Sunday, March 4, 2018


Good morning! Here we are comfortably on the other side of the holidays and I’ve still yet to post. I’ve sort of been holding my breath and I’m not exactly sure why.  I suppose it’s the old diet/still fat theory.  Do you know what I mean? You have a friend who makes these incredible proclamations about the diet they are starting, all the rules of the diet, how difficult their workouts are, etc…and yet frankly the friend stays fat despite their dozens of facebook (or in my case, blog) posts about the diet.  One learns the hard way you ought not to tell people you’ve lost weight, rather let them notice.  Well don’t worry cause I’ve gained ten pounds so this is not about one of my many weight loss journeys. I guess it’s more about keeping the shutters closed because the house is kind of a mess. 

When I posted in July about my plans to start a business in real estate, I honestly believed I would have it wrapped up and finished by the end of the year.  Well, it’s March and I’m still not entirely finished.  It’s been a long time since I have been in any sort of school and it requires a completely different type of discipline than to get up and go to work.  I think depending on all of our personalities, one tends to be easier than the other.  Of course there have been days in my life where I have felt loath to get out of bed and go to work.  But for me, it’s an easy switch to flip and the second I am out of bed, I sail through to the end of the day.  School is a little different.  Ohio allows real estate course work to be done online and South Carolina requires it be in a classroom with a teacher.  Thank god SC has this stipulation because if not I would have done both online and probably pulled my voluminous hair out in the process.  After finishing the Ohio coursework a few months ago, I closed my laptop and literally put it in a closet.  I was not sure I could ever look at a computer again.  No, deskwork is not for me.  That and my penchant for falling down rabbit holes.  I have a ridiculously strong memory (I think I recently creeped out a client because I remembered her grandma’s birthday she had mentioned like three years ago).  But there is no memory without understanding, so many of these things—especially real estate law—I chew on and read more and more until I can connect the dots.  Obviously this is worth the time, but it makes a slow and thorough Taurus even slower. 
I’m sure some of you are like okay that’s nice Stephen but what the fuck are you saying? I guess I’m saying I’ve been a bit reluctant to say anything until it’s all done, but at this point it’s pooling at the dam and stopping me from writing about other things, and I miss writing! But I’m going to try and ease back into the habit.  I’m sure it seems I have forgone my blog for Instagram, and while that has been technically true, it’s not.  Frankly, I hate Instagram just like I did before.  Don’t get me wrong, there are elements I love, but the system as a whole makes me insane.  Why do we reward talentless people?! And I’m not talking Kardashian talentless, I’m talking actually tal-ent-less.  Guess what, bitch, recycling the same fucking 300 pinterest photos we’ve all fucking seen ten thousand times because some of us actually paid for the fucking magazine ten fucking years ago does not make you a tastemaker.  I love how snobbish some of them are about it, too.  Saying things like “Now, THIS is elegance”. Like, no you dumbass it’s a fucking magazine and no one can see each other with 39 taxidermy ostriches between them. Then once a year they’ll post something they actually did themselves and you get a dark ass closely cropped shitty photo of a plate of food resembling vomit on dishwasher safe plate.  Ummm? Where’s the priceless china you’re posting seventeen times a day with “inspiration…”? Whoops, my teeth came out.  How about this, please tag me with your favorite real accounts.  I love Instagram for its connecting of passionate people, if there’s an account of a real person sharing their real passion in just about any arena, I’m interested.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any trouble finding inspiration… when I need it. 
So, here I am on a glorious Sunday morning in Hilton Head.  I have been here a week and am here for two, maybe three more, getting my South Carolina education.  I am so glad to have a teacher and classmates, even if it is hard for me to sit still for eight hours a day.  That washes off quickly when one can start and end his day at the beach.  The plan still stands and I’m more excited about it the deeper I get.  It’s a great feeling to know you are a natural fit for a new endeavor.  Even if you’re getting there at ocean liner speed rather than Concord.  There’s a lot to see and learn along the way.  So what have you been working on?  Am I the only one moving a little slower than expected? I hope not.  I’m having an issue with comments on Blogger, so I might respond with an anonymous account just called SAJ rather than my official Blogger account.  I don’t like to do this because anyone can comment under a blank account called SAJ but hopefully you’ll know if it’s me or not. 
So, all that to get to my photos which pushed me to post.  Have you ever been to Beaufort? It is the most beautiful little town completely ensconced by glimmering marsh, river, and sea.  The trees are colossal, the Spanish moss tends to hang even lower and more luxuriously languid, the houses are old and just take your breath away when you turn a corner and feel you’ve discovered another Most Beautiful House.  One of my friends from class lives there and said that when she went to the showing for the house she ended up buying, she just cried because she couldn’t believe she could live somewhere so beautiful.  Yesterday I explored Beaufort again with Barbie bopping along at my side.  The sun was bleachingly bright, the air was so fresh off the water, and the strong breeze sang through the Spanish moss in a muffled chorus.  A spectacularly gorgeous morning. 

Palmetto and American Redbud in bloom! What could be a better representation of the subtropical, deciduous magic of the

Every street ends with a similar view.