I have a death wish while driving.

I've noticed that I cannot tolerate rudeness and aggression from other drivers while I am driving. I'm not sure why I behave like this; most of the time I simply ignore such behaviour and move on. This pattern gets thrown out the window, though, while I am behind the wheel. I present to you 3 cases:

I am in a parking lot. As I'm inching forward in a parking lot jam, trying to get home, a car in a lot in front of me starts reversing out of a parking spot, getting in my way. I wait until the car clears the spot and moves on. While I am waiting, the impatient driver of the SUV behind me starts gesticulating wildly and honking me. I get irritated, so I flip him the bird. He promptly replies with self-same gesture and then proceeds to hound me ALL the way through the parking lot, hitting the horn as he goes while he tailgates my car. I eventually get tired of the whole thing and manage to give him the slip.

I am once again in a parking lot. The car in front of me starts parking in an inappropriate spot, blocking my way. I get annoyed and frown very hard at him. Suddenly the driver rolls down the window and starts gesticulating wildly at me, at one point even lifting his steering lock and shaking the contraption at me. I am puzzled, but pay him no mind when he finally drives away. After parking my car, the same driver stalks towards me and starts yelling obscenities at me. Suicidally, I insult him right back (in a far more articulate and sophisticated fashion, of course). Now he's steaming mad and rushing at me with his fists balled. Suicidally (again), I stand my ground and prepare to get caught up in a fistfight. (I think I did this because I had a female passenger with me, and had this momentary need to protect her from the harm that an apparently crazy motorist can visit on nearby onlookers.) This seems to give him pause, and he stops his violent advance. Negotiations reopen, and we discover that there was some "miscommunication" (obviously a face-saving gesture). He thought I was insulting him in my car while he was trying to maneuver out of a tight spot. I assure him I was not. Apologies are made and the situation blows over.

I am driving down the highway, about to shift into the higher-speed middle lane. I check my mirrors, take a quick look to my right and start switching lanes, signal lights flashing. A really fast-moving vehicle from way back (right lane) suddenly switches to the middle lane and before you know it, is blaring his horn at me for obstructing his way. It's too late for me to switch back into my original lane, so I ignore him and finish the lane switch. The driver is incensed by my brazen move and continues to honk at me, flashing his high beams. When he gets no reaction, he draws up parallel to my car to do...I don't know what. Instead of ignoring him, I flash him a cheery smile and a wave. This really gets his goat. This uncouth middle-aged man then continues to tailgate me nearly all the way to the office, obviously going out of his way to do violence onto my person. I briefly considered driving straight to a police station, but instead manage to give him the slip by making an unscheduled (and therefore, dangerous) turn, leaving him stranded on the highway.

If I keep this up, one day this will all end in tears. I really need to learn to be less impulsive on the roads.

I refuse to say what I want you to know so badly.

Contrary to popular opinion, the idea that "if you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you" is not predominantly ensconced within the female domain. The trend is alarmingly popular among males too. The difference here is that guys simply do it differently...and are possibly even more prone to misinterpretation compared to the fairer sex.

Many guys will clam up and bunker down whenever an argument arises with their significant other. There are many reasons for doing this: it may be to avoid provoking her and fuelling the argument, to stop himself saying really hurtful things that he doesn't mean, or even to give himself time to think and prepare a proper response. The reasons are legion, and I cannot cover them all. What interests me, however, is the stony silence that occurs once the girl runs out of steam and quiets down herself.

This is the time when the man starts yelling in his head, screaming out everything he wants to say within the confines of his skull. He vents, he rages, he gets very emotional. He doesn't hold back; anything he wants to say will resound in his head there and then. Every retort or answer he thought of during her tirade will be presented at this time. The problem here, of course, is that it all stays in his head. The girl has no clue about what's going on. She thinks he's being cold, or even worse, disinterested.

Why doesn't he just let it all out, let her know, get it over with? Again, the reasons are too many to consider. But one common reason is that he expects her to know what he wants to say. It should be obvious, right? She's been with him for so long, she should understand him. He doesn't need to say it out loud. She can probably even read it all off the expression on his face. And this assumption is a bad mistake to make.

Stop assuming, be blunt, get it all off your chests, work it out.

Shut up, sit down, and listen.

I'm a very good listener when I want to be. Among my friends, I am the premier vent-o-matic and shoulder to cry on. Let me share with you the secret techniques I employ so that one day, you too can earn the dubious honour of 'Best Person To Talk To When Shit Hits The Fan'!

Which technique I use depends on the personality of my patient/tormentor. Some people just want to talk and rant and bitch, some are looking for comfort, some want to feel vindicated about their decisions and some are actually looking for advice on what to do. Of course, these aren't hard and fast rules. Use your own judgement. Mix and match if and as required.

I generally fall back on 4 main techniques:
- the void (or sponge)
- the acolyte
- the tear-stained pillow
- the wise man

With these 4 techniques, or any sensible combination thereof, I guarantee that you will be the target of every rant and crying session, or your money back!

Now, let's get into the techniques themselves and you can see for yourself how effective they are. The key is choosing the right one for the situation at hand.

The void (or sponge) is the persona you assume when the person who's ranting at you is supremely confident of themselves, quite intelligent and has difficulty accepting criticism. Such people are susceptible to long rambling monologues , and they HATE to be interrupted in any way. These are the easiest to deal with, usually. All you have to do is shut up and listen. Even if they say something you disagree with, don't say anything, unless they prompt you to. You can show signs of displeasure on your face if you wish, but don't expect them to react unless you strike a nerve. Preferably, don't strike a nerve. When prompted to respond, do it in a neutral fashion that does not invite too much argument, or keep your answers short. However, you MUST be attentive to what they say. This is because as they are winding down their monologue, you will be expected to cut in and give your opinions. There will be some debate; be prepared to defend your opinions properly. Don't worry too much though, these people eventually come up with the most logical solution to their problems and all you have to do is tell them that they've arrived at the only possible conclusion to this bloody mess.

The acolyte, on the other hand, is quite a vocal creature. You assume a stance of righteous indignation, a man who has been grievously wronged. Your target is easily excitable, has great belief in their (probably) skewed version of right and wrong, and can get quite violent if not properly handled. You have been warned. Assume this persona only if you actually believe their cause is just. Otherwise, it is safer to be the void. All you have to do is infect yourself with their agitation and energy. Get yourself a little worked up. Raise your voice. Agree with them a lot. "That fucker/bitch deserves a good kicking!" is a good exclamation to throw in every now and then. However, your goal isn't to work them up into a frenzy so that they actually go out and do something horrible to right the perceived wrong. You want them to vent in a controlled fashion, waste the energy away until they calm down. Therefore, learn to read them; the moment you note a moment of hesitation, cut them off and play the devil's advocate. They will direct some of their anger at you, but if you play your cards right, you can get them to doubt themselves enough so that they see the issue more clearly. Once they've lost a bit of their reason to get angry in the first place, you can gently lead them back to a semblance of control. They'll get a little grumpy, maybe sheepish. Do what you can to allay their discomfort.

The tear-stained pillow is the one that tries my patience the most, and is usually only required by a small subset of people, and they are invariably women. They will be crying. They will want comfort, and they will want you to understand them. They don't really want you to take their side, only to show sympathy. Lots of it. "There, there, it's alright. Let it all out." and "Oh, you poor thing." are good phrases to use repeatedly. Things may get messy. You may be required to provide hugs and tissues. Do not, under any circumstances, provide solutions to their problems, no matter how trivial or easily fixed they are. They'll figure it out on their own. Just sit tight and bear it out until they feel better and go home/away. Alternatively, you may have to cheer them up somehow. Good luck with that.

Last, but not least, is the wise man. This can be either the easiest or the hardest of the lot to accomplish, because you have to come up with REAL solutions. It is usually used in combination with any of the other 3 techniques, and doesn't really stand on its own except in particularly rare situations. In this form, you listen to the problem and give your own honest opinion on how to fix the problem. It has to be fair, and considerate to all sides implicated in the issue. The delivery varies, though. You can be professorial, straight to the point, or couch it as delicately as appropriate. You must also be able to determine if the target really wants to hear your opinion or is simply spouting rhetoric.

There you have it, my secret to winning the unsought-for title of 'Best Person To Talk To When Shit Hits The Fan'! Follow these steps and you'll be well on your way to losing sleep due to impromptu trips to beaches in the next state at 3 in the morning and silently hating yourself as you use the truth like a knife to hurt others when they come to you for help.

For questions, or to arrange speaking arrangements by yours truly, please record your statements in the comments section below. Thank you, and good luck!

I wait for no man.

I hate waiting. Waiting implies inactivity, and I am a perpetually restless person. I cannot sit idly by unless I know I am accomplishing something by doing so. I cannot be patient unless I know doing so draws me closer to my goal. Even then, I chaff at the self-enforced walls of restraint.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not impatient. I am not the kind of person who must have everything quickly, who must get quick results all the time. I am not about instant gratification; I can be deathly serene about waiting, as long as something is there to occupy my attention. As long as I am doing something, my mind and body can vent all its excess energy safely, if not productively. This is one of the reasons why I enjoy music; my mind runs through the lyrics as the song plays, anticipates the note changes and instrument flourishes, and my legs tap to the beat. I have to keep moving, all the time, until I tire myself out and sleep.

When it comes to waiting for events to happen or circumstances to change, I can be equally restless. This usually results in me falling into all sorts of emotional moods and going through mental anguish while I internally debate the pros of waiting versus the cons of lost opportunities that occur from my restraint while I vacillate, trusting the day will come. It is quite a horrible predicament. It's not even faith that keeps me going; at least with faith, you put all your hopes into a God who answers you all the time(I think)...just not in the way you expect. But when you wait for a person....you can't even call it faith. Instead, it is self-delusion, illusions of hope and grandeur, self-inflicted promises and encouragement to hold on for just that little bit longer. It is rubbish, there is no value in it, you cannot trust it, there is no institution that would back such currency. "This dream is good for 1 metric kilogramme of gold, vouched for by the Bank of False Hopes." Hardy har har.

I am so tired.

Yet still I wait. Resilient, unchanging, and constant.

Something significant has happened.

Well, shit. This wasn't part of the plan.

Honestly speaking, I don't think I ever had a plan in the first place. Just a really really vague idea of how I want my life to be in the indeterminate future. I don't have a 5-, 10-year plan or whatever it is that other more ambitious/confident people have. All I had was a vague idea where I lived a pretty comfortable and decent life, all my needs fulfilled and some luxuries thrown in for good measure. Maybe a small family. Nothing fancy. No expensive cars, no multiple properties. Working 5 days a week, maybe a weekend once a month, nothing too strenuous. My nights would be untouched. I would be free.

Things have taken a VERY sudden turn now though. It all started when I decided to pick up a freelance project from my boss. I would basically do it out of office hours. After studying the project, I knew I was way in over my head if I were to do it alone. So I decided to recruit my colleague to work on the project with me. We would split the payout and workload equally.

Near the end of the project, we started thinking about how we would want to be paid. After some thinking, we decided that we did not want to be paid a lump sum for our efforts. We weren't willing to just let go of something that took so much of our time and energy for a simple sum of money, no matter how large. In the end, we decided to work out an arrangement with our employer, where we would take a smaller initial payout in return for monthly royalties, based on how how many customers used this little software.

After some initial wrangling, we came out of the discussion mostly intact. But something had changed. We initially wanted chump change every month for as little responsibility as possible. But after negotiations with our employer(curse you Vincent and your rationalisations!), it looks like a very real possibility that I and my partner are on our way to owning our very first commercially-viable intellectual property. We would license the software out to our employer, who would pay us royalties periodically, based on how many of his customers used it. We would be responsible for maintaining and updating the software as and when required. Our employer would be mostly concerned with selling it.
This has essentially turned into a formal business arrangement, with negotiations, and contracts, products, services and goodness knows what else.

I am now effectively a businessman. Oh, the horror.

Nowhere in my shitty little plan for the future did it say that I would actually be involved in business. I'm not a visionary. I don't come up with sweeping business strategies. I'm not driven to succeed. I don't want to work so hard in order to make oodles of money. I am shell-shocked, overwhelmed and more than a little terrified of what this all means, and will entail. I don't know what kind of price I'll be paying in order to run a freaking business of my own. I am not prepared. I don't have the right mentality. I'm just a simple, lazy guy trying to make a little more money, that's all. I am afraid that this is going to be well over my head, and it will all come crashing down like a skyscraper being demolished. Neat, controlled, utterly devastating and somewhat spectacular(fuck the house of cards simile. This will hurt.).

I can't think about it. I'm afraid to think about it. Something has changed, and I am fearful of it, and yet, I am curious to see how it will all pan out. The cat has yet to figure out that his curiosity will kill him.

I think I had better buckle up. Life is about to get somewhat interesting, I think.

A perfect evening.

It was the 19th of May, 2008. A public holiday, I had spent the afternoon wrangling around with some work that needed doing. At around 5pm, I had gotten very bored and decided not to waste the whole day completely on working. I took a book, my iPod, my phone and my car keys and headed out the door.

I drove around a bit, trying to decide on where to read. After a while, I decided to head to a small playground of sorts. It was a pretty sort of place, with huge fir trees around the perimeter, well-kept grass and aging but sturdy playground equipment and benches, as well as gazebo-like things scattered all over. I chose a seat on one of the spring-fulcrum see-saws and started to read, bouncing up and down gently like a vertical-motion rocking chair. It gave my restless legs something to do while the rest of my body was engaged in other more useful tasks, such as holding the book in place and reading words off the pages. I began reading.

The sun's rays were muted, filtering through a bank of puffy white clouds. It provided a very comfortable light to read by, and warmed my skin slightly where it struck. It was quite a pleasant feeling. To top it off, there was a light breeze blowing through the grounds, heightening the idyllic sense of being I was beginning to feel myself slip into.

After a while, a car pulled up and the driver released a pack of truly adorable dogs into the playground, two Labradors and a chihuahua! The chihuahua was especially friendly, it came up to me and immediately started prancing about. After a few friendly overtures, I left it to tear up and down the field, chasing the other dogs. Ah, a dog's life!

Eventually the dogs had to go home and I was left to my own devices again. The sun was going down but the breeze still had not abated. I relocated to one of the gazebo-like structures, put on my headphones, piped music from my iPod through them and continued reading. I had multiple trains of thought running through my head at this time. Number one, that I had not felt this relaxed in a long time, revelling in my self-imposed solitude. Number two, Bobby Shaftoe, please stop hallucinating, pull yourself together and help Lieutenant Root toss that decoy off the plane already before AA fire completely ruins the whole mission and you die for nothing. THERE ARE NO GIANT LIZARDS HERE. Number three, if only I could replicate this setting more often. Or ever.

Eventually the sun dipped low enough and I had to stop reading. I packed up, got in the car and headed home.

I want more evenings like that.

Epiphany #2

It's funny how my most enjoyable vacations usually require another, more sedate, vacation with which to recover. I am so tired.