There is a lot of chatter about the form.submit() functionality in jQuery on its API page. There’s also some results you’ll find on StackOverflow and the like about the functionality just not working. Two interesting bugs seem to be cropping up here…
1) An input field with name or id of “submit” seems to somehow break the functionality of the submit function.
2) It didn’t work at all for me in IE. I didn’t have any of the problems that were pointed out in the thread there, but nonetheless, it continued to throw an error in IE. Which got me thinking… how do folks debug JS code in IE? I would love a legitimate way to walk through and debug JS code without needing to buy Visual Studio.
Anyway, the solution of finding the submit button and clicking it as opposed to submitting the form fixed it. Final code looks like:
I’m gonna say my piece, and it’s going to piss some people off, but then you can say your piece, and I’ll sit down and shut up and listen.
This game owes you nothing. There’s going to a come a day where the game passes all of us by. It chews us up and spits us out. Which means every time we get to play, every time we step on the field, we have to play as if it’s our last match.
When you come out here, first come with your heart. Bring passion. Bring joy. Bring beauty. Bring an appreciation for the beauty of the game.
Then mentally show up. Get here on time to warm up. During warm ups get in your touches, and work on one thing for each game. Work on your first touch. Work on your headers. Work on shooting to corners or work on wall passes. But mentally commit to being better at one thing after the game compared to before the game.
Finally physically show up. Make the runs you’re supposed to make, and surprise yourself and make some you didn’t think you were strong enough to make. Play defense with intensity. Support your teammates with passion. Ignore the ref. Play the game beautifully, and after these 90 minutes which we have, these 90 minutes where the game is still ours, let’s walk off the field and say to ourselves if today was the last time we ever played the game we did so with heads held high, with pride in our performance and with everything we have left on the field.
We did not do that today, and for that I am ashamed to be associated with this team. This game will never give you anything. We have to go out there and earn every inch. Today we just quit. I promise each and every one of you that this team won’t quit again. If you think that quitting is an option, then don’t come back next week.
A lot is constantly happening, and it comes to be overwhelming at times. I do a really bad job in those instants of stopping and just taking a breath.
Today was one of those days where I just needed to take a breath, and not let the world overwhelm me.
In my ideal world, people do things for the right reasons. They do it right the first time. One takes pride in one’s work. I spent a lot of time working through what I thought was a simple problem last night trying to help someone who I don’t think holds my same beliefs on effort and integrity. And it drove me absolutely insane.
I got pulled off of the cliff, but then dove right into another trap.
This time what got to me was the that it felt as if the theory of doing the right thing was more important to understand than actually doing the right thing. I didn’t do a good job of processing the lack of grounding. I know the value of understanding how to do it is important, but sometimes I just want to do, and see what happens. My problem here is that I’m the perpetrator of  the discussion, and the tangent. I do it to myself. And I need to stop, and just do.
It was all just driving me crazy, and so I stopped and took a breath, and exhaled. Friday night is a good night to get the chance to just hit the pause button on life.
So as for the wedding planning, I have officially finished the music for the wedding.
We’re getting a lovely guitarist for the ceremony. We’ve asked her to play “Somewhere over the Rainbow” as the song to which Micky walks down the aisle. I hope it’s a lively, and upbeat rendition. We really liked the version that was played as the final song on Glee this season. We’re still looking for a recessional, and it’s darn hard to find!
That’s a big weight off of my shoulder though. I was in real deep shit with myself about not doing all of this first of June. I just sometimes don’t get it. I think working on “getting it” is something that life just throws at you, and either you fail epicly, or you stand up to challenge and figure out. Score one for me getting everything together, and knocking it out. Not that I deserve a pat on the back, but I’m giving myself one.
The reception will be DJ-ed. The fellow who owns the company, who I hope is doing the work, sounds like a great guy. What is it about voice that we put so much trust in? Confidence. Asking the right questions. Having answers, and even having answers to questions you didn’t know that you were supposed to ask. Really impressive. Anyway, the big challenge for me was trying to blend Turkish, American and Folk.
You see, we’re getting married in a barn, and I thought introducing folks to good bluegrass would be really amazing. But then what’s the first? How do you do the parent dances? It just doesn’t work. I didn’t want to do the iPod thing, even though I joked about it. And then I wanted the Turkish folks to have something to dance to. And of course dancing to some top 40 hits we grew up with would be fun too. In the end, a DeeJay was the only option.
And so with that done, the next task is fitting into my suit. The goal… size 30″ waist. I’m currently a 34″ waist, and I have really 8 weeks to make the grade. First approach… juice cleanse.
Micky’s friend Heather did a juice cleanse a few months ago, and then again recently, and swears by it if done right. So Micky and I went out and bought a fancy juicer, and got to business. We’ve gone 4 days now of 4 juices, and one solid meal. The next three days will be 6 juices a day, with NO solid meal. When it’s all said and done… I hope I’ve lost 10 pounds, which is about 1 inch of waist size.
It’s been hard to down the vegetable juices, but the fruit juices are quite good. That said, we’re going to need a lot of help to get through the next three days in one piece. The vision of my James Bond suit is keeping me going.
Boncuk gives Melih a kiss before heading to the surgeon's office
This is Boncuk’s last picture. She was put to sleep today because of a large tumor in her brain. She came to me and left me in the exact same manner – Sleeping. In my lap. Without a worry in the world.
In early April, 1999, my dad and I went to the flea market looking for a puppy. The flea market in Raleigh used to house a section for dogs, rabbits ferrets, and whatever else one could own as a pet. We saw a family of Boxer puppies who were gorgeous. My dad wanted to be knowledgeable, and so we went to the local library to do some research. I found a book on dogs and started reading. He walked around a bit so fara s I know, and then asked me what I’d found out.
Nothing.
If you give me a book, then I’ll slam through it. If you take me, or at least the 15-year old me, to a library, then you’ve just dropped a coke addict in the Columbian Jungle. No research done – just knowledge consumption.
Given that failed task, we headed back to the flea market. On arrival, the Boxer pupies were gone. It was a good thing too because in the next stand over were two jack russell terrier puppies, 6-weeks old sleeping in a pen.
I picked up the girl, and fell in love. She fit in the palm of my hand. I couldn’t put her down, and five minutes later we were in the car, heading home, blasting Celine Dion with a sleeping Boncuk in my lap.
My mom named her Boncuk.
A boncuk is a pendent of protection found throughout Turkey with the main element of the design being a set of concentric circles forming an eye. Boncuk’s are also known as “evil eyes”, and protect against “nazar”, or evil intentions. Things like jealousy over a new car, resentment at a new house or animosity towards a new child.
Our Boncuk was so named because her whole body was white except for a single black dot on her lower back.
In life her bark protected us from whoever was at the front door, and in death only God knows what she saved us from.
11 years passes by in the blink of an eyelid, but there are always memories that stand out. When Boncuk was 12 weeks old, we went to Oriental, NC to check out where the Turkish contingency of the Special Olympics would be staying. My girlfriend at the time, Sarah, came with us. We were walking Boncuk on the beach when she stopped in the middle of nowhere and used the bathroom. We didn’t know what to do, and so we buried it in the sand and ran away as fast as possible. On that first beach trip, we couldn’t get Boncuk to come swimming with us, and she never changed her mind about water.
She did however love toys, or at least she loved tearing them apart. I think we all tried to teach her to play and not destroy. She never caught on. She did however love this one bear because it had a squeaker in it. He lasted longer than the others, but eventually found the same fate.
She went to many a soccer tournament, shopping on Fifth Avenue in New York City and spoke at least three different languages.
My french exchange student, Anthony Fachaux, who the ladies loved by the way, tried to teach her tricks. She never caught on.
When Boncuk was Boncuk she had two very distinctive traits
1) She was loud
2) She licked you to death
Garage door opens, and she’s already in the laundry room barking up a storm ready to remind you that she was the first one to realize that you were home.
Sit down on the couch and she jumps up and starts licking you until you pay attention to her. I always tried to remind her that I was supposed to be the boss, but… you guessed it, she never caught on.
I feel as if there isn’t a single major milestone, or memory, in my life where she wasn’t there. She’d announce any occasion that she could in a way that only Boncuk knew how. I even jokingly wished she would be the ring bearer at my wedding so that she wouldn’t miss that milestone.
It’s the strangest feeling to not have to look at the dinner table to make sure she’s not trying to steal any food.
It’s the strangest feeling to put away her leash and bowl because they won’t be used again.
It’s the strangest feeling to to know that I’ll never again be woken up by a lick to the face from Boncuk.
When I went to say goodbye, they brought her out on a towel and put her in my lap. In that instant, that single instant, I relived 11 years of my life and realized just how empty they would have been without her in them. I held her to the very end because I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone.
And so she left me just as she found me – Sleeping. In my lap. Without a worry in the world.
Boncuk, if you’re out there, just know that I love you so much, and I miss you even more. Canim, fistikcim, good-bye.
There is now less than 100 days to go until the wedding.
It would be the understatement of the century to say that I’m not excited. I think that the best part is continuously finding more reasons why it just feels right. We’ve had so many moments in the last few weeks where I stop and realize just how lucky I am. It’s really fantastic…
In trying to dot the last I’s and cross the last T’s, we took a field trip to Asheville over the 4th of July weekend. We were in NC for my mom’s birthday. For her birthday, we built her cookbook a new website. Saturday after her birthday we headed to Charlotte to hang out with the Winslett family, and got some excellent barbeque.
I can’t ever get enough sweet tea when I come to North Carolina, and I pretty much had an IV attached to my arm with the sugary goodness flowing into my veins.
The Winsletts have a phenomenal home right outside downtown Charlotte, and it gave Micky insane home ownership envy. It’s kind of fascinating to see my friends buying their first homes. My gut still tells me that home ownership is overrated, but maybe I should talk to an accountant before I make that decision. I love the idea of having a yard though. It takes me back to being in elementary school, and having a tiny corner of our backyard. Crucial though is having enough space in the house that everyone can have their own space when it’s called for.
We got up Sunday, and headed to Asheville. Less than 100 days to go until the wedding, and we wanted to learn a bit more about the town in which we’re getting married. Invitations need to be printed, and sent, but we want to know where to convince people to go, stay, hang out and the like. We checked out the Biltmore Estate, which is AMAZING. We walked around town, and got to see all of the restaurants and bars in downtown. We finally ate at Tupello Honey Cafe, and we loved it. Photos to come still.
I don’t quite understand the need to maintain a friendship at the expense of one’s sanity. Don’t work at friendships. They either exist or they don’t. It’s a very black or white situation. Take them for what they are, and not what you want them to be. Having said that, I think I may be in the extreme minority with this opinion.
I’m not quite sure why that is.
Take for example the fact that Dudum and I went to the baseball game last night, and had 3 separate conversations composed of facial expressions, eye signals and fragments of sentences. And yet, there was no question in my mind that the two of us completely understood one another. It was phenomenal.
Or, as another example, how we have a group at work who make fun of each other with a real zest for finding a solid zinger. There’s no malice. There are few hurt feelings, and when feelings get hurt the right actions are taken. The hurt individual runs away to the library, while the hurting individual apologizes a few days later. It’s only possible though because there’s an appreciation for the opposite party and what they bring to the table, both good and bad. You have to respect someone to be able to laugh at who they are without meaning to hurt them, and simultaneously have them realize that your jest comes from a place of mutual respect.
So why is it then that people work so hard to maintain friendships that are fictional in entirety or belong to a different time in our lives? The friendship lacks connection, mutual respect or even basic decency. It’s a lot easier to just be honest.
The culprit here is twofold.
One, the past has an incredible hold on us. We feel as if our past owes us the decency of shaping our future. In no way does that take into account how in the present we may have changed who we are.
Two, interpersonal inertia. People build groups, and within the group come the dynamics of the best friend, the social butterfly, the one who makes us laugh, the drama queen/king, and so on. To be honest is to break this inertia. Because we owe the others the peace and calm of a steady state we are unable to push the rock down the mountain face lest we be deemed selfish or self-serving.
And so we torment ourselves, and convince ourselves that the truth is that somehow, someway this friendship will return to what it was even though we are now who we have become.
This week’s lesson: honesty in friendships is to lie.
