Register Sunday | December 16 | 2018

The Prodigal Son Returns

"The weekend was brilliant, could be broken up into any number of different blogs, and none of them would be about the same thing."

I have returned from the land of sun, fog, and skydiving to over 150 work e-mails and way too many personal ones, 5 bins of mail, more voicemail than I know what to do with and a stack of paper that seems to have appeared on my desk, though I was away.

I feel something like a mole-blind, slightly deaf, and burrowing my way through some dark, dank tunnels. Perhaps I'll get a chance to rear my head up to the daylight, but I doubt it. Plus, it's my sister's birthday tomorrow. (Happy early Birthday!)
The weekend was brilliant, could be broken up into any number of different blogs, and none of them would be about the same thing. Not one false step all weekend, just too good and a good kick to my soul. I loved it. Lucia and Shai (2 skydives, Lucia! 2!!!! I'm hooked. When do you go up again?), old friends, my old (now really ugly) house, my old (now completely corporate and unrecognizable) high school, old teachers, Steve and Susan (who was, by all accounts, the personification of radiance), even the night at the bar in what turned out to be a mini mini high school reunion of sorts, standing next to people I haven't seen in 10 years (did I just write that? 10 years? 10 YEARS MAN! TEN! TEN! YEARS! Christ.), over half of whom I hadn't remembered existed, and could just soon not have been reminded, even that was brilliant. And then there was Liz. Just too good all around.

So please excuse me while I unburden my professional life. The red-eye flight sucks, but the extra day made it all worth while. I will try to write about all of this soon, but in truth will probably only manage one or two of them at best. It's good to be back, returning to New York City is always a rush, but after staring at this mountain of electronic and paper mish mash, I'm thinking it'd be even better to be gone.

Peace.