Paradise

Wow. Hell of a vacation. I'd have to say that the only drawback to the 3 days in bloody paradise would be the fact that any vacation forthwith will positively pale in comparison. Well, that and the raging sunburn. Ow.

Good company, good times, and hot damn what a fucking place. The accomodations themselves were definitely nice, with inidividual air conditioning units for each room, lush sofas in the living room. But to be honest, the interior wasn't what blew me away. Private swimming pool, private 4-seater golf buggy, well-maintained and prettied-up garden, and the whole shebang wasn't more than a stone's throw away from the beach. No, literally. And what a beach. Unbelievably sparse population for as far as the eye can see, beautiful blue water (bright aquamarine in direct sunlight), and the sand. Oh, the sand. Sand so fine it fucking squeaks when you walk on it. Again, literally. Walking on that sand never got old.

I spent a good deal of the time in or by the aforementioned pool. Swimming, playing ball with the rest of the group, goofing off, sunning, smoking (none of this "let's smoke by the pool" shit; no, no, we dragged the ashtray to the edge of the pool and smoked in the pool). I never thought I'd see myself waking up early, and hitting up the pool for a few laps before making some breakfast. A good chunk of the remainder was spent on the beach. Taking long walks, swimming, goofing off, bird-watching. Hell, I even hit up some body boarding.

Spent a good chunk of time just sitting on the balcony shooting the bull, and getting buzzed on sweet wine. Good times.

Sunrise and sunset were positively stunning. Sunset brought out some lovely colors, from fiery yellows and oranges, to a divine shade of lilac to the east. But sunrise. Now that truly completed the vacation. Hell, I woke up at 5 in the morning just for that.

I gotta say, leaving that place sucked. Big time. I could seriously get used to life like that. But then, that's what a million clams gets you. Here's hoping another opportunity comes up.

"If you love somebody...

...set them free."

Sting is an asshole.

Forty-two

What a number. Wouldn't it be great if that magic number really did answer all? Life would be so much simpler if you could throw a window open and holler the number at the top of your lungs and figure out the solutions to life's mysteries.

When is it really time to let go of something, someone, important? Isn't that a doozy of a question. When you step back and look at things, when you realize that hanging on may be causing more harm than good, more pain than elation; is that when you let go? Is that when you finally say it's time? Or do you fight on, trying to make things better, knowing full well that that may just make things worse; drag out the hurt, kill the good. When two people love each other, are they truly supposed to let go?

I don't know. Maybe my buddies Jack and Stoli can shed some light. Alternatively, they'll nurse me into an anesthetic stupor, take me to a place where none of this truly matters, at least for a few hours.

It's occurred to me that my current playlist probably isn't helping my mood.

The only thing that sucks about Serenity...

...is that it makes me want more. Here's hoping it makes enough to get the wheels turning on another movie or series deal. I believe Joss Whedon said something about $50mil domestic (US), or $80mil internationally.

To expand a little on the mystery movie deal. Serenity isn't slated for theatrical release in Singapore until January, so I was pretty bummed when I found out. The mystery movie deal mentioned a PG-rated sci-fi flick that hadn't been screened in theatres here before. Its running time was listed as 120 minutes. Seemed close enough that our hopeful minds convinced us that it had to be Serenity. Setting ourselves up for a huge disappointment, the three of us gathered at the theatre, hoping beyond hope. I think if any tears were shed, they were brought on by sheer elation. We were like three little boys in a candy shop. :)

Here's hoping for more Firefly.

I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.

Productivity...

...or lack thereof.

It's been a slow couple weeks. Work that I've been meaning or needing to get done has progressed at absolute snails' pace. My ADD seems to have kicked into high gear, so much so that there are days I can't even sit through an entire song without skipping down the playlist. I can't focus on any one thing long enough to even get anything insignificant done. I've gotten almost no art done, lacking any sort of vision to create anything, and lacking the attention span to even do a quick still life study. I figured I had to do something, since this was going nowhere, and fast.

So. In the last few days, I've applied for a BS (as in, not bullshot) course in Information and Communications Technology at a local university, picked up a copy of David Allen's Getting Things Done (the term GTD has been bandied around so fucking much in Tablet and management circles that I just had to see what the fuss was about, and it looks pretty promising; I'll update as I read more). I've also been exploring the 30-day trial of GoBinder 2005. Been looking into organizational articles, time management, note taking tips, and compiling all kinds of shit into GoBinder so I can mark them up if I see fit. Also finally got me a fucking haircut. In typical me fashion, I don't fuck around when I get my haircuts, so it's real short and neat again.

GoBinder's a real piece of work. I'm liking what I'm seeing, but as with all software, there are little quirks and niggles that simply piss me off. Thankfully a good deal of them are being addressed in the 2006 edition, which apparently is very close to release. Free upgrade, too, god bless 'em. Been following some Tablet- and organization/management-focused blogs lately, chief among them Tracy and Trev's The Student Tablet PC, and Michael Hyatt's Working Smart.

So, that's my last couple weeks in a nutshell.

Oh, might be catching Serenity tonight. "Might," in this context, doesn't refer to the possibility of going to the theatre. No, it simply means that we literally don't know what they're screening. A buddy clued me in on some mystery flick being screened tonight, and common sense (or wishful thinking) tells us that it's got to be Serenity. If it isn't, well, with all this buildup there'll be at least three guys walking out of the theatre crying like little girls. Alternatively it could be a really awful flick that we can MST3K. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.