Easy come, easy go . . .

Well, the condo is gone. I've decided that I like my job, although it pays, well, a not-for-profit education salary, but since I intend to be here for a while, cannot afford the condo. I am unwilling to give up "living" my life in order to own property.

In addition, with personal events of late, I am not prepared to not be able to continue to work on whatever they may produce due to a lack of expendable funds.

So, renting in South Beach I stay. Continuing to fight for parking will prove irritating, I have no doubt, but I have 'established' myself there and have a comfort level. Why tinker if it isn't broken, right? We'll see . . .

So much to say, so much to lose

There is SO much I have to write today but alas, it is swirling around in my head right now, giving me a migraine. And then there's the fact that if the information is put into the wrong hands, the risk of loss is immeasurable. Do I dare put this on paper for myself to see and re-examine? So much has happened. I don't know who is writing the script that is my life, but he should be taken out back and beaten! I can't figure out if it's a comedy or a tragedy! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! What I know is that life seems quite unfair. Why, when the protagonist finally gets his act together, seems to know what he wants and is headed down the right track to accomplishing that, does a new character, who has been longed for seemingly forever, and who fits so perfectly into that desired structure, enter, only to say "I'm perfect except for one itty bitty detail"? Aaaaaaaah, details. And when it's a detail such as this, is it a 'problem' or merely a 'challenge'? And if it's a 'challenge' is the new character as prepared to face it as the protagonist, or does he see it as a 'problem' and will he simply run? Oh how one itty bitty detail can ruin what would otherwise be mere perfection! So for now, I trudge on, trying to put the pieces together, hoping beyond hope that it will work out in my favor . . .

I found my dream house!

Well, not really, but after a long and grueling home search, beginning back in January, I finally made an offer on a condo in Wilton Manors (Ft. Lauderdale) on Wednesday. After a number of back & forths, noon today brought a final agreement and I am soon to become a homeowner. With a goal of my 30th birthday, I will be two days short, closing two days after the big 30. So much to do in the meantime. If 30 doesn't kill me, this very well may . . .

Life after the storm

It would seem that after two years and a number of hurricanes, I'd be used to the South Florida weather and these lovely storms. Yet, each new one brings a series of inexplicable uprisings.

Although my office in Ft. Lauderdale was open for business yesterday, living in S0uth Beach dictated that I not drive up. Fortunately, I had brought my laptop home Monday night and was able to do work at home. The afternoon brought one of the famous Palace Hurricane Parties, continuing from Monday night's festivities. I believe that I have been added to Mrs. Astor's "Gang of Twelve" and find that fun & exciting. I do however feel that I am more on the outskirts of that group and not truly "in" the gang. Sometimes I think that's ok and other times, not so much. At any rate, The Palce did not fail us and proved once again that anything can and will happen there, with or without the forces of Mother Nature as is evidenced by . . .

This morning when I spoke to my favorite Puerto Rican and he informed me that he would no longer be going out with me because every time he does, he gets involved in drama. For some reason it's my fault that he decided The Palace would be a good idea for him yesterday. I reminded him of my lack of involvement, as I was a good boy and have been lately. I think that is part of the problem. It's very difficult to have morals and live in South Beach. Ahh, the duality of it all!

I find myself sitting and staring at a computer screen pondering what my next move is. Is it time for a change? How drastic? Have I lied to myself? Have I created thoughts in my mind that don't really exist? Damnit when the brain goes into overdrive! While this writing is starting to prove somewhat therapeutic, I wonder if it only perpetuates the overactivity of the brain waves. And why do we express ourselves in a forum for all to see? Hmmmmmmmmm.

In the meantime, happy trails to the boys heading back up north and hoping you'll be back soon!

My First Time

Gotta get my mind out of the gutter! I meant my first time posting on my new blogspot. Thank you, Mrs. Astor for getting me hooked on this crap! More importantly, thanks for becoming a new friend! Time to go look at some real estate. Until my next posting . . .