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Moments

I had some alone time with Ava yesterday. This doesn’t happen often, since she’s still more or less glued to Nikki’s side most of the time, but that’s bound to start changing. Until now, I haven’t felt too much of a real emotional response from Ava apart from her smiling when she sees me. I couldn’t possibly love her any more than I already do, but I think she’s been too young to reflect that back to me. That feeling changed yesterday as I fed her baby food. She ate the food steadily, not making nearly the mess she usually makes, until it was all gone. She stared at me intently throughout, and for the first time, I felt that recognition, that connection. When Nikki got back from her store run, I told her we had “moments.” As I think back to when Gia was this age, I remember a similar experience. I loved Gia intensely, of course, but she was really just this needy baby, albeit an incredibly cute one. I start to feel bad, like there’s some overwhelming, deep connection I’m missing, until I remind myself that she’s really just a baby, despite the fact that she can look right through you sometimes. Yesterday was one of those times. I look forward to many more.

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Nobody’s Market

So I decided to refinance. My original arrangement on the first home purchase was a ‘piggy-back’ loan. That’s two loans, an ‘80-20,’ which totals 100, or 100%, meaning total financing. I’m sure this is common knowledge to most people who have gone through this, but to me, this was all new territory. For those of us not blessed with much, if any, savings, this is one popular method to compensate for closing costs. In fact, I ‘overfinanced,’ which means the total of both loans came to roughly 105% of the selling price of the house, which provided a little extra cash. There was no avoiding having to put money down. For this, I had to take out the maximum loan amount on my 401k. It took me six solid years to save enough in that account to be able to do any of this. In effect, that’s yet another loan. Good debt, bad debt, whatever, I’m in debt up to my eyeballs, but my family has a house. That’s the important thing. Enough history.

Closing on the refi took all of 15 minutes. The closing attorney came to my house. Sign here, initial here, sign here, etc. Nice enough guy. He represents over 300 banks. We talked a bit about the real estate market. He said that right now, “It’s nobody’s market.” Not even a buyer’s market. Nobody’s doing anything. He blames the government. He said something about the situation being fixable, all it would take would be for the government to raise interest rates, or something. I have no idea. I know we’re at war, gas prices are through the roof, and the president’s alienated virtually everybody. I know that house prices aren’t skyrocketing like the were a year ago. They’re even dropping in some areas, but that had to happen. Things were way out of control. Unfortunately, it’s more than a gold rush mentality that’s causing the market to ‘correct itself.’ There’s a war going on. That fact doesn’t seem to find its way into nearly enough conversations.

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Terrible Two

The general consensus is that Gia is going through THAT phase. It’s all about defiance. “No!!” Yesterday, I said to her, “Gia, I swore I’d never become this kind of parent.” I said this as I carried her over my shoulder to her room. I’ve resolved to be consistent with this. Every time she acts up like that, that’s where she’s going to go. She can’t seem to contain herself. She has some kind of fixation with my ears. “Nice ee-uhhs, Daddy,” she says. Then she proceeds to attempt to rip them off of my head. She smiles and growls as she does this. She also does it to Nikki and Ava. We have to watch her like a hawk. She knows when we’re not watching. That’s usually about the time Ava starts shrieking. There’s pinching, biting, kicking, the works. I’m hoping she’s just being playful and doesn’t know her own strength, but I have to say, it looks like she’s trying to inflict bodily harm. Maybe she’ll get tired of the consequences of her actions. We’ve got one more month before preschool begins, so she needs to get it together pronto. Now I know exactly what Nikki means when she says she’s tired of hearing her own voice. More and more time is spent being the disciplinarian, and it is really exhausting. She’s just lucky she’s so cute. Unfortunately, she knows it. Ava hasn’t yet picked up that attitude. She’s still too young, but considering how quickly she’s advancing, those days probably aren’t far off for her. Doomsday is coming. I can feel it.

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How to Learn to Write and Achieve Greater Success

I came across a good article here on improving speaking skills. It struck a chord with me, partly because I’m plagued by some people who have awful presentation skills. If I hear one more “you know,” they might have to cart me away in a straitjacket.

The article does, however, resonate with me primarily because it reminds me of my days as a writing tutor at the local community college. After I graduated with my B.A. in English, I managed to get this part-time gig in the ‘Writing Center.’ That’s the place they sent students who couldn’t write. By the time they showed up, the Writing Center was about the last place any of them wanted to be. They were utterly convinced that writing was not something they could ever do. I knew that was nonsense. One student in particular, this nice Israeli kid, couldn’t even get graded. I read some samples, and I could see why. His writing barely sounded like a first grade English primer. He could, however, talk. Boy, could he ever talk. He was, in fact, very eloquent. He had a thick accent, but he spoke better English than most Americans. I told him to go home and record himself talking, preferably about the subject the professor was instructing him to write about, then simply transcribe his own words. Shortly thereafter, he received an A.

The solution seemed so simple. Perhaps it was because I had done quite a bit of recording as a musician, so the concept came naturally to me. The bottom line was that it worked. I witnessed someone go from being ungradable to getting straight A’s (in writing, at least).

To this day, it amazes me when people who are perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation insist that they cannot write. Somewhere along the line, they lost the ability to make the connection between speaking and writing. I’ve read that the same can be said for people who, like myself, claim they cannot draw. They haven’t made the connection between drawing and seeing. I’m still working on that one. Whatever the case may be, writing is a crucial skill. It gets respect. People acknowledge it. It’s what got me through college without having to study very hard, especially when it came to subjects I had little or no interest in. The fact that I was able to put sentences together apparently made all the difference to my professors, including my English professors. I always had a really hard time with assigned reading. I read plenty, but never what I was told to read. I’d read some of the Cliff’s Notes, write a paper on whatever book, get a good grade, then go to the library and take out something that actually interested me. Point is, good writing even fooled my English teachers. That should tell you something. If you can speak and write well, people assume you know what you’re talking about. They want to believe that, so they will believe that, until you do something drastic to prove them wrong. Even then, they might still refuse to believe any differently. The odds are in your favor if you take the time to develop your writing skills. If you can speak, you’re already almost there.

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Bloat

This is what it generally looks like in front of me while I’m working.

My Office Desk Panography

Very exciting. Two monitors. That tends to freak people out. They get dizzy when I start moving things from one monitor to the other. It can be pretty amusing. It’s also a good way to get rid of people I don’t want hovering over my shoulder. It amazes me how most people can’t comprehend the usefulness of having the dual monitor setup. I think most people are comfortable doing the minimum amount of work (there’s that ‘work’ word again) possible. I think they’re comfortable afflicting themselves with Carpal Tunnel Syndrome as well, considering how few people use an ergonomic keyboard these days. I’d be a cripple by now if I hadn’t been using one all these years. I really want to learn the Dvorak Keyboard Layout. Turns out we’re all using an antiquated keyboard layout, one that was intentionally designed to slow us down back in the days when typewriters had all sorts of mechanical stuff going on which wouldn’t work right if you typed too fast.

On the plus side, it is Friday. I’m sitting here trying to digest the liter and a half of water I just drank too fast. It hurts. I’m hoping the bloat subsides within the next hour so I can move towards the door. I might just have to float myself out of here.

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Business

Still busy. Maybe the word ‘business’ is partly to blame. It’s blatantly saying “be busy.” Is that really a necessity? Progress is made when people actually have time to reflect on their current situation, then formulate ways to improve things. When we say we’re really busy, all too often we’re saying that we’re working too hard, or too much. Are we accomplishing anything other than paying bills (hopefully)? Are we securing any sort of future other than one in which we continue to participate in the vicious cycle of working somewhere we’re not happy in order to barely make ends meet? Enough of this work and business nonsense. I believe that in order to be truly succesful, you need to enjoy what you’re doing. If you enjoy what you’re doing, it ceases to be work. So, being successful means you run around with a moronic smile on your face all the time, but it’s a genuine smile, because you really are happy and enjoying yourself. That’s bound to piss a lot of people off. I know how I feel when I see someone running around with a moronic smile. I say, “What a moron.” I tend towards thinking that the one thing preventing me from running around smiling all the time is my ability to think. A nice elective lobotomy could be just the thing for that. Alcohol certainly helps, but it wears off. At least with a lobotomy, I could very well wake up in the morning smiling. That would be a first. I’ve never been much of a morning person. I probably wouldn’t do much writing if I had a lobotomy, and I probably wouldn’t be very interested in computer stuff. I wouldn’t be of much use at my job anymore. Nikki would probably miss some of our conversations, but then again, she’s pretty good at holding conversations with the kids, so I should still fit in just fine. It wouldn’t be safe to allow me to drive anymore, so I’d have to be chauffered around. As I prepare to embark on my hour commute home, this concept sounds better by the minute.

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Busy

Too busy. If I can’t make or find time for a blog entry, that’s too busy. I’ve resolved to be consistent with my writing, and I’ve been doing OK, but still I’ve been missing days. If I’m that busy, so busy that I can’t even write a few lines, there’s a deeper issue. That means I don’t even have time to think. I’m multitasking myself out of the picture. It’s the ‘constant partial inattention,’ or ‘attention,’ depending on whether you’re of the ‘glass is half full or half empty’ variety. I can actually sense this state of partial attention. It’s like skimming over everything around me, people, conversations, projects, whatever I happen to be looking at is on the way to looking at something else, and when I get to the next thing, I’m already moving on. It’s too easy to allow this to be the norm. It might be exhausting, but I can’t sit still long enough to acknowledge that. This definitely feels like working harder, not smarter. Change is coming. I’ll make it happen, even if my impatient nature forces me to believe it’s not happening fast enough. It’s all a means to an end.

Looks like the heatwave is over. It culminated in a series of thunderstorms last night. I wanted to drive down to the beach to watch the fireworks, but it was late and we needed sleep. You could tell that’s where the action was, just beyond the tree line over the horizon. Gia woke up, but not for long. I’m glad about that. Thunderstorms used to scare the hell out of me when I was a kid. She’s much more resilient than I ever was. She says she gets scared about some things, but we can’t figure out what those things are. She’ll be watching Sesame Street, then out of nowhere, she’ll be standing in the hallway, saying “SKAY-UHHD.” Could be she’s just looking for attention, though I have to say, Sesame Street can be terrifying at times.

I think I really like this panography thing, so I decided to give it a try. Here’s a taste of what it looks like behind me while I’m working…

My Office Panography

Note the hanging suit jacket. I needed a jacket once while I was at work, and I heard somewhere that it’s a good idea to have one handy, so there it is. That was almost three years ago, and I haven’t needed it since. It’s a nice conversation piece.

I have a nicer jacket hanging in the back of my car. My father-in-law said it’s a must if you’re in real estate. You never know when one of those deals might spring up. I think he travels with multiple cleaned-and-pressed suits in the back of his vehicle. I haven’t advanced that far yet.

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Heatwave

It’s hot. I slept on the floor in Gia’s room last night, under the new ceiling fan Nikki’s dad installed for us. There should be one in our room tonight. We have our air conditioner sitting in the garage. I haven’t put it in the window yet, and we haven’t really needed it. If this heat continues, I might have to bite the bullet. The kids are cranky, hence, we’re cranky. We went out to the North Fork yesterday and had lunch at the Seafood Barge, a decent restaurant on the Peconic Bay. It was nice. The ride there and back, however, was anything but. We had a nice time for the few minutes the kids weren’t screaming their heads off. Apart from that, I hardly had any weekend. The LIBOR orientation class on Saturday was an all day thing. It was informative, but not very entertaining. I’d probably feel differently if I had a couple of real estate deals under my belt, but all in good time. It’s always nice to be reminded of just how much you don’t know. At least there was air conditioning. There was also ‘official’ confirmation of the fact that the market is changing. I suppose when the the former president of LIBOR who also owns a brokerage and manages a ton of agents says that the market is changing, there must be something to it. Regardless, people will never stop buying and selling property. We hope.

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Another Friday

It’s yet another Friday. This one finds us at the front end of a heatwave, supposedly. It’s pretty steamy out there right now, at least here at work. I hear the beaches are contaminated. All the rain we had caused some waste runoff. Yet another one of the disadvantages to not living somewhere like, say, Bermuda, not that I’ve ever been there, so I can’t say for sure. I’ll be spending all day tomorrow in my New Agent Orientation class. It’s a requirement for LIBOR membership, which is the local board of realtors. I’m hoping to find out exactly what this all means for me tomorrow. I’m hoping to find out something, anything, to justify my spending all day on a Saturday in some class somewhere I don’t want to be. Plenty of things I’d rather be doing, especially after an extremely busy week at work. I should remind myself that some people actually do this real estate thing full time.

I’m finishing up my water before hitting the road. The metallic taste is still lingering. It’s annoying, but bearable. It might be time to mix things up a bit and start incorporating some iced tea into the agenda.

My home computer is acting up. I had a triple-boot configuration going. I think it proved to be just a little too much at one time. I discussed the situation with my techie friends at work, and they were scratching their heads. I have a way of making them do that. Somehow, I manage to discover new and exciting ways to make computers stop working. At least, I do that to my home computer. I’m pretty good at keeping my computer at work up and running despite endless adversity. The problem is, my home computer is the one I really care about. I’ll obsess over it until I fix it. Until then, it becomes a Zen exercise for me not to allow it to interfere with my life. I didn’t lose sleep over it last night, so there is progress being made. I’m pretty sure I have a corrupt Master Boot Record. Story of my life.

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Stolen

Got in my car this morning, turned on the ignition, and was met with static from the radio. I looked up to see my satellite receiver missing. My fault. Shouldn’t have left the door open, and I should have parked in the driveway instead of half on the front lawn, half on the street like I’ve been doing. Looks like they also snagged a jar of change I had floating around the back seat. At least they closed the door and didn’t take anything else, not that there was much of value in there apart from the receiver and the change.

Nikki suggested I go to Starbuck’s, which I did. The Venti Black Eye worked great. I reminded myself that I still have a ton of CD’s in my car which I haven’t listened to since I got the satellite. So I blasted Slipknot down the L.I.E. Luckily, traffic wasn’t bad, otherwise I’d have had to switch to John Coltrane.

It was probably some neighborhood kids, but who knows. They’ll probably trade the unit in for some crack. I think they got about $1.25 in quarters I had in the change tray up front too. I do appreciate that they closed the door and all. I’m kind of surprised we didn’t hear them. So much for taking the rural neighborhood for granted. It’s one of those in-between neighborhoods on the North Shore, just a little too far from the city to attract the Manhattan business commuter crowd, and too far from the North Fork to attract the second-home farmland and wine country enthusiasts. So for now, we’re stuck in the middle, until we can afford to move in either direction. Looks like it’s time to set up a punk detection system.

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