Category: Life

• A leopard doesn’t change its spots
• Bad people who do good things are still bad people
• People can and do change temporarily, but the core person remains and will resurface

 

I’ve come to expect less and less from people these days. Friendly greetings are ignored and compliments are shrugged aside. People I once knew and considered friends moved on, and haven’t a moment of time to be a decent person to someone they once considered a friend. People frequently use the excuse that they are too busy to answer an e-mail but I know this to be an awful lie. E-mail and Facebook were supposed to bring us all closer together, but I’ve learned that people just want the ability, but not to actually do it.

Seems to me the answer is just to accept it. If people don’t want to be in touch, or have clearly moved on to be with different people and do different things, that’s where it ends. Not even a friendly greeting should be exchanged after that.

This is a cruel, heartless world and my faith is gone.

In the past week, twice I was invited to speak to people about what I do.

On Thursday, I was invited by a former coworker to speak to his University of Maryland Online Journalism class. So, I got to return to my old stomping grounds and got to see the brand new journalism building, which is amazing. The students all had Macs, which also impressed me. They were all required to get web hosting and get their own domain, which is already a step up from what other ‘established’ bloggers do. If you have a blog about a certain topic or sport, and you are established on the blogosphere, not having your own hosting and/or domain is pathetic, particularly now that journalism students get it themselves.

Anyway, I told the students some things about my sites and showed them how I use WordPress, the same publishing system they’ll be using. I even told them how Twitter can actually be useful, as well as other things about blogging.

The next gig came before the Capitals game on Saturday. Me, the folks from OnFrozenBlog.com and RussianMachineNeverBreaks.com were invited to the Capitals Fan Club’s blogger panel. They asked us questions and engaged us in discussion, and I had a great time. It was certainly the highlight of the day, considering the Capitals lost 4-1.

My grandmother was actually more impressed that I was invited to speak at these places than I was, but I must admit that I had a good time. Perhaps blogging is a true profession, after all.

Very rarely do I look back on a year and give myself credit for a job well done, and 2010 won’t be any different as I’m still far from accomplishing my lifelong goals. However, relative to most other years in the past decade or so, this year wasn’t so bad, but it was extremely different.

I started off with perhaps one of the most important meetings I had with Phil at Gunaxin, when he spent a day teaching me some significantly useful web skills. Had it not been for that, I wouldn’t have been able to get the wheels moving on several projects and I would’ve been further frustrated as I struggled to get answers on how to do some of this stuff.

Then I hit a snag when I lost my job at the end of January. At the time it was  traumatic, but it shouldn’t have been. I hated that place and the people who worked there, and desperately wanted gone. I also needed a long break from the B.S. of everyday life that I’d been living for the previous 12 years.

I caught a break with a few things that made it much easier to be unemployed. Also, I still had plenty to do with my time, such as playing hockey, going to karate, attending Caps games in the press box, selling stuff on Amazon and the main thing: Working on my websites.

A few weeks later, I was offered a job. It was too perfect and too typical at the same time. The quick offer made me feel great for obvious reasons, but it was also a chance to jump right back into the misery of long, awful commutes, long hours of sitting in an office, and virtually no time to enjoy the money I would be making or to spend time on my actual passions.

I almost took it, I almost went, but I knew in my heart it was the wrong decision. I couldn’t keep doing what I knew would make me miserable, though turning the job down didn’t feel good, either. It was the worst I’d felt in two years. But why, really?

You see, during this time, I had confirmed that someone who I thought was a friend had indeed abandoned me for selfish and heartless reasons. That person inched away the moment I expressed emotion over losing my job. It was utterly disgusting what that person did, and as much as I wish I could’ve put it behind me, it just doesn’t work that way sometimes. Now, I finally had something to really be upset about.

I took a long vacation. I went to Phoenix to visit my aunt and uncle, to Seattle to visit my uncle and his friends, and to Nashville to visit a friend. I finally got to go to the Grand Canyon and enjoyed a plane ride, helicopter ride and boat tour. In Phoenix I went to the best Renaissance Festival I’ve ever seen. I saw Kurt Cobain’s memorial park in Seattle, which I found oddly interesting.

When I got back, my hockey team won the championship and I was doing well with Gunaxin. I started score-keeping at the hockey rink which gave me something to do, with little time commitment and no stress.

My father and I drove down to South Carolina to visit my brother and his wife the weekend of my birthday. When I got back, I had a blank slate in front of me, but I knew I couldn’t move on without first closing a door to my past.

I did something I’m not proud of, but calculated and thought out at the same time. It was nothing illegal, nothing harmful, but something that I knew would make it known to this person how I felt. It earned a reaction, and a conversation, one that made me lose sleep and even get sick. I had exposed myself to some of the worst emotional pain I could possibly get. Had I made the mistake worse? Maybe, but at least now I knew I had confronted my problem and made my feelings known. I took the reaction like a shot to the heart, clenched up and tried to tear out the bullet, tried to accept things as they were. But there was no satisfaction, no closure, no win.

I said one last thing, pulled an Ace out of my sleeve, left it on the table and walked away. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was just a last-minute revelation, but I got two final messages from this person, one stating that she had one more thing she wanted to say. I puzzled over it and figured out what it was. I was right.

It was an apology.

Absolute sincere apologies are the most anyone can ask for after suffering great pain at the hands of someone else. It’s not what I originally expected but it’s what I got and it’s what I knew I deserved. I can’t say it’s what I really wanted, but if not that, then what else? It didn’t fully heal me and it’ll still take years for me to fully recover, but I had gotten the closure with this person that I needed. I could finally move on.

Almost immediately after this revelation, I got a job offer, and it was perfect for me. The 4-H Club needed help to relaunch its website. The commute was fine, it allowed me time to relax, it paid well, and didn’t stress me out. I spent the summer working there, and had plenty of time to enjoy the pool and play both ice and roller hockey.

In the fall, when the 4-H job came to an end, I went back to working full time on my websites, on my Amazon sales, and on score-keeping. I took a quick, fun trip to Chicago, and resumed going to Capitals games. The last few months of 2010 passed by quickly.

Considering I made significantly less money in 2010 than in previous years, I still managed to turn a profit, therefore justifying my decision not to take that full time job from a financial standpoint. From a mental health standpoint, I knew immediately it was the right decision.

Now, 2011 is on its way and initial projections tell me I ought to start worrying about a few things ahead of me. But strangely, I’m not worrying. Considering what I’ve been through the last few years, then I can face the challenges that are to come.

Little did I know that three years ago, on Dec. 17, 2007, my life was about to change.

Back in Oct. 2007, my grandfather died. He was the first close family member of mine to pass away. It wasn’t a surprise, he was in poor health, and at 90, it was meant to happen. But when something like that happens, it tends to light a fire under people to live life differently and make major changes. After living in my condo for two years and working at a steady job, things really weren’t changing for me. At the time, I was just playing hockey, going to martial arts and trying to have fun. But I was still bored a lot and wasn’t really focused on anything other than going to work. So I started redecorating my condo, buying window treatments, adding a chandelier, stuff like that.

On Dec. 16., 2007, which was a Sunday night, I had a Screaming Squirrels ice hockey game. My team was doing very well and I was playing very well. After the game, we went to Buffalo Wings and Beer to eat, drink and watch the Redskins game, which was on late. I got a phone call from my French roommate, Abdou. He said the power was out at the condo. While we were talking, I heard the smoke detector go off. He said he was using a candle. I told him to put out the candle and use a flashlight.

I stuck around BWB for a while longer, talking to my friend Mike. I was in no hurry to get home. I think I even went to my dad’s house to watch the rest of the Skins game before heading home. When I got there, it was a complete blackout. It was silent, creepy, and freezing. I had a freezer full of Costco meatballs, wings and other things that I had just gotten, including some pudding and other non-perishables in my trunk that I hadn’t yet removed. Worried that all this food would spoil, I emptied the freezer and brought the meat to my dad’s house, then returned home.

Abdou wasn’t there. He went to the University of Maryland to work for the rest of the night. I bundled up and went to bed.

I woke up around 7 or so. It was still freezing and there was still no power. I went straight to work.

I was in a chipper mood when I arrived due to a certain hope that had been sparked the proceeding Friday at the office holiday party, but soon afterward I got a call from Abdou, who said there was a small fire in one of the adjoining condos and not to panic. I told my boss about it, who then gave me unsolicited advice about condo fires and what to expect, as if he really knew. Five minutes later, Abdou called back and told me it was really, really bad.

I left immediately. I rode the Metro home. I called my mother and father and asked them to get in touch with the insurance company. I saw the damn smoke as I was driving down Cherry Hill Road. The parking lot was closed down so I parked along the fence outside, then ran into the development. There was a ton of commotion going on. I saw my neighbor, who said everything was gone. We hugged for a minute then I went to the scene. Abdou and his friend were already there.

I emailed my boss on my phone with two words in the subject line: ‘It’s gone.’

We hung out for a while, watching it burn down and the fire department spraying tons of water onto it.

A while later, Abdou and I went to a community room in the neighboring apartment complex, where the Red Cross greeted us with tax-exempt gift cards. I also spent a lot of time on the phone, canceling the newspaper, canceling cable (which took the longest), and speaking to my insurance company. State Farm was really helpful, and gave me a cash advance on my claims later that afternoon at their office down the street. The insurance company also got me and Abdou a nice hotel room, right next to the shopping center.

Keep in mind that at this point, I was under the impression that I had lost absolutely everything. How do you start literally from scratch with stuff? I had to order new checks, get a passport, get Abdou another passport (which was far more important considering he needed that to get back home), all that stuff.

I went back to my dad’s house at some point to tell everyone via e-mail what had happened. I read the article about the fire on washingtonpost.com and saw that they had the address wrong, so I e-mailed my former boss and told him. A week later, The Post gave me a couple of very nice cards. I let my hockey team know, and they stepped up for me. I had removed all of my equipment from my car the previous night and had several custom jerseys with my name on them in the condo. Getting all new hockey equipment sounds like fun but any hockey player knows that it’s really a pain since it’s not broken in. But I was really most concerned about the jerseys because those would be hard to replace since the manufacturer only took orders of ten or more, at about $75 each. My martial arts club took care of me. Some of the folks at my job were generous to me. A few family members were very generous. The elementary school kids at a friend’s school took care of me. I had my uncle send me a framed photo of my grandfather dancing with my aunt.

The timing of the fire, relatively speaking, was good. It happened on a Monday morning, when people were either at work or awake and leaving. The worst that happened was that some firefighters got injured, and my neighbor’s cat died. Another cat on the bottom floor was hiding for more than a week before coming out. The morning of the fire, Abdou had gotten home around 4 a.m. and went to sleep, but was awoken by a neighbor when the fire started spreading around 8:45 a.m.

Because of the power outage, the woman who lives across and a floor down from me had lit a candle in her bathroom, then went to work. Apparently, a nearby aerosol can exploded. The chilly wind outside then spread the fire. One of the hydrants had failed and the firemen had a hard time spraying a key spot.

Here’s what I had on me: My leather jacket, my clothes. My iPod, which was really important because it had all my important data (and music) on it. My phone, my gym clothes. Costco Pudding in my car, and meat in my dad’s freezer. My car (the one thing I would’ve preferred to lose. Had it still been parked in my space, it’s likely the fire engine would’ve rammed it out of the way).

That evening, I went shopping. I saw a bunch of people from the condos at Target, and I also when to Kohl’s. I kept running into neighbors and other people I knew. I met a coworker who brought my cell phone recharger back to me (I had brought it to work and left it there when I left). I told Kohl’s about the fire and they gave me the 30% off of the coupon I had in my house. I used a bunch of my Red Cross money to get things I needed immediately. The managers Kohl’s knew me by first name after several trips there.

Later, Abdou and I met in the hotel. It was a nice place, with a fireplace of all things, two rooms, and a foldout bed. Abdou had a house guest coming and his plans weren’t really affected by the living situation.

I kept getting phone calls the rest of the evenings. Some people I know were flipping out about it like it was the worst thing ever, others were just asking me what happened. Personally, I was doing fine. If anything, it was exciting. Major change. Something new. Something to deal with, to focus on. A chance to start from scratch instead of being bored and hanging up window treatments.

Little did I know that the worst nightmare of my life was on the way, disguised as what I thought was the major positive change I needed.

I spent the next week compiling a list of things I owned, dealing with insurance and shopping. Kohl’s was great, as was Target. Even better: I could walk there from my hotel, which was literally next door.

It wasn’t until Friday when I was allowed back into the condo. I was probably the happiest of all my neighbors, because that’s when I learned that not everything was gone. Sure, everything was either burnt, trashed or soaking wet from being exposed to the elements for five days, but I was finding things I needed.

I live on the top floor, and the roof had obviously collapsed. The fire destroyed my den with my Ethiopian artwork, destroyed everything but a brass pot in my living room, destroyed my kitchen, but everything else was dirty and soaking wet. The ceiling was all over the floor. I called Abdou and had him come straight over. He found the important things, like his passport. Everything in his closet was just wet and needed washed.

As for me, I managed to save several items, particularly the items that I really wanted, like a nice mirror that I had bought at the Renaissance Festival. I found my birth certificate and other things that would’ve been a pain to replace. I saved my hockey jerseys and skates, but other than that I had to buy all new equipment. I found my cds, which my mother and brother cleaned, though I had all my music saved. My computer was toast (but later my friend had managed to save everything on the hard drive). Then, I found my new camera, which was saved by its bulky case (my mother replaced the case for me with the same exact case). I took a video.

I spent Friday and Saturday salvaging things, on my hands and knees digging through broken glass and rubble. People were there separating the personal items from the condo parts and dumping it into a huge trash bin. A couple of my hockey teammates helped me take some furniture back home. Though the wood was warped from the water, I wanted to get into it later to see what I could save.

For some reason, my neighbors on the top floor hadn’t tried to salvage as much as I had. Perhaps they had better insurance or didn’t want to bother, but there was a lot of perfectly good stuff up there that I’m sure was stolen. In fact, I saw a worker digging through their drawers, tossing out pills. Also, I believe that some stuff was stolen from me, because a bunch of rolled coins – maybe $50 worth – and some sunglasses (not my Oakley’s, fortunately) weren’t on my dresser, though related items were there.

That Sunday, my neighbors and I were invited to the fire department. Another apartment fire happened nearby so we weren’t the only ones getting freebies. The fire department had a bunch of stuff for us to dig through, and gave us a Target gift card. News reporters were at the fire department and someone from Channel 9 interviewed me, and I was on the news for a couple of seconds. P.G. County also got us a Macy’s gift card, which we had to go to Upper Marlboro to receive. Anyone who lives in Beltsville knows that it’s a pain to get to Upper Marlboro, and I was a bit ticked that they made us drive all the way out there to get it. Sure, it was nice, but they literally made me spend an entire afternoon going out there.

Another relatively good thing about the timing of the fire was that people were extremely generous for Christmas/holiday reasons, as well as humanitarian. I wondered if how things would’ve been different had it happened in the middle of the summer when everyone was on vacation.

Work allowed me to take the week off, and I was fortunate to have the following week off anyway for the holidays. I went in on Monday to do a few things, but then went back to the hotel. I met with a real estate lady who showed my a few options. I could’ve picked a condo in College Park near the Metro, a three bedroom, three bathroom townhouse which was lousy, or a house in Calverton.

I picked the house. They gave me rental furniture (some of which I ended up buying myself). It was kind of an old house and the bathrooms didn’t have outlets. But it had four bedrooms, and 2.5 bathrooms, which was great because I had a new roommate coming in Feb. before Abdou left.

After the fire, with new hockey equipment and harder competition (our team moved up a level), my hockey game tanked and hasn’t recovered. I’ve scored more goals in a season before that than I’ve scored in the seasons combined since the fire. Sure, the new equipment didn’t help, and my 30s don’t help, but something since the fire just snatched a couple of steps from my game.

I kept returning to the condo to take photos. That January it had snowed, and my entire home was layered with it. It was clear that construction wasn’t going to start until it warmed up. It would take 11 months, and I would be back home in November of 2008. In the meantime, a few other family members died. My cat died. Work was awful. I took some time off but it didn’t help. Everything was caving in on me.

The fire gave me something to focus my energy on. I had to buy new stuff. I had to take care of my roommates, take care of the rental house, throw some parties, pick out stuff for the rebuilt condo, redecorate yet again, and move back. That was important and a necessary distraction for me.

But during this entire time, starting from mid-December, 2007 (the weekend of the fire), I was dealing with a certain person who came into my life, who turned out to be a problem thousands of times worse than mourning the death of my grandfather or losing my home. It was pain I had never felt and it nearly suffocated and burned me to death like the cat in the Cherry Glen fire on Dec. 17, 2007.

I got an apology from this person, back in May, two and a half years after the nightmare began. It was the most I could ask for.

About seven months later, exactly three years after the fire, I can honestly say that I am still recovering from what happened. After four years, it will be better. Five, even better. Only time can really heal this.

And that’s where I stand, three years after the fire.

Read about even worse but related experience here.