Journal : OpenRoadWorks

After midnight, I was finally able to see the floor to my new kitchen - and what a great feeling that was to get the pots, pans, plates, and silverware put away in their new drawers and cupboards. As you might have guessed, I am in the middle of moving from the apartment in which I had stayed for the past year into a new townhouse that Wendy and I bought together just outside of Washington DC. Sitting at a tidy kitchen table with little more than the purring whir of my laptop computer, I am taking in the moment. Not so long ago, I was sprinting to the end of a whirlwind experience at IMD in Switzerland; now, I am savoring the fruits of my initiative back in the United States. Perhaps this senstation comes from the fact that I have cleared through a bit under half of the boxes that came over in the move. Maybe it is the result of a surprise card that finally came delivered from the post office (thanks grandma for the sweet words!). But I think it is more fundamental than this. I am enjo

It's nice to find a solitary moment to sit back, relax, and stare at a computer screen blankly like I am wont to do from time to time. Recently, such activity has been difficult due to a seemingly overwhelming barrage of time-consuming activities. Such as moving. For those that have done it enough to be able to call themselves "veterans", I salute you - moving is not much fun. And this is from someone that has moved over 10 times in the last 5 years! Anyhow. I'm just about done now, except for those mind-numbing "odds and ends" from my old apartment. Oh yeah, and the cleaning of the old place before getting all the way into the new place. Hopefully, by the end of today I will officially moved in, which sets me up for the next wonderful task on the list - unpacking! Ah yes, moving on is easy to do...

It was an incredibly beautiful afternoon in DC, so it was only fitting - and absolutely vital - to go into the city and enjoy the day. Poignant, as it was, to visit on this day - Veteran's Day, a holiday which remembers the brave servicepeople that have given their time to the US Army, Navy, Marines, and Coast Guard. In these turbulent times when the US finds itself planted in many different theaters (as the military calls them) in many different operations, it is worthwhile to remember the sacrifices that some people make on behalf of others. It is the servicepeople who bear the brunt of decisions made by patricians of another color - be it blue or red - that pay the price for the virtues (and sins) of our country. I took this picture-perfect afternoon to remember those people caught in the shuffle and found it to be an afternoon well spent (pictures at this link ). [In honoring the US serviceperson, I also offer this blog entry , which has a first-hand take of what "the aver

Here I go In light speed Just like taxicabs Blur in yellow Down Broadway Towards the only way We can go Downtown Uptown Midtown we are Quickly I stop For love in a pinch Here I go again Hello New York Afternoon delight With my hunny bunny :)

Some places have a mythology all their own. Say a name - Paris, Hong Kong, Casablanca - and instantly images conjure that lyrically describe a location. New York fits into that mold, a place of myth and legend much bigger than I could describe - but not for lack of trying. If you scan back through some of the earlier entries that I have made back in 2003 and 2004, you would see the paltry attempts at capturing this modern city's essence and pulse. Oh bother - I will keep trying. Again, this week I return to the city for work, incidentally at the same time as Wendy. We will be sure to take advantage of the city, if even for a walk through the neighborhoods and boroughs that loom larger than life in film, television, and literature - SoHo, TriBeca, Upper West Side, Upper East Side, Gramercy Park, Murray Hill, Downtown, Wall Street, Battery Park, Central Park, Brooklyn, Bronx, Staten Island, Queens, Hell's Kitchen (ne' Clinton), Chelsea (ne' whatever you would like to call

Email is the bane of my existence. Of all the various items that come at me during the day, it is that impervious pile of email that seems to be the last thing remaining by the time that I am ready to go home from work or log off my personal computer. Newsletters, flyers, announcements, e-cards, and junk mail to sift through, it is enough to send me batty. And that is before you get to friend emails, those wonderful gems with actual substance that lurk in the mix. Before you know it, you get caught up just cleaning out the junk in the inbox and don't have time to polish the gems, a pitiful state, indeed! Oh bother - I hope my friends understand that I will get back to them as soon I can clear a path to wander into my inbox. If you are waiting for a reply for me, I'm sorry! I'll get back once I get that email avalanche under control.

If you want to know your past, look into your present conditions. If you want to know your future, look into your present actions.

Sometimes, words cannot encapsulate cleanly what a person feels. Even with reams of effort and diligence, the meaning is lost in the imperfect shuffle of word choice and tense. Even still, a writer's first impulse is to capture something, however imperfect, to share on to the next person - or as those deep-seated impulses really push for, to leave on as legacy to the following generations. Posterity is worthy for ambition's sake, but something simpler leaves me breathless before I try to ease into bed - that is, the fellow words of fellow writers who can - even for a small instant - capture a distinct feeling and a moment worth sharing. As I try to resurrect my own musings and find a voice buried amidst day-to-day work and personal life (who would have imagined the wonderful burdens of adulthood, like homes and weddings and relationships), I find a little bit of inspiration from others who also follow the same path. The timeless nature of the human experience can bring us toget

My professor from IMD proposed that we should be 10% citizens - in other words, give 10% of our time to help build community and create a better world. If such a balance could exist, the world would be a better place. I agree with the concept, and to that point I address a global topic worth thinking about and addressing in some form to find better solutions - dealing with Iraq: I'm not an expert on oil, but I do know that established markets reach an equilibrium and balance based on stable market conditions - something that economists yearn for but businesspeople and situations never allow due to dynamic decision-making and changing market conditions. When instability occurs, speculators come in, businesspeople take advantage of the situation (for better or worse), and regulators & economists analyze six months on to see what actually happened. Although the decisions by the Bush administration to enter into its situation with Iraq was not fully about oil, the incursions that h

I had to comment on this bit of news that I came across today. The Boy Scouts of America (a little background here ) has struck up a relationship with the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) so that boy scouts can earn a patch in anti-piracy (press release here ). That's right - little Johnny can be recognized as a good citizen for not ripping CD's and DVD's to his heart's content. And if he's real good and makes the grade, the MPAA will give him a tour of a real-live movie studio! Hip, hip, hooray kids! Now before boys across the land get too excited about this one, it is only Los Angeles-area boy scouts who will get the chance to visit the movie studio, although all lads across the land can work to sport this 21st century badge of honor. As with all Boy Scout badges, there is some effort required to earn it; in this case, a boy needs to either create some sort of propaganda extolling the virtues of copyright or go online to uncover pirated content to sh

Last weekend was wonderful, going back to Ohio with Wendy, seeing the parents, and just chilling out. All good feelings - except for the UCLA football game. Now, I am not a sports fanatic, but I have a rooting interest in college football for Penn State (my father's tried-and-true alma mater) and UCLA (ah, so many years ago in Westwood now...). When Saturdays roll around in the fall, I keep my mobile phone close at hand - if I'm not in front of the television at some point - to keep tabs on game results. What happened over the last weekend was a cock-up of mammoth proportions, as UCLA went down to the wire and lost in stunning fashion to Notre Dame. I also have to admit another thing - there is something about Notre Dame that really gets on my nerves. Maybe it is the rabid adoration of their fans and alumni. Maybe it is the "holier-than-thou" feeling that emanates from Touchdown Jesus and the lore of their football team. Maybe it is just plain frustration at not havin

It is already a few weeks on from that wonderful Disney World weekend with Wendy, and I am still remembering that fateful trip. All the icons - Cinderella's Castle, Space Mountain, Splash Mountain, Pirates of the Caribbean, It's A Small World, Carrousel of Progress, and the rest - seem to seap into the subconscious and leave a small impression that carries forward. Sure, it is a series of amusement parks - Magic Kingdom, Epcot Center, MGM Studios, and Animal Kingdom the quartet - but it has become a national institution. You can realize this by stepping back and watching the passersby, all those park visitors who come from Sheboygan and Fargo and St. Louis and Paris (Texas, that is - and France, too, for that matter); they are, for the most part, a perfect cross-section of Americana. I got that feeling from the market research volunteers that show up from time to time at the gates to ask for guests' zip codes and impressions they have of the park. Just a momentary thought,

Some days can be tough. Little sleep, heavy thinking, pressure situations, and unforseen circumstances can bring us down when we least need the heat. And when we cannot stand the heat, we are told to "get out of the kitchen" - or so the expression goes. It is in such a moment that I find myself today, being called out by my manager in a meeting for veering dangerously close to the land of nap time. It is ok because I explained my long hours of driving this weekend and odds & ends that come from buying a house and planning a wedding. Still, it is good to take stock of a situation before it gets out of control. The one thing that I will not do, though, is to let this all-consuming march into a new life get me down. Sure, it is tiring - but it is also fun to change gears and open a new chapter. What I will not do is freak out and lose my mind. I figure one simple thing - have no fear and the good times will inevitably follow.

...I'm singin' in the rain / what a glorious feeling / and I'm happy again... For some reason, I feel like Gene Kelly dancing with an umbrella in the classic 1952 film, "Singin' In The Rain"; I just got engaged a few weeks ago at Disney World, I've had a few nice trips traveling around the area the last couple of weekends (Williamsburg and the Penn State-Michigan college football game), and now I am working on some cutting-edge strategies for my company. This feeling is a far cry from certain feelings over the last few years - where was I going? What did I want to do? What would it look like? Now that all these things are starting to take shape, I am contented with the results - and it only gets better from here. So there you go - the drizzle cannot get me down. I'm singin', singin' in the rain...

I'm exhausted yet very happy. After a beautiful, amazing weekend at Disney World, I am four hours by car removed from my home and typing away quietly in an empty office after 7:30pm. I am almost done for the day and certainly done from a weekend of veritable excitement. Why the sentiment? Simple - I got engaged this weekend in a storybook fashion (Cinderella's Castle at the Magic Kingdom). Yes, I am a sopping romantic, and yes - my girlfriend (I mean, fiancee' - imagine that!) did say yes. I have the pictures from the weekend to prove it. That leaves me sitting at this desk. I'm just checking in and keeping too busy to notice all the changes happening around me. It's all good, though - when you wish upon a star, magic does happen.

When I was in the fifth grade, I went on a family trip to Disney World to experience the magic of, well, the Magic Kingdom. Funny how I can still remember frolicking in the park on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, the Pirates of the Caribbean, the Haunted Mansion, and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. For a boy of 11 years young, this was great stuff to light up the imagination. Perhaps I had let myself get too old, as I put away those memories in a box labeled "long ago childhood" and forgot about it. Thankfully, Wendy brought up that box again. From the earliest days that we knew each other, she expressed quite an interest in all things Mickey, and we have been planning and planning to go. And now that my inner child is back out of the box, I figured the present is as good a time as any to build on those memories. It turns out that prices were too good to pass up, and our two-year anniversary fell in the following week, so we're going to Disney World! I cannot wait to frolick

Some of you might relate to the daily agony that is modern corporate life. Our digital world comes replete with fancy tools that allow anyone with a computer to create all kinds of fancy documents and publications. Of course, in comes the business manager who uses these tools to help spur economic activity. That usually means that any number of fancy-tooled employees with half a brain are asked to produce any number of reports, presentations, briefings, and white papers to sate the desire for information on corporate initiatives and operating performance. This is all fine and good. Progress is what some call this novel ability to digitally communicate. What we have not remembered, however, are the old-fashioned principles of moderation and prudence. You see, there was once a time in an analog world far, far away when people physically approached each other to talk face-to-face and engaged in iterative dialogue. Talked things out. Let ideas seep into the sub-conscious and stew a

Today is primary day in the United States, the day when candidates are selected to represent their parties in the election day on the first tuesday in November. Since this is what is called a mid-term election - ie. the interim period between presidential elections - the campaign activity is much more subdued. This is the time when certain senate seats get vacated, some politicians retire, and others look to run for school board or county executive. Don't tell these local and state politicians that this off-cycle election is not important - the results directly impact their livelihood for the next couple of years. Perhaps my post is mundane in mentioning the news for today; after all, these are politicians of minimal importance globally and voter turn-out will likely reflect that thought; 25-30% voter turn-out would be considered normal. But I think there is something important about getting involved in the political process, even at the most basic level of participation. Voting i

News reports today will trumpet words commemorating a tragedy of immense proportions as symbolic buildings in Washington DC and New York City were ripped open and torn apart. In the United States, the day of 911 has taken its own shape as a second Memorial Day, remembered chiefly to appease the psychological pain that has seeped into a national consciousness that no longer feels utterly removed from the rest of the world. Since that fateful day five years ago, Americans hear more about Islam, Pakistan, and a whole series of internationally minded topics than they did before (whether they actually know more as a collective public is a debatable point). And since that fateful day, a whole number of other activities carried out by the US government have placed this country within a new context in world affairs that will affect nearly everyone on the planet for years to come. Dramatic words, I should say. Closer to home, it is my sister's birthday (poor thing that others around her con

Funny that it has been over three weeks since I have last posted an entry - that is just about the amount of time that I have spent looking at houses. Over the course of the last month, amidst calls of distress and alarm in US real estate markets, under barrage of advice from family and colleagues, amongst slippery real estate professionals, somehow I ended up deciding to buy a house. With my girlfriend. All the way in :) If you would have asked me a year ago what I would think about making such a decision, I would have told you to whisk your insane notions off the doorstep. Then again, times do change - and people change, too. That goes for Wendy and I, who have decided to put a tick in the "grown-up" column and jump feet first into homeownership. Years of traveling and milling about the globe have taken care of the wanderlust; now, I am excited to be a bit more domesticated. For those that know me, a long and winding road, indeed - but I like where it's headed. A

The business world is literally highjacked with metaphors and expressions, something that seems wholly unique to the white-collar office environment. I cannot speak for all environments - factory, school, home, and "out" - but I can speak for offices in which I have worked that have "put lipstick on the pig", "played hardball", "played the field", "stuck to the knitting", and other such expressions that allude my memory in the moment. No worries - the other laundry bin of quotables will come to me and others in a meeting when the proper moment arises - and everyone agrees to the right usage. There is hardly ever debate as to this point, only proper usage - and an alien tongue to those who may not have experienced the phenomenon. I quickly ponder over this thought as I pack up my computer for the day. I saw a picture of a pig putting on lipstick that prompted the thought. Another day in the books leaves this comment lurking in my mi

The mundane of the every day is often fertile ground for artists to mine for either surreal re-interpretation or worship through an idealization of the common form. Case in point - I was flipping through some of the older photos I had on my hard drive in order to organize and archive them. I came across a few pictures from 2003 that I took in Australia that showed a coffee cup sitting solitary on the table, with a spinning camera giving motion to the saucer on which it sat. With the blur of the surrounding table and setting, the cup sits poised and extraordinary, with a slight residue of fine coffee beans and candied sugar on the bottom. Perhaps I have gone too far to describe something so simple as a finished cup of coffee, but I still remember that moment at the cafe' where the picture was taken; sitting with friends, there was a lull in conversation. At that point, I looked at the cup and realized the beauty in the experience that lasted only as brief as it took for me to whirl

It only takes a couple weeks of work to blur the memories of a well-worn holiday. For me, this year was China and visiting Wendy's family; two weeks of tropical heat, horrid humidity, and all the best spicy food you can muster. Wuhan, Xi'an, and finally Beijing and the Great Wall - it was a wonderful trip. The trouble is that it is now a distant memory as I am back in the "daily grind" of meetings, presentations, action items, and email email email. Still, there are the photos from my trip. Click on the link for China in pictures.

I had a bout of musical nostalgia this afternoon as I was listening to Rufus Wainwright and compiling a powerpoint presentation for work. Two years ago, I remember the CD's of this self-styled (and modish) modern-day troubador. He was (and, I presume, continues to be) an "inside" kind of star with celebrities and hipsters (they like what is "hot" before us mortals do) for classical and dramatically-infused pop melodies. Those style-makers viewed him as "getting" pop like not many other contemporaries did; I just happened to like the songs, even if some were adopted as funkified dance anthems in gay clubs (convenient that Rufus is also gay, so he did not mind the mixing). Anyhow, I remember Rufus for his musical companionship in some turbulent NYC days, dealing as he did in his album "Want One" with regrettably lost loves and solemnness for the life he led on the road; I felt the same in those days as a consultant traversing the US between NYC

I have an interest in blogs. Perhaps it was the school assignment last year that we completed to get a sense of what this blog phenomenon - and customer dialogue in general - had to do with companies. I thought at the time that blogs would be more than a passing fad but less than a public groundswell that they seem to have become with the growth of fashionably coined "social networking sites" of personal recollections, comments, and naughty (and not-so-naughty) photos. Now, I have my own blog, which has been hidden from public view or dormant (depending on the time period in question) over the last three years. Back in the public domain, this is the place for jotting down some thoughts and sharing them with the world. If, of course, the world finds enough curiosity to read on... Enter the masses into media, such as social networking is wont to do. This raises an issue - does the common man and woman have the decency and discretion on what they write in these cyber page

To all the French and francophones out there, jour de bastille heureux!

... :) You will always have good luck in your personal affairs. :) -As written on the Chinese fortune that mysteriously appeared from my pocket this morning

I got an email from a friend a couple of days ago that apologized for the actions of Israel in Palestine and now Lebanon against Hamas and Hezbollah respectively. I had a pang of sorrow strike me in reading his note and then the replies from other friends in Lebanon and Egypt about the escalating craziness of the situation. For those outside of that world, it is hard to fathom the deep-seated feelings of culture, pride, hurt, and anger surrounding Israeli-Arab relations; those feelings go back far beyond the 1949 creation of modern Israel and the 1967 six-day war between Israel and Egypt, Jordan, and Syria. Now, it seems that the eye of the storm - the Israel-Palestine issue - has started to pick up storm clouds again. When I think about the impending war that almost seems inevitable to break out as the hours pass, I feel sadness for the detrimental effects this will have on the region and the worrying effects it will have on my friends. For this, I find myself in a day of mourning.

Another day, another computer screen. In between, there is rest, a shower, some journaling, a few meals, and some relaxation before the World Cup matches this evening. I had a chance to witness the first half of the Argentina:Germany match last night before my stamina gave in to dreary eyes and the wicker mattress. After an emotional burst of activity to start the match, it settled into an Argentine dribbling affront to the German's preferred attacking style. I figured what would result from the first half, the stuff that played out while I was dreaming. Although I cannot understand Chinese, I can understand visual highlights on the television and had a chance to witness the final outcome with an Asian flavor. It turned out to be an instant classic, some great chances on goal, both sides breaking through, then a tie to carry over into penalty kicks that fell into high drama. The end result: a German victory that surely led to some great fun across Germany last night. In curi

I have a moment to catch my breath in the back room of Wendy's grandparents' apartment nestled on the campus of Wuhan University. Sitting underneath an air conditioner that spits out misty coolness into the room in which I am sitting, I am trying to avoid the 40 degrees Celsius (roughly 108 degrees Farenheit) heat and stifling humidity that clings to everything that finds itself outside. The body becomes infused with sweat and stickiness after days of this condition and acquires a slight immunity to the resulting discomfort upon a few days of acclimation; there are not blast furnaces of central air conditioners firing up billows of cool air into buildings. What one finds in various buildings and residences are relatively lightweight units dotting walls around various rooms where foot traffic is most dense, neatly dispersing cool air as necessary with a lilting hum of efficiency; I sit in such an environment collecting a few thoughts. What I have discovered in my brief time in C

Finally, I am heading to China. Of all the countries that I had recently been able to visit (thus crossing off my "to-do" list) - India, Korea, Russia - I had still not visited the country with the biggest myths of them all. Until now. After meeting my girlfriend 1.5 years ago, I figured at some point that I would make it back to her homeland. Wendy was born in Wuhan in the Hubei province of China and lived there for the first 7 years of her life; now, we are going back to visit her family, the majority of whom stayed behind to witness firsthand the economic miracle that the country has experienced ever since the Open Door Policy of the 1970's turned the economy towards quasi-capitalism. It will be my first experience of this country whose breathless media reports shroud it in industry and mystery. Studying last year at IMD, I was constantly reminded of the economic growth that the Asia Pacific region had been experiencing firsthand over the last decade - and in particula

I should have known that at some point I would be "found" online. Over the past few months, friends far and wide have showed up again through the miracle of the internet, finding various tidbits online of my comings and goings over the last couple of years. Granted, I have not been all that diligent in getting back to everyone - I'll blame my own work ethic in too many hours at the offic and dealing with the loss of personal time and the gain of a wonderful girlfriend - but I have appreciated the discovery of each person along the way. In this brave new world (I seem to hear this more often these days - would Mssr. Huxley be smug in his grave?), we can run only so far as our access to the internet allows. Perhaps the future will bring us closer together - going forward, it seems that we will all be connected.

I suppose that I am somewhat lonely in the US. Sitting on my couch and watching the climactic finish to the Germany-Poland match with my girlfriend, I had a strange tingling sensation at the nape of my neck - and no, it was not the touch of my girlfriend. It was the harrowing experience of watching two shots go off the cross-bar in the final minutes, punctuated by an offsides call against the Germans who were desperate for a goal to break the 0-0 tie. After 90+ minutes of action, finally a strike broke through from substitute Oliver Neuville, whose well-footed sliding kick made all the difference in the World Cup for Germany. Captivated by the action in Germany's first round victory, I was engulfed a world so far away from where I was sitting, far away from my day-to-day life outside of Washington DC. Not so long ago, I was close to the action, living in the middle of Europe and engaged in the global discussions that surrounded what the rest of the world was talking about. Now, I a

As I work in wireless and spend my days exploring the potential of new applications and services for a virtual mobile world, I am learning to stay up on new developments in technology. One of these areas is the concept of "always-connected" applications that give you the ability to be in touch with others from almost anywhere on any device. Case in point: I am testing the posting of blog entries from my email application. I will have no idea if this makes it to the pervasive OpenRoadworks blog or not, but presumably it will end up there with more conventional posts. Also, in the process, I should be receiving the same posting to my mobile phone where I can read anything that I post moving forward wherever I might be with my phone. Imagine that - always being connected to everyone and everything (including yourself, for that matter) wherever you might be. Imagine life with these new tools - imagine technology.

Tonight, the muggy air of the DC outskirts where I live is charged with the clean scent of nitrogen trails from the lightning bolts that earlier sparked through the sky. As the night blossoms into an envelope of hanging humidity, I tread lightly from my apartment to the common rubbish bin; my steps bring struggle as suck in this air. In that moment, I am transported in mind to thinking about my loved ones who are far away from here as well as friends that are even further scattered across the globe. Here am I, wonting to reach out again to a life that I once lived and once struggled through in making sense of the kaleidoscope of experiences rushing past me. Now, I am domesticated and contented with the knowledge that I have what I want and know what I need. Yet something tells me that this is a temporal experience, a fitting segue between the life I used to lead and the life that lays ahead. Just like this humid envelope engulfs my senses, I am also choked by the lethargy of this

Whatever I have to say has left me at this moment as I silently digest lunch at my desk and face the prospect of another few hours at work before I'm done. After a series of thinking conversations that have stretched me beyond my capacity to function properly at work, I am coasting in a moment of lackadaisical review of my email. Pretty soon, I will get up from my desk for a tasty shot of espresso that will certainly awaken my inner animus and give it flight for thought. From food coma back to productivity - pretty soon I'll get that second wind.

The feeling is altogether fulfilling when a golf ball ascends into the air on a majestic, backspinning arc that launches like a rocket and hangs lazily in the clouds before landing softly out in the distance. Every so often, golfers know this feeling of triumph - flush is how the shot is described, with all the other supporting adjectives that sum up its lovely result. I would have traded my first round of golf for a few of these flush shots, as I found my game utterly rusted over and decaying after a year of almost non-play. Usually, I keep my game in relative maintenance, making the links at least 4-5 times during the year (my former life as a consultant severely limited my playing capacity to that amount). But a year abroad in Switzerland killed my momentum and kept me far, far away from anything related to the rough and bunkers of a golf course. Alas, now I have a "normal" job and some time (relatively) on my hands - but I have not put my skills to the test. Until th

As a business manager that has spent quite a bit of time working in consulting and strategy, it is only appropriate that I wax poetically on Microsoft Powerpoint. It seems that every day of my working life, I find myself launching this inocuous program with the orange icon in the corner containing the cut-out circle graph and bullet point lines (most people don't even take a hard look at the icon!). I cannot call myself a Microsoft evangelist, but I can call myself a Powerpoint junkie. Moving lines across the screen. Opening new text boxes. Forming graphics. Framing bullet points. Underline. Bold. Italic. Cut. Re-arrange slides. Storyboard. Insert images. Draw lines. Cut again. Storyboard? Quotes. Bold some more. Cut some more. Storyboard. Storyboard. Storyboard... Ah, well - it is a trusted friend, for sure. I just needed a moment's break from building slides in order to gain my sanity again. Now, back to work - back to powerpoint!

I am in between meetings at work. I have a few minutes to spare. I have had a burning desire to release some words from my proverbial pen, but I have either been too tired, lazy, or busy to make time to do so. Funny how a year ago, I would have somehow found the time to make my words appear - thanks to my obligation to the IMD MBA diary. But now, I am only obligated to myself, my family & friends, and my work - and the story is very different. So, I made time today to put fingers to keys and make some words happen. Even if it is only five minutes of such blathering. I hope that the future finds many more posts with many more interesting things to say than just this post about aligned obligations. It's a start, I suppose (but did I not say the same thing about a month ago???); alas, I have at least made a point in sneaking in some writing.

Hard to imagine that a year ago, I was "trapped" in an IMD business school "dungeon" with these fascinating people. But on a picture-perfect, sunny Sunday afternoon, Jaffar, Priya, myself, and Daniel had the chance to enjoy a smashingly lazy lunch and rambling dialogue on the state of world affairs. Thanks to the house of Dave & Dave, we had a place to meet deep in Columbia Heights, a DC neighborhood undergoing the gentrification that is common in some neighborhoods within major US cities. And thanks to Priya's partner Lee, we were put into a wonderful food coma by the combination of chilled gazpacho, barbecued lamb & pork, grilled vegetables, and refreshing sorbet. As hard as it was to imagine our condition a year previously, it was just as easy to see that see that these people will be friends for a long time to come. Out of the dungeon a year on from IMD and into the sunshine of a lazy Sunday, we have become shiny, happy people ready for the next chal

Tonight I feel like the Loch Ness Monster. After almost two months of blogging inactivity, I emerge from a series of never-ending workdays, business trips, weekend travels, and sweet, brief moments of laziness to write this entry. No less than a few months ago, I was crafting daily missives that captured the world around me. These days, though, I have trouble getting a three-word reply out of my email inbox at the office. Something has to give. So tonight, as I lay myself down to sleep, I pause and pen a few words to remind myself that the world at large beckons beyond the myopia that surrounds my settling into a new lifestyle of obligations and relationships and so-called adulthood. Somewhere out there lurks another life and another being that captures the imagination and elevates the spirit beyond the here and now. Somewhere out there lurks the person I want to be outside of the office in a settled life that expands on the day-to-day responsibilities. Somewhere out there lurk

As I sit in my office on a Monday morning, anticipating the avalance of action items, meetings, and travel appointments to thunder down upon my head, I cannot help but think back just 12 hours earlier when I curled up on the couch to watch the Oscars. Professedly, this was never quite a part of my routine, to sit and watch typical primtime fare on television (other activites used to take precedence in my single life). But now that I am in a more serious relationship, these activities are becoming habitual. In fact, for the first time in my adult life, I even watch a television show on a regular basis (anyone else watch Grey's Anatomy on Sunday evenings?). Anyway, I become distracted with the slowly moving avalanche - out of the email replies and back into the title of this blog entry - Oscar hang-over! Last night, seeing all those women of film and the arts prancing in stunning evening gowns and bejeweled with the best that modern jewelers can muster, I can only think about ho

She is irrestible to me. For all those that know me, they know that I mad about my girlfriend. Mad is the operative word, as I enter a different state when her voice beckons me. Come rain or shine, good sense and bad scents, she is there at my side, co-collaborateur and sidekick. A point of harassment, a word of encouragement - all these things are part of our normal dialogues that carry on and on and on. I cannot get enough, even when she uses her special expressions that defy standard english convention. Her fluency becomes my language, as slowly her expressions seep into mine. Soon, I am changed and speaking in tongues; later, I will be dancing in my dreams with the girl that charms me. Talking to my baby is fun and nourishing - her words will carry me to sleep and those wonderful dreams...

Before I knew it, I was back in the office for another week of strategies and business models. From the nostalgia of bygone-era social clubs to the not-yet-imagined world of future technologies, I am zooming in between rapid-fire moments that rush by like the wind. I would have thought that a year abroad at one of the most intense graduate programs in the world would be enough to make me settle into a "simpler life", but that daydream was not meant to be. It's just a matter of facing reality, that life continues to exert its inexplicable control over stresses and delights and that define passing moments. The thought is too much for a Monday morning, but it does beg the question - whatever happened to the weekend?

After a bit of travel and work-a-day life, I am back for a weekend in the city. Of all the places that I have been that evoke urban living, there is still nothing quite like Manhattan. With its serpentine avenues that carve out through tall buildings like grand canyons and shabby chic neighborhoods that feel strangely familiar from countless scenes in television and film, the city is always inviting for the next adventure. This time, it is a classic New York wedding at the University Club, surrounded by turn-of-the-century splendor and high society social climbers - F. Scott Fitzgerald would be collecting pages of field notes for likely sequel to "The Great Gatsby". Perhaps I am too romantic in my view of this place that I used to call home; after all, the temperatures have dropped, and I have not been able to enjoy as much of the city as I usually do lurking indoors. Still, a return to this fabled place reminds me of the memories that I have accumulated here and the days

Once upon a time, the pen was my albatross. Come hell or high water, I would don my writing cap to craft a day's worth of dispatch to a global readership interested in the mundane business of management studies. I had no time, I was far removed from anything related to the "real world" (although my studies were "real world, real learning"), and I was chronically fatigued. Still, that old foe time made room for my elusive friend inspiration and voila' - a daily diary entry was born. Just one year, and I can look back to see my work sitting idle on the back pages of a graduate school website as a reminder of what I used to do. This evening, I sit in quietude, soaking in a new life and re-setting my habits and thought patterns for another life. I have crossed the chasm of my youth, headstrong into adulthood and carrying a whole new set of expectations for myself. I am refocusing, and (relatively) I have all the time in the world. However, I don't seem to f

Living just outside of Washington DC puts me in a special place to watch tonight's State of the Union address. Just miles south from here, deep in the heart of Capitol Hill, President George Bush lights his speech in unusually clear words from a podium surrounded by all the top government officials that the United States can muster. Republicans (many), Democrats (fewer), Supreme Court judges, senators, special diplomats, cabinet members, and others more privileged respond to the president's words in applause, rises from the bench, silent disdain, furtive glances, and various other postures marking the volleys. Talk of war and terror, foreign policy, economy, and other topics that fill cafes and public spaces are the paint by which George Bush sprays his canvas. In the moment, there is surrounding silence, clarity of spirit, and resounding focus on this one moment that places politics at the center of primetime television and living rooms. There is not agreement in this mom

It's amazing what a difference a year makes. On this unseasonably warm day in New Jersey (low 60's at the high end of January is nothing short of extraordinary), I am sitting in a hotel room and pondering life on the other side of the chasm. Never mind that I feel like more of a grown-up now, one month and some on from finishing my graduate studies. The student life is now but a figment of my imagination, a hallucination from the days I lived in the dungeon corridors of a building far, far away in Switzerland. Tomorrow is my current reality. I will be meeting nearly all the staff of my newly joined department in an "all-hands" meeting, the annual meet-and-greet festival of powerpoint presentations and team-building exercises that kicks off a (hopefully) successful year. I am sure by the time this event comes around again next year, the world will look ever different, with a new set of thoughts and feelings to tide me over on such an evening - but for now I am dig

I promised myself in the new year that I would maintain diligence in my thinking and writing. Every day, I promised myself, would be for discovery and artistic rumination, culminating in a cornucopia of ideas for stories and prose. One year being forced to write a daily diary entry would seem to ingrain the kind of work ethic and routing that would make this easy as pie, right? Already a couple of weeks into the new year, I am behind - but definitely not out of it. With a new place to hang my hat and a new door on which to hang my name placard, I am finally off and running into a new life. And what a brilliant errand it is to make something out of nothing more than packing, moving, and starting a new job. So, here I am, back at it again in the "real world" and wondering what this new year will bring in a world with which I have lost touch over the past six years. I am sprouting roots and experiencing the growing pains that comes with sprouting. In the meantime, I am sl