Project 2. Winter is Coming.

Howdy purtners,

This is 10% for you to read. 90% for me to have to sit down and type out.

Today I signed the contract for my second "life project" with my bro at work (the Frazz). We got made fun of today at the coffee shop by some evangelical Christians who prayed loudly in public because they served our espresso's with sparkling water.

That is neither here nor there though. We were talking about the formula to success in owning your own personal development. These are old revelations but basically it boils down to this: throughout your day you have to STOP (not pause, an important distinction) and assess - Why am I doing this? Should I do this? Is there a better thing to do?

Example: you get home from a long day of work - what is your routine?

For years my routine was to shed my work clothes off, lay them over my dresser (with the stacks of other clothes) and pop into some gym shorts in order to comfortably lay on the couch for the next 3-4 hours before its time to go to bed. This was/is a crap routine.

Today: Got home from work appx 6:15pm. Eleven hour day. Pick up a piece of trash that has been on the ground in the garage for about 10 weeks. Stripped down and hung up my pants, shirt in the dry cleaning bag, socks in the hamper. Strapped on the work Nikes (you have to have multiple Nikes for different tasks) and stepped outside to do yard work until the sun went down. Probably went in around 7:15pm or so. Your mom, Wonderwoman, cooked dinner and entertained my diatribe on weak minded people who don't subscribe to Stoicism. I ate quickly and then washed the dishes. Then, relaxed for about 30 minutes - reading some blog online and researching which drone I'm going to buy for our trip to Hong Kong. Tightened up the Nikes (did not switch to the correct functional shoes because I was already sweaty. This is okay, check your Nike protocol handbook) and went out to run 3 miles.

Long story made extra long - I was able to STOP - assess my decisions and take initiative to do the things I "wanted" to do. Isn't it funny how hard it is to do the things we want to do? So bizarre.

So here's the bet - we have to have a body (rated by 3rd parties) that resembles a popular celebrity at the moment and the deadline is December 22nd.

We can both win and/or lose the bet. Here are the stakes:

• $500 to an anti-charity (we choose political figures that we don't support)
• 20 hours of community service (victor's choice - I'm going to have Aaron do something hyper-religious)
• "Stoicism training" (i.e. laying on the ground in a public place, asking for a discount somewhere you know they won't give you one, wearing loud outfits at snobby places - basically just doing things to adorn thicker skin)

Snoozer of a post huh?

Okay. I'll try to save it with some story time. Naturally the protagonist here is going to be Carolyn because she's my whole world right now (you aren't here yet).

I'll regale you with the tale of our first "date".

This is a real gas - your old man has it within him to be something of a Lance Romance.

Not this time though. We just told this story at a double-date last week though and we can barely make it through the story. You probably won't find it as funny because we're just old farts and you can't imagine us being young and in love.

We struggled to meet up - I didn't get a text back the night we met. Next time she was partying at a casino. I don't remember being excessively poor at this point but I was 21 and paying all my own bills and tuition - that doesn't excuse what comes next.

So I invited Carolyn over to "hang out" at my house...

with my brother (Patrick)...

drinking beers (your mom doesn't drink beers, ever)...

watching The Departed (a very intense movie that you have to follow closely to appreciate)...

For reasons unknown, she agreed to this. When I went to pick her up (in my silver, oxidized, 1997 Honda Civic coupe - so dope) her girlfriends took down my license plate since there was a high probability that I was a psychopath. The verdict is still out.

The drive from her place to mine was about 10 minutes - in that time your mother told me that she...

"was, seriously, not that funny"...

"like, not pretty at all"...

"not smart"..

"and not that interesting actually"...

I offered to turn around because I legitimately thought she had changed her mind about hanging out (which, honestly, who could blame her).

Anyways, I don't recall every detail of the evening except that Carolyn always says that Patrick was just talking a bunch and asking questions while the movie played in the background (which, if you're close with Uncle Pat, is unusual because he's usually quite introverted).

This was in mid-April. Eventually, after she had unloaded her beer on me, we ended up sitting outside on the porch swing staring up to the stars and our conversation ebbed and flowed as easily as taking a breath. We sat outside for six hours and laughed and bared our souls to one another. I remember her beautiful long brown hair and big brown eyes. She wore jeans and a turquoise striped v-neck shirt with Vans.

She just emanated kindness and love with all the things she said, and those didn't say. I wish I could remember which words we spoke to each other - what stories we told and which dreams we shared, but alas, what remained was a blur of emotion.

Then we broke up five weeks later. But that's a story for another time. Ask your mom what her least favorite Katy Perry song is.

Don't ask me because I hate them all.

Love always,

Dad

Song of the week: "Free" by Rudimental feat. Emeli Sande 
I mostly just like the part when she sings "c'est la vie" because it is my favorite phrase lately. It's the French version of the Serenity Prayer.

Photo I took in France - sure hope this is still standing

Project 1. Fin.

Hurro,

I'm not going to give a ton of detail here recapping the 4 week experiment because I'm sure its boring as heck.

Strong points: total caffeine fast, sugar fast 6 days a week, woke up at 5:20 everyday (except like twice when that snooze called my name but was still up by 5:40), worked out 75% of committed. Read at least 30min/day on average.

Weak stuff: meditation- meh. Journal - you're looking at it. Meals - eh, 50-75%. Dishes - 50%.

So overall - I failed. Because I would have only been satisfied with 100% success on all topics. That said I think setting the lofty goal led to decent completion ratio and I am certain that I did better than I would have without the goals.

So I was talking to my best work bro - the Frazz - today while I imbibed upon my first cortado in a month. We came to some realizations about the nature of this world that we live in - you're about to be enlightened.

1. Your life is your fault (which is a given)
2. You need to work on controlling yourself - stop floating through life existing
3. You are operating low on the hierarchy of needs and can push yourself higher (self-actualization)
4. Embrace your humanity - we tried to shun vanity and opted for "overall health" because to be vain is to be sinful - that was stupid though. Having six abs can help motivate you and you're going to need all the motivation you can get.

In other news, my job is still whooping my tuckus but progress has been made. Your mother is still a saint of a human being.

Story time:

You won't fully be able to appreciate this because for your entire life you will have watched your mom bend over backwards to take care of you - but I'll take you back to a time long ago. When I bought my first house (which she was not even moving into) something spectacular happened. Carolyn (aka Mom) grew up very well loved and spoiled (but in the best way, you would never know) so when she offered to help out with the home remodeling I was expecting a cute girl to show up and sort-of try, while sort-of being in the way. I was sort-of 168% wrong. She was showing butt crack, busting a sweat, and working harder than a contractor with 20 years of experience. She took initiative and took direction. I have never been more happily surprised with anyone in my life (thus far). I knew I wanted to spend my life with your mother very early on (I told your grandmother I would marry her after 8 months at a Christmas mass) but this was the deal-sealer. She was veracious and beautiful. She worked hard and was playful and had a light spirit.

I love to be wrong about your mother. Don't get me wrong - I think so highly of her that I imagine her resting upon Mount Olympus being hand fed grapes by a lesser goddess. I tell you that to tell you this: do not underestimate the beauty and grace of the woman who you are so blessed to call your mother - because if you do; you're wrong.

So let's recap... was I able to pontificate a worldview that you don't care about and didn't ask for? Check. Did I give advice as a directive to a subordinate that you'll probably ignore? Assuredly. Did I try to show a glimpse of how I love your mother through a time capsule? Sure did.

I did what I came here to do.

Love always,

Dad