In terms of communication:

So, a good weekend has grabbed me by the metaphorical tail & is at it's end. Tomorrow I face the last of three days of pre-ordained work. It's undecided on my account, but I can assure you, with my schedule as is, there is work to be done.

My cat is outside, as am I. Soaking in the windy rain that is the true lot of any Seattle-lite. I am one of those, being 15 years into this game. My cat, who arrived in Seattle shortly after I did, is old now... given how cat years run... but I am still a pup.

Cooperation & familiarity ruled the roost this weekend & that seems correct, given my new focus of home over work & friends over co-workers. But there is much to be done to complete the transmission. Assured, as I am, over the limitlessness of Plaxo (the web address book that houses my contact information), I am still concerned that the Marlena's, Craig's & Matt's of the world will not have sufficient access to me in the switch from high tech to high road.

There isn't a sure way to confirm the footing upon which I travel. The road is more than even friends can help foreshadow & caution seems to be the key.

If I told you that in this transition that all I have been concerned about is that the folks who deserve it would get the love that I have to share, what could that mean to you, unless you are one of the deserving? As selective as I am, how could I not leave out a Molly or two? How could I not look to a Shannon or a Jessica to help me pick up the pieces? And what does it mean that wine is the impetus for this posting?

The web has been all but silent on this issue. It offers me no more than a hyperbolic Jacko entry or a repetitive warning on the mistakes of the House of Bush.

I'm going it alone, fundamentally & must trust that the falling away of crutches like caffiene & nicotine will suffice as I find my way to my true calling and to what will truly help me give what it is that I apparantly have to give...