My 200th Post

36000 feet up - somewhere over the Pacific ocean. United flight 838 SFO-NRT – Seat 13B. Upper deck 747. Paid business class. This is the way to travel. Seat 13A is empty. The company sent a limo to my house to take me to the airport – it’s cheaper than paying for parking at the airport for 12 days. There’s a 15” flat screen monitor built into the seat. Video on demand. AC power with a standard plug. A seat that reclines to a 6’ 6” flat bed. Noise canceling headphones. A connection for my iPod. They brought me a nice glass of champagne before the flight departed.

It’s an 11 hour flight. I though I would take some of the time to re-read my blog. I write the entries into a word file, and copy them into blogger. So I have the whole thing in one file. Now it’s weighing in at 283 pages. (There are about 40 posts that I did not put up, some too personal, some too x-rated, some too lame) I’ve written a damn novel (it just needs a happy ending). It’s been a bit over a year now. New reader? Start from the beginning – read it in order. As I re-read it, I laughed and I cried.

I could not have made up this story – I’m just not that creative. And everything written here is true – it happened. The details, places, names, and other things have been changed to protect both the innocent and the guilty. I have taken the occasional literary license to provide comic relief. And I’ve probably over dramatized some things (as Maurizio says, I’m a drama queen). But the gist of the story is god’s honest truth. If I made this up, I’d be better looking, better paid, and I’d get the girl a hell of a lot more often.

My interest in writing this has waxed and waned – but in the end I’m glad I did it. I didn’t know a broken heart could hurt so much. I had no idea. Usually, I don’t keep a record of my life. I just collect random things to remind me – a boarding pass to Sydney, the admission ticket to the casino in Monte Carlo, the receipt for my windsurfer, a box of matches from a restaurant in Paris, a shell from the beach on Maui, the miniature gargoyle that guards my computer, the label from a wine bottle – I pile them in boxes and drawers and scatter then across my house and office. I come upon these things from time to time and they remind me of good times. But there is no commentary. I don’t collect things from the bad times. But these were bad times I want (desperately) to learn from. These days I don’t want to forget. The mind has a way of pushing out those unpleasant memories away – distorting them – turning them inside out.

I’ll keep blogging. I hope you enjoy reading it. Leave a comment from time to time.

-Rich