The crisis seems to be averted, and it appears we will be keeping the house. I apologize if I seem overly emotional about the subject, but it’s very upsetting to me to think about. First of all, I love my house. I really, really love my house. THIS house. It’s my first house, and it’s beautiful, and I don’t want to leave it until I’m ready to.

Beyond that, there’s a psychological issue of a feeling of failure associated with the thought of losing the house. When we bought the house, I had a good job that was paying me fairly well. When I lost that job and decided to try the business full time, it gave me a great sense of satisfaction to be able to hold on to our house while supporting myself almost entirely with the business (and, of course, Ali’s paycheck). The idea of no longer being able to afford the house said to me, in a way, that I had failed, and that I could NOT support myself off of the business. I didn’t like that feeling either.

So, I apologize for going back and forth and up and down with this. If it’s been tough for you to read, imagine how tough it’s been for me to live through.

Continuing on the emotional rollercoaster, my hopes of keeping my house once again begin to plummet….

It was requested that I post something about Christmas and holidays and things I did and stuff. I don’t know about any of that, but I guess I’ll give it a shot….

On Christmas Eve, I went to my in-law’s house for their annual Christmas Eve gathering. There were family and friends and whatnot, but, in typical Sussman fashion, I spent the evening in a room with my parents, mostly seperated from the rest of the party, and we just talked and hung out, and towards the end of the evening (fairly late into the evening for us), we turned on the TV and I watched Gilmore Girls. Still, there was good food, and I actually had a nice time talking with my parents (this caused problems later, but we’ll get to that).

I came home that night to find the previously mentioned statement from my mortgage company. This is, as I write, being dealt with (I hope). If not, you’ll be hearing about it again as I fall apart into an emotional wreck while trying to sell my house.

Anyway, after a fairly sleepless night, I woke up early on Christmas morning, gathered some presents together, and drove to Philadelphia to spend the morning with the in-laws at Ali’s sister’s house. This year, instead of just the niece and nephew, we also had the cousin’s kids there, so there were four small children opening presents. Although we thought this would take twice as long, present opening went surprisingly fast. The kids tore through their presents (which young Harry later regretted when everyone else was still opening presents and he had nothing else to open). I was pleased to get a good deal of nice clothing, DVDs and CDs. I gave Ali her nice, new digital camera. There were bagels and cakes, and then, around 1:00, Ali and I returned to our house.

At around 3:00, my parents arrived at our house for another round of present opening. After presents, Ali began to make dinner. Here’s where Christmas Eve became a problem. I spent so long talking to my parents the night before, that I now had nothing else to talk to them about while we waited for, and while we had dinner. Still, Ali made some wonderful linguine and shrimp concoction, and dinner was good.

After dinner and some watching of the news, a group of us gathered for our traditional Christmas Day-night movie. We had originally planned to go see Ali (the movie, not my wife). After a bit of debate, though, we decided to go see A Beautiful Mind. As we got near the theater, we noticed that the parking lot was unusually empty, even for Christmas. As we got closer, we noticed that the lobby was strangely dark. There were a few people milling around outside, and two police cars. It turns out that the theater had been closed after a riot had taken place. After some quick checking of movie times by way of my mobile web connection, we decided to go to another local movie theater, which was unfortunately not playing A Beautiful Mind. We ended up seeing Ali (the movie, not my wife), anyway. It was not a bad movie, and I was very impressed with the performances. I think, however, that I was expecting it to be better. I’m sure I’ll watch it again, some day, with my now lowered expectations, and enjoy it a great deal. The saddest part about the movie experience was that Ali (my wife, not the movie) decided, again, not to go with us. She did that last year, too, and it’s sad. I don’t like it. Next year, she has to go.

The day after Christmas was Bryan’s last day in NJ before returning to Seattle. We gathered and went to Chevy’s for lunch, and then returned to my house to hang out and wait for Bryan to fly away from us. There was laughter, the taking of a few digital pictures, and general fun. Then I was dragged to the mall by Ali (my wife, not the boxer). We picked up many more DVDs and CDs with the fun Christmas money we had received.

That brings us up to date, as you know that I spent yesterday at “work” doing nothing. Here I am at “work” again, today, with absolutely nothing to do. It’s 10:19 as I finish writing this. At 12:00 I’m leaving for lunch, and I’m not coming back.

Love Hurts: The five deadly sins of romantic comedies

I couldn’t have said it better myself. Except for the part about Amelie. Ugh.

I was asked to come in to “work” today by my “supervisor”. She had originally told me, two weeks ago, that my assignment would be ending this past Friday (the 21st). She then asked me on that Thursday (the 20th) if I would be able to come in the Thursday after Christmas (today). So, here I am. She’s not in, however. I finished up something I had to do for someone else, and have been sitting here ever since, doing nothing. At 3:30, I’m walking out the door…

Partygoers Mocked By Catering Staff

“Whenever people are forced to serve others, resentment and derision are inevitable,” said Dr. Henry Janssen, a University of Georgia anthropologist. “This tradition dates back to Ancient Greece, where servants at grand Athenian feasts would sneak into the kitchen to put on short plays lampooning the foibles of their wealthy, gluttonous guests. As long as there are people who stuff their faces with mini-meatballs while wearing bad ties, there will be servers there to make fun of them.”

The A/V staff, too. We, too, will mock you. We even have headsets to aid in our mockery.

I think the human capacity for forgiveness is very important. It’s important, in the process of forgiving, to not forget, but it is good to forgive.

I apologize for the false alarm. When I got home on Christmas Eve night, I found in my mailbox a statement from my mortgage company telling me that my monthly mortgage payment had been raised by $600 per month, effectively immediately. The result of this, if it is true, is that I would I have to sell my house. I love my house. I don’t want to sell it (and, of course, this is regardless of a lot of other implications that this raises in my mind, but I won’t get into that). Anyway, after more careful inspection and conversations with people who are wiser and more experienced than I am, it looks as though this is an error by the mortgage company based upon an error by the tax assessor. With any luck, this will all be worked out very soon.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful Christmas. I’m having one of the worst days of my life…

Looky at what I found!

I’m all for violence and explosions in my mindless entertainment, but I think I might actually have to agree with these people who talk about Grand Theft Auto 3.