardest to keep.

  Personally, I resolve to begin fulfilling these resolutions one day early.

  And how about that?.....I feel better already.

Splashdown

  Everyone belongs to a statistical club.

  Of course, the statistic is never the full measure of a person - I still consider most math and numbers part of the Axis of Evil - but if I were a statistician, I'd almost like to think a person's numbers is like a membership in one exclusive club or another.  Sorta like the Yacht Club. Or the Stonecutters.

  For instance, I'm part of the "Young Author" club, very exclusive, as only one in ten people will ever write a book in their lives, let alone two.  I'm part of the "Divorced by 30" club, a little more populous, as four in ten first marriages will end in divorce in Canada.  You can also throw me in for the Canadians of Trinidadian and Tobagonian ancestry, 50,000 people and counting, representing 0.15 of the Canadian population.  Of that, I'm one of only two authors in this group - Neil Bissoondath being the other - and may in fact be the next Ian Hanomansing if my acting and TV work progresses well. 

  And, within a few months, I'll be joining another growing club, one which includes 41% of the population aged 18 to 36 in its membership: the Boomerang Club. 

   Friends, Romans, Countrymen...I am moving home.

   (And yes, I'm aware I didn't provide accurate citation format for those numbers.  Citations are for Democrats.)
  
   This is a tough decision, but it's a necessary next step to accomplish some of my bigger life goals. 

   Normally, this is the point that I spend a ton of time and wordspace justifying my decision.  Strangely, I could give a crap what people think about this today.  My one year lease is up at the end of February, and while I could leave it alone and go "month to month" on my apartment, there is a window of opportunity to walk away.  And walking away is what I'm going to do.

   I've been living away from home for a decade now.  I moved out to live on residence in 2000, moving back home for the summer of 2001 only to head back out to my apartment with my ex for our third year at McMaster.  I've been away from home ever since. And, of course, for the past year, I've been living completely on my own. 

   It was all time well spent, and with a few tiny exceptions, I have no regrets about my independent living.  At this point in my personal development, it's hard to go back and say it was for nothing.  It all served a purpose, and just like other parts of life that have fulfilled what they were meant to fulfill, it's time to let it go....

  Okay, I can see this won't get much further than flowery New Age affirmations without some more concrete explanations.  And there are two: I need more spending cash now on things other than renting a place where I spend most of my time sleeping; and freeing up my apartment enables me to not feel like I'm held hostage by my current day job.  Now to explain the explanations.

   The advantages are clear: more money means debts paid, savings boosted, vacations - the type of travel I spent all my twenties fantasizing about but never actually got to do - and more of the material "stuff" that I've gone too long without. 

   Moving home with the 'rents and my sisters isn't a permanent thing. Frankly, our egos are all too big and our lifestyles too different for that to be sustainable for too long. It will also involve some commuting to work for a while. The disadvantages are clear. But whether I go home for four months and return to a cheaper rent, or whether I stay there a year, I'm still going to have to take this first step regardless. This simply happens to be the time that the opportunity has presented itself.

   Then there's the matter of my work anxiety.

 I suppose this is mostly my fault.  After all, I've been trying to find my niche in the economy for the past five years, ever since I got my first full time job.  Each time, I found something to complain about, and in two such cases, it was enough for me to leave the position altogether.  However, just as the Boy Who Cried Wolf learned to his regret, I'm now being serious when I tell you that this position is starting to undermine my self-confidence.  I simply am not a "fit" where I am, and everyone senses it. It really is only a matter of time before my bosses turn their full attention to replacing me.  The wolf is gonna get me sooner or later. Serious this time.

  Moving home provides immunity against my fear of losing everything in the event that they go for the "sooner" option. It gives me flexibility and a sense of freedom that I'm not risking everything by speaking up and speaking out. It will remove the feeling that I must stay put in a job, give me the feeling of freedom to pursue other opportunities.  There's nothing worse than feeling trapped.

   Moving home also lets me interact with more people in my day-to-day who aren't work colleagues.  Much of the time, the only people I interact with are the ones who are busting my butt.  I get chewed up, spat out, and made to feel like an idiot all day, and then I go home to an empty apartment, stressed out with no one to talk to.  Hanging out with friends helps, but it's not enough.

   My family, for our differences, is my tribe, my community.  I can at least go home and interact with a group of people who I know love me unconditionally, who believe in me, who appreciate my abilities, and who have much the same living conditions I do: very clean, no big parties, no drugs or alcohol floating around, no debauchery.  Some guys can feel at home in a party house: I'm not one of them. 

   And yes, moving home gives me the freedom to quit, if it comes to it, and still have a place to sleep. Some of my former in-laws and friends somehow managed to take the two instances in my otherwise uninterrupted 14 year work history where I quit jobs that were making me unhappy and declared me "unable to hold a job".  As such, I've had an axe to grind in putting up with the crap in my current workplace.  But it's making me miserable and the concerns of former in-laws and former friends are pretty low down on my priority list.  Moving home opens up the possibility of a rest period while I pursue other opportunities.

  Of course, my apartment is lovely.  It's in a great neighbourhood that I love, with good, friendly neighbours, and I do love where I currently live.  Most importantly, it is mine.  But I get the sense that this place has served its purpose in the greater scheme of my own life.

   Had I decided to move home a year ago, when my marriage ended, I would have felt all the more the failure.  I had another axe to grind: I had to show to myself that I could survive completely on my own.  Now that axe is pretty sharp, and I don't need to worry about proving my ability to live independently to others, or myself.  I can go home knowing that I'm able to come back out here again when I choose to.

  Had I not moved here, I doubt my book would have been finished, or turned out the way that it did. Burlington is a nexus of prosperity and a high quality of living, and the downtown around Brant and Lakeshore provided me with prime inspiration for my protagonist's own life, even if it's not by name.  An artist needs a vibe of prosperity, and that's what I got while I was here.

 Had I not moved here, I never would have taken that walk through the vendors at Ribfest and gotten involved with Film/Comm Talent, starting this new journey.  Had I not moved here, I never would have dated that girl who lived around the corner, and had that kiss that really renewed my own feeling of worth as a good partner. 

  Make no mistake.  This place helped manifest the best case scenario in a transformative year.

  But now, I am here, and the things I want to accomplish require me to say goodbye to Burlington, with thanks.  This will be the first time I'm leaving a place that I'm still in love with, heart and soul.  As I said, one of the toughest decisions I've made in recent years, and those years have had their moments, that's for sure.

  Too often, we hold onto things that served us in the past when they're well beyond their expiration date.  That doesn't invalidate their previous benefits: just means you need to get a new carton of milk is all.  

  Ironically, by choosing to pack it in for a while and go home, I feel even more empowered than I thought I would be, because it's a clear choice that I am making for myself.  In so doing, I avoid joining other statistical clubs: the Society of Working Poor; the I've Never Seen Europe Support Group; not to mention the Ancient Mystic Society of Unhappy Office Workers. 

  This isn't a failure to launch.  This is a deliberate de-orbit, a time to come back to earth for a while for a refit, so that I can land among the stars the next time I head up there.  And reach them I will.

  Splashdown's in two months.  Time to get ready.

Second Tier Dreams

    There are simply too many artists sacrificing the present chasing future dreams.

    As I wrote earlier, many aspiring writers, actors, animators, singers, what-have-you are waiting tables, pouring coffee, pushing papers, or lugging boxes to make ends meet.  The justification is that they're just "paying the bills", and this is true.  But one thing they don't consider is that they're not necessarily making the best use of other talents they may have in the interim.

   Take someone like myself - university educated, leadership talents thanks to the Fraternity and other organizations, intelligent, with high technical skill - and put them doing something from 9 to 5 that makes little use of these other talents - like administration or other entry level posts - and what do you have?  Work dissatisfaction.  Personal stagnation.  Stress.  Anxiety.  Feelings of malaise and disappointment. 

   Why do we do this to ourselves?  "Why," we say, "I'm just doing this until [fill in the lucrative artsy career goal], nothing more."  Why do we do this?  "It's just what I've always done." And every word of it is true, but eventually, working below our potential on a daily basis will cost us those other talents. They will atrophy. 

   As such, it's important to envision a second-tier dream, while bigger ones are pending.

   Artists usually don't do this, especially if they, like me, use tools like the Law of Attraction and intention-based mindset practices to fulfill goals.  "If I go after something else, won't I be compromising my dream?  Won't I be spreading myself too thin if I get a job that's too involved?"

   The questions makes sense, and the answer to both is, well, yes and no.  Yes, because no longer is your vision of seeing your book on the bestseller's shelf at Borders or winning a Grammy going to be the only one you have.  No, because the second-tier dream runs parallel to the main one: in fact, the second tier dream underlies the first.

   You see, Aspiring Career Artist, you're going to have to work a job no matter what until you get to that moment of fulfillment.  That means you have an opportunity to not only pay the bills, but to develop other skills that you might be sidelining in favour of your chief talent.

   Cindy Crawford may be a world-famous model now, but she had won a scholarship to study Chemical Engineering at Northwestern University. Mind you, she only studied for one academic quarter before modeling took off, but the point is that she definitely had talents that she would have applied in the working world.

  Twin career pursuits can lead to cross-fertilization that can only enhance your bigger dreams.  For instance, if you become a team lead in some capacity at a company, you'll build leadership and organizational skills that you can then internalize enough to help keep you on track with your novel-writing.  Sales skills garnered anywhere from furniture stores to the financial sector can enhance your abilities to read people, which you can then translate to better character portrayals as an actor.

   If it's that simple, why don't more people have twin careers?  That's the thing: they do.  In my modest thirteen year work history, I've met several dozen individuals like this, each with their own "thing on the side".  And many, if not most of the people I've actually talked to about their bigger dreams, feel as though they're not normal, that they're deviating from what society says they "should" be doing. That's because we're conditioned as children, especially boys, to think about one career only. 

   "What do you want to be when you grow up?" isn't typically a multiple choice question, but it should be, because most human beings aren't one-trick ponies.

   We spend 40 hours a week at a full-time job.  A third of your day, at least half of your waking life (assuming we're splitting the 24 hours three ways, including sleep).  If it's making you feel miserable, if you feel like a misfit, that's a sure sign that you should be looking to trade up anyway, artsy career goal or not.

   But if you are an artist, take it from a guy who worked at three different places in the three years it took him to start and finish his first novel: don't suffer the present for your future needlessly.  Don't stagnate at a place just because "it's a job".

  You've got other talents, and if you can explore them at a day job that helps you grow in those directions, that will put you (back) in a mindset of confidence, leadership, ambition, and excellence, then that's where you should be looking. 

  That's what I'm looking for.  After finishing the exercise that my ex gave me the other day, I concluded that what I'm looking for boils down to a few key elements: a leadership role in a big private sector company; a large team environment where I interact with lots of people each day; a Monday to Friday day shift; at least 10k more a year in take-home money than what I'm making now; a fair, consistent, and people-centric management philosophy; and someplace that has a strong participatory corporate culture (i.e. company teams, events, parties).   That's broad enough that I'm sure I can find such a place in my area, but specific enough that I reduce the risk of repeating past mistakes in approaching a potential job.

  To my friends who are still in school, high school and up, do yourselves a favour: set yourself a secondary, as well as a primary dream.  Contrary to what your parents, educators, and physics may have taught you, you can be in two places at once. 

   And who knows?  You might discover that your second tier dream is actually the thing you really want to do for your working life.  Of course, today, that's not me.  Definitely not me....

Please Note

  At 7:48pm, EST, on Sunday, December 12th, 2010, I finished my novel.  I was in my apartment in Burlington, Ontario. 

  Convergence is 311 pages (8 1/2 by 11), and the first draft is 127,511 words as of the end of writing.

  I've finished my novel. 

  Huh....isn't that something?

Soul Mates, Stunt Doubles, and Other Realities....

  Watched Will Smith's Hancock the other day for the first time.  I enjoyed it. Grittier than I expected, and Jason Bateman's performance inspired me to push Michael to become a PR guy: I think he'd be spectacular at it, personally.  Michael and Bateman's character Ray share that quality: they can persuade you to do good, functional things simply by talking to you, not by raising their voices or pushing you around, just talking.  Theirs is a subtle power, one that's far more effective on me than "C'mon! Go do it!  Do eeet!".  But that's neither here nor there.

  What most caught my attention was Charlize Theron, and who could blame me? Oh, Charlize....

I thought her role in this movie was especially poignant.  The only other "superhero" in the world, Hancock's wife for over three thousand years.  Built, like he was, to have her superpowers diminish and immortality fade when she chose a mate, so that they could live and die together, as normal people, if they so chose.  The only way they can be "superheroes" is to be apart. 

  What powers do we lose when we're in love? 

  It's coming up on a year that I've been single.  I've had the privilege of meeting so many others, some in my boat, others paddling alongside me in their own, who were in wonderful relationships, and are now out of them, floating along this unexpected river. 

  Some I've only known as single men and women, others I met when they were just out of a relationship and in the "crazy" stage.  A few are still "recovering", years later, from what happened to them. A few of them went the other way and are now in relationships whereas before they were single.

  For some, life lessons need to be taken internally.  No matter how much people will give you advice on relationships, early on and well after you've fallen out of love and gone back on your own, you have to learn numerous things completely through your own experience.  The old "I'll believe it when I see it" adage applies to some people more than others.

  From a year's worth of owning the whole bed to myself, I can say two things for sure: I know who I am, and I know who I'm waiting for.

  But first, one random point:

Stunt Doubles

 Lining up for Harry Potter  a few weeks ago with Michael and Aaron, we were talking about the new "See Friendship" function on Facebook.  I off-handedly remarked that Alice had said that our "friendship" was so epic that you'd swear we were dating.  "Aren't you?" teased Michael.  "Yeah, she's like a part-time girlfriend for you," said Aaron.  "You need to consider getting an actual girlfriend and not just a female friend."

  Checking this with Alice through our preferred medium of BlackBerry Messenger afterwards, she concurred:

"Yeah,you should get a full-time girlfriend soon. As much as I enjoy our friendship, it'll be a lot more fun for you ;)"

 The next day, I met Pam for coffee at the Indigo bookstore in Stoney Creek.  When we were walking to our cars afterwards, I mentioned the conversation of the previous night.

   "Oh, you mean stunt doubles," she said.

   "What?"

   "Well, it's like an opposite-sexed substitute for either an existing partner or none at all.  You know how sometimes if a boyfriend wants to go somewhere that his actual girlfriend doesn't like, he'll sometimes get a female friend to go with him?"

    "Yeah?"  Pam nodded.

    "Yep. Stunt double.  A fill in for an actual partner."

    Not a new concept for me, for sure. One of my favourite movies, Elizabethtown, featured the idea prominently.  As Kirsten Dunst's character Claire says of her friendship with Orlando Bloom's Drew Baylor:

"We're the substitute people."

 

   Being a stunt double or sub for an actual partner's supposed to be something of an insult, but that usually presumes that one of the people involved wants to be more than that.  This is what my ex's current boyfriend used to be: in the end, he got his wish, rightly or wrongly. 

   But for myself, the (re)discovery of the concept made me realize something new: most of the female friends I'm closest to serve as substitute people for my ex.  They're part-time girlfriends, totally platonic, but serving the same functions. And we're all cool with this arrangement.

    Pam and Alice are the two primary stunt doubles I have, I think. Even my ex herself at times...well, the new version of her, anyway.  Each serves different purposes.  Pam's like a big sister who thinks much the same way I do and who really *gets* it; Alice shares many of the same interests and quirks that I do and has a knack for kicking my ass in a good way without meaning to, very effectively; and whenever I need historical perspective, I go to my ex, because after all we've shared, she remains the one human being outside my family who knows me best and longest - fourteen years now and counting.  And, of course, my guy friends provide buddy time and act as a rational, more social contrast for me to measure up my crazy introverted ideas. 

   Again, it is what it is, but I find it remarkable that I had to find at least six substitute people to provide the emotional satisfaction I used to get from just one. 

   It goes to show that none of us are truly functioning under our own power.  We all need those social connections, and those emotional ones in particular, wherever we can get them.  And though we'll occasionally burn our friends out with our whining, complaining, and venting, they'll be back for more, because that's what good friends do. 

   There's more I want to say on the subject of stunt doubles, but I want to touch on something else first, so we'll return to this later.

  Who I'm Looking For....

   Personal value and self worth are often the first casualties of a breakup or divorce, provided you didn't lose them already in the time leading up to the split. Thus, you might feel inclined, as I did for about seven months, to look for a new relationship way before you've managed to put yourself back together again.

  They'll tell you "you're not ready to date", and sheer ego will keep you from listening.  But you aren't, you really aren't, until you know you can be on your own.  It's old news, it's what everyone tells everyone else who is suddenly single.  And yet, as I said earlier, you've got to learn this from your own experience to really believe it.  As Ke$ha says, love is indeed a drug, and when you're jonesing for a hit after you're stash has run out, you'll say anything to get it.  That's what desperation does. 

  Hell, they may even have to tie you to a tree.

   So then, how do you know you're ready?  Same way you've got to prove to the bank that you don't need the loan in order to get it.  Same way that you need work experience before you can get that first job.

   You're ready for a relationship when you can feel the same love for yourself as you would if you had a partner to love you. 

   I thought I was ready in April.  Then again in June.  And in August, I was actually dating a girl for a bit, and I though I feel this is when I became emotionally ready, I had a ton of career-related challenges - namely French classes and studies that I needed for a job-saving bilingual test - that would have interfered with any new relationship for at least a month and a half.  

   Those may have indeed been self-deceptions, false Buddhas on the road to Enlightenment, but if you'd asked me then if I was ready to fall in love again, I would have said yes.  Not that it would have been a giant lie, but I wasn't as ready as I am now. 

   Because now, when I think of meeting someone, I'm willing to wait for the right person.  I have a surprisingly clear and ever-evolving idea of who she is, and anyone less than that would always be second rate.  That wasn't the case before, when I was willing to date every kind of girl just for the validation. 

   Love costs you your superhero powers, if not applied correctly.  That subplot in Hancock is a great metaphor for what it does to some people, and what it would do to me if I fell in love with anyone less than the right girl. 

   That's who I'm looking for.  Her and only her. 

   Most women out there don't interest me.  My buddies tell me I have to approach them, say hello, and I'm really good at doing this now, but I choose not to most of the time because there's only one kind of experience I'm looking for, and it's not a casual lay.  Most women don't interest me because I'm not interested in most women. Just one.

   Right now, I'm functioning at an overall peak performance in many aspects of life.  I've improved so much and I'm working on elevating the other parts, career in particular.  I'm as sure of myself as a self-reflective ENFP lone wolf author can be.  My ideal mate is someone who would not cause me to revert back to who I was before, and thus undo this evolution in progress.

   I'm uniquely positioned among other men in my social circle to be able to declare this.  For starters, my sex drive is not nearly as elevated as most guys, meaning I'm not going to go skirt-chasing at bars because I can wait for someone special to share that experience with.  I love myself more now than I ever have, not conceit, but a healthy love of self.  I'm more willing to define social boundaries and not give up my time, attention, or beliefs just to get people to like me.  Most of all, I'm living for things that are bigger than me, primarily art and storytelling in the form of writing, and acting when that gets off the ground. 

   As such, the only dance partner I'm willing to take for a spin will be the so-called "One".  Soul mate. Twin flame.  Whatever you want to call her, she's the only one I'm willing to go and get.  I'll know her when I see her.  And since I'm waiting for only one particular girl to show up, I don't need to waste my time chasing other ones around the ballroom.

   That way, when I do fall in love, I won't be giving up any of my power. The love-drug makes you do so many stupid things. Given the right circumstances, you can fall in love with just about anyone: it's how you explain the "why is he with that bitch?" or "why is she with that asshole?" scenario. When you're with the wrong person, you can damage yourself for life, lose your abilities, sometimes forever. Love isn't enough.

   In a relationship with my soul partner, however, we can only add our powers together, because she's the optimal match for me. She doesn't have to be a complete copy of me - she'll have her differences, obviously - but we need to be in the same wavelength in life, giving off the same type of vibration, for this to work right.  Call me picky if you wish, but why the hell would I settle for anything less than the best for me?

   There's a girl out there right now who's everything I'm looking for, and for whom I'm everything she wants to have.  In a way, we're already together, we just haven't caught up to the reality.  And if we're already destined to meet, then in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy today as much as I can, do my utmost to maintain positive energy as work does its thing and the holiday stresses mount and the cold closes in. 

   Who is this girl, though? My equal and complementary spirit? What does she look like?  What is her story?  Does she enjoy Babylon 5 reruns as much as I do? (Scratch that question: of course she does!). 

   I have no answers to the detail questions yet, but however, wherever, and whenever we meet, I'll owe Serendipity a drink at the bar for all of her hard work. 

  Can't buy it now though: Serendipity's busy working as I write this, and there's no drinking on the job.

  Until then, read this.  I thought it was rather sweet.  A page from Serendipity's portfolio right there.