Harassment Watch

Last Sunday morning, June 1st at approximately 10AM, my roommate took the dog out with him for morning coffee walk before I got up myself. Leaving the apartment minutes later on my own quest for a latte, I had a couple of regular faces around the neighborhood ask where my dog was. I replied that I was having a one of those idyllic days for parents where the kid is off under someone else’s care and you don’t have to worry about it. Morning coffee in hand, I returned home to have my roommate inform me that he needed to tell me something.

Apparently, they had gone to a different local coffee shop, Good Omen Coffee Co., and had spent a few moments seated at a table outside, making conversation with a couple of other patrons with their own dog while the pets socialized together. During this, my roommate saw my harasser, off at a distance and putting his biological baby child into a carrier inside of a car; Good Omen is the designated neutral location used for child exchanges for his unsupervised visitations. Thinking nothing of it, my roommate was suddenly distracted by another passing dog whose presence triggered and unpleasant response among all the dogs present, requiring him to frantically scramble to detain my dog without any advance indication. As the other dog finished passing without incident, he looked up to find the harasser with his phone out recording him and my dog. Upon noticing this, my roommate started drawing the attention of the couple he had been talking to and anyone in their vicinity toward Leonardo, the crazy man standing off at a distance recording them for no reason, getting them to verbally acknowledge that it was strange and weird behavior.

As I was told, the harasser was parked and recording them approximately in the area denoted by the red rectangle

This is all highly reminiscent of last summer, when on July 15, 2024, the harasser took advantage of crossing paths with my roommate while he was walking the dog—having had multiple instances of passing by me without my slightest acknowledgement—to bait him into an interaction he then sensationalized and used as a basis to file a request for restraining orders against both him and myself, alleging stalking, harassing, threats of violence, and fear for his safety and, even more heinously, that of his biological child.

All done as a pre-emptive ploy to undercut the validity of the testimony he knew I was going to provide in his family court custody case, of his homophobic hate speech and attempt at forced entry into my residence with the intent of physical violence on the day the baby was born, delivered via at-home birth by my downstairs neighbor.

Screenshot from the California Appellate Courts Case Information system of the Case Summary for Appeal Case D086030, Di Giacomo v. Lew

Given that I current have an active case in the Court of Appeals against him, I can’t help but suspect he might be trying to scheme up some ploy to try to improve his chances in the appeal (it won’t) and/or initiate some new frivolous action. I will not be surprised in the slightest if some time this week he files a new completely bogus case against one or both of us.

To quote the great classical philosopher Gwen Stefani:

“Few times been around that track so it’s not just gonna happen like that”.

I’d elaborate further, but much as I want to, it’s not yet the time nor place.

Graduation

Graduation

It’s been a few days since I graduation from San Diego City College on Thursday, finally getting to walk after having completed all my required coursework in the Summer of last year and my degree not issued until the conclusion of the Fall 2024 semester. Dated December 16, 2024 and received in the mail back on March 3rd of this year, it’s an accomplishment that’s been stuck in a state of suspense and nice to finally have played out in full.

I was curious as to how I would feel that day, having never done a graduation walk before; I had tested out of high school at the start of my senior year, obtaining a legal diploma equivalent by way of the California High School Proficiency Exam (CHSPE). Thereafter, I had made peace with living a life in which I would not be a college student/graduate, and the opportunity to walk for a graduation ceremony a faint and highly unlikely possibility. I never really felt like I missed out on anything special by skipping my high school senior year and its processions, and after 20 years of mentally treating graduation ceremonies as something so personally meaningless, was unsure where my perspective would land that day. 

It ultimately ended up being a very gratifying experience. I wore my regalia while I took the dog out for a walk before heading down to Balboa Park to check in for the commencement ceremony in the early afternoon. It was nice to show off to everyone I know, and to get congratulatory acknowledgements from strangers throughout the entire day. 

While it’s been great to bask in the accomplishment, reality doesn’t wait, and I immediately have the matter of financing the summer session and choosing classes for the upcoming Fall semester to contend with. 

Not only that, the commencement ceremony also brought a bittersweet poignancy to matter. Getting my associate’s degree is something I’ve already done, it’s time and effort already spent that I no longer have ahead of me as my future but instead as my past; that much older and done through this life. And in a more immediate context, the challenge of putting these degrees to work and materializing a return on this investment—and pay off the student loan debt incurred to obtain them—isn’t that far away off. Seeing as how even graduate-level professionals with advanced degrees are facing high uncertainty and competition in the modern job market, getting academic credentials is only a part of the process.

This student life of mine is only slated to last for another calendar year, presuming everything goes according to plan between now and then. That means that on top of keeping things together academically between now and the slated finish line next Spring, I’ve also got a lot of other areas of personal development to vigorously work on: health & physical fitness, real-world social networks, creative output and hobbies, interpersonal relationship management, the list goes on.

All my adult life, my approach has been to keep my head low, do hard and good work, and learn as much as possible. Doing that independently taught me a lot, now being further reinforced by the standards of collegiate education in business studies. But I also realize it’s time to start changing tack and doing “more” to make something out of both myself and my recently-changed legal name.

Regroupment

Regroupment

This month has flown by so fast. All of April leading up until last week was an academic gauntlet, sole focus on ensuring my academic success while sacrificing every other aspect of my life that isn’t my dog. In the week since finishing the Spring semester at SDSU, I’ve been preoccupied with catching up on personal administrative/financial work, and preparing for the graduation commencement ceremony from San Diego City College.

In this time between classes, it feels like I’ve got a lot to do in order to prepare for the upcoming Summer session and the Fall semester to follow. Optimizations to my homework/study space, and to my lifestyle. Over the past 1½ months, I’ve been sacrificing all of my fitness and recreational activities to concentrate on academics; I haven’t journaled or exercised much at all lately, and any updates here at all.

The goal between now and the start of the upcoming summer session is to apply the takeaways from my inaugural semester at SDSU and get everything in place to make sure the next one goes even better. Not will there be the remaining academic workload to tend to, but also my other projects and initiatives. Things are only going to get busier, and also form the foundation for the things to come—but that’s a train of thought for another time.

Spring 2025 Semester: Completed

Spring 2025 Semester: Completed

Had the last two final of exams for this semester today, one at late morning and other in the early evening.

It’s hard to believe it’s already over and done with. As much I’m glad to progress and keep moving forward, there is a certain melancholy over how fast it all seems to be passing. One down, two more to go.

mode of VULGAR

mode of VULGAR

This Friday, I went to go see Dir en grey perform for the first time since 2011 at the House of Blues in Anaheim. I was originally supposed to go with the same person I’d gone with last time I saw the band live, but they ended up not going. All of my subsequent efforts to find someone else to go—and eventually, resell the ticket—failed to materialize. However, I’ve never been one to be held back by the prospect of going alone to a concert. Rather than wearing one of my old Japanese rock band/concert tees, I decided I was going to attend repping my present-day musical apex, Beyoncé’s RENAISSANCE, so I threw on a tour tee and my silver sparkling high tops and made the drive up to Anaheim in the early evening little after 5PM.

Background

I have a long running history with this band, being a first-wave fan back in the early 2000s when information and even their music itself was both scarcely available and heavily gated by language barriers and regional music industry practices. I had found I liked hard rock and many of its sub-genres at the time and was a fan of plenty of domestic acts, but Dir en grey was my first love in music. From their instrumentation to their aesthetic, they seemed to be executing all the best parts of the different American bands I liked on another level. Before Dir en grey, rock music was a single dissonant harmony to me, but at first listen, terms like “lead guitar”, “rhythm guitar”, and “bass line” immediately made sense to me.

In those early days of 2002, with only a single English website that covered a few visual kei bands and only around 3 barebones Japanese language fansites, the only option back then was to pay importers or Japan-based individual eBay/Yahoo Auctions sellers $60+ for CDs albums and small fortunes for official merch. To this day, one of my greatest personal treasures remains that used first-press slipcase edition of GAUZE I spent little over $150 on.

But things also moved quick in those early 2000s when high-speed home internet became widely available, especially after the 2001 shutdown of Napster gave rise to so many alternative P2P clients. It was through Audiogalaxy that I finally managed to piece together their GAUZE album in full and a few of the tracks off of MACABRE, but it was really Soulseek that ended up being the ultimate portal to Japanese music, a P2P network with users serving up a wide array of Jpop and Jrock.

Through the 00s and early 2010s, Dir en grey remained my favorite band despite intense competition from their contemporaries, truly rivaled only by LUNA SEA*—at least up until that adage of “never meet your heroes” proved true and SUGIZO turned out to be a total dick and killed my vibe for Japanese Rock in general, but that’s multiple stories for possibly another time. In turn, I hadn’t bothered to catch a Dir en grey concert since 2011’s AGE QUOD AGIS US Tour.

*Kagrra deserves a special mention here, since they are technically competition for position of personal favorite but at the same time in an unimpeachable class of their own beyond compare.

VULGAR, my favorite Dir en grey album, remains to this day the most excruciating wait for any media release in my life, announced and preordered months in advance of its drop date in 2003. Its release was four years and two more full length albums before their first limited U.S. tour in 2007. When I happened to find out about their limited U.S. tour this year featuring “mode of” shows for both VULGAR and Withering to death, both shows in Los Angeles were already sold out, and the scheduling for them didn’t work with my academics to make it worth trying to score resale tickets. Thankfully the additional VULGAR show in Anaheim on a Friday was announced soon after, and I got my tickets for it the moment they went on sale.

The Show

I arrived at the Anaheim GardenWalk where the venue is located, and was pleasantly surprised by the turnout. Finding the end of the line required walking to almost the entire opposite end of the mall, and the crowd was made up of more youthful fresh faces than grizzled band veterans like myself. I briefly spoke with one girl in line behind me with her boyfriend, so elated at seeing them for the first time after being a fan since 9th grade. I told her the same went for me, only my 9th grade was over 20 years ago.

Upon entering the venue, I immediately went to go scope out the merch offerings. As soon as I spotted the table and saw the hanging shirts on display, on of them featuring the VULGAR album artwork, I knew I had to get one before they sold out. Past me definitely had it easier when I was an XL/L, the M lifestyle is a lot more competitive. By the time I made it to the front of the line, the show had already started and the first couple of songs observed through the TV screens in the lobby.

Once I had my merch purchased and stashed in my mini-backpack, I headed into the performance hall and started looking for a place to post up and watch the show. I lasted another couple songs on the upper edge of the floor level before realizing that standing still and head bobbing wasn’t going to cut it—despite my age, I still felt the urge/need to be jostled about in a sea of people, sweating and screaming my head off. I needed the pit.

So I squeezed myself through the loose groups of people in front of the short set of steps leading down to the floor level, and was very pleasantly surprised by what I found.

The Crowd

In hindsight, the fanbase was one of the things that took the piss out of going to see Dir en grey live. In the early aughts, the band was still largely unknown. They were only a few years into their career in homeland, and Japan’s culture isn’t exactly conducive to the loud rebellious nature of rock music; every Japanese exchange student or foreign visitor I spoke to back then professed to me knowing more about their rock music scene than they did. Here in the United States, the Japanese Rock fanbases was basically a perfect overlap with the anime fanbase. Prior to the exposure they got in 2006 from going on the Family Values tour, I’m pretty sure I was the only person in America that felt so passionately about the music while having absolutely no interest in anime.

What this translated to in person were crowds that were overwhelmingly 5’2”–5’6” Asian and white females with petite builds in their finest gothic lolita duds—and A LOT of whining to “stop pushing” and not being able to see in the mosh pits of rock concerts. Those memories of times past, combined with the current generation’s inclination to stand in place recording on their phones over living the moment, had me going in expecting a disappointing crowd. Instead, it ended up being the best one I’ve been in.

There seemed to be an implicit understanding, a large circle in the middle of the floor reserved for the rowdiest boys, no longer limited to the slim anime club stereotype and now an eclectic mix of true metalheads in American band tees (Metallica, Slayer, Pantera, etc.). The perimeter was maintained by those thrashing in the pit cycling in and out, and other guys with stocky/muscular builds there to get jostled and rocked about (myself included). People outside the edge buffer understood where they were, and would look over in amusement whenever they got knocked forwards or sideways by the pit activity—there were even multiple crowd surfs pulled off. And anytime anyone stumbled or fell, multiple hands would fly out and often beat me to pulling that person back up on their feet.

Before I knew it, I found myself in my traditional spot: dead center and just a few rows of people away from the front of the stage.

The Set

Where my past self would have done some research on Setlist.fm on the prior shows, I went in blind. For a “mode of VULGAR” show, I’d hoped for more of the bespoke album—I would lost my shit over a live rendition of Amber. But in the end, I still got most of the Vulgarity I wanted out of the night: DRAIN AWAY, audience KILLER LOOP, a really amusing CHILD PREY, OBSCURE, Kasumi, and THE IIID EMPIRE. Bonus points with Vinushka and Utafumi also being in the mix.

This perhaps would be my only criticism of the crowd: when the band retook the stage for the encore to G.D.S, there were only about 10 people dispersed about doing the rhythmic fist-pump callback. That performance hall should have been thundering with shouts and a shaking floor. The kids these days are behind on their homework.

The Surprise

After the last song was done, we got the usual sign-off—them graciously parading the stage, emptying water bottles over the crowd and launching picks out into the crowd. I didn’t really care to try to get one, since that’s a very been-there-done-that affair for me. Twice: one I can’t remember, and a Toshiya pick from their 2007 show at the Viejas Arena. At one point, I decided I’d get a last set of photos and try to snap a selfie with the band on the lit stage in the background. I pulled my phone out of my right front pocket, and stared down at the screen to FaceID authenticate. As I was swiping up to unlock, something fell in my hand in the small gap between the phone and base of my thumb. In a split-second, I had the reflexive animal instinct to shake it off like it were a spider and the overriding human curiosity to identify what it was: Die’s guitar pick.

It would have made for an awesome photograph, but since it was impossible to take a photo of the pick as it landed tucked between by phone and hand, I simply quietly pocketed it and watched in amusement as everyone around me frantically searched the floor trying to find it.

The Swag

I came home from the show with the VULGAR shirt I desperately wanted, which was thankfully still available in my size unlike the dual skeleton WtD tees.

Since the other tee wasn’t available, I went ahead and got a tote bag, along with some $15 charm the merch attendant didn’t really do a good job of explaining, only that it had a small probability of having something autographed inside. At $15, I expected the bag to contain an actual charm, something along the lines of the dog tags they had on previous tours. Apparently, they were just a show-specific charm bag containing a paper insert that had a small probability of being “autographed”.

Mine wasn’t one of the autographed ones, but that was of no consequence to me since that’s also a been-there-done-that affair, being the winner/owner of Die’s band-autographed guitar from the 2007 Nokia Theater show given away through a Hot Topic sweepstakes way back when year.

In another timeline, I would have felt ripped off over having forked over $15 for a piece of paper in a miniature bag with no functional purpose. Instead, it’s a perfect store for that serendipitous guitar pick.

For Me

In the end, the concert ended up being a validating spiritual and existential boot to the ass I needed in this current sociopolitical climate. Although I don’t feel as ardent about the band and their music as I once used to, that long running artist-fan bond stretching back to my teenage years remains very much alive and well. It was an opportunity to travel through time and not just catch a variant of the VULGAR-centric shows I never had the chance to go to back in high school upon its release, but to also revisit and embody my younger self once more. I went alone, handled the pit crowd just as capably as my teenage self, and had a fantastic time.

So to answer the question of “WHO IS THIS HELL FOR?”: for me, even after all this time.

His Name is Leonardo Enrique Di Giacomo

His Name is Leonardo Enrique Di Giacomo

In August of last year (2024), I was taken to civil court by my harasser—my downstairs neighbor’s baby daddy—marking the beginning of a painstaking gauntlet that brought to light how flawed and broken the legal “system” is, just how badly we’re living in a post-facts world where truth and objectivity do not matter. How the local court system is as incapable and capricious as the US Supreme Court is compromised and corrupt.

Earlier that year in March, he came to my door trying to force his way into my apartment with the intent to fight me. This was a short while after I’d embarrassed him into leaving the premises, having been altered by dog of unusual activity out front and stepping out on the balcony to find him yelling at and antagonizing my aforementioned neighbor’s sister and roommate, and subsequently yelling at him in broad daylight that nobody that lived in the building wanted him there, that he was trespassing, and to “get the fuck out”.

A few days later, he had flowers delivered with a throwaway apology on the card. Months later, he initiated suit against my neighbor for full time custody. Knowing that I had a police report on file over that behavior and would be a huge liability to him as a legitimate witness, he falsely alleged that I—and my roommate—had been harassing him, on an ongoing basis from March until July, including but not limited to stalking and threats of physical violence. What ensued was a months-long unwanted crash course in legal process. The initial cases were dismissed without prejudice, the Judge at the time noting my cross-petition was a much closer call. Three weeks later, he began passively harassing me again such that it drove me to file a new case against him.

Though at one point I hired legal representation for the short while I could afford it, I ended up largely self-representing, including the arduous research and drafting of formal Motions for Sanctions against my harasser and his attorney. In the process, I learned just how disadvantaged people are when it comes to these matters. All of the legal aid resources and organizations out there focus on low-income and/or marginalized communities, and their scope of services only includes restraining orders in a Family/Domestic Violence context. When it comes to Civil Harassment Restraining Orders, the only guidance available is if you’re the Petitioner—the initiating filing party—and even that is limited only to how to fill out the form to open the case.

In the end, my case was dismissed with prejudice, the judiciary not only failing to uphold the letter and spirit of the law, but also violating my rights to due process and California Code of Judicial Ethics—indeed, one of the Judge’s post-hearing Minute Orders is a complete fabrication of facts and I have the email from my attorney at the time to prove it. CCP § 527.6 stipulates that restraining order hearings should not exceed 21 days, 25 with good cause; my case ended up aged 138 days because of Judicial negligence.

This unfavorable outcome has left me with two remaining points of action:

1. Administrative Follow Up

I have 60 days from the last hearing date of January 29th to initiate the appeals process, which I very much have the desire and intention to do. However, the priority to and demands from my academic workload make me worry about whether it’s something I’ll be able to accommodate, given that it would be started halfway through the semester and potentially run into final exams timeframe. In an ideal world, I’d somehow manage to find some lawyer willing to take on/assist pro bono, but expectations being grounded in reality, I anticipate it’s something more I’m going to have to study and try to pull off myself.

Regardless of whether or not the appeal itself happens, there are other follow up actions to be taken—filing complaints against the Judiciary and opposing counsel.

2. Publication

The entirety of what I endured is a literal case study on how to abuse the legal process as a means of revenge without consequence, and how the California court implicitly condones and encourages this behavior.

Along the way, this man has given plenty of indications that he is recklessly impulsive and does not think things through. I don’t know what he imagined, that he would pull his stunt and that its effect would be confined to the courtroom in this digital age. Throughout all of this, I consistently tempered the desire to speak publicly about it, being a self-representing first time litigant with utmost concern for the validity and security of my case. Now that the argumentation for those matters has been definitively settled, I’m no longer bound to keep things private.

Right now, my academic efforts have priority when it comes to my focus and attention. Though I would love to be able to dedicate myself to writing the narrative, building the supporting website, and preparing the social media optimized posts/videos to communicate my story, it’s nothing that I realistically have the time or bandwidth to handle. Fortunately, unlike the appeal process, this action isn’t bound by time limits.

Still, after carrying this matter for the better part of and almost up to a whole year, enduring the unnecessary anxiety and emotional distress it caused me to have myself, my roommate, and my dog targeted by this man while trying to earn my Associate’s degree, I don’t have it in me to remain completely mum on this matter until that time comes when I’m ready for a full content push.

For now, at the least, I can start by finally giving this stressful and traumatic ordeal a name and a face: Leonardo Enrique Di Giacomo.

Preoccupations

Preoccupations

Time really seems to pass a lot quicker the older I get. I’ve been meaning to push an update, but with everything that’s been going on over the last few weeks, even my private journal hasn’t been seeing much action.

Last month’s points of distresses ended up being a massive time-sink for me. In the end, I followed through with attending San Diego State University and accepting the federal student loan being offered, finally entering the world of student loan debt after having successfully evaded it all this time. When it came to registering for classes, I enrolled in 16 units across 6 different courses. Using the university’s degree audit feature, I noted that my 69 units of transfer credits had me starting the equivalent of my third year at 58% completion towards my Bachelor’s and leaving only 51 required for completion—meaning that at a full-time clip of at least 15 units per semester and some infill during the summer/winter intersessions, I could potentially be done and ready to graduate with a Bachelor’s degree at the end of the Spring 2026 semester.

Getting used to having an academic workload again was a bittersweet transition, glad to have the opportunity to keep advancing my studies while at the same time resentful that my celebratory freedom from homework, exams, and that awful Canvas platform had to end up being so short-lived. It was a very “back in the car” a la *Jurassic Park* feeling.

Screen capture of the car from Jurassic Park at the end of the tree fall scene
Well, I’m back in Canvas again…

It also didn’t help that the first few days of the semester were lost towards preparation for my evidentiary hearing in my Civil Harassment Restraining Order case. That didn’t play out as it should have, with the letter and spirit of the law upheld. Instead, I found myself at the receiving end of even more judicial misconduct and failure to uphold the law. I have follow up actions planned, some of which I’ll be forced to move on fairly soon, but for the moment am dedicating all my care and focus to my studies first. I have a lot of vested interest—personal, financial, and opportunistic—in at least maintaining if not elevating my cumulative GPA and finishing my Bachelor’s degree with a high academic standing.

Beneath all of these short and long term goals is the pressure to self-actualize, and the anxiety of having a timeframe imposed on it. If all goes according to plan and I do complete my Bachelor’s in under two years, I’m under no illusion that it’s going to be a golden ticket to a prosperous happily ever after; even professionals with graduate degrees are having difficulty finding employment. And with everything going on socially and politically, I don’t even have the assurance that the student loans that afforded me this semester will still be around in the ones to follow. All that in mind, I have it in my head that it’s not finishing the degree that’s incumbent upon me, but also optimizing myself for life afterwards.

In these short two years I’m going to have at SDSU, I’m going to want to make the most of the resources available, from simple things like making connections with faculty/students to the more involved effort of venturing on campus to attend networking and career-focused events. Both of these simple actions, like so many other personal plans and projects, require moving past my hermetic state of being. To bring this long era in my life of keeping a reserved low profile and focusing solely on the required work in front of me to its end. To start assembling an online presence, including fleshing out this blog. To start building a real professional network. To polish my personal elevator pitch and overall image.

Feels like a daunting additional set of things to do, given how much my academic workload is taking up the vast majority of my time and I’m admittedly struggling to keep pace with. But it also feels like I’m still only starting, like there’s still so much more I can get out myself. The closer I get to that ideal personal state, the easier and more manageable things should start to feel, until I’m able to once again live in a confident state of flow I remember having in adolescence.

Distresses

It’s hard to believe we’re already almost two weeks into 2025—time’s been flying by, and already bleeding together on account of all perpertual stream of bad news. The state of reality as a whole seems like a sick bizarro joke, a satirical take you would have seen in a 90s or 00s movie and brushed off as far too ridiculous to ever actually happen, yet here we are in a timeline where Idiocracy proved to be depressingly prescient. And just as the National political farce capped off a first-week-of-the-year with a preview of the chaos and farce we’re all slated to endure over the next four years, the current Los Angeles wildfires started.

via Time.com An aerial image shows smoke from wildfires including the Eaton Fire and Palisades Fire in Los Angeles, Calif., on Jan. 8.Patrick T. Fallon—AFP/Getty Images

I’ve known the fear of uncontrollable wildfires for a majority of my life now, having endured the various ones that have occurred over the years since the “first” one in 2008. For as many as San Diego has seen, they’ve pretty much occurred on the county level, never within the limits of the city proper. Yet it’s not lost on me that it’s really only been a matter of fortunate timing—had the current Santa Ana conditions had been in effect back in November of 2024, the fire in the canyons along Fairmount Ave would have potentially turned into a situtation not unlike the one in Los Angeles presently.

Admittedly, I’ve had a hard time with the balancing act of trying to maintain composure and focus on the pressing matters of my personal life, having very familiar sympathy for everyone affected by the fires, and the fear of both the potential aftermath up in LA and the active awareness it could easily happen to San Diego.

In my recent fledgling attempts to start engaging with social media again, I’ve made mention of the ongoing legal issues I’m contending with. This, along with a frantic job search in an extremely competitive and post-holiday slug environment in tandem with a soon-to-start Spring semester that isn’t financially feasible on offered aid alone has really hampered both my private journaling and blogging efforts.

To the former, I’ve been playing it close to the chest the entirety of its duration. Lately, I’ve been feeling the itch to get a head start on opening a can of First Amendment over the situation. But each time, I talk myself out of it due to the nature of the details and the active status of the case. To that end, January 29th can’t come soon enough. As far as everything else goes, it’d be really nice if the flow of time could slow itself down, especially in these last days before the incoming Federal Executive Adminstration. Not only is there the time crunch related to vocational and academic matters, but also the delay in other efforts & projects on the personal front.

Beginning Anew

So many times over the past two decades have I tried to start a personal website. Some with grand statements of intent, others with introspective rumination over how to try to find an online voice in an ever-changing internet landscape that is so vastly different from its original form and rampant with data leaks, content scrapers, and the evolving dangers of AI. And each time, they’ve all ended the same way: abandoned over the need to prioritize other obligations in life and the doubts over self-expressing online; that’s even circumstantially been the case presently.

But as 2025 begins with the expectation of it being a harbinger year of challenges, from the global levels all the way down to the personal, it also comes with a certain confidence to be had from all the lessons learned and ridiculousness endured throughout 2024, from the national stage all the way down to the individual. 

I’ve long joked that I need to find the way to start living life with the unearned confidence of those small breed dogs always willing to scrap way above their weight class. Better and simpler I’m finding it to accept and step into my earned confidence, and committing to leaving the footprint I’ve always wanted to make.

There are already at least three personal essays waiting to be extrapolated from the above, but all in good time; self-patience is an understated key part of operating effectively. 

Hello world!

New hosting plan, new WordPress installation, new attempt. Usually one of the first housekeeping items in a new WP install is to delete the “Hello world!” post along with the Hello Dolly plugin, but something in me is responding to it this time around.

Between finally allocating effort into building a personal website & blog again and the disruptive migrations happening across the social networking environment, it really does feel like a digital clean slate for the masses, an opportunity for many to “start over” in a sense.

And I like to think I will.