There are many different kinds of people in this world. I happen to be of the “all or nothing” brand. It’s something I constantly battle against in many parts of my life. My world is littered with half-started projects that began with full hearted devotion, only to be swept aside by something else that caught my mind’s eye.

This also has a disastrous effect in my dealing with other people. It tends to make you a bit more stoic when dealing with people you don’t feel an instant connection with, and way too overanxious (read “spastic”) with those you do connect with. And when all that is focused on someone who isn’t similarlly looking to dive headlong into something, the results can be disasterous.

You’re supposed to get wiser with age, or so the mystical group known as “they” say, but those lessons are sometimes hard to learn. With me, I usually have to be slapped once or thrice by the same mistake before it sinks in and I change my ways. Then again, there are sometimes I just have to chance across some old e-mails I wrote back in ’97 or so to see that I haven’t learned a damn thing and that I’m dangerously close to repeating the same mistakes again.

Considering how much all this has been weighing on my mind the past week or so, my stomach turning in knots and my head swimming through every line of my mistake, I think may have finally learned my lesson. Wether that’s just lip service or truth, well, time and actions are the only true way to find out.

Admiting there is a problem in the first place is the first step in overcoming it.

(Note: This all took place Thursday, May 15th)

I have finally reached the end of a long strange trip begun so long ago, and unfortunately my game of russian roulette with the legal system finally caught up with me. I had an insane combination of dumb luck and good lawyering keep me out of any real consequences outside of fines for my repeated acts of stupidity, but this time the chamber was loaded and I got shot through the driver’s license, leaving a wound that only six months will heal.

Now I realize that with everything that I could have been slapped with from the assortment of municipalities I offended, I am damn lucky to have only lost my license for six months. Still for a self described driving nut it might have been less painful to ask for my pinky toe as compensation for my transgressions, and I may have been more willing to turn it over than I was to do so with my little laminated precious.

Now with this being a free country and all, I still would like to say that I feel this ruling stinks. I admit that I was guilty, but I also have to say that there were many mitigating circumstances that the law and I saw differently on, but this HAD been a resolved matter. I had walked away free and clear so long as I didn’t complicate things inside of a year’s time. Well, life just wouldn’t be an adventure if I couldn’t screw things up every now and again.

It finally got to the point where the state had worn me down. My lawyer thought I had a strong enough case to escalate this with an Appeal, but one the motion to supress evidence my lawyer had worked so hard on was refused, I went into the ultimate flip flop mode. Should I seek the appeal or jsut take the medicine and be done with it? Five times I changed my mind, at one point being so adamant about fighting that when my lawyer asked me if I was sure I just repeated the word like a mantra: “Appeal, appeal, appeal!” Over and over, but in hindsight it was more of a case of trying to convince myself that it would work out best. The final straw was thought of spending $2,500 for lawyer fees, $500 for the transcript to make said appeal and still run the risk of having the same verdict handed down to me.

Too rich for my blood. I fold.

But at least now the path ahead is clear for me. I can finally write all of this bullshit into the past and get back to being a generally upstanding citizen again. The true task before me now is to make sure I learn from what I put myself through, be thankful that those around me have been supportive and understanding at the darkest of those times, and to keep history form ever repeating itself.

On a scale of 1 to 10, I give the ride a -3. Stay away from this attraction, folks!

(Note: This trip took place between Thursday, May 8th and Sunday, May 11th)

So there I was on Friday afternoon, lying on the grass under the shade of a nearby tree, my head spinning from the near onset of heatstroke after some basketball in the unrelenting sun and humidity of Wilmington, NC. It felt like I had stepped forward about two months into the midst of a hazy, hot and humid New Jersey summer day. Except I was in North Carolina. And it was May. There were a few other differences too.

It was probably all for the best that I had to sit out. My jumper just wasn’t quite on that afternoon and my best defensive move was taking off my shirt and using my ultra pale body to blind my opponents as I tried to tan it down some. For the record, I think I moved on the tan scale from “milk” to “canary” during the course of the four day weekend.

In those few moments of recouping I found a little slice of tranquility I hadn’t been able to enjoy in some time. I watched the clouds roll by, listened to my friends as they continued the game, and just reveled in the moment (not to mention the shade and the oxygen). Not only that, but listening to my body for once instead of trying to force it beyond it’s limits probably saved me from a sudden diversion to Cape Fear hospital.

At least I would have been close to Dennis’ new pad if that had happened (his third residence in as many visits). But it didn’t, so it’s barely worth the mention. And certainly not worth a paragraph in this story. What? You say I’m rambling on and on about a thought I didn’t want to pay more than lip service to? Oops…moving on then.

One good thing about the sun and warm weather is trying to cool off from it. Our method of choice after we finished abusing ourselves in basketball was to find a swimming pool to jump into. Our great pool hunt concluded at the development known as Campus Edge (lovingly refered to as “Ghetto Edge” by the locals). Usually I don’t condone this kind of swim facility pilfering, us being non-residents of the building and all, but Dennis did use to live there about two trips ago, so all in all we figured he was still due some pool usage time. That and it was hot out. Mostly the hot thing.

It turn out to be a fairly active weekend. We spent the day Saturday afternoon playing football and wiffleball, or to be more precise some weak variations thereof. It’s hard to play a full out game of either sport when you only have three people, but you’d be suprised just how sore all that physical motion can leave a body.

There was also the food aspect of the trip, as in there was lots of it to get and it was all good to eat. Over at a little place called M.O.I. (Middle of the Island) I was introduced to Hush Puppies, these little banana shaped pieces of deep fried corn bread that I could have eaten as a meal onto themselves if it hadn’t been for the first piece of chicken-fried steak I had in years that I ordered.

We also took in some other forms of cuisine over the course of our trip, such as dinner at Mexican restaurant on their terrace at sunset, downing pitchers of margaritas while enduring spanish renditions of pop songs at ear-splitting levels. And then there was the obligatory trip to Indochine for some Thai/Vietnamese cuisine, where I had the world’s best pepper steak. Tis a true pity they don’t deliver to Jersey.

And what would a trip to Wilmington be without the nightlife? This time around I got to experience a little of both the downtown and beach areas, and all of it involved the smokin’ music scene that thrives there. We were able to go from a kick-ass jazz club to a raucous Irish bar with a two man acoustic set knocking out folk and cover tunes with just a quick walk across downtown, though the majority of our Friday night was spent at Blue Post Billiards.

Saturday night was spent hanging out at Neptune’s on the beach to see Willie and Me play, which was a nice bonus for me. See, last time I visited Dennis and I had stopped in to hear their set and was just a matter of good fortune for me that they were playing the same time I was visiting this time. They were just as good as I remembered, and as an added bonus Dennis and I got to converse with some of the members, including Willie himself. Very decent and genuine people.

But what would an adventure be without some “incidents” along the way? Somehow in our travels I managed to lose my new cellphone that I had in my possession for less than a month. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. Aggravating to say the least, expensive for certain, but it does give em the chance to get the cell phone I’ve really been pining after.

Still, with all that was done on this trip, the most important to me was chance to sit down and talk with my boyz. In successive nights I got to have two knock-down, drag out, one-on-one heart-to-heart talks with both Jesse and Dennis, not to mention 20 plus hours of conversational time Jesse and I had on the road to and from.

It’s always good to know people for so long and still be able to find out new things about them, but sometimes it just takes having the time to sit down and talk. It’s one of the reasons I love road trips so much.

All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….
All work and no play makes Andrew a dull boy….

Insanity to end later this week. Updates to resume sometime thereafter. Back to the code mines I go….