Wednesday, July 21, 2010

A Book Publishing Mantra

You may not realize it, but there is a phrase heard in book publishing houses all across North America on a daily basis. To call it a mantra is imprecise. It is more accurate to call it an exclamation or epithet.

Here it is:

"Get that whackjob's review off of amazon!" Or, a variant: "Get that nutjob's review off of amazon."

This phrase is uttered after (and only after) an author who compulsively checks his amazon "ranking," and searches for new reviews, finds one that offends his sensitive temperament. He will then call his agent or his editor, who will then call someone in sales or marketing, and utter one of the phrases above. Or something that means the same thing. Then the salesperson begins the tedious process of assessing the review to determine if anything in it can truthfully called "unfair." If so, then begins a month-long flurry of email exchanges flying (in my case) from the East Coast to Seattle and back. And after that, if amazon agrees, anything a reasonable person may find offensive or unfair is removed from the amazon website.

Just another reason that the book industry will always need salespeople!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Starting Over Again

Well, just came to an understanding with somebody with whom I'd had a couple of dates. I made the mistakes of being too nice, too eager, too open, and too vulnerable, trying too hard, being over-analytical and presenting a facade of insecurity. The opportunity to date this person came out of left field, and not having dated in YEARS, I don't know the rules. Now my emotional "walls" are thicker and stronger than ever and I'm not sure when I will ever be trusting enough to date again. If ever I do date again, I have learned some very valuable lessons about keeping myself less excited and more cautious. (And when I say that, I imply NO mistrust of the other person, who is truly a great individual in difficult circumstances. I am talking about trusting myself to be self-disciplined.)

I can't really articulate all the things I'm feeling right now, but as I sort them out, I know that things will be fine. But for now, I am falling into the trap of shutting down, isolating myself and basically being unavailable. Thankfully, I have the old fallback of work--and there is plenty of it to do. I will bury myself in work and travel and exploring new things in new places to keep my mind focused on what is in my control, and not focused on what is over and done.

It hurts like hell, but soon, the pain will pass. I know that from experience.

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Non-smoker's Journey

Okay, for anyone still following along in this little corner of the interwebs, it's just now approaching 2:30am on Wednesday, July 7th. That also means (24 + 7) 31 hours without a cigarette. The withdrawal symptom I most feared has not happened: irritability. I have remained as happy as ever, as far as I can tell. (Have I snapped at YOU? Lol.)

Other symptoms of withdrawal, some surprising to me, have happened. Fitful sleep, which I've always had, but now just seems even more pronounced. Sort of like a car that needed new shocks, but now also has flat tires. But at night #2, I am resisting ANY sort of meds. No Ambien, no Lunesta; no Valium, no Xanax, no Ativan (in fact, nothing from the benzodiazapine family). I'd rather suffer the symptoms as my body detoxifies, at least from the nicotine. The success rate for quitting Heroin is twice as high as the success rate for quitting cigarette smoking. This will soon be a real feather in my cap!

Indigestion like crazy. I must have been eating Pepcid like candy today. But I just took a Pepcid Complete to help get me through the night. So, correction to the above paragraph: one med to help get me through the night.

Another withdrawal symptom: inability to focus. An expense report this morning had errors in 3 separate line items. That has NEVER happened to me. First one was an error in calculating mileage; second was an error in which I entered a subtotal rather than a total from a receipt. The third was an error where I mis-calculated tolls from the RFK Bridge (formerly known as the Triboro Bridge). Now, in spite of these errors, I can, at nearly 2:30am, recall them clearly. I can also tell you that taking all three of these errors into consideration, my expense report was still only eight cents from what the correct amount is.

A little bit of light-headedness is also striking me from time-to-time, but cigarettes also did that, so no big deal.

I think of having a cigarette periodically, but I am not dwelling on it. That pleases me.

A higher energy level is something else I'm feeling. I kept thinking of productive things to do today after work. Among those "productive" things was addressing another symptom of withdrawal: sky-high libido. Nowhere in the literature that I have seen is increased libido a symptom of nicotine withdrawal. I think I remember reading somewhere that smoking suppresses the libido. If that's the case, DAMN. Forget saltpeter in prison--give 'em nicotine. I had to "take matters into my own hands" more than once after work today.

My personal history is full of instances of over-analyzing things. That has also become more noticeable to me. Things between the Good Nurse and me ended many months ago. I had decided to hide myself away in work, and in so doing, hide myself away from the world so that dating ever again would not be something necessary for me to face. I had it all worked out. My need for social activities could be satisfied by the occasional vist to the Web for Saturday night karaoke, at which there is rarely more than 6 people, anyway. No risk of "falling" for someone. My need for time on the beach or time in the mountains could easily be married with my work travel. But then something strange happened. Someone I met during basketball several years back invited me to pop by a place called the Cage in Hoboken, NJ, for karaoke the last Friday of May this year. There I became reacquainted with another basketball mate whom I remembered, but who did not remember me. (Subsequent to this meeting, I even proved to him I remembered him by correctly telling him the color jersey he wore when our teams played each other.) So, cut to today. We have spent some time together. And, as par for me, I am over-analyzing every-damn-thing. And it's even crazier in my head with nicotine withdrawal. If the basketball mate doesn't disappear during nicotine withdrawal, maybe there's hope yet. The weirdest part, though? While ethnically, the Good Nurse and Basketball Mate are very, very different, their parents come from the same general area. Same area as the Marcos' in the Philippines. And, they both are related to the Marcos,' meaning that they might be related to each other. Now try not to over-analyze that my friend, and then we can talk.

I suppose that's about it for right now. As a reminder, this is my blog, written by me, for me. You are merely being allowed a glance at what I write. So if you don't like this, move along. If you are a friend or loved one, your input is welcome. :-)