If you must drive the wrong way down a one way street, drive very fast. You're going the wrong way, so get the fuck out of there.

Ah, to be young and so sure of myself as to be arrogant. Those were the days.

Hey, wait a second.

When I was young, I was completely plagued with self-doubt, feelings of inadequecy, and self-loathing. Those were days of torture, frustration, anger and hopelessness. Arrogance? Maybe less humility than I should have had, but arrogance? Nah.

On the flight home from Denver, I had the pleasure of sitting next to a young man, presumably a college kid, on his way to San Jose for an interview with Apple.

Ick. "Young man." Sounds so snooty. I sat next to this young guy who was clearly a geek. And he didn't appear to be suffering the plagues of my youth, that's for sure.

After he shoved his rollerbag into the overhead bin, he threw down his Camel book (Programming Perl for those non-O'Reilly, non-perl folks out there), and sat down in a huff. I sat down in my aisle seat, and continued to read my magazine. After a bit, my curiousity got the better of me, and I asked him why he was reading his Perl book. He said he'll have an interview the next day, and he was studying hard for his interview. He had heard that Apple uses perl for scripting and that he should know it. So, full of importance, he opens the book (page 127) and starts reading (an hour later he made it to page 137, boding not well for my young friend here, in his hopes of completing his studies).

When I pulled out my mac to start working (that would be writing another "Letters to My Children" entry, entitled "Every Choice Means a Sacrifice"), he told me that it was a great computer, that I had made a good choice in purchasing it. I felt so much better knowing I had made the correct choice, because I could have pulled out the other laptop I had with me, the PoS PC.

Lordy, did I chuckle to myself on this one. He continued to try to impress me, with talk about Apple, perl, interviews, how his time would be completely filled, with grandiose sighs and self important glances, with mutterings about this and that. I didn't have the heart to tell him my experience. I'm sure they would have paled in comparison to his glorious achievements.

At some point, however, he must have sensed that he was talking to another geek, perhaps one a little more experienced than he was, because he asked with a stark look of slight terror, "I'm not speaking to an Apple employee right now, am I?" I chuckled, and said no.

I don't think he believed me. He didn't talk to me for the remaining 90 minutes of the flight. I almost feel sorry for the guy. I mean, here he is being out-geeked by the passenger two seats over from him on the flight out to his interview, and he's interviewing where there are hundreds of people who can out-geek her (me).

Did I mention said college kid doesn't play ultimate? Well, he doesn't.

I recently opened up my new site (this one!) to more people. Previously, only a few people read it (hi, Kris, Elizabeth and Michael!).

I finally linked where it is to the hodsden.org page, though I'd like to move it to the location of my old, old site. I've been meaning to do this for a while now, so I'm happy I did it. But I'm still a bit nervous. Not quite as much as I was with the ultimateteam.org launch, but still greater than zero.

The feedback has been quite positive, which makes me happy. This site is more for me than the Internet, but I'm glad that other people are enjoying it. I'm still debating whether or not to open up comments to anonymous users. I'm resisting mostly because of others' experiences with comment spam. If you want to post comments before I decide, create an account.

One of the most encouraging comments I've had about this site came from my friend Priyanka. She asked if I had written anything apart from this site, as she liked my writing style. Having talked to Mom about a couple book ideas, I think this encouragement might be just what I need to start on those ideas. I don't want to force the writing. Writing here is easy: I write what I'm thinking (scary thought). However, I've had a lot of dead time recently, flying back and forth from various places, waiting in line at various places, and the like, where I can write. I can use the book functionality of drupal to write (if I don't write longhand).

We'll see. Might be fun.

Or it might become one of those somedays.

"If we weren't responsible adults, we would have had a sexual relationship."

A friend of several years recently made that comment to me during a close, late night conversation. It's stuck with me, and inspired the most recent "Letters to my Children" entry, "Crushes Are Okay, Your Actions Are What Matter."

I'm convinced everyone crushes and experiences that semi-obsessive thinking of someone, full of imaginings of and perhaps longing for the company of the object of crush. Lisa and I talked about crushes, about how they're normal, about as long as you recognize them for what they are, and don't do anything more than enjoy them, they can also be healthy.

Crushes can be small, lasting a meal or a day, or they can be overwhelming, lasting months, years or lifetimes. Yes, lifetimes. A retired friend of mine, who is in his seventies, has had a crush on a friend of his for near fifty years, most of his lifetime. Oh, sure, as adults we call it "respect" and not "desire." But it's the same thing: a crush. And having them is okay. If you enjoy the crush, feel the sexual tension, enjoy the company, and let it go at that, they can be wonderful. They can remind us of the joys of falling in love (on a smaller scale, but similar none-the-less), those giggly moments when little matters but that happy-little-flip-flop.

Because what is important is your reactions to the crush: what you do or don't do about them. Actually having them isn't important: they're normal. Trying to suppress them is nigh impossible, like trying to stop an avalanche mid-fall: it ain't gonna happen.

So, my friend's comment was dead on: we would have had a sexual relationship if both of us had been single at the same time. And it would have been a lot of fun. Imagining what would have happened is also okay, because I know, in the end, it won't be my friend who I go home to, who I sleep with, who I snuggle at night.

It'll be Kris, my best friend.

Today is Cal's birthday.

I haven't met Cal yet. I won't meet him until this coming May. But I have the feeling that once I put the archive link up in the right side (or maybe the left side at this point, who knows) that he'll peek at what happened in my life on this day.

And I want to have something here for him.

Ah, manipulating time stamps. I crack myself up.

Hi, Cal!