First, an apology for my lack of actual convention coverage. An explanation, if you will: I've been enjoying all of the social benefits that such conventions have to offer. Most of these take place, for some odd reason, which I have not, nor care to, figure out, at the same time that the convention itself (at least in the IPF speaking form) takes place. Perhaps the speakers are so bad that they want us to preoccupy ourselves with inebriation instead of actually hearing the IPF's speak. I'm not sure.
Regardless, I have provided you with little, OK, no, objective perspective. Ah, well. Here it is: Guliani's speech ruled. Everyone else (so far) was about par for what I expected of them, even Ahnold - Medicine Square Godden (HT
Lileks). Guliani defined why I am voting for Bush.
Secondly, and far more importantly, I have just successfully resisted temptation. This doesn't often happen in my life so its worthy of first point (though somehow it still got second - blame the editors). Right now (temptation swells again within me even as I type)...right now there is yet another party, this one at Jay Z's 40/40 club, which I have wanted to grace for some number of days. My friends are there and they have called me to inform me that the scene is, in fact, bouncing.
And I sit here, and I know that I will not go tonight, and I will probably die without ever stepping foot on its Italian marble floors.
I will go to bed, presently, and although I will not sleep directly, I will wake tomorrow morning somewhat more rested than if I had caught the midnight bus into the city to rock until the break of dawn.
I'm in market all day tomorrow - we'll be buying Calvin Klein's spring line. I'll slip out at lunch for my interview, and later spend the evening watching the acceptance speech at Pressure. That will make up for my restraint this evening. That will be my deferred gratification.
Sometimes I really don't understand why deferred gratification is such an epic goal. At the end of the day, we're all going to die really soon. When I'm choking (not wheezing) my last few breaths, I certainly don't hope I'm thinking of my bloody office and the misery I've experienced at its hands. I hope I'm thinking of the joys I experienced.
I thought of this tonight on my walk home from the gym: my chief end is to glorify God *and* ENJOY Him forever. When I'm dead, I suppose that's all I'll be doing - enjoying Him. But am I doing that now?
Would I be enjoying it more by living up tonight, and hating life tomorrow?
Am I growing old now, that I choose the responsible choice?
Is this "enjoying" Him?
Do I even know how to?