<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Fri, 24 Feb 2012 14:27:58 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>Aaron Sorkin</category><category>unemployed</category><category>atari</category><category>movies</category><category>books</category><category>sand</category><category>death</category><category>stuff</category><category>unlucky</category><category>pros and cons</category><category>shopping</category><category>films</category><category>debate</category><category>vampire</category><category>anxiety</category><category>town v. city</category><category>job</category><category>nineteen</category><category>wrap-up</category><category>girls</category><category>Rolling Stones</category><category>hermit</category><category>ocd</category><category>youth</category><category>anger</category><category>sociopaths</category><category>redux</category><category>workplace</category><category>work</category><category>cars</category><category>weather</category><category>facebook</category><category>state schools</category><category>drama</category><category>reading</category><category>secrets</category><category>waves</category><category>broken technology</category><category>talk</category><category>God</category><category>money and you don't even know it</category><category>sunburn</category><category>altered state of consciousness</category><category>rave</category><category>normal</category><category>junk</category><category>ideas</category><category>luck</category><category>soul-sucking</category><category>online</category><category>reading and searching</category><category>shorts</category><category>interview</category><category>cold</category><category>romantics</category><category>dessert</category><category>holidays</category><category>countries</category><category>unemployment</category><category>The Scottish Play</category><category>grunge</category><category>sick</category><category>cure</category><category>blogging</category><category>low socioeconomic</category><category>cooking</category><category>moving</category><category>oregon</category><category>technology</category><category>milestone</category><category>Golden Globes</category><category>talking</category><category>Mother Love Bone</category><category>short but sweet</category><category>everyone else is doing it</category><category>sleep</category><category>lazy</category><category>saving money</category><category>blue collar</category><category>The 1990s</category><category>grown up</category><category>new year</category><category>why bother</category><category>learning</category><category>teaching</category><category>barter</category><category>recovery</category><category>roadtrips</category><category>looking back</category><category>90s</category><category>ramble on</category><category>old me</category><category>real life</category><category>bills</category><category>titles</category><category>music</category><category>Elmwood</category><category>fashion</category><category>depressed</category><category>literature</category><category>emotionally available</category><category>twitter</category><category>portland</category><category>pervs</category><category>film</category><category>anal retentive</category><category>social media</category><category>annoying</category><category>writing</category><category>growing</category><category>nostalgia</category><category>sick of this</category><category>cancer</category><category>beer</category><category>trips</category><category>tired</category><category>stress-free</category><category>kryptonite</category><category>The Best Place</category><category>bad mood</category><category>oscars</category><category>society</category><category>family</category><category>Buffalo</category><category>sun</category><category>unhappiness</category><category>Canada</category><category>ghosts</category><category>cities</category><category>rude</category><category>blogs</category><category>exercise</category><category>old-age</category><category>TV</category><category>niagara falls</category><category>addicts</category><category>video games</category><category>rehab</category><category>dream</category><category>older</category><category>school</category><category>drinking</category><category>superstitious</category><category>boring</category><category>ravers</category><category>edit</category><category>how did that elephant get in the room?</category><category>plan</category><category>complaining</category><category>busy</category><category>whine with that cheese</category><category>fun</category><category>stories</category><category>sadness</category><category>playing cards</category><category>2011</category><category>loud</category><category>organization</category><category>youths</category><category>winter</category><category>best laid plans</category><category>help</category><category>moody</category><category>younger</category><category>memories</category><category>bullet-points</category><category>towns</category><category>crime</category><category>internet</category><category>gumption</category><category>age</category><category>Shakespeare</category><category>driving</category><category>price rite</category><category>albums</category><category>car</category><category>friends</category><category>restaurants</category><category>runaway</category><category>mirrors</category><category>sharing</category><category>women</category><category>children</category><category>me</category><category>originality</category><category>chisels</category><category>birthday</category><category>bad luck</category><category>stress</category><category>hoarder</category><category>vacation</category><category>bars</category><category>indie rock</category><category>younger me</category><category>first</category><category>groceries</category><category>spring cleaning</category><category>television</category><category>ncaa</category><category>time</category><category>life</category><category>listening</category><category>uniqueness</category><category>pacific northwest</category><category>overweight</category><category>jobs</category><category>blah</category><category>religion</category><category>seattle</category><category>judging</category><category>crappy</category><category>harry chapin</category><category>snow</category><category>knock on wood</category><category>reasons</category><category>medicine</category><category>money</category><title>My View From Here</title><description /><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>169</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/chazview" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="blogspot/chazview" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-7958897792412223221</guid><pubDate>Fri, 24 Feb 2012 14:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-02-24T06:27:58.792-08:00</atom:updated><title>Eulogy</title><description>I needed to take a few days to compose myself before writing this. It's sad to say, but I have half-written this in my head months before my best girl passed away. She was sick for a long time, but we kept fighting. We kept paying trained professionals to run tests and diagnose her ailments. It seemed as though it was something different each time she would go in for a check-up. But we kept fighting. The last half of her life with me was a bumpy road, to say the least. She would shake and shit at the drop of a hat. And she hated the Buffalo winters. Some cold days she would almost refuse to leave her home. But we fought. We were a good team, she and I. But at one point she had had enough. We said our goodbyes and then she was gone. Forever. It's going to be hard to go on without her, but I will push on. It's what she'd want me to do. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Farewell, Blue Lady. I will miss you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I first met you, you reminded me of my very first teenage love. You were so similar, sometimes I thought I was still inside her when I was inside you. I know you knew. I know you knew I was thinking about that &lt;i&gt;other&lt;/i&gt; girl. But you didn't seem to mind. You would drive me around my old stomping grounds and play Nirvana and all the rest of the great grunge music I love just like she used to do. We would drive around and I would reminisce about the old days. I will miss those rides we used to take. Remember how everyone thought you were the police? It was usually at night when they couldn't see you very well, but people would always slow down because they just weren't quite sure. Then we'd go flying past and I bet they felt like idiots! Good times. But then you started to get old and you started to get sick. The first time I noticed was when you refused to drive the speed limit on the highway. You never had any problems with it before, then suddenly you would shake and grunt and sputter. Then you refused to warm to my touch. I would talk to you and push your your buttons just the way I always did, but nothing would work. I would hydrate you and feed you, but still nothing. I got used to providing enough heat for both of us. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The trips to get tests done and have procedures completed just got to be too much. For both of us. I think you had given up &lt;i&gt;way&lt;/i&gt; before I did, but I just didn't hear you. I just didn't want to let you go. But now you're in a better place. The last ride we took together was a bitter sweet one. I was glad it was a mild winter day and it wasn't too cold for you. And you knew where we were going. But you didn't say a word and you didn't complain. You just drove silently. I was probably more nervous than you were! But in the end everything worked out, didn't it? We said our goodbyes and off you went. I swore I wouldn't cry. And I won't. I swear i won't!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You'll be happy for me. I found someone new. I know you always wanted to be with someone younger than you. I didn't want to hear it when we were still together, but I can see where you were coming from now! She's so smooth and quiet. She's doesn't know all my eccentricities like you did, but she'll learn. We'll be good together. I hope you don't mind that I call her my &lt;i&gt;new&lt;/i&gt; Blue Lady. If you're watching over me as I hope you are, take a look at a picture I took of my new girl:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KKFRsrnduA4/T0eeG4iO27I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3y_sfb45KH4/s1600/blue-lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="238" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KKFRsrnduA4/T0eeG4iO27I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3y_sfb45KH4/s320/blue-lady.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Farewell, Blue Lady. I will miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-7958897792412223221?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/02/eulogy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KKFRsrnduA4/T0eeG4iO27I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3y_sfb45KH4/s72-c/blue-lady.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-9020934973027551350</guid><pubDate>Tue, 14 Feb 2012 21:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-02-14T14:49:00.245-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">bills</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">cars</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">work</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">anxiety</category><title>New Car Anxiety</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I'm going to look at new (to me) used cars. The Blue Lady (my 2001 Mercury Sable) didn't pass her inspection last month and she's not worth the $600+ it will cost to repair her.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;It's time to put her down.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;I'm excited to have a car of my own again and I'm sure my wife would love having her car back again. But I'm nervous. If you've read any of my blog posts in the past year you know that I am not in the best financial situation. A new car (even a used one) means &lt;i&gt;another&lt;/i&gt; monthly bill. Sure, I'll use a bit of my tax refund as a down payment and I'll trade in The Blue Lady to cut down on what the new car will cost, but I'm still going to have to pay every month for it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;The other thing is I haven't talked to my boss in over a month. Strike that. &lt;i&gt;My boss hasn&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;'t spoken to me in over a month. &lt;/i&gt; I've sent her emails but she doesn't respond or answer my questions. She sends emails to my coworkers and I, but she never responds to MY emails. This stresses me out. Is she purposely avoiding my questions? Is she going to let me go? Are my hours going to be cut even more? Is this all in my head? Am I just being pessimistic? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;If I lose my job I am SCREWED. Especially if I accrue &lt;i&gt;another &lt;/i&gt;bill. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oh my God I hate being a grown up. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;So suffice it to say I'm a bit stressed. I have some anxiety going on over here.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;Some good news would be VERY welcome right about now. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-9020934973027551350?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/02/new-car-anxiety.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-2241993186102085841</guid><pubDate>Thu, 02 Feb 2012 15:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-02-02T07:55:57.760-08:00</atom:updated><title>Coffee Scents and Caffeine Dreams</title><description>The sense of smell is a powerful thing, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;
Just a small whiff of something can bring you right back to another place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I walked past the coffee beans in the market two days ago and I was immediately transported back to my days as a barista. I remembered the evenings of grinding coffee and filling coffee filters and drinking copious amounts of the evil stuff. At one coffeehouse in particular one of the end-of-shift duties was to grind the beans into portion-controlled bags to make it easier for the next shift to quickly brew coffee. The house blend was a combination of Mexican and Colombian beans. This blend made for the perfect cup of coffee in my opinion. It was not too bitter that you needed to cut it with hot water or milk, but it was also strong enough that you knew what you were drinking. It was smooth and strong. Kinda like me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hadn't thought about working at the coffeehouse in years. I had almost forgotten about it. It was a tiny little place in shopping mall that time forgot, tucked between towering office buildings. The owner used to roast the beans right in the shop. You could smell the aromas for blocks and blocks. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just when I thought I was finished with the scent-induced flashbacks, I was hit again. Yesterday I picked my wife up from the caffe and as soon as she sat in the car, I was sent back to my days behind the bar. Certain places have certain scents, am I right? This smell was undeniable. If it was the other way around and she had picked me up somewhere, I still would have known where she had been for the last three hours. I still would have remembered all of the cafe mochas I made, topped with home-made whipped cream. I still would have thought about that one customer who used to spend hours in the caffe and who never drank coffee. He only ever wanted fresh brewed ice tea. He would spend afternoons there conducting business and flirting with the female baristas I worked with. Some weekend evenings he would bring his dates to the caffe just to show off that everyone knew him and that he got his drinks for free. Then he would spend the rest of the evening talking the poor girl's ear off. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have never experienced any other smells that reminded me of any other past jobs before. Maybe it's just coffee that does that to me. Maybe because I worked in so many coffee shops and cafes and coffeehouses, the caffeine scents just stick with me. I rarely visit coffee shops any more. After I lost my last barista gig, I stopped going. It was too hard for me. I know I can do so much better than who ever is behind the counter. I know I could create a better quality product and I know I could create a better atmosphere for the customers. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Any time I visit a locally owned shop, I know for a fact I could do it all better. I also stopped drinking coffee, so I really have no reason to step foot into a cafe. Maybe that's why coffee sets off my flashbacks like it does. I have been separated from it for so long that it's calling me back. It misses me. And if I'm honest, I miss it too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-2241993186102085841?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/02/coffee-scents-and-caffeine-dreams.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-8924972974228793891</guid><pubDate>Sat, 28 Jan 2012 22:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-28T14:50:27.154-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">talking</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">listening</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">annoying</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">loud</category><title>Loud Talkers</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Why do people talk so loud?? Seriously. Can you just lower the volume a bit? It sounds like you're trying to talk to someone on the other side of a train station. It sounds like you're trying to talk to someone while a metal band is performing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;Seriously.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;I find if you talk at a lower volume people will actually make more of an effort to listen to you. If you talk softer, people won't try to talk over you. They'll actually lean in and listen.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;Imagine that.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;Maybe instead of trying to talk over who ever you're talking to you talk softer or-- GASP!-- you &lt;i&gt;stop talking and listen.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;p&gt;Seriously. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-8924972974228793891?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/loud-talkers.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-8460772013779623188</guid><pubDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 18:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-25T10:31:47.396-08:00</atom:updated><title>...Sometimes The Bear Eats You.</title><description>Yesterday was definitely &lt;i&gt;One Of Those Days&lt;/i&gt;. I'm sure we've all had them. Nothing is going right, nothing is working out, and there's nothing you can do about it. That's how my yesterday was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It started out fine. I got to work in record time and started making some copies to prepare for my first class. But then I checked my email. My boss told me I can't get paid for time I'm not teaching a class. I told her the other couple hours I put in for each day was my planning and prep time. "You can't get paid for that" she said. Huh. Interesting. So I get paid for teaching a class but I can't technically plan or prepare for the class? THEN HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TEACH IT? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The back and forth on the email just put me in a bad mood. If I had another job, if ANY of the jobs that I've applied to would just call me back and hire me, I would leave this job. I can't deal with ANOTHER job based on grant money and/or small budgets. I thought this job would be different since it was at a community college, but it's not. It's just like working for a not-for-profit. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Whenever I get pissed at my job or my work situation, I fly off the handle (in my head) and try to find a quick fix. This time I did not do that. This time I decided to use my energy to do something more productive: work on my PhD application. I sent in my writing sample and I faxed the letter to Niagara University to have my transcripts sent over. Then I got on the GRE website. I had to take my GRE to get into Niagara, so I was happy I didn't need to take that test again for UB, even though it is one of the requirements. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Not so fast, chaz.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I logged into my account on the GRE site and I clicked on the "Request Copies" of my test scores. If I could just have them send the scores electronically to UB, it would make this process that much easier. When I clicked on the drop down menu to select the year I took the test, it only went as far back as 2006. I needed it to go to 2004. I tried to type the date in. No go. So I called the 800 number on the site. They told me, after being redirected four different times, that my scores were no longer in their system. Once a test is over five years old, it gets purged from the system. WHAT?? "Our computers automatically do that, sir." The computers. So a teeny tiny electronic file that is composed of my name and address and four triple digit scores takes up SO MUCH room that you purge it forever? "Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" Um, no. Thanks for nothing. "Did I answer all of your questions, sir?" Yeah, I guess. Not to my liking, but you did answer them. "Do you have time to answer a customer service survey?" I don't think that would be a good idea today. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Luckily I still have the print out of my scores. Not that they'll do me any good. My go-to person in the office at UB told me to send in the scores, but they may ask me to take the test again. Awesome. just what I need: To take a test that costs over 100 dollars just to sit for. If I have to re-take, then my application will take that much longer to be complete. Which means I may be SOL when it comes to a fellowship or scholarship or something. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes the bear eats you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe width="640" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aPVLyB0Yc6I?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-8460772013779623188?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/sometimes-bear-eats-you.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/aPVLyB0Yc6I/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-8673146581072884537</guid><pubDate>Wed, 18 Jan 2012 13:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-18T05:42:00.542-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">shopping</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">price rite</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">saving money</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">groceries</category><title>Motivation</title><description>This past weekend I suggested we do our grocery shopping at &lt;a href="http://www.priceritesupermarkets.com/pricerite-products/how-we-offer-such-low-prices/"&gt;Price Rite&lt;/a&gt; on Elmwood Avenue instead of going to Tops or Wegmans like we usually do. I was given the suggestion from a commenter on a &lt;a href="http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/is-eating-healthy-cheap-possible.html"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; I posted a week or two ago. Money has been tight for us for a while and we've been trying to figure out ways to cut back on the amount we spend. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We should have turned around as soon as we made a couple passes around the parking lot. It was hard to see exactly where the parking spots were, since the lot was still covered in snow and slush from two days earlier. The cars were parked haphazardly and the shopping carts were strewn all over the place. This was a bad sign, in retrospect. If the management/owners don't care enough about their store to clean up the outside, what was the inside going to look like? The outside is the first impression you make to potential customers. Maybe the management doesn't care about first impressions. Maybe they don't care if a customer slips and falls in front of their store. Maybe they just assume people are going to shop there no matter what. Maybe they know that since their store is in a low economic neighborhood, they don't need to worry about what the store looks like from the outside. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since the snow and slush was not cleaned up outside, everyone is forced to track it into the store. There was an area of about ten feet or so just inside the door that was a dirty, messy puddle of gross melted snow. I had to track slushy snow into the store twice since I had to go back outside to find a shopping cart. There were three or four near the entrance outside, all of them filled with trash and empty food containers. I emptied the cart that was leaning against the overflowing garbage can and attempted to start my shopping. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We evidently picked the wrong day to shop because the produce section was clogged with shoppers loading their carts up with what appeared to be fresh fruits and vegetables. I grabbed a bulb of garlic and attempted to quickly move to the next isle. One of the ways Price Rite saves money is by not having any rhyme or reason to where items are placed in the isles. There was ketchup next to cans of Cream of Mushroom soup next to baby food next to large boxes of matches. I applaud the fact that they are trying to save their customers money by just putting the pallet of merchandise on the floor, but it makes for an even longer shopping trip because nothing is in any kind of order. We had to back-track a few different times because we missed something or we thought we remembered seeing something an isle back. There's no point in putting your shopping list in any kind of order if the store isn't in any kind of order. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By the end of the shopping excursion, I'm not sure we saved a whole lot of money to be honest. We weren't able to get everything on our list. Luckily we had a cardboard box in our trunk because there was &lt;i&gt;no way&lt;/i&gt; I was going to pay ten cents for each plastic bag. We ended up leaving the store in a worse mood than we started. It was a depressing shopping trip. But at the same time, it motivated me. It motivated me to find another money source other than my current job. It motivated me to save money. It motivated me to be smarter with what money I did have. &lt;b&gt;I never want to shop there again.&lt;/b&gt; I swear to God I would rather go hungry than shop at that Price Rite again. That store is gross. It has nothing to do with the low-income shoppers I was surrounded by, because let's be honest: I am a low-income shopper. The owners and managers of that store don't give one single crap about their customers. They don't give one single crap about how their store looks. They don't give one single crap because they know there's no where else for their customers to go. Price Rite is the only grocery store in the Elmwood Village. It is the only grocery store within walking distance for many of their customers. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Price Rite knows this. They don't have another nicer store to compete with. In the suburbs Tops and Wegmans and even sometimes Quality Markets are all within a few blocks of each other so they need to compete with each other. They need to make sure their store looks the nicest or the cleanest. They need to make sure their customer service is the best. We don't have this luxury downtown. We're stuck with what we've got.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-8673146581072884537?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/motivation.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-2291923699305832109</guid><pubDate>Wed, 11 Jan 2012 13:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-11T05:41:41.183-08:00</atom:updated><title>Choices, Decisions, and Other Choices</title><description>This year is NOT starting off the way I had hoped. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My bank account and my cupboards are near bare. 2012 was supposed to be a good, no-- &lt;i&gt;great&lt;/i&gt; year. I ended 2011 planning on making moves to do better. I was going to eat healthy. I was going to attempt to get my PhD. I was going to drive a car that didn't have issues. So far none of these things have happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I realize that I am not even two weeks into the new year, but things are not even on the up-swing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Three things I need to pay for in the next couple weeks:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My inspection is due this month. My application fees are due by February first. Oh yeah, and I have a serious need to eat sometime this month. The way it looks right now, after I get paid on Friday and after I pay my bills, I won't be able to do all three of these things. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what do I do? Do I sell my CDs and DVDs? Do I overdraw my bank account? I have applications out at local stores and shops for a part-time job, but even if I get fired tomorrow, that won't help me today. I need money now. I need money yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I need to make decisions. I obviously cannot afford to do all of the things on the above list. I guess groceries comes first. On Abraham Mazlow's &lt;a href="http://www.businessballs.com/images/maslow_hierarchy.htm"&gt;Need Pyramid&lt;/a&gt;, air and food and water comes first. So I'll but food to eat for the next week or so. Then I'll hope and pray that something comes my way. Get hired by one of the dozen jobs I applied to in the past month. Find something of value to sell. Manna from Heaven. Something. Anything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I really do want to go back to school for my PhD, but maybe it's not in the cards for me this year. Eating and having a roof over my head and being able to get to work everyday is more important than something that will end up putting me in more debt, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
|&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-2291923699305832109?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/choices-decisions-and-other-choices.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-3283080676199717351</guid><pubDate>Mon, 09 Jan 2012 13:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-09T05:54:48.677-08:00</atom:updated><title>Is Eating Healthy Cheap Possible?</title><description>I want to eat healthy. I want to eat fresh fruits and vegetables. I want to make my own pasta. I want to make sauces and soups and stews from scratch. I watch the cooks and chefs on PBS and the Food Network to get new ideas of great new meals. I scour the internet and my dozens of cook books for dishes I can attempt in my very tiny kitchen. I have &lt;i&gt;so many&lt;/i&gt; things I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But then I go grocery shopping. I am a man on a budget. My paycheck disappears soon after it appears in my checking account. I am left with &lt;i&gt;very little&lt;/i&gt; to buy food with. I am left with two alternatives: Buy ingredients for &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; fresh, delicious, and healthy meal; buy many not-so-healthy meals such as canned soup, boxed pasta, and sauce in a jar. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I try to find the deals. I have a Bonus Card or a Shopper's Club Card or whatever it's called. I try to use coupons. I'm frugal. But I just cannot justify paying more than twenty dollars on food that will turn into maybe four helpings. I can buy nine packages of Ramen Noodles, four cans of soup (if they're on sale), a couple boxes of pasta, a jar of sauce or so, and a box of frozen fish sticks for the same amount. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what's a guy to do? I would love to have an unlimited supply of money to spend on fresh, healthy food. But I don't. So I buy a few jars of sauce instead of tomatoes, cloves of garlic, onions, peppers and mushrooms. I buy a couple cans of soup instead of cream and clams and potatoes and carrots and thyme and celery. And I make moves to make things better fiscally. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you have any ideas of how to create a healthy frugal meal, please &lt;i&gt;PLEASE&lt;/i&gt; leave it in the comments. I can use all the health, er-- &lt;i&gt;help&lt;/i&gt; I can get!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-3283080676199717351?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/is-eating-healthy-cheap-possible.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-7659083270335295110</guid><pubDate>Wed, 04 Jan 2012 13:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-01-09T05:14:00.830-08:00</atom:updated><title>New Year, Same Stuff. Kinda.</title><description>It feels like it's been &lt;i&gt;forever&lt;/i&gt; since I posted something on here. After blogging every single day in December, I decided to take a bit of a break (five days). &lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/2011/12/what-is-it-all-about.html"&gt;Resound '11&lt;/a&gt; really took a lot out of me. It was hard to dig deep and blog every day. Especially about the topics they proposed. I'm not sure if I'll do that again. We'll see. I have about a year to decide. Unless the Mayans are &lt;a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/excerpts-from-my-2012-day-by-day-mayan-calendar"&gt;right&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year feels just like last year. But with a better outlook. I can't just sit around and wait for things to change. I need to do it on my own. Be the change you want to see in the world. Or something. Right? The idea that someone is going to walk up to me and say, "Excuse me, are you Chaz? Do you want a job?" is a myth. That is NOT going to happen. Well, maybe it will, but I am done sitting around waiting for that to happen. I am going to make things happen. I have created a second blog &lt;a href="http://writerchaz.wordpress.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for my creative writing. I've decided that I need this. I have so many ideas and stories and characters in my head that I need to a place to purge them. Feel free to follow along. Or not. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was really hoping to be out of this town by now. But things don't move at the pace you'd like them to. Life gets in the way. Things happen. But I'm hoping to try to direct all of my energy toward making my life better. If I'm going to be here for a little while longer, then I need to make it work. I can't just be miserable. Being miserable isn't any fun. Being miserable doesn't make things change. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I hope that my readers, my audience, my friends, will hold me to this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-7659083270335295110?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-year-same-stuff-kinda.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-5686797082801621331</guid><pubDate>Sat, 31 Dec 2011 16:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-31T08:43:35.043-08:00</atom:updated><title>One Word-2012</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What word do you want to use to describe how you will approach 2012?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Earlier this month I wrote about the word that described my 2011. &lt;a href="http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-word.html"&gt;Transfigure&lt;/a&gt;. It was a fitting word. But what about next year? What do I want next year to be described as? I want next year to be awesome. But more than that. I want 2012 to be...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Formidable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Yes. Formidable! Usually this word brings ideas of dread or fear: &lt;i&gt;The man was a formidable opponent-- Chaz had trouble defeating him.&lt;/i&gt; But what if "the man" and "Chaz" were reversed? What if instead of thinking about the &lt;i&gt;causing fear, apprehension, or dread&lt;/i&gt; definition of the word, we think about the other definition: &lt;i&gt;arousing feelings of awe or admiration because of grandeur, strength, etc&lt;/i&gt;. That's how 2012 is going to be. My year is going to arouse feelings of awe. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't mean to sound like I'm being pretentious or full of my self or something. I'm really not. I'm trying to be more confident and less complacent. I want 2012 to be that dramatic change you see in a character in a film. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The team starts to work together and defeats their rival in the championship game. &lt;br /&gt;
The man realizes he's been a jagoff and turns his life around, winning back the girl of his dreams. &lt;br /&gt;
The captive breaks free of his chains and becomes the warrior he once was, defeating the oppressive king and setting his people free. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will be that team.&lt;br /&gt;
I will be that man.&lt;br /&gt;
I will be that warrior.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2012 is going to be the beginning of great things. 2012 is going to be formidable. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-5686797082801621331?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-word-2012.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-4375935585288584289</guid><pubDate>Sat, 31 Dec 2011 16:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-31T08:11:54.093-08:00</atom:updated><title>Dear Older Self</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Write a letter to your future self to read on 12/30/12. Write  about what you have accomplished. Write about who you are and who you  have become. Write a wishlist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Dear Chaz,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hopefully by now you have heard one way or another whether or not you were accepted into UB's PhD program. If you haven't heard, that means you didn't complete the application process. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Seriously, &lt;i&gt;STOP BEING SO LAZY!&lt;/i&gt; Stop waiting for things to happen to you and make moves. If you have heard about the PhD thing, then hopefully congratulations are in order. 'm so proud of you! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So did the Yankees do well this season? I really hope so. It doesn't look like they want to spend any money, but hopefully by 2012 they made up their mind that a couple more pitchers were in order and they went to the World Series. Also, did the Steelers end up winning the Super Bowl? If there is a way for you to let me know, that would be great. That way I could put some money down on the game and make some money! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How is the Blue Lady doing? Is she still running? Were you able to replace her finally with a new car? You (we) know she wasn't doing too well in 2011 (and 2010 and 2009). Did she get better or worse in your time? And speaking of your time, do we have flying cars yet? How about time travel? I(we) could really use a time machine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Okay, so you remember that time when you (we) were all melancholy and depressed and didn't have much money and were frustrated with life in general? Keep hold of that feeling. Because it is going to pass, and remembering how it felt will hopefully stop more bad stuff from happening next year and the year after that and the decade after that. Hopefully 2011 was the last full year that things were not so great. You (we) know that 2011 was &lt;i&gt;a much better year&lt;/i&gt; than 2010, but 2012 was even better, right? &lt;i&gt;Right??&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, I should probably wrap this up. Write back if you can.&lt;br /&gt;
See (be) you soon!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chaz. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-4375935585288584289?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/dear-older-self.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-3603022324655713898</guid><pubDate>Thu, 29 Dec 2011 15:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-29T07:15:36.386-08:00</atom:updated><title>Five Things/Let Go</title><description>Resound wanted me to write on this topic:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jot down five memories that you would like to never forget about 2011.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But I've already written about this in one way or another this year. So instead I'm going to write about this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are five things you do not want to repeat in 2011?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It's a slight adjustment, and it still may be a repetitive blog post, but it's going to be harder for me to write about. And besides, I have a bad memory when it comes to "Did that happen this year or the year before?" 2012 is going to be better than 2011, just as 2011 was a slight improvement on the year before it. So what did I do this year that I want to let go of? What do I want to remove from my life in 2012? How can I better myself next year?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;1. Processed Foods.&lt;/span&gt; There has to be something better than pre-packaged processed foods full of unnatural junk, right? I need to find an alternative to canned nacho cheese and Cream of Mushroom soup and what-not. I'm sure I can even figure out a way to make mustard instead of getting the squeeze-bottle version of it, right? I rarely use tomato sauce that comes out of a jar, so why not everything else? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;2. Petty Arguments and Grudges.&lt;/span&gt; I am tired of wasting my time with fighting or being angry about things that, in the long-run, are really not worth my time. I don't want to be angry. I don't want to stay mad. I don't want to argue or hold grudges. It's not worth my time. I have better things to spend my time doing. I have more important people to worry about and take care of.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;3. Junk Food.&lt;/span&gt; I always have chips or pretzels or cookies in my apartment. And I usually have at least one kind of dip. And of course ice cream. This needs to stop. Or get cut back a lot. I know eating carrots is just as fun as eating pretzels and French Onion dip, but I just don't think of it. I need to make the junk food less accessible and the healthy snacks more accessible. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;4. Television.&lt;/span&gt; To an extent. There's no way I'm going to completely wipe TV out of my life, but it would be nice to do more than watch television. I should cut down on the number of shows I watch regularly. I should read more. I should watch something informative instead of monotonous. I should feed my brain instead of slowly killing it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;5. Take Out.&lt;/span&gt; This connects to the junk food and the processed foods in my life. I only go to them because they're easy. I only go to them because they're accessible. I only go to them because they're yummy. But I can totally make a pizza. And General Tzo's chicken. And a DiBella's sub. The only reason I don't is because I don't plan enough a head of time of what I want to eat and the ingredients and so-forth. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is a good start. I can totally do this. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bring it on, 2012! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-3603022324655713898?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/five-thingslet-go.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-6277171839439220166</guid><pubDate>Wed, 28 Dec 2011 16:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-28T08:53:49.552-08:00</atom:updated><title>All is Love</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who do you love unconditionally? Who loves you unconditionally? Who do you love despite their flaws? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
That's easy: &lt;b&gt;My brother&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just listened to "How Our Siblings Shape Us" on &lt;a href="http://onpoint.wbur.org/2011/09/15/siblings?autostart=true"&gt;NPR&lt;/a&gt;'s &lt;i&gt;On Point&lt;/i&gt; show and it's so totally true: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;If you’ve got brothers and sisters, you know it’s true: only siblings are partners for life. Parents go early. Children come late, when we’re already stamped and made. Siblings are there from the get go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Brothers and sisters who challenge, protect, torment, defend. Who listen, scold, goad, counsel. Who know you. Some are close. Some are distant. They stamp you either way. For better, for worse, for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
If you have siblings, you know it's true. Siblings mold us. They help us socialize, they help us learn how to fight (or argue), they help us become who we are. It doesn't matter if you grew up as one of thirteen children, or if you only grew up with one sibling. Our brothers and/or sisters make us who we are. It happens through mentoring, through modeling specific behaviors, and even through arguing with you. Siblings teach us how to manage conflicts and how to have a proper argument or discussion. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have one brother. He's three and a half years younger than me. When I was growing up, I &lt;i&gt;hated&lt;/i&gt; him. Seriously. We fought constantly. We would punch and kick and push each other. We would argue with each other. We would complain about each other. We would do things to get the other in trouble. On road trips my parents would have to put luggage or pillows or a cooler between my brother and me in the backseat just so we wouldn't "accidentally" invade the others space. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But then something strange happened. I moved out. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I went away for college, my brother and I started to get close. When I popped home for the weekend, he and I would be civil to each other, we would joke around with each other, we would even hang out with each other. Then he would come out to Rochester for a long weekend. We were becoming friends. And there was no looking back. I had a best friend for life. Unrelated friends come and go. People move away. People have children. People grow apart. But when a sibling moves away or has a child, instead of growing apart, we grow closer. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the older one, I always feel the need to protect my brother. This is one of the reasons he was my "co-Best Man" instead of just my Best Man at my wedding. I'm not going to get into the personal details here, but needless to say I felt like I didn't want to put all of that pressure on him and I didn't want to put him in a position to be in the spotlight. And I knew he would have said it was fine and he would take on more than he could handle and he would do more than he should and he would end up worse in the long run and it would have been my fault. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My brother and I have different beliefs and different morals and different opinions about a lot of topics. Every four years when the presidential election season comes around, we try to avoid talking politics. It's very difficult. It's almost like an unspoken game we're both playing. And of course there are religious and Bible-based opinions we both have that are in conflict with each other. Sometimes. But in both the political and religious debates, we agree to disagree. We don't win and we don't lose. We don't storm out and give the other the silent treatment for a month. We just chalk it up to a draw and we move on. &lt;i&gt;What's next?&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I want to get morbid, I can see a day when I won't have my parents and I can see a time when I'll be without my good friends, but I can't see a day when I won't have my brother. My brain just won't process something like that. Despite all of my flaws and mess-ups and issues, he'll always be there (I hope). And despite all of his flaws (which I probably put there when we were younger), I'll be there for him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's just the way it is. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" width="150" height="75" style="border: none;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-6277171839439220166?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-is-love.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-3686679381182874880</guid><pubDate>Tue, 27 Dec 2011 15:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-27T07:25:45.454-08:00</atom:updated><title>Everything is Going to Be Okay</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What is one thing, a sign if you will, that has shown you that things will be just fine in 2012?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I have confidence and I have a good feeling that 2012 will be my best year ever. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AlMWCRfGNmo/TvnhzuxBawI/AAAAAAAAAF8/a5hiCoBxPws/s1600/legendary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="106" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AlMWCRfGNmo/TvnhzuxBawI/AAAAAAAAAF8/a5hiCoBxPws/s320/legendary.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I am hoping that I will have confidence and the strength to make next year something to really brag about. I'm not sure what is going to change or how it will change, but it will change. It will get better. It has to get better, doesn't it? After the past couple years I've had, I don't know what else could happen to me. I've been in this hole long enough. It's time for things to move in an upward direction. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's time for things to be legendary. I want to be able to brag to people about the year I've had. I want to be able to look back on 2012 and say, &lt;i&gt;Damn, that year was friggin' awesome!&lt;/i&gt; I want to be able to say, &lt;i&gt;2011 can suck it because 2012 ruled!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-3686679381182874880?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/everything-is-going-to-be-okay.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AlMWCRfGNmo/TvnhzuxBawI/AAAAAAAAAF8/a5hiCoBxPws/s72-c/legendary.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-991104373205164033</guid><pubDate>Tue, 27 Dec 2011 15:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-27T07:11:27.402-08:00</atom:updated><title>Outro</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Share the song you would like to be remembered by. Share with us your exit song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This is a pretty morbid topic. Is this like the song people would listen to at my funeral? I always wanted a "Big Chill" funeral where they'll play a popular song or a song that my friends thought of me when they heard it instead of a hymn or something. That would be great. I would love to pick a Nirvana song, since they have been such a huge part of my life for so long, but I can't pick just one. So I guess my exit song would have to be "I Know It's Over" by The Smiths. &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sQPZ9dD9v8&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And as sad and depressing as that song is, Jeff Buckley has a much sadder and much more depression version of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sQPZ9dD9v8&amp;amp;feature=related%20"&gt;it&lt;/a&gt;. I wish I could imbed videos into my blog, but I don't know how. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;See, the sea wants to take me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The knife wants to slit me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Do you think you can help me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is not a better song about ending your life, that I know of. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I don't plan on ending my life. Not on purpose at least. So maybe I will leave the world with "This Is The Day" by The The. &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nonGWDxcJNA"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It's more upbeat, right? You could kick your feet and dance to it! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The calendar, on your wall, is ticking the days off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You've been reading some old letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You smile and think how much you've changed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;All the money in the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Couldn't buy back those days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You pull back the curtains, and the sun burns into your eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You watch a plane flying across a clear blue sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;THIS IS THE DAY -- Your life will surely change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;THIS IS THE DAY -- When things fall into place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You could've done anything -- if you'd wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And all your friends and family think that you're lucky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But the side of you they'll never see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Is when you're left alone with the memories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;That hold your life together like glue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Not so happy or upbeat. It's friggin' sad, yeah? And those last five lines? OH. MY. GOD. Maybe I do want to kill myself now. Talk about a song that mimics my life. &lt;i&gt;Jeez&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's try something else. The song "First Day of Spring" by the Gandharvas always cheered me up when I was younger. I would listen to Canadian radio and I would wait for &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_685Mft7bw"&gt;this song&lt;/a&gt; to come on. It used to cheer me up. It starts out calm, then slowly builds at the end. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;My friend...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Don't just sit there and ruminate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;With your navel to comtemplate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;It's a beautiful day outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Time's passing you by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Come on out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Don't just sit there catatonic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'm feeling supersonic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;A warm wind is sweeping by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The sun's full in the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And there's no way of knowing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No way to know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Know how long it'll last,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No way of knowing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No way to know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Know how long it'll last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Come on out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Don't just sit there and decompose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Go throw on some summer clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I would enjoy your company.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But please hurry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Cause there's no way of knowing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No way to know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Know how long it'll last,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No way of knowing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No way to know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Know how long it'll last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I wish I had a friend to just knock on my door and pull me outside. &lt;i&gt;C'mon, chaz! It's nice outside! Stop being a Hermit! There's no way of knowing how long the nice weather will be here for, so let's make the most of it!&lt;/i&gt; And I would go outside with them and we &lt;b&gt;would enjoy the moment&lt;/b&gt;. Wouldn't that be great? But is that a song that my friends would say &lt;i&gt;That reminds me of chaz.&lt;/i&gt; I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The worst part is that once you're dead, you can't make the decision on what's played at your funeral. It's up to those that are left. And that makes me saddest of all. I'm sure my ex-girlfriends would want to play "Gravel" by Ani DiFranco at my funeral. To them &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqYNGuSGhN0"&gt;it&lt;/a&gt; would be fitting:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You've been juggling two women like a stupid circus clown telling us both we are the one. And maybe you can keep me from ever being happy, but you're not gonna stop me from having fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I was a dirtbag to many many of the girls in my life. So if this is what's played at my funeral, I will have deserved it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My luck my friends and family will play &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N_tupPBtWQ"&gt;this song&lt;/a&gt; and everyone will dance and sing along and have a HUGE PARTY not in memory of me or in honor of me, but in spite of my passing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I guess I'm okay with that. I kind of have to be since I'll be dead and all. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-991104373205164033?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/outro.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-4047120024810492195</guid><pubDate>Tue, 27 Dec 2011 14:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-27T06:05:29.848-08:00</atom:updated><title>Try</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is one thing (activity, food, career, event, travel, etc.) that you'd like to try in 2012? Why haven't you tried it yet? What makes 2012 the year to try it?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I thought I already wrote about &lt;a href="http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/twelve-in-12.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; a couple weeks ago. I made a list of all of the things I want to try to accomplish next year. But now I have to try and narrow the list of twelve down to one single thing. I'm not sure I can do that. Or maybe I'm supposed to come up with something else. Something new to try in 2012. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well you know what? I'm out of things to accomplish. The well is dry. I just want to be happier. I want to make more money so that I can think about something other than all of the money I owe and the money I don't have. I want to make more money so that I can be comfortable again. Every time a friend or family member asks me out for a drink or for dinner or to just hang out, I picture my empty wallet and my near-empty bank account. I don't want to think about money every time I am asked to do something fun! I want to think about doing something fun! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And to be perfectly honest I don't care what these jobs are that will pay me more money. I'll work at a grocery store. I'll work on the line. I'll drive a bus. I swear to God I don't care. Just get me out from under this rock. Just pay me what I need. I don't want fancy things and extravagant vacations. I just want to be comfortable. I just want to be stress-free. I just want to try to think about something other than all of the money I don't have. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-4047120024810492195?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/try.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-642269135766953096</guid><pubDate>Tue, 27 Dec 2011 13:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-27T05:33:40.971-08:00</atom:updated><title>Today Is All You Have</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Describe your perfect day, one that you've had this year or one that you'd like to have next year. What makes it perfect for you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I have not had the perfect day. My perfect day does not occur here, in Western New York. My perfect day occurs far away from the cold and the lake effect snow and wind chills. And although I have not left WNY this past year, I know exactly what my Perfect Day would look like. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Smell&lt;/b&gt;:  Salty air coming off of the Gulf of Mexico. Suntan lotion. Cocoa Butter. Fresh fruit. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Taste&lt;/b&gt;: A frosty blender drink of rum and coconut. Seafood caught and cooked minutes before eating it (Cheese Grouper in Paradise?). Hush Puppies right out of the frier. A cold frosty beer. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Feel&lt;/b&gt;: Warm air on my face. Sun beating down on my back, my chest, my head. Sand with the consistency of baby powder between my toes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--BMSJpcLe-w/TvnIe6dLUiI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Kq8FDABJniQ/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="166" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--BMSJpcLe-w/TvnIe6dLUiI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Kq8FDABJniQ/s320/beach.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Hear&lt;/b&gt;: A drum circle. Fishermen bragging about their latest catch. Seagulls. Competing boom boxes on the beach. The pages of my book turning. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;See&lt;/b&gt;: Waves crashing on the shore. Footsteps in the sand. A gorgeous sunset. Sailboats in the distance. Tan lines. Pelicans dive-bombing the water. Couples, young and old, walking on the beach. Palm trees lining the sidewalks. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cannot wait until I can experience this perfect day. I need it. I need it &lt;i&gt;SO BADLY&lt;/i&gt;. I wish I could just snap my fingers and I would be standing on the beach. I wish I could snap my fingers and I could feel the sun on my face. I wish I could just snap my fingers and I would be out of this miserable place. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-642269135766953096?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/today-is-all-you-have.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--BMSJpcLe-w/TvnIe6dLUiI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Kq8FDABJniQ/s72-c/beach.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-4296615283490439392</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Dec 2011 13:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-22T05:57:34.448-08:00</atom:updated><title>Identify the Problem</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;When you’re annoyed, angered, or frustrated, ask yourself, “What exactly is the problem here?” Take a few minutes to ponder that one little, nagging issue that, if solved or eliminated, would make your life better.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I have problems with people or technology or just stuff in general, I usually assume it is them not me. It can't be something I am doing or saying that is causing an issue. It &lt;i&gt;has&lt;/i&gt; to be you. It can't be me. Just do what you're supposed to and everything will be fine. Just do what I'm asking you to do and everything will be fine. I don't ask for much: Respond to the email I sent you three hours ago. Pull off the road so I can drive the speed limit. Connect to the internet when I open you. Hire me. Give me the paperwork I need. Let me finish what I was saying. Stop riding the arse of my car. Go away. Boil the water I've had on your burner for five minutes already. Start when I turn my key in your ignition.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
See, I don't ask for much. I just want things to go my way. I just want you to do what I need. But then again, maybe I &lt;i&gt;am&lt;/i&gt; the problem. Maybe I'm too stuck in my ways. Maybe I have too many rules and regulations. Maybe I'm a stickler when it comes to life. Should I ease off a bit? Should I try to compromise? Should I stop thinking technology is a logical being who is out to get me? Probably. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a hard time letting go. It's in my DNA. My mom's side of the family comes from Western Pennsylvania. The people from that part of the state are mostly Dutch and German. They are also very stuck in their ways, stubborn and bullheaded. &lt;i&gt;Don't get in my way of doing what I've set my mind to, or else there are going to be problems&lt;/i&gt;. My dad's side of the family is very schedule and time oriented. They hurry hurry hurry. They need things to be a certain way. &lt;i&gt;We are eating at six-thirty, so if you're not here by then, you may not get any dinner&lt;/i&gt;. It's no wonder I am such a mess. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know I need to open up more and let go of things, but I just can't. I'm not even sure I know how. I think part (well, most) of me believes that if things don't go the way I have mapped them out in my mind, that bad things will happen. If my car acts up or if someone is going too slow or if there is snow on the road, I won't get to work by seven-thirty. And if I don't get to work by seven-thirty I may not get the parking spot I always get and then my entire day will go down-hill from there. How do I stop thinking like this? How do I fly by the seat of my pants? How do I just let go? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you have a solution, I am open to it, but I have a feeling it won't work. Remember, I come from a long line of stubborn, schedule-detailed, bullheaded, time-oriented people who are very stuck in their way. How do you work against something that is in your blood? I realize this is not just a little nagging issue, but it &lt;i&gt;would&lt;/i&gt; make my life a lot easier if this was somehow resolved. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-4296615283490439392?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/identify-problem.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-5045503029459119684</guid><pubDate>Wed, 21 Dec 2011 14:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-21T06:50:38.341-08:00</atom:updated><title>Embrace</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What guilty pleasure have you embraced this year? What have you just accepted as something you enjoy and stopped denying it? What do you enjoy that would surprise people that know you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I would have to say Science Fiction. And I don't mean the crappy sci-fi books or movies or television programs where a half-man, half-goat rides around on a giant snail. More specifically I mean the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joss_Whedon"&gt;Joss Whedon&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._J._Abrams"&gt;JJ Abrams&lt;/a&gt; kind of Sci-Fi. The kind of Science Fiction that has deep, in-depth characters, humor, and interesting, detailed plot lines. I was always dead-set against reading or watching anything considered Sci-Fi (except "Star Wars," obviously!). I didn't like the fans of Sci-Fi, I didn't like the story-lines of Sci-Fi, and I didn't like the fake make-up jobs and cheesy plot lines in most Sci-Fi movies and TV shows. But slowly I got into the Sci-Fi that these two amazing writers and producers had created. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I would have to say "Alias" was the first. When I watched it in the late 1990s, I kept telling myself it was a spy show, not Sci-Fi. No matter how many Rambaldi artifacts were brought into the story-lines, and no matter how many characters were killed and then regenerated, I still maintained that it was just a spy show. It was a show about a young, hot-looking spy. That's it. It's not Sci-Fi. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then came "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel." These were vampire shows. I didn't think about the fact that vampires could be considered part of the Science Fiction genre. Besides, the story lines were interesting and the characters were unique and deep. I never watched these shows when they were on originally, but in re-runs on cable. I hid this from most people in my life. At least I tried to. vampires are cool and all, but these shows by Whedon were more than just vampire shows. They were dramas. The story lines included heart break and romance and world domination. Yet I was still embarrassed to be caught watching these re-runs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I must admit I never got into "Lost" even though it was a JJ Abrams created show and was very popular. I'm not exactly sure why. It must have been on at the same time as something else that was watched in my house. I am still old-school: I don't have TiVo or DVR. I have VHS. I can watch one thing and tape another. That's it. And if I'm out of the house and I'm going to miss a show, I have to either watch it online or I have to miss the show. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year I finally came out of the Sci-Fi closet. I was sad when Whedon's "Dollhouse" was cancelled at the beginning of this year. There was no hiding behind the fact that this show was Science Fiction.  I also rented JJ Abrams' version of "Star Trek." This was &lt;i&gt;obviously&lt;/i&gt; Sci-Fi. It was a re-imagination of one of the longest running Science Fiction shows of all time. And it was really good. I watched "Serenity" (which is a sequel to Whedon's "Firefly") on the SyFy channel. The other thing that I realized is that I had these weird mini-crushes on some of the stars of these shows. If I saw one of the stars of a Whedon or Abrams created show on another show or in another movie, I would watch it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://wallpaper.365greetings.com/d/8665-2/Amy-Acker-10.JPG" target="_blank"&gt;Amy Acker&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.moviespad.com/photos/eliza-dushku-dollhouse-60d12.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;Eliza Dushku&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://leafonthewind.com/wp-content/uploads/alan_tudyk11.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;Alan Tudyk&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://watikalemon.com/watikalemon/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Morena-Baccarin-3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;Morena Baccarin&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://mimg.ugo.com/201008/56932/cuts/glasses_480x480.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;Summer Glau&lt;/a&gt; are some of my favorites. It is because of Baccarin and Tudyk that I started watching "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/V_%282009_TV_series%29"&gt;V&lt;/a&gt;" (which was also cancelled this year). If I heard that Amy Acker was going to be on a show ("Happy Town," "Cabin in the Woods," or "Once Upon A Time" to name a few) I would watch it. When re-runs of "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles," starring Summer Glau, was shown on SyFy, I was there. I still don't know how I missed watching "The Cape"! The sad thing for a newly-out-of-the-closet Sci-Fi fan is that most good Science Fiction doesn't last. "Alias" was only on for five seasons. "Dollhouse" was on for two. "Happy Town" lasted about five episodes, if I remember correctly. Most of these shows are popular to only a select group of people and these people are &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; Nielsen Families. These people are nerds. They're geeks. The only time you know a show is popular with this sect is when a show is announced to be cancelled. Then the emails and websites and petitions come out. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So here I am. A Sci-Fi fan. It's my guilty pleasure. It is my escape. I'm looking forward to JJ Abrams' next "Star Trek" film. I can't wait for Whedon's "Much Ado About Nothing" (starring Amy Acker!) and "The Avengers." They may not come out to critical acclaim or make buckets of money at the box office, but they'll be great. To me. Any time a television show ends with &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOlKRMXvTiA&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l848eXy634I"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, I know I'm going to love it. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-5045503029459119684?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/embrace.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-1816452405051808660</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Dec 2011 15:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-20T07:37:11.269-08:00</atom:updated><title>Elevator Speech</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you had 30-90 seconds to describe yourself (give an &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elevator_pitch"&gt;elevator speech&lt;/a&gt;), how would you sum up who you are?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I always had a hard time with this. Being short and sweet. Being brief. Cutting to the chase. The other problem I have is deciding what to talk about. Which aspect of my life do I pitch in this theoretical elevator? Do I pitch Professional Chaz? Creative Chaz? Fun Chaz? There's no way I could give a ninety second speech on all three. &lt;i&gt;There's NO way&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The key is to just talk about the important bits. The bullet points. What do I need people to &lt;i&gt;get&lt;/i&gt; from this elevator ride? Do I want people to walk away thinking to themselves "That Chaz guy is a teacher at a local community college" or "It's so interesting that Chaz went to film school, but is now thinking about getting his PhD" or "I really need to find Chaz's blog-- It sounds super interesting!" Those would be the bullet points. But is that what I want someone to take away from an elevator ride with me? Possibly. Maybe. There's got to be more. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There &lt;i&gt;has&lt;/i&gt; to be more. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;I've been a teacher for over five years, but I took the long way around to get where I am. And my journey's not over yet! I was a security guard, I was a barista, I was Clifford the Big Red Dog. But someday soon I hope to be Dr. Chaz. I love teaching people who need to be taught. People who &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; to learn. So I want to go on to become a teacher of future teachers. I'm a proud, sarcastic Western New Yorker who has wanted to leave home since he got here. Four seasons are over rated. I want the sun and the warmth and the sand between my toes. I want to find the next party. I want to be more. I want to do more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Was that ninety seconds? Was that interesting? If you were in an elevator with me would you think I was funny or intriguing or insane? There's a fine line between crazy and fascinating. And I'm afraid I may balance that line too well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-1816452405051808660?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/elevator-speech.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-7490352089533858103</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Dec 2011 13:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-19T05:48:35.913-08:00</atom:updated><title>Then and Now</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What was your life like a decade ago? How has your life changed since then?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I am in the same apartment I was ten years ago. &lt;i&gt;A decade ago&lt;/i&gt;. Jeez. We really need to move. The fact that I am still living in the apartment that was always supposed to be temporary says a lot about me, I think. I wish I could just pull my music out of the apartment and just light the whole damn thing on fire. A nice Viking Funeral for that damn place would be fitting. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was around this time ten years ago I had a note slipped under my door by my upstairs neighbor. She was not happy that I listened to my music (specifically No Doubt) at such a loud volume at ten in the morning. Before this I thought that 10am was a safe time to listen to my music. I considered writing a note and slipping it under her door complaining about noises that came from what sounded like a one woman brothel. The sounds went like this: A bang on the door. A squeaky bed. A toilet flushing. The front door slamming. The shower running. A bang on the door. A squeaky bed. And so on... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Good times.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ten years ago I was working for a make-shift advertising agency that was located over top of a jazz bar. There was no insulation in the upper floors (there weren't even floors in some of the rooms!), so we were just getting ready to move our offices to one of the owners' basements. We moved from Rochester to Buffalo for this job. I saw a full-page ad in the ArtVoice and drove to Buffalo to talk to Mark Goldman and his business partner about what they wanted to do with this company. I was two years out of film school and was intrigued by what they were saying and excited to try something new. They were going to make Buffalo great. I was going to be a part of that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But of course, it didn't last. The business was over top of a bar, after all. There wasn't any money to spend on decent equipment. We had to out-source everything to print houses and film developers. We didn't have any clients either. We were just coming up with ideas that &lt;i&gt;we&lt;/i&gt; thought Buffalo needed. It was a whole company of pipe dreams. So it folded. And I was back working as a barista by the new year. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ten years. A decade. I can't believe it's been that long. That was four cars ago. That was three television sets ago. That was five computers ago. "Alias," a TV show created by JJ Abrams, had just debuted a month and half earlier. I loved that show. And, ironically enough, I just finished re-watching the entire series on DVD last week. So I guess things don't change as much as you'd think over the course of a decade. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am making a point of not getting sad and nostalgic and depressing about looking back at where I was ten years ago. I'm not going to talk about the fact that we had our whole lives in front of us. I'm not going to talk about how we were getting ready to plan a wedding. I'm not going to write about how stable we were and how sure of ourselves we were. We didn't worry about money. We didn't worry about bills. We were just happy. And I miss the sounds of the squeaky sex bed upstairs. I miss blasting No Doubt at ten in the morning. I miss that job over top of that old jazz club. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Things change. Things get worse. Things get better. People get married. Cars break down. Computers crash. Televisions die. But things stay right where they are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-7490352089533858103?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/then-and-now.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-7181986938901521668</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Dec 2011 13:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-19T05:06:43.809-08:00</atom:updated><title>Appreciate Traditions</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What’s the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My first thought immediately goes to &lt;b&gt;family&lt;/b&gt;. My family (both those I am related to and those I'm not), have been a constant in my life this year and I've been most appreciative of them more so these last twelve months more than any other time. I have a feeling I probably took advantage of them in the past, but this year I've noticed how much they do for me. I've noticed how much they help me. I've noticed how solid they are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Usually I keep my family at arm's length. I try not to bug them and bother them with my problems. They have their own things going on. Besides, my parents raised me to fend for myself. To not ask for help. To stand on my own two feet. So asking them for help this year was really &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; hard for me. I felt weak. I felt as though I wasn't doing what I needed to be doing with my life. I felt like a failure. But my family understood. They were the best sounding board any one could ask for. And for them, I am most appreciative. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;This is the time of year when families are upholding decades old traditions and working to create new ones. Share your December traditions: how they got started, why you continue them, and why they are special to you.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This is an ironic question this year. This year so much has changed with me and my family. Traditions are being flipped on their heads. Things are changing. We are doing things differently this season. We need to be flexible this year. We need to welcome new traditions. We need to remember what this time of year is all about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the past, my family's tradition for Christmas morning had been to wake up early, brew some coffee, and open our stockings as my mom's famous egg casserole baked in the oven. When I was growing up it was just the four of us. But then I got a serious girl friend. She was included in our tradition, but it needed to be tweaked a bit. She had her own family traditions. Her dad always made omelets to order for everyone. They spent Christmas morning together. Her family is a more laid back, take-it-as-it-comes family. My family is more of a scheduled, this-needs-to-happen-now kind of family. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I remember the first Christmas Chantale joined us for Christmas brunch. Everyone was pacing around the kitchen and living room waiting for her car to pull up. The casserole was sitting in the oven keeping warm. The presents (other than hers) were all opened and sitting back under the tree. I could feel it coming. I knew my dad and my brother wanted to eat (so did I!), but I wanted to wait for her. She was a new part of my life. I wanted her to get the whole experience of my family's Christmas. Eventually she showed up (about a half hour after she promised she'd be there) and we all ate breakfast and opened gifts and enjoyed each others company. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And eventually Chantale became my wife and we continued the tradition of having Christmas morning at my parents' house. Her grandparents always had a Christmas Eve celebration at their house, so it all worked out. But things change. Grandparents pass away, aunts and uncles get separated, people move. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that brings us to this year. My parents' house isn't my parents' house anymore. My brother has taken over the Christmas morning duties at his new apartment. My wife and I decided to switch things up and visit with her parents first thing on Christmas. Christmas Eve was always Nana and Papa's thing, and since they are no longer with us, and since my in-laws will be alone on Christmas, we decided to go to their house for omelets and presents and holiday cheer. This is a tradition that Chantale missed. And to be honest I was completely oblivious to it. I just brought her in on my family's tradition without any thoughts about what she was feeling. &lt;i&gt;This is the way it's always done&lt;/i&gt;. And now my brother has a new girl friend. He gets to experience her family's traditions. Or not. I guess that's up to him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I made the mistake of forcing my girl friend into my family's traditions years ago and I don't think that was the best idea. It's a better idea to try to find a happy medium. It's a better idea to experience new things. It's a better idea to remember that the holiday season is more about seeing and visiting and laughing with family (new and old) than it is about keeping to the same traditions that we've been sticking to for years and years. Change is hard. Trust me, I know. But change is not necessarily a bad thing. Change can be good. New experiences and new traditions can be a great experience. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But we need to be flexible. We need to welcome new traditions when things change. And sure, I'll miss my mom's world famous egg casserole, but I will get to experience my father-in-law's world famous omelets! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" width="150" height="75" style="border: none;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-7181986938901521668?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/appreciate-traditions.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-3383264664283573972</guid><pubDate>Fri, 16 Dec 2011 14:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-16T06:48:02.572-08:00</atom:updated><title>Ordinarily Extraordinary</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sometimes the most ordinary, mundane things can turn into extraordinary moments. What was one of your most extraordinary ordinary moments this year?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
About half-way through the summer I needed a relaxing weekend away from the craziness of Buffalo and work and... &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt;. At the same time, my cousins were making plans to head to our family's camp in the Southern Tier. It's always a great time at camp. It's in the middle of nowhere, so there's no outside interruptions. Other than the occasional wild animal that comes wandering through. I was looking forward to a weekend of amazing food cooked on the grill (or smoker), great conversations, and lots of card playing and beer drinking. I needed this. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But the day before we left, my cousin informed me that our time at camp would be a "working weekend." At first I was going to back out. I wanted to just relax. I didn't want to work. But then I thought of all the weekends over the years that I went to camp and didn't do anything but eat, drink and sleep. I used my uncles' camp for an escape from everything. So I owed my uncles a weekend of work. They deserved it. They earned it. And besides, it was still camp. Once the sun went down, my cousins and I would be able to unwind and relax and get up to our usual shenanigans. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The problem is that I don't know anything about doing manual labor. Not the kind of manual labor that we would be doing down at camp. My uncle was planning on putting an addition onto his cabin. This job was more than I could handle. I can fake it when it comes to splitting wood or rebuilding a picnic table, but building something that needs to hold people and not fall over when the first gust of wind comes is more than I am capable of doing. In my life, working with my hands includes stapling papers together, making photo copies, washing dishes, or cooking. And as much as I can assimilate into a camper and someone who is comfortable in nature, my family all know that I wear a tie to work and they all know I don't know a damn thing about building anything that doesn't come with an Allen Wrench. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I may be a teacher and I may have great writing skills and I may know when to use the word "whom," but that doesn't make me a better person than someone who drives an eighteen wheeler or a school bus for a living. My uncles are giant men. And they're patient. They showed me what to do and how to do it. And we all worked together and by the end of the weekend we had that addition built. To my cousins and my aunts and uncles it probably wasn't a big deal, but to me it was &lt;i&gt;extraordinary&lt;/i&gt;. My cousins and uncle were standing on the roof! And it didn't collapse! Just as we were finishing the rain came, and the building stayed standing. It didn't fall over. It didn't wash away. It stayed standing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now don't get me wrong-- I wasn't in charge of deciding how long the 2x6s needed to be. I wasn't in charge of leveling the ground under the addition. I wasn't in charge of cutting the wood. But I carried and picked up huge piles of wood that would eventually be the foundation of the addition. I held the wood that would eventually be the walls as they were cut. I screwed and nailed the 2x6s to the foundation. I was a part of putting this thing together and making sure it was sturdy. And this cabin isn't going &lt;i&gt;anywhere&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Through all the highs and lows I had this year, this weekend was definitely one of the highs. I was proud of myself. I used real tools. I wore work gloves. I got dirty and sweaty. I helped build something with my hands. A weekend that started out as an ordinary relaxing weekend turned into an extraordinary weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s250/resound11_150x75.jpg" style="border: none;" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-3383264664283573972?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/ordinarily-extraordinary.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eUdNHccFwrM/Ttg02FJ8dPI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HbI5aHLiH1A/s72-c/resound11_150x75.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-1952895422286409206</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Dec 2011 15:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-15T07:00:48.104-08:00</atom:updated><title>Discovery</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What discovery did you make in 2011? What kind of impact did it have on how you view the world today?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I found a lot about myself this year. I realized that I am addicted to technology, specifically my smart phone and Social Networking. Using these things is not something new to 2011, but the addiction to them is, I think. Most times my phone is just an extension of my arm. It's not really me if I don't have my phone in my hand. This gets in the way of some (or all) of my relationships, especially with friend or family who are not into SN as I am. It is a point of contention with many and it causes a lot of problems. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iyRQlVuP5qI/TuoLRB9MkLI/AAAAAAAAAFg/7FgpYML3QIk/s1600/new-phone.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="273" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iyRQlVuP5qI/TuoLRB9MkLI/AAAAAAAAAFg/7FgpYML3QIk/s320/new-phone.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But the first part is knowing you have a problem, and &lt;i&gt;I know I have a problem&lt;/i&gt;. Let's move on. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The one discovery I made this year is that &lt;b&gt;I actually enjoy blogging&lt;/b&gt;. Before this year I thought most bloggers were either shut-ins who wrote about their cats, people who were trying to sell something, or people who were trying to seem more important than they were in real life. Or all of the above. But over the course of this year I realized that on the most part, none of that is true about bloggers. At least not the ones I have come across in my time as a blogger. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was afraid that people would think, "Why are you writing about this? NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR CAR." Honestly at first I didn't know whether I wanted to blog or just keep a journal. But I knew I wanted some record of my year. I wanted something permanent. And I knew I'd need some constructive criticism, moral support and pats on the back along the way. With just writing in a journal, I wouldn't get any of that. With a blog I got to see what people thought, I got to get into fights and I got to meet new people. Besides, writing in a journal was what I did in high school and undergrad. I needed a more grown-up outlet for my thoughts, my feelings, and my angst. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;"A [discovery] can sometimes change our view on the world and our place in it. Discovery can bring on positive change, but sometimes discovery is hard. Sometimes it causes conflict. But after a discovery, something about you just isn't quite the same."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://resound.jaemie.com/2011/12/resound11-prompt-15-discovery.html"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
VERY true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Blogging is a double-edged sword. I open up a lot more on my blog than I do to the people in my life. But because my blog is fairly public and because anyone can read my blog, some of my friends and family get upset that I don't open up as much to them as I do to the internet. I've always been able to be more honest in the written word than in real-life. Even before I had a presence on the internet. Unless I'm pushed, I'm not good at emotional conversations. Not in a face-to-face interaction. I never have. I have a hard enough time telling my close family that I love them. But you want to talk about my deep, internal stuff? Let me just write it down or text you or something. It's similar to looking people in the eyes. I'm am really bad at that. It's too personal. It's too honest. And I'm afraid, I guess. I don't like looking people straight in the eyes because it means they're looking straight into &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; eyes. It freaks me out. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am better at being behind the scenes. I'm not trying to compare myself to the Great and Powerful Oz or anything, but I'd much rather be the guy who turns the lights on and off or writes the script or opens and closes the curtain than the guy who performs on stage IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. So I blog. I write about my life and I write about what I'm feeling. I write about a problem I'm having and I write about a conversation I over heard. I write because I have to and I write because I need to. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was thinking the other evening about what I might want to do with this blog once 2011 is over. Part of this discovery was just to stay in the practice of writing. Do I want to keep this blog as a personal blog? Do I want to change it? I think I may want to go in a new direction next year, but I may need to build another blog for that. I am always going to need an outlet for my personal, internal stuff. But I also have a lot of other stuff I want to get out. I want to get back to my roots of writing short stories and character sketches and scripts. I want to be creative again. I want to do more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-1952895422286409206?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/discovery.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iyRQlVuP5qI/TuoLRB9MkLI/AAAAAAAAAFg/7FgpYML3QIk/s72-c/new-phone.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3743692616414244800.post-3358481182565485888</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2011 14:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-12-14T06:03:09.272-08:00</atom:updated><title>Home</title><description>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;,Courier,monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;When did you feel most at home this year: in your life, in your career, in your skin? What factors make that situation feel like home? Is there an activity in which you excel that makes you feel like you're doing what you were meant to do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I love being surrounded by friends and family. I would love to call a place home that was big enough to entertain all those closest to me. There's not even a dining room/kitchen table in the apartment. It sucks. The apartment feels more like a cave most days. I sit on the couch, I sit on the chair in front of my computer, I lay on the bed. We've had a couple people over at a time, but I want to have a big get-together. I want the place to be full of great smelling food, laughter and lots of people! I am comfortable at home, but I think I'm too comfortable. So comfortable that I'm afraid one day the place will go up in smoke and I won't notice or care because I'll be sitting so nice and contented in my chair. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I will die there all alone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another place I feel comfortable is in my classroom. I am at complete ease in front of a class full of students. At the beginning of 2011 I got a new job teaching for one of the local community colleges. Getting hired made me so happy for a few different reasons: I was making money again. I had something to do every day. I was doing something I loved again. I was petrified that I was going to resort to working at a factory or back in retail again. I was petrified that I was going to have to do something I didn't want to do just to pay my bills. I was petrified that my first teaching job was the only teaching gig I would ever have. Now I am back to teaching people who &lt;i&gt;need&lt;/i&gt; a teacher. It feels good to be needed. (If only these students knew how much I needed them as much as they need me!) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love getting up in front of the class and seeing what we will stumble upon. In the Constructivist model, it is more about student-centered learning, and that is what I try to stick to. It doesn't always work out, but I think my students get more out of the content if they are learning from each other. I try to be less of a teacher and more of a facilitator. No one wants some guy standing up at the front of the class telling them what is important. No one wants some guy standing at the front of the class lecturing them. And no one wants some guy at the front of the room telling them what's right and what's wrong. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I usually bring up a topic or something I read in the paper or heard on the radio and I try to &lt;i&gt;aim it&lt;/i&gt; toward what we were doing in class yesterday. I let them tell the class what they think about it and how it connects to our class, our current unit, or life in general. If there isn't a connection to what goes on inside of class with what is going on in each of their lives, then my students won't care about it. And if my students don't care about it, they won't learn it. And if they don't learn anything, then what's the point, really? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is my wheelhouse. This is where I feel comfortable. This is where I feel at home away from home. I don't assess what my students have learned by giving them some kind of standardized test. I know what they've learned by what they talk about in class. Most of the time they don't even realize they're learning. I give them a wrap-up assignment that uses their talents or best skills. If they're good at drawing instead of writing, then they'll do that. If they would rather write an essay, that's fine. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's super rewarding seeing how much my students have grown over the span of a course. This is why I teach. I never got into teaching because of the summer breaks. I never got into teaching because I thought I was going to become rich. I never got into teaching because I heard it was fun. Every teaching job I've had has gone all year round. I have never had summers off. And I think that's the best way to teach and the best way to learn. Summer vacations cause students to &lt;i&gt;unlearn&lt;/i&gt; what they were taught. Most teachers spend the first month back from summer vacation reteaching last year's content. Education is the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlujqCvQ4NE"&gt;silver bullet&lt;/a&gt;. It's what changes everything before it and everything after it. Until the education system changes, everything is going to get held back. Everything is going to be broken. Everything is--&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here I go off on a tangent. At some point in the last paragraph or so I got up on my soap-box and strayed away from what my original point was. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel at home in my classroom. I love teaching and I love learning from my students. I feel comfortable at work. I'm happy at work. Even in the midst of passive-aggressive disputes between coworkers, even when there's very little money for supplies, even when I have to deal with driving for over forty minutes in the snow, I still love it here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3743692616414244800-3358481182565485888?l=chazview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://chazview.blogspot.com/2011/12/home.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (chaz.)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>

