It was 2013. I had quit my job with nothing lined up. After having recently had an anniversary there. 10 years. I knew if I didn’t leave, I’d easily be there another 10 years.

At first, it was a thrill. Driving against traffic. All the cars headed off in one direction. Brake lights. And me driving along the opposite way. Smooth sailing. My ego laughing, “I’m out of the rat race suckers!” As if I’d figured something out, that everyone else hadn’t. I was free.

Right off the bat, I got a freelance job directing some commercials. I had always wanted to be a director (to be the noun, do the verb), but my previous 10 year+ gig had been in editing. I made some money. Did some good work. Played some tennis with a friend.

But then winter came. And the work dried up. And suddenly, things weren’t so easy. In the spring. A montage of repetitive imagery. Pushing shopping carts, lawn mowers. Grass growing. Grass mowing. Grass growing. Grass mowing. Didn’t I want to escape such repetition? 

Never before having worried about the yard, I found myself doing a lot of yard work. I devoured books by Joseph Campbell, philosophy, new age, spirituality, psychology. Got focused on self improvement.

In the end you quit your running, you quit trying to escape. You drop to your knees, in tears. And tears turn to blessings. You start accepting. You realize how hard you’ve been on yourself. How driven you are. And self improvement, begins to become self acceptance. And slowly you start liking the person you are. No longer pointing fingers at parents or bosses, but accepting your past, so you can move forward.

Summer comes and your friends help you out of your shell. You spend time by rivers, and enjoy gatherings. The many birthdays in a year.

Fall comes and the leaves are beautiful.

Winter comes and you worry, it’ll be like last winter. But it’s a new winter. And you’re a new you. The old you. Minus so much of the fear and pain.

Welcome back.



Made In America

I was at a small independent pet store yesterday looking at dog toys and noticed one that was hand-made in America, using old denim. I thought this was a great idea. Then I asked how much it cost. $13.99. For a toy my dog is going to chew apart in 10 minutes. I looked at all the other Made In China toys. Lots of plastic, rubber, etc. Most of them $6. I was going to go ahead and buy a cheap one, but then I realized THIS IS THE WHOLE PROBLEM. Sometimes you have to take a IT CHANGES WITH ME attitude and do the right thing. I bought the $13.99 toy (the cashier decided to give me a few dollars off!) and my dog was extremely excited to tear it apart and get to the squeaker.


Made In America

The Creative Cloud Has An Outrageous Cancelation Fee

Two months ago, I signed up for the Adobe Creative Cloud, specifically, one piece of its software. For about $20, I could try it out, and $20 a month for software seemed affordable. I thought that’s cool. I had a good experience. But money’s a little tight right now, so I needed to cancel. Today, when I went to cancel the cloud, I was informed I’d need to pay $107 ! Apparently, I was locked into a year long contract, and resolving this has lead to me spending 30 minutes chatting with an overseas customer service rep in an attempt to get this fee waived.

This feels as difficult as getting out of Sprint (even though I was already out of contract). Sprint is like the Hotel California, you can check out anytime you like, but you just can’t ever leave. In fact, you can’t even cancel at their store, you have to call in.

Adobe seems to be using a similar tactic. Cut to me having to “internet chat.”

I wish companies would just make great products and let people come and go as they please.

But unfortunately, they treat their customers, a lot like they treat the earth. We get fracked and f**ked. And I don’t want to have this kind of negative, piss poor attitude.

You suck Adobe. You suck.


UPDATE: I went back to their website and it looks like it’s quite easy to make the same mistake I did, and sign up for AN ANNUAL account ($19.99) instead of a MONTHLY account ($29.99). So be cautious. 

The Creative Cloud Has An Outrageous Cancelation Fee