This past weekend I had the honor of heading to Florida with a friend to attend her 25^th high school reunion. It was something else! Through the invention of Facebook, I felt as if I knew her entire graduating class prior to my arrival. I was the youngest person that was in attendance but when they saw my name tag they knew I was the comment king of FB. I got thanked by people for my funny comebacks on people’s status updates. That was a good feeling. I think I can be a funny guy sometimes and wouldn’t mind giving comedy a go … but then I would probably tank.

But I had snapped out of it and realized these people weren’t here to see me. Or to tell me how great my status updates and quick witted one-liners are … they weren’t here to see their best friend from high school. It has been 25 years. Things have changed. They came from far and wide to see two things – the comedies and the tragedies. The comedic ones would be the ones that are successful – as in the ones that have done something with their lives. I mean they necessarily may not have found a cure for anything or invented anything as cool as the slap chop, but they have made their way in this world. And as you can imagine the tragedies – well, they haven’t done too much at all. There were some of both in attendance. Yes, its true that I have never met most of these people but I knew more about some of the folks from the Brandon High School Class of 1984 than some of the people that WERE the class of 84.

As the first night of the reunion dragged on, I stepped away from the horrible cash bar and walked around the lagoon to the bar. I went back and fetched Kristi and Meg Davis. We went back to the bar. As we stepped out on the lanai for an evening smoke to go with our adult beverage more and more people from the reunion started to congregate together. This wasn’t the socs with the socs or the greasers with the greasers. Everyone mixed together. Not like in high school. The silly cliques are gone. Remember – this is 25 years later. I felt touched. Of course it is always easier for an outsider to see things in 20/20. Perhaps people’s inhibitions were fading and they really didn’t come to see who had failed or who had succeeded. Just teach them well and let them lead the way … okay, thank you, Whitney. Anyway, people gathered. They admitted they didn’t remember some of their classmates. They were there to bond. Not to gain acceptance or feel wanted but to just try to remember the good times they had in the past. Sitting around drinking until the wee hours of the morning seemed to the be the common theme – as well as some midnight walks on the beach.

It was an eye-opener of an event for me. I just had my ten year. We still remember everyone very well. And thanks to Facebook we can keep up with everyone fairly easily. People, for the most part, still looked the same at my reunion. Yes, many of us did shed some pounds. Others gained them. And the cliques were still in force. The stuck up bitches were still the stuck up bitches. Some people have grown up but not many. Maturity doesn’t come with age. It comes with experience. Although I am 28, I feel as though I am several years more mature than a great deal of people I graduated with. I have had a lot of life experiences that have shaped the individual I have become. A proud individual at that. I only attended one night of my reunion as I had no interest in the second night and had other obligations to attend to. I swore that I would never return for another one. However, after this weekend seeing how people can act after 25 years of high school, I can’t wait. I think the planning should start now. It would be great to forget some people – and they way they were only to meet them again and start anew amidst a new set of criteria. You know … not the clothes you wear, the cars you drive, the job you have or even if you are gay or straight. It will be based on things that matter … how the person treats you, what you have in common, finding the good in people …

Here’s to everyone that showed me a great time at the BHS 1984 Reunion … and to everyone from my reunion. I hope to see you all in 15 years to see how we have all “grown up” and how we have all succeeded in maturity in this game we call life.

This weekend was a beautiful weekend for a change in Atlanta. The temperature was nice and the sun was out. I seized the opportunity to start a new project – one that is sure to take several weeks or months to complete. I’ve recently taken a larger interest in photography and wanted to do a portfolio of pictures showcasing something about Atlanta. I could take endless pictures of festivals (since this is ‘festival season’) or take another 200 photographs of skyscrapers. Seeing as I have no interest in getting plowed down by baby carriages in the former and have completed the latter already, I wanted to do something else. For those that know me well, know I have always had a disdain for MARTA; however, recently I have found that I never gave the system a fair go. I have been riding MARTA for a week solid and have few complaints. The complaints I do have are standard – filthy, common people that have no regard for the transportation system or for their fellow traveler. Since MARTA and parts of the city MARTA serves gets a bad rap (and sometimes rightfully so), I decided I would ride MARTA to every stop on the N/S and E/W lines and start a journal of photography showcasing the neighborhoods in which MARTA serves.

This seems like an easy task at first but it really is more time consuming than one can imagine. To be effective and not to miss the “perfect shot” it is best if I spread my time out and not try to pack it into one nice weekend. Surely there are more nice weekends ahead! The plan was and is to get off at every MARTA (train) stop, walk a certain radius and take 10-20 pictures of the neighborhood, buy some local fare and head back to the train. Simple, right? Not so much. You can spend a few hours at each stop and only 20 seconds at another. So there is some balance, but not much.

Beginning this task I was determined and had a game plan. I still do … I just witnessed things this weekend on the train that I couldn’t capture with my lens (how weird would it be for a stranger with no published works to ask another complete stranger for a picture?). Some of the things that I witnessed made me jealous, sick, sad and angry. I was jealous of the dad taking his kids to the Braves game because my dad hardly did anything with me as a kid. If it could be put off on someone else, it was. The bum who literally crawled out of the garbage can with urine and trash all over him smelled so awful it made some people sick (I wasn’t far behind). Riding MARTA and people watching can really open your eyes to see how people treat others. There was a young lady on the train and she had some type of eye disorder that caused her eyes to go in two different directions (yeah, all my eye doctor friends need to comment on what this is). There were other kids on the train that teased her and made fun of her. This enraged me and made me sad at the same time. I really do have a heart. I know some of you don’t believe it, but I do. She sat there with a sad look on her face not sure how to take it. She obviously is accustomed to the teasing but it never gets any easier. I was hurting for her. I was that kid – the kid that got teased. I had to get off at the next stop and wanted so desperately to take her with me … but I didn’t need to add kidnapping to the list of MARTA violations I had already incurred (drinking and eating on the train – tsk, tsk, tsk). I wondered if I would ever see her again.

This morning on the way to work I got off the train at Lindbergh to get a cuppa joe and a lottery ticket and to take a few minutes to enjoy the sun before getting back on the train to head north. When I got back on the train I saw the young lady from yesterday. She was dressed for school (or work since school is out). She looked to be in a bit better spirits this morning than when I saw her last but she still looked a little sad. I had my lunch with me and she kept eyeing my banana. I figured what the hell, it only cost me 15 cents – so I offered it to her. I’m not sure why. I just felt like she needed it. Maybe she hadn’t eaten since I saw her last. Maybe she forgot her food at home – whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. I offered her a string cheese stick and a pack of popcorn (I was taking my weekly bounty to the office to store for snack times). I guess I wanted her to know that all people aren’t like the hoodlums she encountered yesterday. Not everyone is rude.

I’m sure some of you think this is the apocalypse – that I shared my food (which I never do) and felt pain for this person. Think about it. You don’t know what goes through a person’s head. After being teased yesterday maybe she thought about doing something rash like so many bullied people do. But hopefully after today that will lift her up a little bit. Maybe she will know that people can be nice. So think about it. We all judge others. If you say you don’t judge you have just told a lie. So before you pick on someone either to their face, or behind their back – think about it. Give your seat to a woman or an elderly person. If a person begs for money, you don’t have to be an ass. Just politely decline. Do your part to pay it forward – and don’t be so quick to judge.

(Oh yeah … and that photo journal is a continuing work in process!)

I often wonder why people are the way they are. And usually if someone is not what they think we would deem “normal” there is almost always an explanation as to why they are the way they are. Of course it is merely their opinion. It almost always never has to do with them. They can’t make choices that would further their life so they ride the coat tails of an excuse that they think people will accept and it will get them through life. Wrong. The buck stops here. Either you stand up and face your problems like many people have to do every single morning or you stay the same pathetic being you have been for however long you have been on the earth.

It is true. You might have had a traumatic childhood. You possibly even could have been abused. These are things that will have a hand in shaping how you feel, who you are and how you will approach things. But you have to decide what you are going to do and how you are going to live. You need to make a determination to either face these things head on or wilt away and bow to the mind fuck that is sure to exist in your head.

There are several people that come from less than desirable circumstances that have risen from the bad in their lives to something good. And they have become good, productive citizens of this country. Then, there are people that are born with a silver (plated) spoon and have had every single opportunity and are fucked beyond belief in the head. When choosing to live, you have to let all of you live. You can’t say that you will be a good person on Sundays and Monday through Saturday be completely heathenistic. Doesn’t work that way.

When people are in abusive relationships, and choose not to get out, are they still the victim? Do they really think this person loves them? Or will love them? I know someone in one of these situations. Friends and family have rallied to help him get out of this mess. He regularly reports progress but no one sees any sign of this. When questioned he gets defensive indicating that there is no progress being made. At what point is the victim no longer a victim? To those people we know like this:

When you know that this is bad for you and you know you want to get out but you are afraid the hurt the other person what does that say about you? Should we feel sad because you can’t make a stance? I don’t think so. Especially when so many have put so much into caring for your well-being. You make us angry. We are mad. We still love you but can not continue on this train derailment with you. You have hurt yourself. You have hurt us. All for what? To protect the person that has hurt you. In the meantime you have alienated people that care for you and want to see you succeed. You are only hurting yourself further because one day we aren’t going to be here. It will be a classic “the boy who cried wolf” story because you continually SAY what you are doing but you NEVER do it. Get off it. Grow a set and step up to the plate. Knocking it out of the park is your only option since you have struck out. Go back to the dugout and cover your head. Blame it on someone else. But please keep it to yourself because we are tired of shedding tears and being upset over this. The train wrecked already. It’s time to clean it up. And sadly, there won’t be anyone there for you if you keep poking at the hazardous waste site with a coffee stirrer. Get a big ass shovel and get to work if you want to make any REAL progress. But you don’t. If you wanted to, it already would have happened.

We are at the end of the holiday season of this year and to be honest, I'm glad. I have not had a particularly cheerful holiday season thus far. I had surgery in early December only to be stricken with salmonella a few days after getting out of the hospital. What a way to start the Christmas season and end the year?!

For those of you that know my family you know that we really don't see eye-to-eye ... so the thought of going to visit really gets me worked up and generally requires a few Xanax and at least three Budweisers. Add me being sick to the equation and it really gets messy.

This year I was flying from Atlanta to New Bern via Charlotte. Since my operation and salmonella illness, I have been on a host of medications. The cocktail of meds I was on caused me to suffer severe tendonitis in my feet and legs. This would mean a wheelchair would be needed to get me around the airport and to and from my gates. By the way, this is the easiest way to get through security. Anyway, I found people to be real bitches. They saw a person in a wheelchair that doesn't fit the demographic (old, decrepid, severely retarded, etc.) and treated me accordingly. Some woman had the guts to say I was too young to be in a chair. I tripped her with my cane. Karma - she's a bitch. "Merry Christmas! Enjoy your trip!" was my response.

Of course the airline employees were helpful and kind. And I could see the look in their eyes wondering why someone my age was in a chair and how pitiful it must be. The did all they could to assist me. On my flight to Charlotte, I met a man named Bobby. He was a pleasant man from Atlanta and a chef. He had just gotten engaged to his sweetheart that morning before he left to fly home to NYC to visit his mother. When we landed in Charlotte he was very kind and offered to take my bags for me. He met up with me at Chili's and shared a few laighs and some beers before his flight. He didn't know my life or why I was in that chair. He saw me as a person and talked to me, not at me or down to me.

When it came time for my connecting flight, I called for a sky cap and a chair to take me to my gate. Since sky caps are not part of the airline itself it can be hit or miss. My time was running short and so the manager of Chili's, Carlos, was kind enough to push my chair and take my bags to the entire other side of the airport. He did not have to do that and for that I am thankful.

On the flight back the electric cart never picked me up in Charlotte so I had to get myself to the elevator and maneuver with my bags. Out of no where a very nice gentleman, a Marine from Utah with family in Asheville, came up to me and took my bags - along with his duffel- and pushed me back to Chili's so I could get some lunch. We sat and talked for a while and had a few beers. He said he needed to take off. It was about time for me to go catch my flight so I wheeled to my gate. Out of nowhere the nice Marine showed up and started talking to me. He told me he was headed to Atlanta for the weekend. He carried my bags and was excited he could board with me since he was in the last zone and I was in the first. He would actually get some overhead bin space! I got situated and the flight took off. Upon landing in Atlanta he offered to assist me but he had already been too kind and had helped me enough. I was the last get off of the airplane and I didn't want to make this stranger wait any longer to start his weekend.

All three of these men were different. They were from different backgrounds and demographics. From different mindsets and religions. Different colored skin. But they all had one thing in common: humanity. They didn't have that look. The look of pity. They saw me as a person. Not a creature. I was invisible to many. Ignored by others. These three men took time to speak and offer a hand when it was clear I needed one. I am too proud to ask for help. I would have figured something out had they not helped me but I am glad they did. They showed me that not all humanity is lost. There are some caring people out there.

Those of you that know me well know that I am a bitch most of the time. But after this experience I am going to make a focused effort to change. You don't know what someone is going through. Or where they have been. Do not be quick to judge. Take a minute and help someone. Or at least offer. Yes, a wheelchair can slow us down. But for how long? A minute? Two? Time is just that. It binds us. Think about the person that is bound by that chair or those crutches or that cane. I think everyone should have to go through that humiliation at one point or another in their life. It truly is an eye opening experience and I am glad that I was fortunate enough to experience it and in turn experience the kindness of three strangers: Bobby, Carlos, and the un-named Marine. Although my holiday wasn't as bright as it could have been, these guys definitely made it a brighter one and in turn will help to make me a better person. They truly paid it forward. Thank you.

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

(To do this, go to "notes" under "applications" on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag/type 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.)

1. I am OCD about many things. I think items (even "unmentionables") should all be faced forward in cabinets. It honestly takes less time to do it when putting items up then spending 20 minutes looking for something when you need it. I believe things should also be alphabetized.

2. Latex balloons are like ill-behaved children - they have no place around me. I am terrified of latex balloons. The popping noise disturbs me greatly.

2a. While on noises ... I can NOT stand to hear you chew, chomp, crunch, sip, slurp OR smack any food or beverage item. (Please note that was alphabetized.)

3. I like to rough it. And rough it does mean in the woods - not a Ramadama Ding Dong Inn. A travel trailer is STILL roughing it. I do have to note that we have a large ice box. It holds five cases of Budweiser comfortably.

4. I have been in love once. I started having those same feelings for someone else and I told him. Yeah, I was having a weak and stupid moment. I made it my policy years ago not to share my feelings because it leads to disappointment and getting yelled at. The policy is back in force.

5. The thought of dying alone scares the hell out of me. But the thought of leaving someone behind that I love and care for scares me more.

6. In my 27 years, 364 days I have but one regret: I didn't visit my grandfather while he was in the hospital like he wanted me to. I spoke to him on a Tuesday and promised him I would visit him the next day. The next day came and a party started (it was the week of fall break). I phoned to tell him I would see him on Thursday and he was alright with that. Thursday never came. He died a few hours after I spoke to him. I will never forgive myself for that and deal with it on a daily basis. I made a promise and didn't keep it. I feel like I let down the only man that never let me down. From that day forward I never made another promise I didn't honor.

7. The word promise is a powerful word. It should not be used lightly. A promise is, in essence, a contract. When you sign on the dotted line of that contract at the bank or car dealer or mortgage lender you are making a promise to repay. When you make a promise in your personal life you should honor it just the same. I prefer to make plans. Plans are meant to be changed. The terms are flexible and if you know this going in, you can't get TOO bent out of shape if they change.

8. In college I waited until I was elected to the executive council of my fraternity before I came out. They already knew. I have since been the token gay.

9. Although I appear angelic and innocent, I have had my run-ins with authority. My junior year of high school was no exception. On a school trip to Williamsburg, I felt the need to crawl out the hotel window and run around knocking on windows. Yep. Suspended.

9a. I have been mirandized once. On Christmas Eve. Don't ask. I'm not telling.

10. The smell of fried chicken, freshly cut grass and a light breeze remind me of my childhood. Now when I go back to my hometown police sirens, fire trucks, road construction, diesel trucks and the occasional traffic jam (usually involving a horse drawn carriage moving at a snail's pace) remind me of my adulthood and Atlanta.

11. I took ballet, jazz and tap for sixteen and one half years. And I am going to start again. I reckon that makes me a ballerino?

12. I'm not exactly where I wanted to be in life at 28. But it's called LIFE. Although Milton Bradley made a game out of it, it’s anything but that. I did not stay the charted course and I got a little off the beaten path but I am making my way back to the course I charted for myself ten years ago.

13. I tend to over-analyze situations with varying degrees of concern.

14. Believe it or not, I have Social Anxiety Disorder. Yes, isn't that SAD? If I had a penny every time I heard that. I am horrified to go into a social setting alone where I don't know anyone to include restaurants, movie theatres, concerts, and bars. I do make exceptions for restaurants and bars - but tend to only go places I have been a long time customer when going alone. When I go somewhere new, I tend to sit away from other people and keep to myself.

15. Hope is the first pot hole on the road to disappointment. If you hope and build expectations, you have set yourself up for failure. Trust me. I've hoped enough to know.

16. The internet and cell phones have made us all co-dependent. I miss a more simple way of life some days. And before you say you aren't dependent, think about this: how many times have you left home without your phone only to return to get it?

17. Despite rising (petty) crimes in St. Croix, it is the most relaxing place I’ve been. It is a tropical paradise that’s not over-commercialized. The locals are friendly. If you are in a store and they don’t have what you want, they will call a competitor to find it. Many hotel rooms do not have phones. There is no sense of time. You are on your own schedule. For an even more tranquil setting, Buck Island – a short ride across the bay, provides you with sand and clear water and an opportunity to reflect and relax. I plan to make a conscious effort to return to Buck Island in the coming year.

18. Accounting is great. I love it. It can be an honest profession, sans the Bernie Ebbers and Arthur Andersons of the world. However, law is what interests me. Yeah, I will be a 30-something in law school. I'm scared. Nervous. Down right anxious. But a new friend gave me some renewed confidence about it. I will have something those 20-somethings won't - experience.

19. When things don't go my way or as planned I get a bit irritated. And, yes, at my age I even pout.

20. In college I thought I knew it all and decided that I needed to take some time off. I thought being a flight attendant would be fun. Wrong. Those people actually have to work. Flight attendants don't just point out the exits and play with oxygen masks all day. They are parents (for children traveling alone), nurses (for when you get cut putting your fingers down where they shouldn't be), therapists (who have to hear all of your problems and how you are returning from your honeymoon without a honey because you were left at the altar) and mediators (for when you try to fit an elephant of a bag in compartment the size of a kangaroo). Add insult to injury in those awful poly-blend uniforms they have to wear. And what other job will independently ask and thank 264 people for their trash with a big smile on your face? None. Don't miss the message - flight attendants serve a great purpose; however, I am not cut out for that role.

21. Pay it forward -and often. I wrote a previous note about my experiences over the Christmas holidays with three strangers. Those three men changed my life and way of thinking about others. Take a moment to read it. Although I don't care for the holidays, looking back on the experience, I think it was probably the best Christmas in recent memory.

22. Things happen for a reason. I truly believe that you meet the people you meet and do the things you do for a reason. It’s not happenstance paths cross. I have met some truly amazing people that have opened my eyes to many things. You never know who you are going to meet or where they will take you.

23. I have a lot of embarrassing moments. From streaking around my fraternity house (The Lodge, for those of you in the know) in the snow to accidentally turning on the emergency exit lights when Hillary Clinton and her Secret Service agents were on a flight of mine, I’ve certainly kept it interesting.

24. My self-image could be better and I am working on it. I rarely feel attractive; although I proclaim all of the time how cute I am. It's merely a facade.

25. What I fear the most in life is letting down the people around me and not living up to my full potential. It seems easier to just throw the towel in some days.

Interesting. Thanks to my fraternity brother, Brother Parker, for finding this and also thanks to my astoot right click ability to lift directly from his blog (http://littlebluerock.blogspot.com ).