Hey look! It's Enrico Palazzo!

I know, I know. I've been slacking on the blog posts as of late. It's not that there's nothing going on in my head (although some would beg to differ), but that my writing's been more spread out than before. In addition to what I do at work there's my film blog (http://motownmovies.blogspot.com) and then the work I'm doing for my writer's group, along with the very slow work on my book (yes, I'm on the third chapter, about 25 pages in. . . it's slow, but it's progress).

Plus, I just haven't had much to rile up the blood pressure as of late.

But I figure that maybe enough has gone on right now to at least do a little bulletin update. And later this week maybe we'll get something of more substance out there.

• So I guess the biggest news around these parts is that I recently got a dog. Rather, I inherited my brother's shih tzu Zeke, who was not such a fan of their little baby. Constant Readers may be reminded that Zeke is also the dog I once spent two hours chasing around a neighborhood when he was younger. But other than a few hiccups with his bathroom habits, which he's stopped, he's adapted quite well. He's happy, likes to run around the apartment with his toys and loves all the places to walk around here. And I'll be honest that I like the company No matter how bad your day's been (and last week was filled with some doozies), I guarantee that everything gets a little bit easier when you walk in the door and see that dog with his tongue sticking out and his tail wagging. So it's nice having a little buddy around the apartment.
• The other big news was that some summer storms late last week knocked out the power at my apartment for about 50 hours (it felt more like four days). I can't say I handled the situation as calmly as I should've or would've liked, but I can also say that I didn't anticipate having to have the $100 of groceries that I had just bought go bad. But the power's back on, the fridge is stocked and the laundry is clean, so all is right with the world.
• On the work front, really nothing to report. Honestly, I'm still liking the job (mostly the paycheck and the better schedule that working just one job provides) but if I told you what I write about all day you would die from boredom So it's best that we keep it a secret. For your own good.
• I am now just past the 30-Day mark for my 30th birthday. In less than a month my 20's will be over and I'm finding that the preparation for this transition is definitely a lot harder than I had anticipated. A lot of introspection going on here. Thinking about what I've accomplished or not accomplished. Regrets, lost chances, successes. . . the 20s were busy. It was when I started becoming my own person. Now the question on my mind is: do I like what I'm becoming? I don't know that I'll have an answer for that by the time I turn 30, but the truth is that it's probably a little "yes" and a little "no."
• I've also been thinking more about death. Not in a morbid, emo way; no thoughts of suicide or darkness. But more of reflecting on the reality that one day I will die. It will end. It gets closer each day. More than that, however, comes the reality that one day death will start being commonplace around me. God has blessed me in that I haven't lost anyone close to me. I know there will come a day when that's no longer the case. Family, friends, acquaintances...and, God help me, I don't think I'm ready for that.
• One the other hand, I've also been thinking more about life. The reality that hitting 30 is no longer considered being "old." And for many, the 30s are the age when they discover what they're passionate about and start thinking outside of themselves, getting causes and making changes that resonate in the world. I've been thinking about the surprises that are still out there. Love, career change, ministry opportunties, whatever God chooses to use my writing for. And it's exciting. And then I think about my niece and nephew...I think about my cousins who will start having children (not with each other!)...I think that in the next 10 years are over I will hopefully be a dad. And it's exciting. It's exciting to think about this new generation that will come up and it's scary to think that they are going to have to live in a world that is shaped by our mistakes and errors. And it's also a bit surreal to think about this...children are our future, but we're also their past.
• On the bright side, the closer my birthday gets, the closer my vacation gets. On July 23 I'll be off work for the rest of the month, taking a trip to Kings Island with the family and then coming back for my first week off work in about four years (I never took a week off at the Source; I had no money to take a vacation and when you have weekly deadlines it piles up a lot faster). I'm hoping to spend that week just relaxing, maybe hit Cedar Point, get a lot of reading and writing done and basically just let my blood pressure drop. So it will be good.
• But before that, of course, comes Independence Day weekend. And while there's nothing huge on the horizon for that, I'm thinking it will be a good weekend. A BBQ with some friends on Saturday followed by fireworks. Some time by the pool with a good book. Sleeping in very late. Should be nice.
• And the obligatory movie update--I did see "Away we Go" this weekend and really, really enjoyed it. A nice change of pace for Sam Mendes and it was nice to see John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph really have a chance to shine. Next up, this weekend I hope to see both "Public Enemies" and "Moon" and I'm going nuts waiting for "The Hurt Locker" to expand into this area!
• Nope, have not seen "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen." Don't know when I'll get around to it but I'm sure I will, at least while it's still in theaters. The truth is, though, I really have no desire. I've heard nothing but terrible things about it. And the thing is, I enjoyed the first "Transformers" movie for what it was. I wanted to see big robots blowing things up and Michael Bay delivered. But I had 2 1/2 hours of that and, you know what? I'm pretty well set. I have the DVD and I pop it out occassionally. I really was not asking for more to the story. I don't necessarilly care about a back story or mythology to the space robots and I could care less what happens to Sam and Mikeala. And that apathy may have been overcome by the promise of some big set pieces and good, dumb fun. But when I start hearing about a 150-minute running time (think about this: WALL-E was 90 minutes but we have a combined 5 hours of 'Transformers' adventures; that's inexcusable) and racist robots and crude humor in what's supposed to be a film for kids...the apathy turns to derision pretty easily.
• Besides, isn't "GI Joe" coming out soon?"
• And that's about all for tonight.

CDubbs

A few nights ago I had an experience that really startled me.

I've been sleeping fairly poorly the past few weeks--I think it's a combination of both going off my Paxil and the fact that I simply don't sleep well in the warm summer weather (I've tried not to turn on my a/c at night).

The other night I was sleeping and, for a change, fell into a bit of a deep sleep. In my dream I was only a child and I was running around and smacked my head into a wooden post. In the dream I fell to the ground crying, startled by the pain. And in the dream my parents came for me to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay.

I can't really explain what happened upon awaking. I woke up and, of course, knew I was fine. I was 29 years old and hadn't run into any posts to my knowledge. But I sat up in bed and suddenly felt a very deep sadness that moved me, in the middle of the night, to tears. I'm too old to do that anymore, I remember thinking. If I fall and hurt myself, no one's coming for me. 

Now, I'm sure that there were a number of things going into that thought. The first was, obviously, that it was the middle of the night and one's brain doesn't process thoughts as coherently as it does throughout the rest of the day. And of course if something happened to me my family would gather around and pray and encourage me; they were there every day when I was in the hospital for a week in 2002. And really, if I fall down and hurt myself I'm probably not going to call my parents--I'm going to stand up and shake it off, chalking it up one of my hundreds of clutzy tendencies.

But still, it's stuck with me. And I think it's because I realize I'm not that kid anymore who can be hurt and run, fully trusting, into someone's arms. I'm an "adult." I'm "self-relient." If I fall and hurt myself I have to just stand up, walk it off and grit it out because even though people will encourage me no one's going to come and pick me up and tell me it's going to be okay. That's for kids; adults get through this stuff on their own.

Something sort of similar happened just a few days before that. I was driving home from work at around 4:00 and, as I drove through a subdivision, I passed a group of kids running around the neighborhood, chasing each other and jumping through sprinklers, laughing and without a care in the world. And I remember the thought coming through my mind really quickly, "oh, I can't wait until summer break"...and then, just as quickly I caught myself. I'm a "grown up." I don't get "summer break." I may take a vacation, but even that is broken up with trying to tend to obligations, sticking to a schedule and worrying about how much money we're spending, are we getting fat on vacation food and reminding ourselves to put on sunscreen so that the sun we love won't burn us. Our adult vacations give us the illusion of freedom but not the real thing--everything is still tied into this responsibility of being grown up and responsible.

Maybe it's a bit harder pushing 30 and dealing with this as a single adult. After all, some of those beautiful things about summer and childhood can be compensated when you're a parent or at least married. If I wake up from a nightmare, I have no one to talk to about it; I simply have to wait until the feeling disappates and then go back to sleep. Those who are married have their spouses to hold them and say "it's just a dream; it will be okay." Should something horrible happen and I'm dealing with tragedy or difficulty, I am dealing with it largely alone; I have friends I can call or e-mail but even then I'm at the whim of their availability and, at the end of the day, I'm home by myself. And parents can recapture the glory days of summer by watching their children enjoy the pool or play baseball and see a part of themselves in that. I don't have that.

But I think it's more than just my status as a single. It's the fact that, if I were to be honest, I am approaching 30  and feeling like I've been duped about this whole process of being an adult.

When you were a kid, being "grown up" was the freedom to do whatever you want. It was being smart enough to know the answers to things. It was being able to go to work and make money and coming home to have a nice family.

First off, that freedom is a false freedom. Because you have to go to bed early to be up at a job the next morning. And while people may indeed go off to jobs they enjoy and that utilize their talents, the truth is that even the best jobs turn into this after awhile: pounding away at a keyboard for 8 hours while keeping one eye on the clock. At least in school there was the promise that, in a few years, there would be an end to it. You would graduate and go out into "the real world." These days, there's no promise of work ending and, if it does, we will be too old to really enjoy any of it. We leave home just as the day is starting and get home just to eat dinner and find ourselves winding down the weeknights slowly in order to start the whole ordeal over again the next day. And again, while we may enjoy our jobs, the truth is that we don't feel free at them--we're slaves to them, knowing that we have to stay there in order to keep our insurance, buy our food, keep up our cars and save up for that one vacation a year.

And the answers to things? Do you know how much I would give just to unlearn some things that I know now? I don't like knowing that people are untrustworthy. I don't like knowing that the money I make--which, admittedly, is comfortable and yet not extravagant--is more than entire cities in other countries see in one year. I don't like knowing that I go home to a nice apartment filled with food and comforts while somewhere tonight a small child will die of starvation and disease in Africa. I don't like knowing that as much as I try and stand up to it, I've been just a big of a sucker for the American Dream as anyone--I've worked hard and gotten the place to live, some nice creature comforts and the ability to take off on vacation should I want. I don't like the fact that when I tell a kid "you can do anything you want with your life" that I feel like I'm lying to the kid; knowing that the kid is likely going to face the same culture that tells them to dream a bit smaller so that they can more effectively afford that big house and 2 cars so their family can live in comfort...and knowing that the kid, when he's grown up, will likely sell out for that.

And the supporting of a family? Remember when you're a kid and you dream of having a wife/husband and kids? And in your mind that always happens by the time you're 20 or 25, tops. I sit here in the apartment tonight and realize that not only am I sitting here still single but that I have no idea why that's the case or if it will ever change. There's not that guarantee you have in your mind as a kid that life will go according to plan.

Are there upsides to getting older? Sure. And that's what I keep trying to preach to myself. You get a degree of freedom that you didn't have before, a chance to live life on your own and make your own decisions. And the problems that you begin to discover with the world? Well, now you can actually be a part of the solutions. And those carefree childhood summers? I may not be able to relive them, but I'm certain that I appreciate a lazy day off a lot more than I did as a child, when they were expected and taken for granted. And while I'm still single and it's often a tough trial that wreaks havoc on the self-esteem, I can look forward to the possibility that one day, maybe, I'll be surprised by love and get to experience it. And if I don't, maybe I have the gift of singleness (and if I do, I would like someone to point me to the gift exchange line).

And maybe I'm just having a rough time preparing for this transition to 30--a transition that is, after all, basically only symbolic. Maybe I'm just having a rough night. But I have to say that when I hear people talk about how wonderful it is to be an adult and a grown up, it's becoming a bit tougher to agree with them.

CDubbs