Of course, our real anniversary present will come late in the summer when we whisk off to the coast of Oregon for a three-day “Second (First) Honeymoon” vacation (we never took a honeymoon when we got married, so we have a hard time deciding if this is the first, or the second). But I couldn’t NOT get her something for the day itself, could I? That just wouldn’t do at all. And she loves the TJ’s Mocha cans, so it was a perfect fit, really.

Now, those of you who know my wife see a side of her that is generally pleasant. She’s smart, beautiful, kind, thoughtful, a wonderful mother, and a caring friend. And all of those are absolutely some of her more endearing qualities. But you don’t see the side I see every day. The side that is roaring furnace of righteous anger. The side that is cold and calculating. You’ll notice that there aren’t many letters that differ between the words “anniversary” and “adversary“. My wife is in every possible way my worst enemy. She is demanding and honest. Brutally so, sometimes.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You see, I’m an extremely lucky man in that my wife knows me better than I know myself. She knows that I’m capable of doing and being more than I allow myself to be today. And she pushes me with every ounce of strength and patience she can muster to force me to realize my own potential. She does it with the kids, too. But in a gentler way because, well, they’re kids. And I’m a grown-up. Or at least that’s what they tell me I’m supposed to be.

But I don’t want to be a grown-up. And I don’t necessarily have to be. Even my wife doesn’t force me to be any more mature than I am. But she does remind me that I am to be responsible. For my family, and for myself. Every missed opportunity, every moment’s hesitation, every dumb mistake, she’s there to put them on display. Not so she can shove failures in my face and cherish a false sense of superiority. But to remind me that I am better than that, and why don’t I just step up and prove it?

(Don’t worry – I see the loving and caring side of her, too. Quite a bit, actually! And while that side of her is wonderful, it isn’t the part that makes me a better person. The loving and caring side is what makes me want to be a better person.)

And that is why I am grateful for every single day of the past ten years I have spent married to this absolutely amazing woman. This woman who has the patience and fortitude to deal with a bumbling idiot like me, and push me to focus on loving what I do, and doing what I love.

I don’t deserve her. And don’t think I won’t fight with all my strength to ensure that I get to keep her. For another ten years, and hopefully, for many more.

I love you, Amanda.

(PS – can I have one of those cafe mocha cans? You don’t need all eight of them, do you? Just curious.)

First of all, Townpoints is apparently not a daily deal site. It’s a weekly deal site, from the looks of it. They highlight a single merchant for an entire week, allowing you ample time to get in on the deals, and earn plenty of points.

Yes, that’s right: earn points. Townpoints doesn’t just have a deal, it’s also somewhat like a hyper-local rewards card. Every time you participate in a merchant’s deal, you gain some number of points for your account. Points can be accumulated and traded in for even more deals with either the same, or (presumably) other merchants in the future.

For example, the current featured merchant for this week is Being There Coffee (@btcoffee). You can purchase a $15 gift certificate for the coffee house for only $7. Which also earns you 50 space bucks (or Townpoints points, if you prefer). And, in addition to that, you can also tell others about the coffee house via Twitter, Facebook, or email referrals, and earn even more space bucks on top of that. Points can then be redeemed for things like free coffee and pastries. Alternatively, saving up 1,000 points can get a coffee drink named after you at BT. Which is a pretty cool idea, but I doubt anyone will want to drink a Nathaniel Payne Mocha (or the “Natty Pocha”, as it would inevitably be called, but even that sounds undrinkable and a little too much like a Hungarian band from the 70s).

No doubt the daily deal coupon space is getting crowded by the day, and most activity is being pushed to the outer limits by monster deal sites Groupon and LivingSocial. Another local startup in this space called DSM Daily will be launching soon, and it will be interesting to see what they focus on and how their service differs from the others on the market. Because the ultimate factors in people deciding where to spend their money will come down to this: just how good is the deal, and what all do I get out of it?

With Townpoints, it seems like they are going the route of highly-customized promotional solutions for local merchants, focusing on a week-long campaign that rewards people for telling their friends about the merchant. The discount deal itself is almost an afterthought here, the service instead using that to pull people in, and then drawing their attention (in a very Farmville-esque  manner, I think) towards racking up points and earning special rewards. Which in turn benefits both the merchant through word-of-mouth advertising and low-cost promotional opportunities, as well as the customer who gains those rewards.

It’s a pretty slick platform, if you ask me, and I really look forward to seeing what future weeks bring for the service. I love supporting local businesses, and any service that brings attention to lesser known establishments is a plus. Here’s hoping future deals are just as good as this week’s, and that everyone finds something they can like there.

“I’ll take one tall Natty Pocha with extra cream.”

Nah, still don’t like it.

NOTE: I’m not an investor in Townpoints, nor do I work for them in any capacity, up to and including not being paid to promote them. Just thought it was an interesting service worthy of a post.

Stop playing childish games and just approve the budget so you can back to bickering about truly pointless things and being generally irrelevant and overpaid.

This isn’t funny.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Consituent

Programming.

Not my original intent, mind you. When I conceived of this little project for myself, I had envisioned short stories, drawings, paintings, and music. All the usual sub-standard trappings of what we like to term the “creative arts”. An opening of my heart, an outpouring of raw, unfiltered emotion. We’re talking about Lifetime Original Movie sort of content. But then a couple of weeks ago, I thought “Hey! Why not take my shabby little game database, and make a sweet looking website out of it for my creative project?” And so I did.

And then, once I posted the site online, I had yet another thought (you can see where this sort of thing could get dangerous), where I thought “Hey! Doing this sort of thing in HTML is time-consuming and clunky. I’ll bet I could teach myself to create a more dynamic website!” And so, after asking around on Twitter a bit, I bought a PHP/MySQL book, and did just that.

Now, I am consumed. Consumed by the power of PHP and MySQL. Brilliant sparks of creative thought flash against the empty interior of my skull and scream for attention. What I could build with just these two hands and a shaky understanding of relational database schemas! What worlds I could create through the power of a poorly-structured SQL query! What tapestries I could paint with a severely lacking comprehension of PHP arrays!

I have become like a GOD. (But not an awesome one like God, but more like the fake, lesser ones, like one of those that the Israelites worshipped when they fled Egypt. You know, like Baal.)

But the beautiful drawings? The mesmerizing wordsmithery? GONE are the days of stirring the soul with pens and imagery. No, sir! I shall stir the soul with gorgeous variables, gently laced with dollar signs and carefully-placed semi-colons! I shall pierce the heart with a fitting SQL login script, and render it mute with a caress of lovingly-crafted FOR/EACH statements.

You cry out “LOVE!” and I shall cry out “echo ‘Yes, ‘.$love.’ indeed.’;“

(The above may or may not have been written completely in jest, at a moment of weakness brought on by a code-induced frenzy. But I will say this: I really do love programming. But not more than words, because, jeez. A man’s gotta TALK.)

So, here I am.

Today marks the beginning of March, which feels utterly impossible. Both January and February felt as though they each lasted no more than a week, and I desperately hope that this does not continue, as I have no desire to experience 2011 in just a scant twelve weeks’ time. An entire year in the space of three months? That just wouldn’t be fair.

Part of the reason for the speedy pass through the beginning of this year has to be due to just how much we have had to endure in this short time. And I’m not talking about the weather. I’m talking about my family. February especially was a hard month for us. I spent two weeks in Brazil on a business trip managing a software implementation in one of our factories. During this time, I developed a rather unpleasant intestinal bug that kept me from feeling my best. I thought I had it pretty bad, that is until my wife sent me a text message in the middle of the night near the end of my trip informing me that she had taken our young son Alex to the hospital. He was sick with the stomach flu and was dehydrated and unresponsive.

I returned from my trip on Friday, where my brother picked me up at the airport and took me straight over to the hospital to be with my boy. It was a difficult couple of days, but he was doing better over the weekend, and finally released on Sunday. The past couple of days, he’s been back to his old self, which is a frustration in and of itself for completely different reasons, but at least he can smile again, and that is truly a blessing.

In the meantime, between the travel and family concerns, I haven’t spent a decent minute on my ongoing creative project challenge for 2011. Which, I’ll admit, is a trivial thing when compared to everything else that has happened recently. However, now that things have begun to return to some semblance of normalcy, I’m determined to produce something for this week, and then we’ll see about going back and filling in some of the blank weeks with extra projects. I’m absolutely of the mind that by the time 2012 begins, I will have fifty-two completed creative projects, and I will not allow myself to succumb to laziness or ineptitude and have my challenge go unfulfilled.

I will succeed at this.

And so the great ancient thirteenth month of Smarch rears its hoary head and opens its gaping maw, issuing forth monstrous, wracking gusts of dismay and horror to torment our poor heroes. But we continue onward, pulling our cloaks about us, steadfastly marching towards the next seemingly insurmountable obstacle, the next ordeal, the next painful trial.

And as we struggle forth, we look the unspeakable horrors of this earth in their dead, black eyes and we say “You cannot harm us, for we are Paynes, and we invented agony.”

Sorry, went off the rails a bit there, didn’t I? In any case, we’ll be fine. Here’s hoping the rest of 2011 passes a bit more slowly than the first sixth of the year already has.

Then, sometime in the middle of this year, my wife put together a little project for her and the kids. Everybody had to think of some things they really wanted to learn or do, and they would put those things on a list, and then work really hard at accomplishing/learning/completing those things. Caleb starting learning about our founding fathers, Alex starting learning to write, and Harlyn started learning how not to chew on anything she found on the floor.

The best part about this: it wasn’t “I resolve to change something about myself” and it wasn’t “I want to improve the image that people have of me”. It was just “I want to LEARN or DO something, and I want it to mean something to me”.

They weren’t resolutions. They were simply opportunities. Opportunities to create, to grow, to learn, and to expand.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You could chalk it up to simple semantics and say that really, that’s the same thing as resolutions. And, I’ll admit, it’s pretty close. But for me, it’s all about the perspective. New year’s resolutions to me seem to be things that people create because they want to manufacture an image. They want to change. They want to be different. They don’t like what they are, and they want to try and make themselves into something new.

I can respect that. I’ve felt that way in the past. But I’m going to perfectly honest with you and let you in on a little secret here: I kinda like me. I don’t want to change. I want to create, I want to grow, I want to learn, and I want to expand. But I’m not changing.

The opportunities, to me, is all about personal growth. It’s all about increasing your capacity for being what you already are, not changing yourself into something you’re not.

And the thing that really makes resolutions so incredibly hard to follow through on is that nobody does it. And when push comes to shove, that becomes the crutch. “Oh, it’s okay that I didn’t lose those 20 pounds because nobody ever accomplishes their new year’s resolutions. So it’s fine!” And your failure of a resolution then becomes a membership card into a substantial group of human beings who form one giant support group where it’s okay to fail, because we’ve all been there.

Right? Right.

So, no resolutions for me. These are my new year’s opportunities.

Read at least five recent novels.
Did I mention my fantastic wife got me a Nook for Christmas? Well, she did. I’ve always encouraged others to be excellent readers, and I believe in recent years I’ve fallen rather far behind in my own reading habits. Oh, sure, this year I managed to pick up “The City and the City” by China Mieville, and also “The Windup Girl” by Paolo Bacigalupi, but I’m fairly certain that that’s ALL I read in 2010. But now I’ve already loaded a small handful of novels onto the gleaming surface of my Nook. I’ve started reading Neal Stephenson’s “Snow Crash“, which, I’m ashamed to admit I hadn’t read as of yet. I’ll then be moving on to “Bitter Seeds” by Ian Tregillis and then to “Sleepless” by Charlie Huston. I want to keep up with current trends in the scifi and fantasy world, and I think the Nook is going to help greatly in my accomplishing that.

Learn to cook at least three new dishes.
I make awesome french toast (courtesy of my father). And I can make just about any standard-fare breakfast food. I can also manage to cook up a pound of hamburger without fatally wounding anyone nearby, so that’s a plus. But I just don’t have the culinary chops my wife has, and — great, now I’m thinking about pork chops.

Pork chops.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. My wife is a phenomenal cook, and I want to attempt to have at least .05% of her talent in the kitchen. To that end, I will be forcing her at plastic knife-point to teach me a few of her recipes, and maybe one or two of my mother’s, because, well, I’m a bit sentimental that way.

Complete at least one creative project every week.
Last year’s substantial Ficly 365 project taught me something very important. And that is, there are simply not enough hours in the day. It also taught me that, with work, family, and other commitments, I just can’t dedicate even a small portion of every day to writing. So, one of my opportunities for next year will be to complete one creative project every single week. It may have something to do with my comic, or writing, or even music. I’ve considered taking up painting, and we’ll see where that takes me. But every week, something new and potentially interesting will be coming out of my head. For those keeping track, that means by this time next year, I’ll be working on project number fifty-two.

So, there they are. My new year’s opportunities. (sidenote: please note that each opportunity says “at least” within it. I’m perfectly fine with going over the allotted number, but not so much with the being under /sidenote)

Now, here’s the clincher. Here’s the thing that sets opportunities apart from resolutions.

I want to do these things. I really, really want to.

Not because they will change how people perceive me, and I so look forward to shoving the New Me™ in their faces. No. I want to do these things because they will combine to make me even more incredibly awesome than I already am.

And that’s what I look forward to. Being. More. Awesome.

“Semantics”, indeed.

I’ll go from youngest to oldest, which is the order of relative power within the family hierarchy.

Harlyn has been an amazing little bundle of awesome. She’s growing at an exponential rate, and I’m concerned that by the time she’s two, she’ll be communicating at a level much higher than I am capable of myself. Those who know me should not be surprised at this.

Her favorite activities include running after her brothers, climbing on things she should not be capable of climbing upon, watching Backyardigans, using words that sound ridiculously like real, actual words, and attaching herself to her mother’s chest. I would make a joke about that, but this blog post is already going to be awkward enough as it is.

Alex is a phenomenon in and of himself. He is emotional, demanding, and curious, and perhaps just a bit too much of all of those things. But he is also loving, smart, and adventurous, and he might almost be too much of those, as well.

Like any younger brother, the most important things to Alex are any thing that is incredibly important to Caleb. Also, like any younger brother, there are a great many topics upon which he and his older brother do not see eye to eye. It’s enigmatic, I understand, but then, you need to know Alex in order to comprehend that. We’re still trying desperately to puzzle the boy out. Thankfully, it’s an entertaining sort of effort, and we can at least take solace in the fact that he seems to enjoy frustrating us, and in the end, that’s absolutely something to smile about.

His favorite activities include forcing us to play board games with him and being absurdly good at any video game set before him.

Caleb continues his steady march forward into his own future. He’s at that unique moment in his life where he is desperately clamoring towards adulthood, but still firmly cemented within his own childhood. Like his siblings, he is built mainly of love and curiosity, but his thirst for understanding is nearly insatiable, which is both a blessing and a curse.

This year, we’ve directed his energy and passion towards the Boy Scouts, and he seems to be taking to it well. He’s been splitting his school time between homeschooling and public schooling, and it’s an experiment that is likely to end soon due to its plethora of difficulties, for him and for his various teachers.

His favorite activities include reading, drawing cartoon characters, and reminding his mother how many years remain until he is able to perform various adult-like tasks, such as getting his driver’s license and going away to college.

Amanda is a rock. Figuratively, of course, but no less with the rock-like qualities. She has soldiered through an unbearably difficult sort of year with grace and strength, and she should be commended and awarded all manner of medals and certificates. She has continued to manage this family well, and within limitations that would turn lesser women to dust.

Lately she has begun to fiercely cling to movements that she believes in, and I admire her passion. Whether it’s midwifery, breastfeeding, natural living, or homeschooling, Amanda has been advocating for simplicity in life, and compassion and respect for others. They are lessons that I want to see passed onto our children, and I fully embrace and encourage her renewed spirit of life and love.

Lastly, I am still me. Some days I’m playing the part of the wearisome artiste, struggling to find a voice and a vehicle for his creative spirit. Other days, I’m just some dude trying to make a living while playing video games and occasionally entertaining others. I’ve temporarily pushed off my dreams of writing in exchange for a sudden desire for webcomickry. I’ve started a quaint and poorly-drawn comic called The 29th State. Avert your eyes, for it is not pretty. But it is an outlet for creativity, and that’s something I just need. Heaven help me, I’m also going to attempt to take up painting at some point in the next year. We’ll see how that goes. I’m guessing not well.

In the meantime, I’m also playing ridiculous amounts of Minecraft. Like, scary amounts. So many amounts, it ceases to amuse.

So, in a nutshell, that’s who and where we all are at the moment. We’re taking each day as it comes, and praying for the strength to continue. Our family is happy and loving, together and strong, and in these uncertain times, that is something substantial. And in this holiday season, we’re doing well, and hoping that you are, too.

Merry Christmas.

I’ve posted my entry on my site here. Feel free to read it.

Now, I’m not counting this as a loss. Rather, I’m using it as a motivational catalyst to further my own writing. Along with my good friends Epictetus and John Scalzi.

Yesterday, when I came home from work, I happened to notice that my wife had quietly changed the motivational quote that she writes and displays on our refrigerator. The new quote read:

“If you would be a reader, read; if a writer, write” – Epictetus

Such elegance in so few words. The simplicity of the phrase was what really struck me, because it really and truly is just that simple. We often try to find a magical formula for writing, one that makes us successful with as little effort applied as humanly possible. But it doesn’t work that way, and the truth is far more black-and-white than that.

And here’s a pertinent snippet of a blog post from just last month by a favorite author of mine:

But if you want to be a writer, than be a writer, for god’s sake. It’s not that hard, and it doesn’t require that much effort on a day to day basis. Find the time or make the time. Sit down, shut up and put your words together. Work at it and keep working at it. And if you need inspiration, think of yourself on your deathbed saying “well, at least I watched a lot of TV.” If saying such a thing as your life ebbs away fills you with existential horror, well, then. I think you know what to do.

Well said, John. It really is that simple. You see, I’m desperately trying to squeeze in writing time when I can manage it, but between a full-time job, spending time with the family, playing video games, and keeping up with my Hulu queue, I just can’t seem to find the time.

Yes, I’m fully aware of how pathetic those last two sound.

And that’s the thing of it, right there. If I truly want to write, I have to want to write. It has to be important. More important than catching up on shows on Hulu or playing video games. It has to be the thing I want to do more than I want to engage in any number of other activities. It has to be a passion. And this is true for any and all creative endeavors, not just writing.

As a result, I’m going to work to re-tune my habits. I’ve got a handful of short stories in process, as well as the template for a novel that I’m wanting to write.  Success is not going to come from leaving these ideas rattling noisily within my head while I watch the latest episode of Glee or play the most recent Metroid game. Success will only come when I sit down and write and get this stuff out.

I’ll be back when I have something to show for my efforts.

(It’s probably important to note that I do this at least once a year, if not more often. And by “this” I of course mean “freak out about how little time I spend writing and convince myself that THIS IS GOING TO CHANGE and then, twelve months later, when my methods or habits have not been altered in the slightest, this process gets repeated, ad infinitum”. So, I’ll see you in April 2011 for a blog post that is nearly identical to the one you see here.)

What is it? Nothing more than a collection of somewhere in the neighborhood of 35 stories written on Ficly.com. I’ve talked about Ficly a lot in the past. It’s a fantastic site, not just because you can create and share short pieces of fiction there, but also because of the excellent community of writers that has sprung up around the site. They are creative, gracious, clever, and kind, and I really wish I had more time to spend there these days.

The book itself appears to be a $3 PDF ebook, with all of the proceeds benefiting the site proper, presumably through things like server and hosting costs, bandwidth, Ferrari’s, and office supplies. You know, the usual. I know Kevin and his expensive tastes for the finer things in life. And I don’t know Jason Garber at all, but he strikes me as the sort of person who could use a new Rolex every couple of months.

Now, I’m going to completely look past the fact that this compilation doesn’t include any of the 59 amazing stories I’ve written for Ficly. No, I’m bigger than that. Instead, I’m going to focus on what I think is a truly tremendous —

Okay, seriously? Not even one of my stories made it in? I thought Rivalry was pretty good. That Which God Did Not Create? Cannelliare perhaps? No?

It’s because I gave on the Ficly 365 project, isn’t it? I’m sure that’s it. That has to be it. Look, I’m disappointed in myself, too. Truly I am. But I suppose it’s understandable why I was left out.

No, no, it’s fine. Really. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I mean, there’s literally thousands of stories on Ficly, and some pretty talented people writing them. And the selection of stories and authors contained within this book appear to be of absolutely exceptional quality. There’s no reason to complain.

Or, you know, harbor hurt feelings.

Or hold any sort of grudge.

For being left out.

Overlooked.

Denied.

….

Okay, enough. That joke can only go on so long. Seriously, buy a copy of the book and support the phenomenal Ficly site and it’s wonderful community of creators, please! I implore you.

Do it before I decide to start writing Ficly stories again, and all of them feature YOU in not very pleasant situations. I can do it people. We have the technology.

I loved the idea. I mean, who wouldn’t? We’re not using the shed for anything more than storing some old junk. And it wouldn’t take much work; just clean out the crap, tear down some boards, put up new ones, cut some overgrowth outside, new door, etc. Not a whole lot! It’ll be easy.

Okay, I never actually fooled myself into thinking it would be easy, but I didn’t think it would be a terribly complicated effort. And honestly, it isn’t. But it’s so far been a fairly interesting experience, as I will share with you now.

I started clearing out the shed by removing loose boards and bits of wood and junk that had been stored in the rafters by previous owners of the property. Then I cleared out our miscellaneous yardwork materials and began the work of removing interior walls. Fairly simple.

Every time I was finished working in the shed, I would blow my nose, and this dark crud would come out. It was kind of weird, and I suppose I should have paid more attention to it, but I figured it was just loose detritus floating around getting caught in my nose. Disgusting, sure, but not truly harmful. I started wearing a dust mask as I worked, and that took care of that particular problem.

That’s when I discovered — much to my surprise — that our little shed was at one time a coal shed. Apparently, they would haul in bushels of coal, store it in the shed, and come out for bucketfuls whenever required for their indoor heating needs.

I needed no more proof that the shed once stored coal than when I eventually saw it spilling out from behind the planks I was prying off the walls.

Mystery of the dark crud in my nose explained! I’ve probably already developed pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.

The other interesting aspect of working on the shed has been the bees. Bumblebees, to be exact. They’ve been greeting me and watching me work so often that I figure they’re either really interested in the construction process in preparation for building their own playhouses for their tiny bee babies, or they have a massive hive underneath the shed that we have unwittingly disturbed. I’ve killed quite a few of the pests, but every time I work in one particular portion of the shed, I can hear the faint buzzing underneath, and I know they must be organizing a protest of my thoughtless and selfish actions against the innocent bumblebee community.

We’re calling an exterminator.

Now, I’m sure these sound like particularly whiny complaints, but I’m actually smiling as I write about this. I still love the idea of the playhouse, and I look forward to telling the kids (and the grandkids) the story of The Building of the Playhouse™ many, many times in the future. And once everything is said and done, I definitely look forward to the kids having a fun place in the backyard within which they can have pirate adventures and tea parties. Side by side, if they so desire, though I don’t know how keen pirates are on drinking tea. I know it sounds cliche, and people who don’t have kids really can’t understand the concept, but thinking about those kids smiling and playing in something we’ve built ourselves really does make all the pain and effort worth it.

I just hope I can get it done before winter.