Miniaturization!

Just a quick one:

Kris posts on Phil's Facebook status with simply, "Is it wrong"... So I reply, "Is what wrong?"

She gets a text message that I commented, and since she's sitting right next to me, she says out loud, "I f***ed up, that's what's wrong."

So I look at pointedly at her, and then at our 9 year old playing with the dog just a few feet away, saying without words, "And you tell ME to watch my language."

She catches the look from me, turns to Dante, and says, "SH*T!"

My Life, Act 27, Scene 11

So I have a friend, who lives in Portland, OR. This friend recently took a trip to Hawai'i. Supposedly, she has returned from said trip, and so I text: "How's Hawai'i?"



The response: "Fuck if I know, I'm in Portland, OR."



Which leaves me thinking that she's just being humorous and sarcastic, as she's known for both of these qualities.



Me: "Okay, so how WAS it?"



Her: "I believe you have the wrong number."



Me: "(First Name) (Last Name), a.k.a. (Gamer Name)?"



Her: "My name is Amy, I hate the sun, and would never go to Hawai'i even if given the chance."



Now, most people would let the textual conversation die with a simple, "Oops!" but this is not my style. The conversation continued, and the result might end up being a picture of Amy's toes, which have been tattooed.



My question to You, dear Gusby, is this: Why have you given me the ability to be so accidentally charming? I don't intend to do it... and yet it happens...



Regardless of whether or not you share the answer with me, let the record show that I am not complaining. It does add a bit of fun to the whole thing.

A message, through me.

This post is actually not directed towards Gusby... it is for you.

There are many things in this world that I believe, which you may feel the same or differently about. It can be succinctly summed up in one bullet point:

• The world is made up of pure energy: Some energies have higher vibrational frequencies and are outside the range of typical human detection. Some have lower vibrations, and can be more easily felt. Regardless of the frequency of the energy, some are more dense than others. Physical, corporeal bodies are made up entirely of differently vibrating, dense clusters of energy. This energy, in all of it's multitudinous frequencies, vibrations and densities, can be interacted with in a physical manner. It may be as simple as a hug between two corporeal entities, or as complicated and "psychic" as using altered thought processes to influence the vibrations.

Your brain, which science has proven operates via different frequency energies (i.e. electrical pulses), can change reality by itself.

Emotions have energetic weight. A house in which someone was violently murdered has nearly permanent impressions of sadness, shock and grief. A graveyard, which has many different emotional signatures, primarily feels contemplative, stoic and calm. Emergency rooms in hospitals are almost always full of fear. Gazebos in scenic locations are typically full of a sense of calmness, openness to beauty, and happiness. Walking into a house that was shared by two people in love for decades almost always feels like home, regardless of whether or not you spent much time there, because for almost all of us, love IS home.

Because these energies have mass and volume, like any physical object you can pick up and throw with your arm, they are succeptible to you flexing your intellectual muscles. A grieving house can be cleansed of it's negative energy. A barren landscape can impart a sense of wonder and beauty.

Your body operates not just similarly to locations, but identically. Your mental energies dictate your physical state. If you are constantly afraid of becoming sick, you will fall ill. If you believe that your muscles are incapable of hefting that heavy object, you will be unable to lift it.

For most people, their lives are tied inextricably to their self-image. Overweight people cannot see the thinner, healthier person who lives inside of that protective shell. Drug users cannot hear the addictionless person inside, screaming at them to give up their self-destructive ways. Materialistic people cannot feel the freedom that comes from removing the stranglehold that their possessions have on them.

What I believe is worse is when those people CAN see, hear and feel that inner voice of reason and reassurance, but consciously choose to ignore it for whatever reason.

This ties into the energy of the world in a very simple way: You control your energy. You have the ultimate, undeniable and utterly irrefutable ability to monitor and correct your energy.

Do you want to lose to weight? Meditate for five minutes, concentrating and focusing on raising your energy levels to the point of becoming lighter than air.

Do you want to give up drugs? Meditate for five minutes, concentrating and focusing on raising your energy levels to the point of ethereality, where the more dense and lower frequency energies of the drugs cannot latch onto them.

Do you want to stop being obsessed with having "things"? Meditate for five minutes, concentrating and focusing on raising your energy levels to the point of becoming a golden or amber light, glowing all around you.

The simple message to you from Gusby is this: "You are the center of your world. You have the ability to alter your own reality. Do not fear, as these changes benefit not only yourself, but the entire world."

Yes, you have the ability to alter the entire world. When a house becomes infused with an emotion, it is called sympathetic vibration. It can be seen physically as a tuning fork being struck and its base held against a piece of metal. The metal will eventually pick up the vibration from the fork and resonate with it's own frequency in return.

The more you raise your own energy levels, the more you open your awareness to the energies around you while at the same time understanding that you can protect yourself from the lower level ones, the more the energy around you will pick up on your frequency and begin to harmonize with it.

Live your life, raise your own energy levels and resist the frequencies of those that would bring you down, and you will be amazed with the results.

I forgot this lesson myself, a long time ago, and it was unpleasant. With it in mind, I am... complete.

I hope you become complete as well.

My life, with humor.

Yet another thank you, Gusby, for providing me with the opportunity to spend my life with an infinitely interesting person.

My wife, whom you may know as Kris, is a sometime quilter. This time, she's last-minute sewing a quilt for her parents' 30th wedding anniversary.

As we're standing outside having our preparatory cigarette, she's lamenting the measurements and the cutting of fabric.

She: "Can you help me with this stuff tonight? You know you're better than I am at these things."

Me: "What things? You mean numbers?"

There was much giggling on my side of the conversation at this point, because I do enjoy teasing her about her math skills, and a look on her side that said out loud, "That's not what I meant, you jack ass." Perhaps she may have actually said it out loud, but I could not hear it over my tittering.

Of course, the look merely made the fit of giggles delve towards the netherland of hysterics, which in turn shaped the look into something else that escapes even my vocabalury skills of description.



-----



On a more serious note, however, I must once again say that I am truly blessed in my choice of life-long companion. As much as I enjoy teasing her about what she considers her weaknesses, she is much too hard on herself, as it is her capability of overcoming all frustrations and obstacles (even in math) that made me (and keeps me) truly, madly, deeply in love with her.

Time for another thank you (and request)!

Hey Gusby,

Just a quick note to say "Thank you!" once again. You've been pretty kind to me and mine over the past few weeks, and we really appreciate it.

From getting a little refund on some overpayments, to perfecting my MIG welding on Day Three (What? Day Two was asking too much?), to tests on materials that I learned well enough that they were easy, life has been good in our house.

I don't have too much to ask for this time around, as the general status quo is a lot higher than it has been in the past, but I do have a couple things.

First, if you could see a way to make my sister-in-law's wedding absolutely perfect, we'd all really appreciate it. She's a high-maintenance chica, but she's good people and deserves to have Her Day be totally fantastic.

Second, there's a phone call that I'd like to make, with the belief that it will improve our lives even more than pretty much anything else that's in the works. Any chance on that one?

Thanks!
-A

Daily, I arrive home grumpy.

Normally, there's a very simple, very easy explanation for my grumpiness: I haven't eaten since 7:30 AM.

As you well know, when I'm hungry, I'm grumpy. It's a fact of my life. It's also very easily overcome. Kris will ask me a question, and I'll respond with, "Ask me after I've eaten."

Coming home today, feeling as usual, eating didn't help. I am still grumpy.

I remember welding with oxy-acetylene, and having every last one of my joints look like perfection.
I remember welding with a 6013 stick, and having every last one of my joints look like perfection.
I remember welding with a 6011 stick.
I remember welding with a 6010 stick.
With a 7024 stick.

Every one last one: perfect.

Today, I moved up to MIG (Metal Inert Gas) welding. Also known as GMAW (Gas Metal Arc Welding). My first issue was that my earliest welds looked like someone had placed very tiny cherry bombs into the weld, and blew holes through the whole thing. An easy fix: I had to turn on the 75% Argon/25% Carbon Dioxide gas mixture that shields the weld from oxidation. Wish my teacher would have helped with that.

After the gas was on, things seemed to be going pretty decently... I was able to finish my welds without any major defects. They still looked like beginner's work.

Two hours of joints looking like I'd never welded with MIG before in my entire life, and the frustration that went along with it... I was grumpy beyond needing to eat.

Then I remembered: I've never welded with MIG before in my entire life. I cannot expect perfection on the first day.

But I'm willing to take it on Day Two, if you're so inclined.

Gusby, beer me the epiphany I require?

In welding shop, we've moved from oxy-acetylene to stick welding, which is a variation of arc welding. You grab a handle, called a Stinger, plug it into a machine, and stick a 12-14" metal rod into it. This rod is coated with various types of chemicals, called flux, and range from things like cellulose potassiate to titanium sodiumzyne, or some crap like that.

We made the switch last week, and I took most of last week to really hone my skills with it. On Friday, I built a free-standing ashtray that stands about waist height on Kris. (Knee height on me.) Perhaps needlessly, I'll say that I picked it up pretty quickly and well. Or so I thought.

See, we started with a rod (also called an electrode) called 6013. The 60 stands for the fact that welds done with it have a 60,000 lb tensile strength. The 1 is for which positions it can be used in... in this case, it's all of them (flat, horizontal, vertical and overhead... the difference between flat and horizontal is the tilt angle of your piece. With flat, it's literally flat on the table. With horizontal, the piece has been tilted 90 degrees, but you still go from left to right or vice versa. This differs from vertical in the fact that even though vertical is also tilted 90 degrees from your work surface, you weld either up or down, as opposed to left to right.) The 3 refers to the type of flux coating on the rod.

So... with 6013, I rock. While we weren't required to weld in all positions (see novelle above), I did, and I can make any joint in any position look pretty damn professional. I got all of my stuff done early on in this week, and started working on another ashtray that we could use at school.

On Wednesday of this week, he moved me up to the 6011 electrode. Okay, pretty easy stuff you'd guess... it's still got the 60,000 lb tensile strength so you know it's made of the same type of steel. It's still got the 1 for all positions. Only the flux coating is different, but... c'mon, honestly, how big of a difference can the flux make on a weld?

So I put my materials for the second ashtray aside, thinking to myself, "I'll just crank out all of my joints today, and spend the rest of the week finishing the ashtray, but this way I stay ahead of the class and can make myself available to help people who aren't picking it up as quickly."

Grabbing a 15 lb pile of steel and a handful of 6011 electrodes, I sit down in my booth and get to work. Now, every day I begin work, I lay a test weld out on a flat piece of steel to help me adjust the amperage, arc length, rod angle and travel speed. A single inch of weld on a piece of scrap is enough for me to adjust everything.

Test weld done, adjustments made, I weld the ever-living shit out of the required three perfect corner joints. Bam, bam, bam, just like that they're finished. Now, I've noticed here that this new rod is a little more sensitive to rod angle and arc length. For example, on a corner joint with the 6013 rod, you could hold it anywhere from a 30-70 degree angle to the joint, and make it work. The 6011, being more sensitive, requires that you maintain a 43-47 degree angle the entire time. This has trained me to be able to hold my breath for the 60-75 seconds a full six inch weld requires.

So, new sensitivity in mind, I lay another test weld for my next joint: the lap joint. This is just two overLAPping pieces of metal, so you're working on the edge of one, and the middle of the other. Okay, tested, readjusted for the new requirements (the amperage changes based on your weld), ready to work. Bam, bam, bam, just like that they're finished.

Two joints, whipped out in a hurry and yet still better than what my teacher ended up with after his demonstrations. I'm not bragging, because it's not bragging if it's the simple truth.

Onto the butt joints. Two pieces of stock that quite literally just butt up to each other. This one is a bit trickier because you need to have a little gap in between them. The gap allows the electrical arc to penetrate between the pieces, melting deeper and allowing more of your filler metal (from the rod) to fuse in there, giving the entire piece an extra level of strength. Now, I learned back on 6013 that the size of the gap should be the radius of the electrode you're using. If you're working with a 1/8" electrode, the gap on your butt should be 1/16"... tight ass. On the 3/32" rod... you got it, 3/64" gap. That's a damn small gap, and stupidly difficult to measure. Instead of measuring, I guestimate... and if it looks a little small, I crank the amps up by 5 or 10 to burn a little deeper. If it's bigger, I turn the amps down, so as not to weld these two pieces of steel to my work table. I've seen it happen, and it's pretty damn difficult to remove. Remember that 60,000 lb tensile strength? Yeah, good luck getting that off with a pair of pliers.

I space my stock, lay a test weld, adjust appropriately. Bam, bam, bam, just like that they're finished. Three of the four required welds (on which the class as a whole will be working for at least a week and a half) in the first 20 minutes of class.

Feeling very proud of myself, I polish them up, knock off the little spatters (or as my instructor likes to say, "pigeon shit"), and write my name on them. Walking away from the table we leave our finished work on, I hear George bellowing behind me, "Loopa! C'mere!"

Grinning internally, I turn around and march back.

"What the hell is this shit, man?" he says, pointing to my work.

"Those are my corners, laps and butts on the 6011, George," I reply truthfully.

"Nuh uh, man. No way you're done with this shit yet. Who did this for you?" At this point, he begins to look around to see if there are any juniors or seniors around.

"George," I say laughingly, "these are mine, I just did them. That one is still warm."

"Loopa, that's some major bullshit. Which booth is yours? I'mma come watch you do more of these, and if they ain't this good, you gonna be in some shit for cheating."

Shrugging, I lead the way to my booth, lay out my materials, grab a rod, feed it to the Stinger, slap my helmet down. BAM! A beautiful little corner weld that, if I do say so myself, was even better than the three I turned in.

George walks away, shaking his head in disbelief and muttering. All I caught was, "Boy gotta be eatin', sleepin' and shittin' stick."

Now, onto the fourth and final weld, 30 minutes into my 3 hours long lab. The T joint... A flat piece of steel with another piece welded into the center at a 90 degree angle... pretty straight forward. A test weld, readjustments, and I begin.

Looks like shit. Okay... more adjustments. Shit. More. Shit. More. Shit.

Okay, something isn't right here... So I grab a grinder and grind my table down, to make sure that I've got a good ground on it, to allow the full electrical current to pass through the weld as it needs to.

More shit, three times.

Here are some of the different variations I tried:

125 amps (max for this rod), 80 degree vertical rod angle, 20 degree horizontal rod angle, slow speed.
125 amps, 45 degree vertical, 20 degree horizontal, slow speed.
125 amps, 80 degree vertical, 45 degree horizontal, slow speed.
125 amps, 45 degree vertical, 45 degree horizontal, slow speed.
125 amps, 80 degree vertical, 20 degree horizontal, fast speed.
125 amps, 45 degree vertical, 20 degree horizontal, fast speed.
125 amps, 80 degree vertical, 45 degree horizontal, fast speed.
125 amps, 45 degree vertical, 45 degree horizontal, fast speed.

Eight more times, at 110 amps.
Eight more times, at 100 amps.
etc.
Eight times at 75 amps.

64 welds, with nearly every possible configuration. Sixty four.

Over the course of the last two hours on Wednesday, and all three hours on Thursday, I failed sixty four times in a row.

In the midst of all of this frustration, I was called upon to share my technique with others on the corners, laps and butts, which still went perfectly... so I know that my machine wasn't malfunctioning. It was entirely user error. Replace User and Press Any Key.

Well guess what? I can't find the fucking Any key.

Gusby, I'm begging you... please grant me the epiphany that needs to happen in order for me to lay this weld.

I thought maybe I was being cocky or arrogant, and so you were holding me back a little as a gesture not to get too full of myself... but, while my stories may suggest otherwise, I don't believe I am being cocky or arrogant.

Proud... yes. Pleased with my progress... yes.

But I drop everything I'm working on any time anyone asks me for help. I offer my advice in constructive and friendly ways, with a smile and a pat on the back so that the person who asked knows that I don't think I'm better than they are. I go to school early, giving up sleeping in for an hour and a half, in order to work with people who are struggling.

I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I have been given a gift with this... and I fully appreciate it, even if it means I get shit from the other guys for being a teacher's pet. I am the go-to guy when people have problems, be it in math, blueprint reading, or welding. Not only do I realize that it is my ethical responsibility to help these people, I enjoy it. I really like seeing the expressions that happen when, click, it all falls into place and they suddenly understand something they were struggling with.

I'm not used to being the one struggling... and Gusby... you're my me. Can you flip the switch and put that expression on my face?

Thanks.

Thank you for keeping my life interesting.

Gusby ol' friend, ol' pal, I have to thank you once again.

Thank you for keeping my life interesting. There are, of course, many stories which I could share with you and the world, but I'll focus on just one.

Standing in my garage with my lovely wife, we begin the conversation with a little anecdote. To preface, I had just taken Zeus (and only Zeus) to the mailbox to get the mail.

Kris: Tuck criiiied, and cried and cried when you took Zeus out. Wanted nothing to do with me or his rope.

Me: Yeah, that's not surprising.

Kris: He went nuts trying to get Zeus' scent, but since the whole house smells like Zeus, it was a no-go.

Me: Well, Zeus walked out the door and was therefore gone forever, so he had to take a picture to remember him by, the only way a dog can.

Kris: I think that when Zeus dies, Tuck will have the hardest time with it.

Me: Well, we'll just distract him with a new puppy then.

Kris: You know what would break my heart? If Zeus died while we were out at work or something, and we came home to find Tuck all cuddled up to him.

Me: Heh, yeah, that would suck.

Kris: What would be even more upsetting though is if Tuck started eating his dead body.


Ahh, Gusby, truly you have blessed me with an interesting woman with whom to spend the rest of my life.

Seriously?

Damn, Gusby... you were a little more open with some people about the gifts you handed to them at birth.

Some people, you told them flat out: When you're 3, you'll learn to golf and become one of the most highly paid, famous golfers in the world. But you have to fight racism in Pro Golf to do it.

Another person was told: You will write music that last centuries and is loved by millions. But you'll never hear half of it, because you'll be deaf when you write it.

A third, and this is my favorite, was given: You will dominate Guitar Hero 3 on Expert, becoming one of maybe four or five people in the world who can complete "Through the Fire and Flames" by Dragonforce. But (and you really are a "but" guy, aren't you?) you'll absolutely never get laid, because you'll have to be the world's geekiest controller-modifier.

Seriously, Gusby, if you could just give me a little clue as to what my extraordinary ability is, some little snippet of information that'll set me on the path to greatness, I'd love it.

In the meantime, for those of you with more corporeal bodies who want to see what I'm talking about with the third example of Gusby's sense of humor... check this.

Could you...?

Sup Gusby. How ya been? Good, good. Tell the kids I said hi.

Hey, while I've got you on the line, could you consider making it so that the convicts, uncaught criminals, and drug users/dealers in my school don't kill me?

I'm one of two people in my class of 24 with a spouse.

I'm one of five people in my class without a felony conviction and/or drug rehab under my belt.

Most of these people, for all of their mistakes of the past and faults, seem like pretty decent guys. They're not currently on drugs, and they're keeping the criminal activity to a point where they're not getting busted. I am more than willing to be friendly acquaintences with these folks, as the conversations and stories I hear are just... wow.

Like the one from the guy who was doing his girlfriend during "that time", finished up and went to the bathroom... wiped some nasty off his sack onto his finger... and drew a moustache on his sleeping brother's upper lip. Wow.

There are more, which I may share at a later date... but for this one... Could you please not let them blow me up, burn me, maim me, run me over, or in any other fashion hurt me?

That'd be super.

Greatful Gratefulness

Yes, yes, I know it's spelled greatly, not greatful. But that doesn't flow as nicely with gratefulness, and so here we are.

I have many things in my life to be grateful for, but today I want to extend my appreciation to my network of friends.

First and foremost, I have my best friend Kris. Fun, funny, lovable, loving, etc, etc. There are so many things that I could say about her and how wonderful she is, but I'll keep it succinct with: There is no one else in my life that I appreciate as much as her.

Now, in no other particular ranking, I would like to offer up my list of people with whom I particularly enjoy spending time.

Phil and Jason: Two very entertaining, always-keep-me-on-my-toes people. So much fun to hang out with that we did it on the 12th, 16th, 17th, 19th, and the 25th. That's a lot of hanging, and I've yet to get the point where I say, "Okay guys, thanks for coming... I'm getting sleepy." Drinking, singing, Rockbanding, Guitar Heroing, cards, slots, dinner, The Office... they're just awesome people. Thanks, Gusby, for letting them into our lives... now, could you ask Jay not to beat the everliving hell out of my drum set? Thanks!

Steve and Becka: Neighbors from Blaine... he's a mechanic, she's a personal trainer. Pot-smoking, beer-brewing Steve "Swantanamo Bay" Swanson and his wife have been severely enjoyable to hang with since our first spring in the Blaine house. Bonfires, dinners, poker, hosting parties, vacations... There isn't a whole lot that I wouldn't consider doing with these two at my side. Of course, it helps that they have two children, the same age and grade as my child(ren)... and it helps even more that the kids get along pretty well. You've done yourself proud with them, Gusby... take a bow.

Jen and James (Jimmah!): The meeting of these two phenomenal people is actually a slightly interesting story. The four of us all worked at Capella. Kris and Jen knew each other in passing. They smoked together sometimes. Kris complained about all the time I spent playing video games. Jen reciprocated. They joked that they needed to introduce James and myself. They found out that we were playing the same video game, and decided to schedule a blind date for us. It's been "just the tip" man-boy closeness ever since. It's been near to seven years now that we've been friends, and it's been some of the most enjoyable years of my life. Even though we only get together as a foursome every few months, Jen and Kris speak almost daily, as do James and I... and without his advice, support and "Dude... you fucked up" speeches, my life would have taken a drastically different (and highly less enjoyable) direction.

Sean and Lindy: Ahh, my brother and his wife. The two people that I see perhaps even more often than Phil and Jason, and enjoy immensely. I didn't get along with Sean until... well, until Lindy. Once he started dating her, he started bringing me to parties. Parties where I was introduced to the limits of my drinking and smoking capabilities, and where I should have learned not to combine the two. (I didn't learn that lesson until one night when James had to straddle me to take a leak, because I was passed out/dead on the bathroom floor.) These two have been my constant friends since I was 14, and I am truly, truly grateful that they have not only accepted my choice of wife so readily, but are genuinely fond of spending time with her. See, if it were up to us guys, we'd get together for drinks about every other month. The girls, though, they plan things for us. Dinners, bonfires, and general hanging. That the two of them have become so close is a boon and a blessing. (Except when I learn things about my brother that I just really shouldn't... Wow.)

My parents: We don't hang out anymore, per se, since I moved out... but we do dinner damn near every week, to see each other, catch up on family news, and just spend time together. I didn't realize until S&L moved to Texas (and subsequently moved back) just how important my family was to me. Now, eight days without having gone out to dinner with my folks just seems wrong and ghastly. For all of the support, friendship, advice, shoulders, backs... I could not have asked for better parents.

Gusby: Yes, Gusby is someone I consider to be a fantastic friend. All of the lessons learned, obstacles overcome, gifts and rewards... I would not be who I am without that influence, and I love it. If you'll have me... I'll be your friend too. Even G/U/SB/Y needs someone to lean on sometimes... and Kris tells me that I'm comfortable no matter how you lay on me... so my shoulder should work just fine, if you ever need it.

Thanks Gusby!

Hello again, Gusby!

It hasn't been nearly as long this time, eh? I wonder if you like being personally addressed like this. I have to imagine that you appreciate the time and effort (not that much of it is required to blog, really) that it takes to write to you, since you responded to quickly and succinctly to my last little letter.

I just wanted to take a moment to let you know that I -still- have taken the financial lesson to heart, and to thank you for the boon. I know it's not much, but it's something, and I can promise it will be spent on responsible things. Clothes, food, gas, etc... and not at a casino or whirlwind roadtrip anywhere.

So... thanks. I'll keep up the responsibility thing, so feel free to throw another chunk of cash at me.

-Adam

P.S. School is rocking my socks off! I'm having so much fun, and the fact that I can easily apply my classwork to my future career makes it a helluva lot easier to get up in the mornings and actually go to it. Think you can find a way to let me know how/when I can continue my education into another, perhaps even more exciting field? Welding is kick ass, don't get me wrong, but I know I don't want to do it for the rest of my life. A few years, maybe even five or six, and I'll want to head back for some more education and pick up something new again. Thanks in advance!

Hey God/Univerve/Supreme Being/Yahweh... it's me, and it's been a while.

Hey G/U/SB/Y, been a while since our last little chat. Here's a list of the things I've done that I probably should have avoided.

• Spent money frivolously. You know what I mean. Eating out, playing poker, drinking, smoking, buying crap that I really didn't need.
• Procrastinated on getting my car tuned up. You know, little things like not putting more oil in the car when the little light started blinking at me.
• Avoided getting a job. I don't know what it is, but I'm afraid of joining the workforce, so when I was "looking", it was really only half-assed. Now I don't even look.
• Changed my mind about fighting to help someone who really needs it. I'm just too selfish to put the needs of others before my own desires.

Of course, that's not all I regret, but it's a good start for now. How about we talk about some of the obstacles you've thrown in my path.

• Foreclosed on my house. Now I live in a townhouse without a fence, so my dogs can't run free and I have to share a wall with neighbors.
• Blew my car up. Sure, I know I procrastinated on keeping it in excellent condition, but couldn't I have had a different lesson? I loved that car like it was a member of my family.
• Broke my dog's leg. Honestly now, this one was just uncalled for. He's a puppy, and I have enough monetary issues without having to pay an arm and a leg for his leg.

Again, that's not all but it's a good start. Let's move on to lessons I've learned from these obstacles.

• Don't spend money frivolously. Obvious answer, right? Well, I'm not perfect, but I'm working on it. Please, consider it a lesson learned and give me some fluid income to prove it.
• Take care of your car. Again, pretty obvious, and after losing the best damn car I've ever driven, rest assured that this one has been taken to heart.
• Sometimes you need to focus on your own issues first. Yes, I regret not being willing to help the person who needs it, but my life is pretty hectic right now, and I want to get my own shit straightened out before I take on the added responsibility of another life. I'm working on that, too.
• Get skills. The issue with the whole working thing goes back to the fact that I've never actually had any formal training in, well, anything. Sure, I'm a smart guy (Thanks for that, by the way... I really do appreciate the gift of intelligence that I've been given.), but that doesn't really mean enough on a resume. Job after job, there's been one underlying issue that has made me sabotage the entire deal... I'm not doing work I enjoy. Some people can go to a job they hate, day after day, and continue doing it until their hair falls out. I'm just not one of them. Hence, going back to school. Which ties in with the first bullet, because while I may not have earned the money for it personally, I will have earned the money to pay it back.

I'm not perfect, Gusby, but I'm trying. I'm trying really, really hard. Do you think you could find it in your heart or conscience or astrology or whatever to cut me some slack, give me a break?

I'm not asking for a lottery win, or even a fancy sports car to replace my baby... just an education in a field I enjoy, so that I can wake up each morning without wondering what the hell I'm doing wasting my life in a job I absolutely despise, so I can keep it, get promotions for my hard work, and make a decent enough living to enjoy the quiet, simple life I want to lead.

Personally, I don't think it's too much to ask of you. Please?