Monday, October 12, 2009

Communications Confuzion

I'm really not the most social person in the world. Really. I can do the social thing. Sometimes it's easier than others. And some situations really confuse me.

The work thing, for example, brings much mental stress. I know my position puts me at a level of the program mangers... I *am* a program manager, for all intents and purposes. So I'm supposed to socialize with these folks?

I don't quite have enough in common. I'm working on the family aspect, which many share. But I've been the lonely single person too, and we have at least a handful of those folks. Still, I just don't feel as related to these folks as I do to the researchers who make up the ranks.

I know it's logical and standard practice to not get too chummy with folks that you manage, even if they're not directly your folks. It's a stratification of the organizational structure. At once I am drawn to break ranks but still wanting the privileges, protection and influence of the upper echelon.


Saturday, October 3, 2009

Life is Good

Instead of relentlessly tweeting, I'll blather on here a bit. That's probably a relief for the two of you who gets my tweets directly to cell phone.

It seems ridiculously relaxing to be sitting at a pub drinking a beer before the wedding of Liz and Miles. I drove three hours, from Northern Baltimore, straight here to participate in the mitzvah of celebrating with Bride and Groom. I'm seriously kvelling, if only because I find myself so incredibly in love with a wonderful woman. I fantasize about a Ward and June Cleaver life with her. I think I'm quite silly. And smitten and in love.

The drive was nice, clear skies and plenty of animals -- wild and domesticated -- to watch along the way. A fair share of flattened tragedies as well, including a small black bear. I try to think of the cycle of life and not get overwrought about death. I spent a lot of time thinking about my sweetie and how gentle and kind she is.

I left her to finish packing her house, in preparation for the move tomorrow to the new apartment, free from the madness of her Ex finally. The apartment is in the same building with her Bubbie and other extended family. The door frame of the apartment bears the marks of at least four different mezzuzot. We nearly crashed into the young Frum woman coming out of the laundry room. I suspect we'll be quite the spectacle in the land of the very Orthodox: me and my yarmulke and men's clothes and she and her giant chest tattoo, us both holding hands everywhere we go.

Don't be afraid. We're actually both very nice.
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