Alright, so things turned around a bit yesterday. Funny how it is, being in the sales business, how you can be so dejected and ready to jump ship, then one big deal, and all is well, narrowed eyes lose their sharp focus on me, soften up and I no longer feel the abrasions of a thousand expectations. In other words, I got a big account yesterday, and management decided to get out of my ass for a bit. Does this change things? The way I�ve been feeling about my job? Well yes, at least for now. I love having projects, and I NEED to feel successful at what I do, or else I crumble in every other area of my life. And I can�t have that, not now, not when I�m on the brink of so many possibilities, not when I�m ready for so many things in so many ways.

Today is my father�s birthday. He�s an amazing man. I�ve mentioned this before, but just to sum him up by describing his interests and activities and give you a bit of an idea, here�s some tidbits: Early 50�s; rides a Harley (Road King, to be exact); works in strategic war-gaming for the government (well, not FOR the govt., he�s contracted because of all his Navy experience and Top-top-top secret clearances and knowledge); volunteers at the airport, directing people from out of the country, helping foreigners find there way, you might say; speaks a few languages, travels to at least 3 countries a year (Germany, Italy, and Korea usually, for work); volunteers at Make-a-Wish, helping children to decide what their wish is, and then see that it�s carried through the proper channels (he even goes as far as walking them through it, rides to the airport to make sure they get to the plane on time for Disneyworld); meditates, attends the church of religious science, and has a certificate in massage (it�s a part-time gig); loves his four daughters. LOVES them. Us. Gives, gives, gives. Teaches, teaches, teaches. Like I said, he�s an amazing man, and that�s just a peak. You don�t know the half of it.

Last night, I had a wonderful time. A good friend I haven�t seen in awhile had me and S over for dinner. How spoiled I am, homemade food, fragrant and tasty, sinfully delicious. And great conversation, many laughs, and many insights shared. On Howard Stern this morning, there was a kid who speaks slowly because of an accident he got in as a child. Normal IQ, has a job, good-looking, just speaks R E A L L Y S L O W L Y. They asked him if he had any friends, and he replied, �uunnnooooo�.weeellllll, yeeeesssss, I ddoooo haaaaave ooooooonnnne friiieeeennnndd.� I almost cried. Here�s a kid, fuck the fact that he talks slow, that�s not what matters here, he could have been a speed-talker for all I care. What matters is, he has a friend. One friend. For some reason, I was extremely touched by that, pictured him sharing his thoughts, his dreams, with this person he trusts, this friend. The word �friend� echoed in my head, over and over, the importance of it, the weight of it, the meaning. And this kid has one, and that person is special, because he is appreciated, he is a friend to someone, an ONLY friend to someone.

How I have taken that for granted sometimes, not the �having� friends, but the �being� a friend. I have friends. I am a friend to many. And this kid, this kid with one friend, one person to talk to, to hang with, one person who knows him and understands him, he reminded me just how special and lucky I am for each of the friends I have, each of the people I am a friend to. Special. Lucky. My family. My friends.

Special. Lucky.

-Barbarella

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