The jobs were one lesson in impermanence since they were all short-term. Unlike the grocery store, where I stayed on for one reason or another even though I hated it, I didn’t have to stick around if I didn’t want to. I could always move on to something else, provided I found something. At the same time, I found my relationships with people weren’t always permanent, whether I had control or not.

With one good friend I had in the late 1990′s, I found him increasingly difficult to deal with and I ended the friendship. We have since reconciled and are good friends again, but I couldn’t handle his contrariness and what I perceived as his negativity at the time.

I found that even professional relationships weren’t always built on rock. With the professor I call Joseph K, this was definitely the case. This man who’s night course I took to satisfy an American Lit requirement quickly became my mentor, advocate, and friend. However, he ejected me as quickly as he took me in. At the same time, my loyalty did erode towards the end, and nothing could fix it. For a while, our relationship was a shaky one, but all it took was one act of betrayal. Expanding my professional ties resulted in one being severed.

In contrast to those two examples, I have been fortunate to have some longtime friends. My longtime friend Avril is one such person. We’ve known each other for almost 20 years, meeting at FIDM and then loosely staying in contact for a few years on and off until the late 1990′s. We even managed to find time to hang out and transportation was bitch for both of us.* A few years ago, Avril discovered she had British citizenship connected with her mother and having been born in Scotland, so she got her passport, flew off to Europe, and never looked back. She’s been back to visit here in San Diego a few times, but she’s found her home in Europe. Obviously, we can’t hang out as much, but I count her among my closest friends.

Friends and acquaintances have come and gone from my life, but now we’re one big happy digital family on Facebook. Even that doesn’t provide any measure of permanence as some unfriend for a variety of reasons, especially as one can unfriend me or I unfriend them. Co-workers may drift back into my online life, but do I really connect with them? Or did those relationships proved to be as impermanent as the jobs I knew them from?

Brian, one of my East Coast blog friends, mentioned this morning waking up from a nightmare where someone tries to mug him. At least it’s one where he tries to go down fighting. For me, it brought to mind the Cure’s “Close to Me,” but I also remembered a few nightmares of my own.

When I was around four or five years old, I went with my father on Disneyworld’s Haunted Mansion ride. I don’t remember details about what I saw. All I remember was that I was scared, crying, and hugging my father. For several years after that, I had many dreams where I was on the ride, but the details kept getting more and more embellished with every dream. I don’t know if hands sticking out of a door nailed shut was an original feature, but I frequently saw it. Later on, I saw a gigantic, glowing spiderweb. I never saw any spider, but I was fascinated by how big and bright it was. When I was in the fifth grade and there was a family trip to Disneyland, I had to go on the Haunted Mansion ride. This time, to my eleven year old mind, it was fun, but cheesy. I never had the dreams again, but I would always remember them. All those years I think my mind was just trying to make sense of it all.

When I was in my mid-twenties, I dreamed that I witnessed a gay bashing. Some poor man was chased by another with a pipe and I horrified. I was frozen and all I could do was scream. However, there was no sound and I woke up trying to make noise out of a muted cry. I was in my fundamentalist period at the time, and I now see it as a manifestation of internalized homophobia.

Thankfully, I’ve never had a dream about my head on the door. That would have been too freaky.

Last night, my friend Sharon and I went out for dinner at Muzita Bistro, a self-styled Abyssinian restaurant in University Heights. The food is very similar to Ethiopian cuisine. There are several Ethiopian restaurants in San Diego, such as Harar, but Muzita is definitely several steps up from them. The food is excellent and the decor is modern, but comfortable. The owner, Abel, has the unusual gift of talking to anyone and showing interest in what they say. However, he matches his friendliness with an efficiency in taking care of his customers, periodically checking on them to see if there’s anything they need.

Sharon and I went a family style plate where we shared two entrees, two sides, and a salad all on a bed of injera (pictured above). Two stews served as our entrees, Tshebi Dhoro (the chicken one with the eggs) and the Beggie Kilwa (with lamb) and the sides consisted of lentils and some spicy vegetables. All of it was very good and we got full quickly, especially with roll after roll of injera to scoop it up.

Regarding drinks, Muzita offers Ethiopian beers and wine, and some soju cocktails for a small fusion touch. Sharon and I decided to try the honey wine and it was very good, and it complimented the food like the server promised. When Sharon asked if the server knew how the wine was made, she replied the owner keeps that a secret. Abel’s worked hard to get this place right, so he’s entitled to some trade secrets.

Sharon and I made a toast to friendship, as we’ve known each other for eight years. I met her along with her boyfiend Brian when I was in graduate school and I count them as a couple of my closest friends. We also have a few mutual friends, such as Nadia, whom we met in our graduate programs.

Sharon and I also made a toast to surviving the Bu$h era. Our graduate school careers (and those of our mutual friends) took place largely in the Bu$h era, and even our lives afterwards had that shadow over them. That era was over and we also made a toast to the new era of Obama.

No visit to the restaurant is complete without me taking pictures. I’ve taken pictures of the food and the drink. I’ve taken a few more and Sharon took one of me, but I also played around with the salt and pepper shakers and the candle. I’ve put more of the pics up on Facebook.

I would definitely make a return visit. The price is $$, but worth it.

Avril sent me three cards from Ireland, but I’m missing one. I got it, but I can’t seem to find it. So what could have been the Irish triptych is now a diptych.

Ireland is full of writers and poets, some famous ones in fact. Here is a stern portrait of William Butler Yeats:

The next one is best experienced in person: a holographic promo postcard for MotoRokr:

The French postcards are a triptych set for sure. Avril sent me these on three seperate days when she was visiting France shortly before she moved there, so I will show present them in chronological order.

No visit to France is complete without a visit to Paris. Avril’s been there a few times and she loves it:

Avril recently moved to Lyon, and this was sent from a visit to her then prospective new town:

Avril had the chance to visit Pérouges, Cité Médiévale:

I always enjoy getting postcards from Avril and I’ll blog some new ones in the future.

Disclaimer: The numbers displayed in the image above do not belong to any of my friends. 1/14/08, 11:00am.

Drunk phone calls are always fun to get. Actually, they’re not. One of the most dangerous things about mobile phones, especially in the hands of the inebriated, is the ease of getting a hold of people and having no qualms about harassing them. Even better yet is when they leave those messages on the voicemail system that they’ll have no memory of, yet are all too painful for the recipients.

A certain friend of mine is prone to doing all kinds of things when he’s had too much to drink. Sometimes, it’s something amusing such as spending several hundred dollars on sustainable fashion. Other times, his drunkenness takes a more dramatic turn as he’ll show a more temperamental side. Of course, there’s no better way to express this than on the phone.

A couple of nights ago at a local bar, what started out a fun get-together turned into a personal issues-laden conversation on the verge of becoming an argument. I simply refused to entertain the argument, called it a night, and went home. When I arrived home, I checked my phone and found I had a four-minute voicemail message from him. He rambled about how offended he was about me blowing him off, that I was wrong, and that he was taking a hard-line stance in not having anything to do with me until I apologized.

I found the message both offensive and laughable at the same time. I plugged my iPhone to my desktop stereo, put the speakers close to my iBook’s microphone, played the message and recorded it, and formatted it into an MP3 file.* I then decided to apply the expression “If they could only hear themselves talk” to this situation. I would send him the MP3 as an e-mail attachment.

I wanted to send out an e-mail rant to him about his message explaining to him my position and how he was wrong. I also considered forwarding the MP3 to mutual friends. However, I settled on simply sending the file with the message: Do you even remember saying any of this?

This friend of mine called me the next morning to apologize and I let him know that the message was disturbing. While I’m not sure if he actually listened to the file, I did remind him that I sent it and that I would record another MP3 if he ever gave a repeat performance.

While I accepted his apology, there are still serious some issues. He uttered words that can’t be taken back. If I didn’t accept his apology, years of friendship would have been all for nothing. The things he said were definite deal breakers. Well, he broke the deal and then he realized what he did when he was sober the next morning. Also, there are records of what he said. The message is in my phone’s memory unless I choose to delete it. Also, I still have the Quicktime recording and the MP3 formatted file. If these messages begin to be enough for an EP or an album worth of tracks, then I have to seriously consider if it’s worth it to remain friends.

It would be easy to say that people like my friend should think about the things they say. If incidents like my friend’s message are a habit versus an isolated incident, the perpetrator should consider that they might have a serious problem with alcohol and that they need some PROFESSIONAL help.

Being able to remember the antics of drunk people is a horrible responsibility. Dealing with them is much worse. For me, I had a horrible end to my evening and one that sapped my energy for the next day or so. However, there are people who suffer through a lot worse. In any case, people should be aware of the impact of their behavior upon others, especially when it comes to alcohol. Sorry, but all those drinks do not completely negate accountability.

*I’m sure there’s a more efficient way to record a voicemail from the iPhone to the Macbook, but I haven’t figured it out yet.

Why do it? Sure it’s going to cost some in paper and stamps, but isn’t Internet usage cheaper? Yes and no. Despite the urban legends, there isn’t a charge to send and e-mail and I’m not aware of any pending cyber-tax. However, many of us pay for e-mail in that we pay a lot of fees for internet usage. Some people do all their e-mail from work. Fine, but those us who don’t have that privilege, we pay for home internet signals and even data plans for our phones. Also, some places like to charge money for WIFI signals, and even if they don’t, we all wind up spending more money in coffee. It’s a false economy for sure.

Besides, which makes your day more – a paper letter from someone you care about or an e-mail from them. I’ll take paper over bytes any day.

I’ve been interacting with Chris, Brian, and Fredo through the blogosphere for the past two years, which has also taken to Twitterville (for Brian and Fredo) and Facebook. I’ve met all three of these guys in person in a one year period, and I look forward to more blog correspondence in the future.

With Joshua Minton, I found a friend who was putting forth his BFA creative writing afterlife on his blog. He put his fiction, poetry, rants, and articles out there. Actually, it was one of his articles on Every Writer’s Resource that got me in touch with him. While there isn’t a high level of blog banter and interaction going on between us, I read his Online Pulpit regularly and I have the upmost respect for him.

There are a couple of other bloggers I’ve met in that period, but those mentioned above have been a more significant part of my experience with ShindoTV and the blogosphere.

In the latter part of 2008, I started attending the local blog and Twitter meetups. On the surface, they were parties with lots of alcohol, but I’ve been making some new friends and some online contacts. One such friend is Melodie, who has shown up in some posts as a recurring character, and Rich, aka richandcreamy, who has been commenting on my blog lately. Along with developing some real time friendships, I hope to develop some good blog friendships amongs some of the local bloggers as well this year.

I’ve come across some interesting blogs out there as random people out there started following me on Twitter. Scott Campbell is a writer out in New York City with a quirky blog name, ThePete, which provides a lot of pointed commentary and discusses various projects. Another’s a more anonymous blogger, One Mean MFA, who’s currently working on the graduate creative writing degree and posts on teaching and the writing life. I’m following both of them for sure.

Then there are people I meet briefly and they move to other towns. Tamika‘s one such person and I’ve gotten to know her a bit more through all the Facebook witticisms and her blog. We’ll hang out a bit whether she visits San Diego in the future or if I head out to visit Dallas. I look forward to chatting it up in real time again, but I’m tuning in to the Gran Diva in the mean time.

I may come across some cool people to add to this community this year. Also, I hope that those I met also continue to enhance my blogging experience and I theirs. As for me, no flight plan, no problem. Here’s to seeing where this blog takes me in 2009.

The owner was offering some kind of spinach special today, but neither of us were feeling very adventurous. It was hard to go wrong with anything from their sandwich selection and also a few of the appetizers. We got four of the appetizers and shared them between us.

First photo, clockwise: Baba ganoush, pita, hummus, stuffed grape leaves . Second Photo: Rekakat.

Brian had the falafel sandwhich (not pictured), while I went with the beef shwarma. As far as the shwarma offerings in various San Diego places – no comparison. This one is too good, almost putting me in a food coma.

I haven’t been by a Starbucks yesterday morning, but no problem. Who needs the Christmas blend when you can have the thick Turkish coffee in a tiny cup. That small shot kept me going all day, and even drinking the sludge was part of the fun. Finishing things off, there was this goat milk pudding with honey and pistachio nuts. I don’t know what the name of it, but it was absolutely delicious.

Overall, good food, good times, minimal bill shock. Now if I can only find somewhere as good as Sunnin in San Diego.

Much to Nadia’s amusement, Sharon and I took pictures of the food, starting with the chorizo and goat cheese flat bread. This was our starter.

Nadia ordered the picnic plate with the potato salad and cole slaw. This time, there was no confusion.

I ordered the same thing as I did last time. I freely shared the sauerkraut with my friends. Sauerkraut’s going to have it’s day and Trader Joe’s will stock it. Only, they don’t carry it now. Trader Joe’s, how do you expect me to replicate this $$ experience on the cheap?

Sharon ordered the butternut squash with Israeli couscous. Wonderful vegetarian option, but Sharon has a link.

After dinner, before dessert, Sharon gave us some Dove’s chocolates. The insides of the wrappers were like fortune cookies.

Mine said “Be Fearless” and “Smile Before You Go To Bed. You’ll Sleep Better.”

Sharon’s read, “There’s a time for compromise. It’s called later.”

Nadia’s read, “Send a love letter this week.”

Dessert was lovely. Sharon, Nadia, and I all shared the carrot cake with lemon cream cheese icing.

While the food was great, the best part of the evening was being able to catch up with Sharon and Nadia. Happy Holidays, friends.

I started reading an interesting book about Starbucks, that went by the wayside. I picked it up again this week, an interesting read so far. I finished Deer Hunting With Jesus some time ago, and I’ll do a post on it soon.

At the language school, I had a very cool group. While not the rowdy crowd of last summer’s Ju-Ju story, this group was intelligent and eager to learn. There was a retired psychologist from Germany whose husband was conducting the Wagner opera now playing in San Diego. While I’m not a regular opera goer, I must go to this one as this is too good of a story to let it end without me going.

Right now, it’s faculty development week at several of the schools I teach. I briefly saw Rob and chatted a bit, but we were at the English department meeting for the school where we both teach. We’ll most likely stay sane through making postcards and pursuing other creative avenues, and then reading each other’s blog entries about it.

Earlier this afternoon, a friend of mine called me to tell me Heath Ledger died. Right after I finished talking to him, I called Gary, my friend the former Baptist minister/Brokeback Mountain afficionado, and left a message on his voice mail. It only seemed right as he was the novella’s biggest proponent (among the people I know) and he got all his friends to see the movie the night of its release. Heath Ledger in his portrayal of Ennis had touched Gary’s life on some level. After he called me back, I learned a few other of his friends, including our mutual friend Jaylen, called him with the news as well.

Then there are the friends who annoy me. Well, one friend, Mr Pushy, who invited me as his guest to a party he was invited to. On Saturday, the day of the party, I got cold feet after hanging out with my uncle all day. I wanted to have some time alone, so I called him to bail out of it. I made the mistake of asking him if he would be offended if I didn’t come instead of simply telling him why I did not want to go. He then told me he would be, making me feel cornered. I didn’t have a bad time at the party, but it didn’t leave me feeling good about him as a friend. There was something else, but I can’t talk about it. However, it bothered me for the past couple of days. I tried calling him yesterday, but couldn’t get a hold of him. I finally got a hold of him and aired my gripes. From his end, my trying to back out of the party pissed him off as he RSVP’d.

I explained my position, where I told him the reasons why, and he in turn tried explained his reasons. I don’t think we’ll ever quite agree here. Somehow, I left the conversation feeling like being his friend was more of a chore than before. He seems to be of the mindset that when you say you’re going to do something, you should do it. He’s not crazy about people changing their minds. He told me it was something he was working on himself. How come attempts at personal growth have the ironic effect where they are hard on you when you reflect their faults?

I feel if someone tries to communicate their trying to back out, it’s better than some other ways they could go about it. There’s one time honored, passive aggressive means of bailing out: standing someone up. I didn’t do that.

He said I had a pattern of “doing this” (which I don’t quite understand). I always love it when people make abstract cases like this, especially since he didn’t seem to have the time nor desire to explain it. While I can’t think other attempts to flake out right off the top of my head, he might hold my refusal to go out with him to the bars when he has the itch to go out against me.

I guess I really should think about why I resist being social with this friend, especially at times when he seems to need me.