I'm trying a few things, changing the look of the site. Please let me know what you think.
For starters, I've changed my photo galleries to the new Album tool. They're all together under one tab, instead of spread out over a bunch of links - easier to navigate, hopefully. I'm now using one of the transparent templates, in order to give my site a slightly more dignified look. And I've uploaded my own series of background images. I've taken the kanji for destiny, love, luck, zen, and reiki (and a few others), manipulated them using the open-source Gimp image editing program, and slapped them up there. I hope they're not too distracting.
Anyway, it's been a long time since I've done anything with the site, for which I apologize. SOMEONE (I won't mention who, but her site is here) kept telling me to go check out the new tools on freewebs - and now I see why.
PS: In keeping with the Japanese theme, please take a look at my cherry blossom photos under the Static Arts link. Took them all with my crappy cell phone camera, and I must say, they came out pretty nice. Well, after some digital manipulation, anyway...
I spent this weekend at the Hunt Valley Inn, up in Hunt Valley , MD. Those of you who know me know the significance of that remote locale; those of you who don’t – well, the story’s too boring to tell. That hasn’t ever stopped me before, though – follow this link to read more. Anyway, this was supposed to be a weekend of sappy self indulgence, a chance to get away from the things (and people) that were annoying me and spoil myself – gourmet food from Wegman’s, enough alcohol to fell a rhino, smoking cigars in the face of Mormanocity, and bout after bout of pasturbation. (I have to be honest – that last one is a tribute to my friend Lazarus, who used to chastise me for base-jumping, noisily and with great gusto, into the pit of memory.) I accomplished all that, but to a much lesser extent than I had planned. (My frail, oversized body and frail, undersized wallet are both eternally grateful.) I also did some soul-searching – it wasn’t my intent, but it happened – and I discovered that the real reason that Hunt Valley is important to me isn’t because I attended an anime convention there. Instead, it is the representation of a decision I made eleven years ago to explore beyond my block, neighborhood, and city, beyond the boundaries of what I knew, and dive feet-first into a completely unknown situation. Decisions – that became the theme of the weekend. The decision to go to Otakon in 1997, while relatively minor in and of itself (femtoscopic, really, on a cosmic scale), set into motion the events that define my current personal life. If I didn’t go to Otakon, I doubt very much I would be living in Baltimore today. My only exposure to Baltimore before then came from afternoon excursions with my father, off to see my boyhood baseball team – experiences I wouldn’t give up for all the anime in Akihabara, but not enough to enamor me to the Charm City. But I did, and I am, and I’m cool with that. I’m even sticking around, despite everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks. This is partly my doing – I had been so busy blaming other people for putting me into my current bind that I forgot the only decisions I can control are my own. I stayed mum when I had reservations. I decided to have faith in others instead of trusting my own intuition. I put someone else’s short-term happiness ahead of my long-term well-being. Decisions. Well, I’ve made one more. I’ve been playing "go along to get along" for too long. No longer. I'm not saying "My way or the highway", but I'm also not letting your way put me on the highway. If your decision is not in my best interest, I will let you know. Dark side ascendant, beeyatch!
I spent this weekend at the Hunt Valley Inn, up in Hunt Valley , MD. Those of you who know me know the significance of that remote locale; those of you who don’t – well, the story’s too boring to tell. That hasn’t ever stopped me before, though – follow this link to read more.
Anyway, this was supposed to be a weekend of sappy self indulgence, a chance to get away from the things (and people) that were annoying me and spoil myself – gourmet food from Wegman’s, enough alcohol to fell a rhino, smoking cigars in the face of Mormanocity, and bout after bout of pasturbation. (I have to be honest – that last one is a tribute to my friend Lazarus, who used to chastise me for base-jumping, noisily and with great gusto, into the pit of memory.)
I accomplished all that, but to a much lesser extent than I had planned. (My frail, oversized body and frail, undersized wallet are both eternally grateful.) I also did some soul-searching – it wasn’t my intent, but it happened – and I discovered that the real reason that Hunt Valley is important to me isn’t because I attended an anime convention there. Instead, it is the representation of a decision I made eleven years ago to explore beyond my block, neighborhood, and city, beyond the boundaries of what I knew, and dive feet-first into a completely unknown situation.
Decisions – that became the theme of the weekend. The decision to go to Otakon in 1997, while relatively minor in and of itself (femtoscopic, really, on a cosmic scale), set into motion the events that define my current personal life. If I didn’t go to Otakon, I doubt very much I would be living in Baltimore today. My only exposure to Baltimore before then came from afternoon excursions with my father, off to see my boyhood baseball team – experiences I wouldn’t give up for all the anime in Akihabara, but not enough to enamor me to the Charm City.
But I did, and I am, and I’m cool with that. I’m even sticking around, despite everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks. This is partly my doing – I had been so busy blaming other people for putting me into my current bind that I forgot the only decisions I can control are my own. I stayed mum when I had reservations. I decided to have faith in others instead of trusting my own intuition. I put someone else’s short-term happiness ahead of my long-term well-being.
Decisions. Well, I’ve made one more.
I’ve been playing "go along to get along" for too long. No longer. I'm not saying "My way or the highway", but I'm also not letting your way put me on the highway. If your decision is not in my best interest, I will let you know.
Dark side ascendant, beeyatch!
As you all may know, I rarely blog. With everything that has gone on this year, though, I thought it would be good to reflect. At first glance, I would have to rate 2007 as one of the toughest years I can remember. I lost my job and my home, I was diagnosed with hypertension and diabetes, I turned 35 for crying out loud!When I take a moment to truly reflect, I see that everything that happened to me this year was for the best. I lost my home, sure, and found a new one - in a city I love with very good roommates. I even rediscovered my ability to be social, imagine that! I was laid off from Whitman-Walker in March, no longer part of a cause I believed fervently in. One month later, I was rehired, and in a role that offers me the chance to effect real change into an organization that needs it. Finding out I had hypertension and diabetes, and self-inflicted, no less, forced me to change the way I live. I was at offensive lineman weight at my heaviest - now I've got my linebacker figure back, and I'm shooting for running back weight. (For all you non-football types, I've lost 30 pounds, and I'm going for another 30.)So, you see, everything does happen for a reason - or to really cliche it up, when one door closes, three open. Whatever you call this time of year, celebrate it with your family, friends, colleagues and loved ones, and remember the positive.Hug your loved ones, reach out to old friends, be civil to the ones you don't know. Thank those that have done you a good turn, and forgive those that may have done you wrong. Turn disaster into challenge, turn challenge into achievement, turn achievement into charity, turn charity into love.Accept the differences in others, because if you don't, you will be truly alone.Peace and love,Chris