more old blogs from myspace 3

• state of the union, among other things

  what a load of crap.
  
  I am glad I spent my time wisely tonight and watched the state of the union address. I am glad because I need to open my mind up and take all the information I can into account before I go out and speak to children. There is so much more I can do than just speak to them about how to protect themselves from sexual violence. I can speak to them about how to protect themselves from being taking advantage of by their own government, and the beauty is, it's all the same principle as protecting themselves from rape.
  
  Listen to your gut feeling. Be aware of your surroundings. Surround yourself with good people you can trust and who respect you. Educate yourself about the world around you. These are going to be my platforms when I run for office.
  
  and yes, I am going to run for office. I just need to figure out where to start. I can bullshit with the best of them and I think it's time somebody stepped up and actually ran for office without any type of agenda except making the country a better place.
  
  Donations are gladly accepted. Just write me a check.
  
  
  

  8:27 PM

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• Jan 27, 2008

  0+2=1

  So I'm missing this particular Nomeansno record. I don't know what happened to it. I think someone may have stolen it from me. I'm pretty sure I had it at the last house we lived in. I need to have it again, though...whatever it takes...if anyone has it..please burn a copy for me.
  
  Why do I buy DVDs? I don't usually watch them. Teresa accidentally peed on one the other day while I was changing her, but luckily, it hadn't been opened yet, so only the plastic wrap got peed on. Do I think I must have it in case I really want to watch it some day? I'm getting better about this, though, as I've watched a few DVDs lately without being prompted by anyone else, i.e., the wife, to do so. Teresa and I enjoyed Ratatouille (the film, not the dish) very much one day this last week.
  
  The phone is ringing.
  It is raining outside.
  Sometimes real life is poetry
  and sometimes real life is not.
  
  The Suns won today. I slept through most of the game. The Liam and I took a nap on the couch.
  
  It's time for lunch but I don't know what I want. Maybe I'll skip lunch and just have a big dinner. Maybe I won't do either.
  
  I'm hungry but I'm not
  because I don't know what I want.
  Sometimes real life is poetry
  and sometimes real life is not.
  
  Tomorrow I go back to work and I'm going to try out some new stuff on the kiddies. I'm not sure exactly what, but I'll figure it out. I've got some things cooking for them.
  
  Work, he screamed, he cried,
  he got so bored he wished he died.
  Sometimes real life is poetry
  and sometimes real life is not.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  2:39 PM

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• Jan 26, 2008

  words of the day

  feeling better, finally....
  
  had some fun tonight farting on Hayden.
  
  Ryan stopped by...gave him a sports jacket.
  
  Teresa was cute today. Gave me three kisses. That's more than the average week, so I was doing good.
  
  Liam is getting a tooth....he wants to stand up so bad.
  
  What else...hmmn...I know there was something....
  
  Cable, phone, and internet went out for about 6 hours. It is amazing I survived. I played some risk while the wife and kids were doing their thing. I should have been writing.
  
  woulda coulda shoulda....stop shoulding all over this page.
  
  gonna go watch the jones v. trinidad fight now.
  

  11:23 PM

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• Jan 25, 2008

  sounds like a good time..

  I'm super happy for my friends the Levey's...they are taking SHoD international this year. That is awesome.
  
  I am bummed about the last Suns game I watched. I hope tonight's game is better.
  
  I don't think my cousin Linda understands what a festive dude I was as a youngster. I may have been a lightweight the first few times I drank alcohol, but isn't everyone? And, for the record, I did perform many magic tricks, like making the alcohol reappear later in the evening after consuming mass quantities (conehead appreciation) when I was younger (and even older a few times), but I don't know if I would really consider myself a lightweight. I may be back on the road to being a light weight, though. I just don't seem to have the urge to really pound the alcohol anymore. I have lots of good puking stories, though, and I'll share a few more as time goes on.
  
  I watched High Fidelity last night and I had forgotten how much I liked that movie. John Cusack plays a dude in it, if you haven't seen it, that is someone I would have liked to have hung out with back in my record snob days. I know realize that I didn't know shit about music and know even less now, but I'm okay with it. I knew what I knew and I thought I knew better than you.
  
  I'm back to feeling sick again. I was just telling my lovely wife how I haven't had a single day of feeling well since we got back from San Francisco. I'm sick of being sick. What the fuck????
  
  Tonight is either movie night or game night at the old hacienda. I can't decide if I really want to kick the shit out of the kids in Monopoly or if I'll take the old Thos Vince approach and play to win at first, then be the helpful guy if it doesn't seem like I'm going to win. My grandfather was really fun to play games with when I was a kid. He wouldn't let you win. When I got older, though, he would help out my cousin Sage a bit when we would play Monopoly. I miss him. I wish he could be here tonight to have a game with us.
  
  I need to get feeling better so I can find some time to go skateboarding and also play some golf. I think exercise would definitely be a step in the right direction.
  
  I need to get excited about something that is good for me....although this blogging thing has been pretty good so far.
  
  
  

  11:11 AM

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• Jan 24, 2008

  hisses and whispers

  he walks into the room and shuts the door behind him
  "lock it" hisses his inner voice
  he wonders why
  "lock it" hisses his inner voice, this time a bit more frantic
  he wonders why again and why does this voice find him over and over?
  "lock it" and this time there is a hint of worry in the inner voice
  the gut feeling, if you will, and he,
  and he reaches back and locks the door.
  who or what am I locking out, he wonders
  or what am I locking in?
  
  this goes on from time to time
  the locking and the wondering
  the inner voice so filled with fear and rage
  he tries to ignore it sometimes
  but it does belong to him
  it is him, isn't it?
  
  sometimes the bathroom seems the safest place
  and the lock is always there
  free of shame
  because everyone locks the bathroom door, don't they?
  the voice almost never has to remind him to be careful
  but there is, sometimes, the tub to look at
  
  Why the tub?
  what's wrong with the tub?
  he avoids the tub at all costs and almost never takes a bath
  the shower is much, much safer
  and seems like a time to almost celebrate
  the inner voice
  the calm inner voice, the one that rarely hisses
  
  he claims to have outgrown the tub
  his legs too long
  the comfort gone and the water can never cover all of him
  but his inner voice whispers
  "that's not really why.... you know why"
  and it hisses more than whispers
  
  it hisses more than whispers
  though he can't quite put his finger on the reason
  he can't quite remember
  but there's something there
  lurking there....
  cold, white, and the red hair....
  always the red hair.
  
  it hisses more than whispers
  but it's too faint to share
  it hisses more than whispers
  
  welcome to its lair.
  
  

  7:16 AM

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• Jan 23, 2008

  more thoughts...current ones

  Why is all this stuff coming out of me now? Why am I choosing to do this on myspace where 400 or so people can read about my funny moments, deep insecurities, and the details of my hazy memoires? I think I'm purging all of this as a way of getting used to writing. I've always wanted to write. I've been told, over and over again throughout my life that I had some talent for it, but since I've never taken much stock in what other's have said about me and my alleged talents, I put writing up there on the shelf with all those other things that I want to do, but don't.
  
  I also think I'm purging this stuff because I'm getting ready to move on to the next stage of my life. I've been carrying around all this crap for years and years (and I know, I know, it's not really crap, but it's not exactly useful, either) and it's time to shed some skin. Snakes probably have a lot on us humans when it comes to shedding their skin. How awesome is that? Y'all wouldn't believe the collection of crap I have from years gone by. I have letters and ticket stubs and other useless items stored here and there that I've always been reluctant to let go of. Why? I can't go back and relieve the shit I did before. I'm not sure that I would even want to....and when I've tried, it hasn't turned out so well. Why do I carry this stuff around. What is it to prove? Maybe I need to prove to everyone who is important to me that yes, you mattered, and when I'm dead, you'll all have a good cry over the inane crap I kept to remember you by. You will be amazed that I kept your letters and I maintained my relationship with you, whether you knew it or not.
  
  What I'm coming to realize is that it's all locked up in my head, in one way or the other. Writing about it unlocks stuff I hadn't thought about, even details I never would have thought to remember, and if I write about it, it's just as good as having the ticket stub to prove I went to that Billy Idol/The Cult show in 1987. The one where Tree likes to remind me she slipped and fell during our ice fight. The one where we took my mom's Mercedes and Ben and I picked up these junior high girls at Jack in the Box or somewhere and gave them a ride home. I can't remember where we were after than concert, but I know I was relieved as hell to get those girls out of the car. Damn Benjamin and his JH chicks.
  
  I don't know, I really don't, but there is a reason for all this writing and I'm not going to stop. I think I truly am going to shed some skin.
  
  ******
  
  My main recollections of that particular concert, by the way, is that we were all super stoked to see the Cult. Love had come out the year before and it was an amazing record. Bill Goethe, I think, turned me on the Cult, which I will always be grateful for. I still have the gatefold vinyl of that record, which I think Beth bought for me as a present. I'm not too sure about that, but she'll probably take credit for it, anyway. The Cult were pretty huge to our little band of friends back then. I can't exactly remember what month of the year it was, but I'm guessing it was in May. Does that sound right to anyone? I didn't start driving until the spring that year. I guess my mom took pity on me once I joined the army.
  
  The Cult did not disappoint, either. We got as close to the stage as we could. I think I was with Ben, and Bill, and a few others at this point. They were up there, all attitude and hair spiked here and there. The songs were just so huge compared to a lot of other bands at that time. It was rock and roll to the hilt. There was not a song played that night I didn't know the words to or didn't like. Our eyes were glued to the stage and we were riveted for 35 minutes or so (I'm guessing Billy Idol wouldn't have given them too much more time than that since they were kicking his ass). When they were done, we probably should have left, but instead, we ventured up to the top of the coliseum and smoked some pot. You could still get away with that back then...even in the Mecham years. I'm guessing Mark was with us too....now that I think of sneaking off to get high.
  
  
  

  3:17 PM

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• Jan 23, 2008

  so the San Diego trip in 1982

  We got a beach house right on Mission Boulevard. It was a two story job and it was literally a 3 minute walk to Red Hot City and their wonderful chili dogs. I was in heaven. 3 minutes to the ocean, 3 minutes to chili dogs, and my two best friends were also in town at the same time. We went to grocery store when we got there to get some supplies and somehow I convinced my mom to get me a six pack of Moosehead beer. I'd heard some of the other 8th graders talking about how good Moosehead was, so I figured I should probably try it. The Matt's were pretty impressed that I got the beer, so I felt pretty good about myself. The first one didn't go down so smooth. I was not a big fan of beer for another couple of years or so.
  
  A few nights into our stay, Earl, my mom's fiance, had to go back to Phoenix for the night for business. My mom said Matt and Matt could stay over and she'd give us the top floor to have our fun in. Mom went to bed and we decided to play quarters with the remaining Mooseheads. Needless to say, we also got ourselves a bunch of chili dogs to snack on. I was probably not the best quarters player ever at this point in my life. It was my first time and both of the Matt's seemed to grasp the game much more quickly than I did. I remember finishing off the Mooseheads and wondering what to do. I had a pretty good buzz going on and I was enjoying myself.
  
  Matt Knowles was one of those guys that matured pretty quickly. He was the first in our little group to have a girlfriend, get laid, have a deep voice, shave, etc. He also was able to pass for a much older person. The drinking age in California in 1982 was 19. We decided Matt K. should go and try to buy some more beer. He was successful. He came back to the beachhouse with a 12 pack of Miller. Now, Miller has always been a weak spot for me in the beer world. Miller High Life and Miller Genuine draft have been responsible for some of my worst puking moments. The night in San Diego was just the first of many. The quarters continued and I eventually had enough. I barely remember staggering over to the bed I had made for myself out of the couch cushions and some designer sheets we had brought from Earl's house.
  
  I ended up puking up Moosehead, Miller, and chili dogs all over the sheets as I lay passed out on my stomach. The Matt's kind of freaked out. They got me cleaned up and decided they better ditch the sheets and the beer cans in the garbage before they slunk back to Matt P's beach house to avoid the trouble. My mom heard none of this, so she was pretty shocked to find me alone the next morning past out on the couch looking green. I was so sick. I spent two days in bed with my first hangover. I'm sure I had acute alcohol poisoning. My mom thought it was all pretty humorous until the sheets were found to be missing. Apparently the boys threw away an $80 set of sheets. I still remember the stains on them from the chili dog puke. I'm sure Earl made sure they were on the bed every time I spent the weekend at their house.
  
  I didn't touch Moosehead for a long, long time.
  
  
  

  11:53 AM

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• Jan 23, 2008

  thoughts on Heath Ledger

  He was a fine actor and I'm personally bummed that I won't get to enjoy any future performances of his after the new Batman comes out. I was reading the Azpunk message board and while I wasn't surprised by the responses I read, I am continually mystified by how quick people are to pile on to anyone else's misery.
  
  I am sad for the people Heath Ledger left behind. The ones who loved him, knew him, and respected his work. I'm not particularly sad for him, as it must have been his time to go, and he led a life most people can only dream of. Celebrity deaths are news, but like someone pointed out on Azpunk, it's amazing that the people in this country want to focus on Mr. Ledger dying and not the real issues at hand. I think this is a big part of the problem in the United States. Not enough of us are willing to go out there and do something about things we get tired of bitching about. After awhile, there seems to be nothing we can do about the real problems, so we focus on the ones of make believe. Only this day, it's not make believe for the family, friends, and fans of Heath Ledger. I hope they all find peace in their hearts for him.
  
  and I hope we wake up as a nation so we don't die in our sleep like he did. Especially a sleep we forced upon ourselves.
  
  
  ****
  
  Is it obvious I've been reading the paper this morning? There is only so much sesame street one can watch.
  
  
  
  

  10:17 AM

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• Jan 23, 2008

  The continuation of Claire making me think

  As I washed baby bottles this morning, I really thought about where my story from yesterday was going. I ended it by saying that the opinions of the teachers and administration at my grade school about who was popular and who was not led me to drugs and alcohol. This is not entirely true. The availability of drugs and alcohol when I was growing up led me to drugs and alcohol. Seeing the people I looked up to as a young child use drugs and alcohol led me to drugs and alcohol. Opportunity, anger, and curiousity led me to drugs and alcohol, but that is another blog completely.
  
  The California trip was a definite learning experience for me. At this point, I had never really traveled with friends before. Sure, I had run into my classmates while on vacation the previous couple of summers in Mission Beach, but I had never been away from home with my friends before. The busride to Disneyland was incredibly fun, if I remember correctly. I don't think I slept very much. I won quite a bit of money playing poker on the bus. I'm sure there were some very bummed out kids on the trip that weekend. I won about 40 bucks and change, and I know my friend Matt won about 80 bucks. Disneyland was a blast with so much extra money to spend. I had no budget for one of the only times in my youth, and no parent counseling me on how to spend my dough. I also remember being really happy about walking around Disneyland with my friends. This would not be the first of such trips, but again, that is for another blog.
  
  When we got San Diego, we checked into the hotel and some of us ventured out to get some Chili dogs from Red Hot City, which was right next door to the Catamaran. Those were the best damn chili dogs ever, especially when we had to sneak off to get them. As I am now realizing, the supervision on this particular trip was probably pretty lax. We were all basically good kids. I was still pretty shy around the girls, so when some of them snuck into my room that night (which I was sharing with about 5 other guys), I pretended I was sleeping as I hid under the covers. I did fall asleep pretty fast as I hadn't slept in about 36 hours, but I missed out on seeing my first pair of breasts in person. One of the 8th grade girls was pretty adventurous that night...or at least that's what I heard about the entire next day.
  
  Sea World is kind of a blur, but I distinctly remember that my friend Matt lost his wallet somewhere between the dolphin show and Shamu. He was freaking out about losing the 80 bucks and my telling him that I had plenty of money for both of us didn't do any good. I also remember having a lot of fun in Captain Kid's world. The ride home was not as fun as the ride out and I think we had some sort of box dinner in Yuma.
  
  This sort of started the summer of 82 for me. A weird, long summer that was a sad one. My grandparents decided to move to Colorade Springs so that they could be closer to my cousin Sage and his mom, Patti. This was very hard for me as I was used to seeing them all the time. After school got out, though, I didn't have as many reasons to drive into central Phoenix with my dad in the mornings, so it kind of made sense for the GP's to leave when they did. I felt pretty isolated out in Deer Valley. I made one friend in the neighborhood, but we had almost nothing in common except basketball. I watched a lot of Cubs games on cable that summer and also watched my Dad fall in love with the woman who would soon be my step-mother.
  
  I liked Lori at first. She seemed to be a breathe of fresh air for my Dad. She was smart and funny and seemed to enjoy the time that the three of spent together. My Dad seemed really happy for the first time in a long time, so I think I was pretty okay with their relationship moving forward in the manner it did. I had to start a new school in August, so I had that looming over my head, anyway. I was pretty intimidated by the whole idea of going to such a big school. Luckily I had a week in San Diego to look forward to with my mom and her then fiance, Earl, before school started. My two Matt buddies were also going to be there for the same week, so we were all looking forward to having some fun in the sun. It would sort of be the last time the three of us really hung out together.
  
  to be continued.....
  
  
  

  9:03 AM

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• Jan 22, 2008

  Claire made me think....

  The teenage years were not all fun and games. From 13 to 19 was a stretch of my life that, if I were keeping score, I would probably say had more bad days than good ones. I'm not saying that to make anyone feel sad or sorry, but when Claire talked about being a loner, I could certainly identify with her feeling because I spent much of my teenage years feeling pretty seperate from most of the people who I considered to be the closest to me. I was very lucky to have a lot of really great friends, but we tended to temper our fun with alcohol and drugs, which in retrospect, does not make for the truest or purest of relationships. It was only over lots and lots of time that some of us actually became as close as we are now. We had to put away the toys that distracted us and get beyond the hurt that led us to the drugs and alcohol in the first place.
  
  I'm certain that many folks who were my friends never really knew me. They knew a version of me, yes, and part of me, but they didn't really know me. I was pretty protective of myself as a teenager. At 13, for example, I moved across town to a new school where I didn't know anyone. I could start over, yes, but I was not mature enough to realize it, nor was a secure enough in myself to grasp the opportunity I had to truly be myself. I doubt many people are, at that age, but it is still something you wonder about.
  
  I turned 13 in 1982. I was in 8th grade at Madison Meadows Elementary school and I had a group of friends that I hung around with quite a bit. My two best friends were Matt Patton and Matt Knowles, each of whom were brilliant in their own different ways. Matt Patton and I were pretty inseperable back then, but we also fought like brothers. He came from a pretty well off family, had a nice house just off Central and Glendale, and from the beginning of our friendship, I felt very insecure about where I came from. I was ashamed that my father and I lived in an apartment and I remember telling Matt and his mom that we lived in this hugely expensive house that overlooked where we actually lived. The first few times they dropped me off, I would pretend to walk up this very steep driveway until they were gone. I'm sure I was fooling no one, and Matt was a good friend to me when the truth really did come out, but it was something that has bothered me for a long time. Matt didn't care where I lived or what we had in our bank account, but I didn't realize this at the time, so I hid a part of myself away from my best friend.
  
  With Matt Knowles, I could be more of myself. He and I were from similar backgrounds, parents divorced, and neither of us came from any money. We were all part of the same group, but with Knowles, I didn't have to make up any stories about where I lived or what I had. We had some good times during 8th grade. We used to terrorize the neighborhood between Northern and Bethany, from 12th street to 3rd Ave. There were many orange throwing wars in the remaining groves along Central, as well as plenty of bottle rockets launched into traffic. I remember going to my first real party where their were kids making out and such. I was not ready for doing much except pissing girls off, so I didn't understand why my buddies were so fascinated with hanging out with the girls. I got bored pretty easily with the whole social thing back then. I guess I always thought nobody really understood what I was trying to talk about and I never understood why they were so fascinated with things that made no sense to me.
  
  In the middle of my 8th grade year, my dad bought a house on 47th ave between Bell and Union Hills. I was not super excited about this, as I knew I would eventually be leaving my friends. It was also pretty far away from where my grandparents lived. I was really close to my grandparents, even though things had been really strange with them for the preceding couple of years. In 1981, my uncle Allen, who lived with my grandparents off and on all my life, drowned in the canal. He was an alcoholic and he very may well have been dead before he hit the water that day or night he died. He had a blood alcohol level of .47, or so the coroner told my mother. My grandmother, or granny as I call her, took it really, really hard. She changed quite a bit and got rather mean for quite a long time. I saw several really horrible fights between my grandparents after Allen died, and between my mom, aunt, and grandparents. My cousin Ben and I really took an emotional beating there for awhile at the hands of our grandmother.
  
  So I was kind of distant from them, but I still was used to seeing them everyday. I would go to their house after school after we moved and wait for my dad to pick me up for the drive to Deer Valley. I commuted to and from school for the last semester of my 8th grade year so that I could graduate with my friends and play one last season of little league in the league I grew up in. Baseball was pretty important to me back then. I was an avid fan, even if the guys I hung around with were not really into it. Sports in general were a lifelong fascination for me. My grandfather, father, and myself would go to Suns games quite a bit when I was younger. In the summer, I played baseball, and in the winter I played basketball and/or soccer. My friend Matt Patton and I spent many hours shooting hoops. He could hit shots from anywhere and often kicked my ass in horse.
  
  Just before graduation from 8th grade, I got to go on the 8th grade California trip which consisted of driving across the desert all night, then hitting Disneyland all day, then driving to San Diego, staying at the Catamaran Hotel on Mission Beach, going to Sea World the next day and bussing home after Sea World. It was a blast. I signed up for the bus all my buddies were on well ahead of time, but distinctly remember being asked to switch busses. I guess I was on the bus where all the "popular" kids were and the ones who waited to long to sign up were pitching a fit. The principal and other chaperones thought I might be more comfortable on the less popular bus, apparently, and asked my dad to talk to me about switching. I said no way....
  
  there is a baby crying, so I must stop for now.
  
  and, yes, I've never forgotten that I wasn't considered to be a popular kid by the staff at my school. No wonder I turned to drugs and alcohol in high school.
  
  
  

  12:22 PM

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• Jan 21, 2008

  more reflection

  it's funny, but after I finished the preceding opus, it occurred to me that the most interesting thing about looking back at that time is how much I've changed as a person in almost 20 years. The boy I was then is just a small part of the man I am now. At that point in my life, I had not learned very much. I was still more in to the idea of avoiding anything that required work and absolute honesty than I should have been. I sold myself short way too often and lost out on countless opportunities because I was unwilling to grow up. Those months were six months out of my life, and in some ways, fairly inconsequential, but there were things I definitely should have learned about myself that I chose to ignore.
  
  There are several other memories from that time that always stick out....
  I will probably share a few more of them before this is through.
  
  I'm very happy to point out that just about everyone who was a roommate of mine is still a good friend of mine and just about everyone else who could have qualified to at least pay a portion of our rent is still in the picture. There are a few people who have faded away or, sadly, died since then, but not many. The ever volatile Suzy Q accidentally overdosed a few years back in Las Vegas. Her death could have probably been avoided, much like my situation with the tequila in '88, but her friends did not have the sense to save her life like mine did.
  
  I was, in 1988, gearing up for the most prolific partying, self-destruction, and time wasting portion of my life. I was still, for the most part, pretty innocent. I hadn't figured out just how destructive drugs and alcohol could be just yet, but I would soon find out. We, my little group of friends and I, were pretty much still in the having fun phase of our partying lives. There had been a few dalliances with the powders and such, but for me, I either couldn't afford the expensive drugs or I didn't really like what they did to me. I watched a few people start spiraling out of control in 88. I almost lost a few of the people closest to me to different dramas and addictions. We survived, though, and lived to fight another day.
  
  I will end this with a funny story from a night in '88. A few of us from Phoenix College decided to go to a party we'd heard about in Scottsdale. Tim Coy, Dave Ahr, myself, Guy (last name forgotten), and Ron. I think there may have been others along for the ride, but I can't remember now. Anyhow, we went to this party and didn't really know anyone other than a few other PC types. Ron and some random dude were kind of giving each other the stink eye and Ron kept trying to get the rest of us involved. Finally we were fed up with it, so we told Ron to shit or get off the pot. If he was going to fight this dude, he should get it done. I should also point out that we were all pretty drunk. Ron then managed to get himself beaten pretty soundly and we were politely asked to leave the party. As we were walking back to Guy's jeep, Ron is talking more and more shit, so because we were his friends, we encouraged him to go back and finish the fight properly, even though we knew he would just get his ass kicked even worse. We were not the best friends Ron ever had, I'm guessing. Anyhow, Ron ended up getting pretty well destroyed the second time and was either bruised, swollen, or bleeding from just about every point on his face and head. We went back to my apartment and got Ron drunk enough to forget the pain. Later that evening, he puked and shit all over Jeff's bathroom, then rolled around in it. I think Tree had to clean it up, as we were all laughing too hard and too drunk to be much help.
  
  Ahh the camaraderie of those times. I think Ron eventually became a Phoenix Police officer.
  

  10:12 AM

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• Jan 21, 2008

  Robin made me think...

  To really begin this story properly, it would be necessary to talk about how we got to tthe Clarendon apartment in the first place, which would mean telling the story of the polka dot pad, and many other adventures prior to the polka dot pad. I'm going to borrow a bit from my good pal George Lucas and start with episode 4. If I make enough money from episode 4, 5, and 6, I will go back a do 1, 2, and 3.
  
  July 15, 1988. Jeff and I get the keys to our apartment on Clarendon. It was almost on the corner of 27th street, just a few doors to the east. The door faced south, and for the life of me, I can't remember the exact apartment number. Besides, if I did, I may be opening myself up for several potential law suits. Anyhow, we had been without a place to live for a couple of weeks after the end of the polka dot pad. I couched surfed for that time, mostly at the Stewart guest house, since Tommy S. was usually staying at his girlfriends house. I was also dating Jennifer and I think her parents were away for a night or two. I also took advantage of another situation where my friend Emily was housesitting for a former nazi, now living in Phoenix as an ill-mannered vintage clothier.
  
  Anyway, we got our acts together and found a decent little two bedroom in the neighborhood we wanted to live in. It was close to many of our friends, we could afford it, and the two of us were really happy to have a two bedroom apartment all to ourselves. We weren't going to have a phone just yet, as we couldn't afford it. I also think both of us owed the phone company some money at that point, but we didn't really need a phone. There was a pay phone in the laundry room of the apartments, which overlooked a very luxurious pool. (side note: there may be a bit of embellishment on my part during this story. It was, as you may know, almost twenty years ago)
  
  Did I mention that Jeff and I were looking forward to having the place to ourselves? We had come out of a situation at the polka dot pad where, near the end, there were often 6 to 10 people sleeping at our home. I lived on the couch there, so I was super happy about being able to take my waterbed out of mom's storage and set it up again. I was going to be attending Phoenix College for the first time in the fall semester that year, so my grandparents had graciously offered to help with my rent while I went to school. I just had to figure out how to pay rent for the remainder of the summer.
  
  The first night of our apartment, we decided to go to after hours to celebrate. We had been at a party at Paul Valdez's house, I know that much, and there had been a little drama. I had recently broken up with a somewhat volatile young woman named Suzy. We had been on and off for the past 10 months or so, most of which revolved around us fighting and making up. I was probably one of the three boyfriends she had during that time, so I guess if things weren't going so well with me, she had other options. On the night we moved into our new apartment, Suzy showed up at the party where Jennifer and I were at. I should probably mention that Jennifer and Suzy were bitter enemies. I sometimes suspect that getting back at Suzy was probably Jennifer's motivation in going out with me, but I didn't mind. I probably went out with Jennifer to piss Suzy off too.
  
  Back to the afterhours part...anyhow, after leaving Paul's, we all went to what I think was called "out of water" on Baseline. I can't remember the names of all the after hours places anymore, but we went there to get our groove on and let our buzz wear off. I'm not sure if I was in the club or just in another part of the parking lot, but when Jennifer showed up, she was confronted by Suzy (who was prone to violence). There was some words exchanged, threats, too, if I remember correctly, then Jennifer hit Suzy in the head with a bottle. It was about this time that Jennifer and I unofficially ended our relationship. Stupid me took Suzy's side and ended up going home with her to make sure she did not have a concussion and die in her sleep. Bad choice on my part, for sure, but I was 18 years old and new zip, at that point, about having a healthy relationship with a woman.
  
  The very next day, our good friend Brian asked Jeff and I if he could stay with us for a short time to get on his feet. He was perfectly happy, he said, with the couch in the living room, and the stay would be temporary. As you probably know, Brian never left. We were okay with it, but I'm not sure if Jeff and I were happy with the fact that we had the apartment to ourselves for exactly one night. At least the rent got a bit cheaper for each of us. We had pro-rated rent due on August 1, anyway, since we had moved in on the 15th, so I need to come up with 75 dollars for my share. I had no job and no prospects, so my buddy Tree hooked me up with a job at the phone solicitation dungeon she worked in. I worked there approximately three days until I had my 75 dollars, then I quit. I hated it, and hated working, so I knew it was best to get what I needed and get out. I didn't need much money for anything else, since Easy Street was a few blocks away and I could eat lunch and dinner there. I also figured out that if you went to the ABCO around 2am, there was only one person working there, who was usually stocking shelves, and you could steal anything else you needed.
  
  So I was set. I think Jeff was still working for Pizza Hut, so he was covered and Brian started working with my drummer, George, at Starving Students Movers. Those were the middle days of Religious Skid, which was my band with Tom Stewart, George Nunez, and Dave Clark. I believe Troy and Steve Ady were already gone from the band, at this point, so that's all episode 3 stuff, anyway. We have to remember we are in episode 4. In fact, the day I cashed my check, I was headed to band practice. When I got there, one of the Templetons was there, which didn't mean much at the time, but I now know if was said Templeton who stole my rent money that day. When I left band practice to skate home, I realized my wallet was gone. We searched and searched Tom's practice pad/apartment, but the wallet and money were already probably up Mike Templeton's nose.
  
  My grandparents felt sorry for me and bailed me out of my rent dilemma. I was back on my feet again with about three weeks time to kill before school started. I think we may have partied for those three weeks. I probably worked a bit at Easy Street to make some extra money. I also started dating a girl named Julie. We met at one of the many polka dot pad parties and then Julie and her friends continued to hang out and at our new house. She wanted to go swimming one night and I was the only one else who wanted to go, so we ended up being boyfriend and girlfriend shortly after that.
  
  She was, well, how do I put it and still remain polite....she was a piece of work. Really super nice and a great girl to be friends with, but not the best at having a dating type relationship with. It will probably come as a surprise to y'all, but she also seemed to really bother the omnipresent Suzy Q, who kept showing up. I remember the first time Suzy came over after I started dating Julie. I told Suzy what was up and there was lots and lots of screaming, then the next thing I knew, my skateboard was hurtling towards me and Suzy was gone. I easily dodged the skateboard. I just didn't easily dodge the Suzy. She continued to drop by and cause problems.
  
  These were carefree days, for the most part. We all had our day thing going on, whether it was work or school, then at night our friends typically congregated at our house and we partied or went skateboarding or to a show. I was finding out about all the PC parties, and we still had plenty of friends in high school. Religious Skid was practicing a lot and hoping to play a show at some point. The legend of Gor and the Chowderheads was born at this time in our history. A neighbor kid asked us if we knew Gor, who was this awesome skater punk person he knew about. "Do you know Gor" became a mantra for us. We decided we (jeff, mark, and I) were the chowderheads for some reason.
  
  We had lots of parties. Lots. We had kegs and they often found a way to be filled. I had come across a fake id, at some point, so I was often the designated beer purchaser. This was also one of the ways I made extra money. I would most often keep the change when I bought beer. I didn't make much doing this, but it was something. I was quite poor during the time at 27th and Clarendon, but I almost always had fun. Around November or so, we got a fourth roommate. Our friend Michael also needed a place to stay as his long term relationship with Nora ended badly. He shared the living room with Brian and it was like one big happy family.
  
  We managed to piss a lot of people off during our tenure at that place. We had one particular party where Brian ended up beating up some poor kid. I think the kid had the audacity to break a bottle near where Brian was standing in his bare feet. The poor kid slunk away after his beating was finished, but the fight was not over. About an hour later, the kids shows up with his older brother and some of their friends. I remember answering the door and there being a few words exchanged and then it all becomes a blur of fists, blood, and screaming. Tree told me, after it was all over, that it was the most violent thing she had ever seen. I wonder if she still remembers it? Apparently Brian, Michael, and myself beat the living shit out of these older dudes who, in about 5 minutes, were leaving our house with their heads hung low. They even apologized for coming back to fight with us and begged forgiveness.
  
  I'm not sure if it was that same night when Kevin Strange was stabbed in our front yard, but that was another fun one.
  
  My memory is being flooded with imagery from that time. There are literally so many stories to tell from the six month period we lived in that apartment. On one occasion, Mark asked me if he could draw a picture on the back of the door to my room. He was using pencil, of course, and he just wanted to draw a picture of his character, Mellow Cat, for me. I told him, "sure...draw away. Why not?" Within a couple of months, every inch of my walls and door was covered in ink drawings and slogans. It became one of the coolest things about living there, but also one of the worst. Everybody thought it was fun to draw on my walls and there was really some very cool art. I also liked to drop acid and write stuff for hours, so there was a lot of babbling. There was a lot of hate as we were all kind of angry then. I wish I had more pictures of it, but I have a few, I think, that can give at least a little reminder of what it was like.
  
  That wall saved my life one night. I'm not sure what the time frame was, but I'm guessing November 88-ish. Julie had dumped me after she caught me in bed with Suzy (surprise, surprise), then took me back until I met this other girl, Shannen (not the ex-wife, for those of you keeping score), and started dating her. At this point, after sharing me for a few weeks, Julie got fed up and ran into Mark's waiting arms. Anyhow, we were all very adult about it. Mark and Jeff and I dropped some acid one night went skateboarding in the parking lot near our house with a bottle of tequila. Julie and Mark were together, which was bumming me out, so I proceeded to drink more tequila than I ever had in my life. Eventually I was ready for bed, so I made my way back to my room and passed out. The party was still going on around me and my friend Lisa was drawing on the wall of my room. We were the only ones in there, Lisa drawing, and me being passed out. I started puking. I was laying on my back, though, so I began to choke on my vomit. (I don't remember this...I'm just writing what I was told). Lisa, luckily, was in there when this happened or I may have died. She ran out of the room saying I was choking on my puke. Julie ran into my room and scooped the puke out of my mouth and got me able to breathe. I remember coming to with about 10 people in my room freaking out. I wondered "what the fuck?" I ruined one of my favorite t-shirts as the puke bleached the blue out of one sleeve. Julie insisted on staying in my room all night to make sure I didn't do it again. I think Mark was a bit bitter about all of this, but we got over it.
  
  I have a cramp in my hand, but I don't want to stop just yet.
  
  I got some serious karmic pay back when I started dating the Shannen girl. She was a bit of a player, I guess, so I got what was coming to me from being a bit slutty during those days. I liked her, but she completely treated me like I had been treating my "girlfriends" at the time. I learned a good lesson there, and began to behave myself a bit more respectfully for awhile. Some of you may disagree...which is fine. Between Mike, Brian, Jeff and I, there were a few hearts broken in that apartment....but also a lot of fun times.
  
  We through a semi-formal party for Christmas. This was a lot of fun. We had gotten the idea from our friends Danny and Nicole who had a really fun formal party a few weeks prior. I ended up stealing my friend Emily's car after Danny and Nicole's party and getting her grounded (and really pissed at me) for awhile. I didn't realize Em had a curfew that night as she usually didn't. Jeff and I didn't think she would mind that we took her car to after hours. I also got a ticket that night for running a red light and ended up losing my license for a few years. I didn't have a car, so why should I pay the ticket? I guess I was lucky I got pulled over when I did. Em's parents reported the car stolen just after that.
  
  Anyhow, we had a formal party that was going really well until the cops showed up. When they banged on the door, it fell completely off it's hinges. The cops were there in my house and in the middle of the living room floor was Mark's gigantic hookah. They asked who lived there and several of my good friends pointed to me. Jeff took off out the arcadia door and attempted to hop the fence, only to find a cop waiting there who arrested him (he had a warrant). The cops were pretty cool to me. They told me to keep it down and not give them any reason to come back or I was going to jail. They didn't confiscate anything. Jeff got really lucky, too, as the officers he was riding with got called to a more important crime scene. They dropped him off at 24th St and Camelback and told him to take care of his fines.
  
  Just after the new year, 1989, Jane's Addiction came to Phoenix for two shows at the Underground. We were all pretty big Jane's fans at this point and were stoked to be able to get tickets for both shows. Those were two amazing evenings. We (the whole tribe of us, which was quite large) trooped down to the Underground and took it all in. Not long after that, though, the end was near.....
  
  At the end of January 89, we all decided to move out. I didn't want to live with anyone and opted for a good sized studio apartment closer to PC. Brian was making a lot of dough with his pharmaceutical company, so he and Michael took over our friend Matt's lease, and Jeff moved in with Elms and Cookus. The last party was huge...out of control...and one of my favorite moments was standing in the hallway when the new management came into our pad and saw the decorations we had. The look of sheer horror in this man's eyes was priceless and he had no idea who his tenants actually were. The poor guy had just taken over the management of the apartments earlier that month. All my stuff was already out, so I was free and clear and we were never prosecuted. My room was completely covered in drawings and words, Jeff's room had huge murals on the walls, and the ceiling in the living room was completely covered in bottle caps. There was a giant spiral that began in the middle and went all the way out across the ceiling (probably 10 feet across by 12 feet)...Religious Skid was spelled out in foot high letters across one side, with several other slogans we loved. I wonder how many coats of paint were needed to cover up the ink?
  
  A few other fond memories from that time....getting ten of us in Deanna's Fiero....parties at Johan's.....Blue Hawaiians....Loren Myer's everclear blowout at the Wedge.....Watching Kurt Gibson's homerun in the World Series that year in our living room....Being chased from the Kon Tiki by a bunch of angry skaters with Cordell.......Chocolate Banana milkshakes from Rally's, which was new in the neighborhood....
  
  so many things....
  
  
  
  
  

  6:58 AM

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• Jan 19, 2008

  lazy

  So I go back to work for a few days and I get completely lazy with my writing and forget to post a blog. It is Saturday and there and two additional teenage girls in my house. Elise is having a birthday tomorrow, so her mom thought it would be a good idea to let her have a little slumber party. I will keep my thoughts to myself on this one, accept to say that I fear for America. I fear that we may become an even ruder nation when my daughter's generation takes over.
  
  The work week went okay. I had some pretty interesting kids to talk to and , once again, I fear for the future of America. One kid asked me if I really thought rapists were thinking about power and control when they were raping someone. I asked him what he thought they were thinking about, and after a little polite prodding, he informed me he thought they were thinking about "getting the booty." I wonder if he'll feel that way when he's in prison and being raped himself? In a way, I'm glad he was at least thinking about what I was saying to his class about rape being motivated by power, control, and violence, but I'm also a bit stunned that he missed so much of the point that rape and consensual sex are two completely different things.
  
  I told him I thought there were plenty of men (and women, probably) who are out there wanting to get some "booty." There are, no doubt, plenty of folks who, when they find someone desperate enough to get it on with them, probably only think about the "getting the booty" part of sex and probably don't have any respect for the person they are with. The main difference between these people, though, and rapists is that these types of people, jerks or not, probably take NO for an answer and do not force their partners to have sex against their will. Even the rapist who may be motivated by the thought of having sex with someone at whatever emotional, physical, or sexual cost to the other person still, at some point in the act, switches from being more about the sex to being more about dominating and hurting the other person. I actually got a chance to speak with this kid for a bit after class and was a tad relieved to find out he was pretty confused about the whole "consent vs submit" question.
  
  Other things on my mind...the babies went to their new daycare. So far, so good. I am so relieved to have found a new person who seems to genuinely care for children. I'm also glad that they both seemed to enjoy themselves for the two days they were there.
  
  We (nsk) played a gig last night at an all-ages club. It was not our best gig, by any means, but also not our worst. The club, that one place, was not bad and I would play there again. I still don't feel really well, so it was a bit of a bummer trying to sing my backup vocals and coughing at the same time. I also didn't have near the energy on stage that I had for the shows in California. I think we should only play out of town for now on. I also need to get my gear checked out...I don't seem to have near the volume and bite that I normally do.
  
  I'm hungry. That is one thing I know to be true at this moment. I don't know what I want to eat, but I am hungry.
  

  12:02 PM

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• Jan 16, 2008

  Pepsi box

  My computer sits on an antique pepsi box. I used to drink pepsi quite a lot. I loved it...but it didn't love me. When I stopped drinking alcohol in the early 90's (which obviously didn't take), I think I may have turned to caffeinated beverages as a crutch. I would drink about a gallon of pepsi a day. I also liked the espresso's quite a bit. The El Kabong at the coffee place near ASU was quite a favorite of mine. It was 4 shots of espresso and a bit of steamed milk. Talk about blasting off to the moon. We used to go there before HD practices sometimes. We would end up practicing until 3am...
  
  baby time.
  

  8:23 AM

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• Jan 15, 2008

  It’s Tuesday again and January 15th again

  How many Tuesdays have I lived through? How many have been awesome? How many have sucked? Off the top of my head, I can't think of a Tuesday that has really stood out. I'm sure I probably have had a birthday or three fall on Tuesday. At least one of those had to be good. The babies were damn cute today, so that's pretty cool. I'm sure I've had some real stinker Tuesdays too, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe when I was in previous relationships. Maybe then I had a bad Tuesday.
  
  I didn't have to work today. The school didn't need me. I was okay with that, but I would have rather known before I got dressed and ready for work. I got a haircut today. That was fun. It's always good to see Jennifer and compare notes about our children. It's amazing to me that we are both the parents of 18 year old kids. I have an adult child. Semantics, I know, but the sentence is still true. I also have an almost 5 month old child. On some days, the 5 month old is so much easier to deal with.
  
  I'm freaking out a bit since my son, Ryan, is thinking about going into the Marines. I fear they will send him off to some godforsaken land to kill folks and someone who does not believe like I do or like Ryan does, will kill him because human life does not mean the same thing to everyone. I also fear that Ryan will go off and learn to kill people and that will fuck with his head forever. I fear that the anger inside him will only grow exponentially until it finally consumes him. He's got a lot to be mad about, true, but I hope he gets the chance to learn how to handle his anger. I'm also afraid of what may happen to him if he does not go into the Marines. The path he is currently on is heading straight to jail, I fear, and maybe even a grisly death in someone's car due to consuming too much alcohol. I don't think he has a healthy respect for how much he truly has to lose. The world can be his, if he wants it to be.
  
  January 15th is not a date I remember as being super huge. I know it's someone's birthday and I'm sure I've probably had some good times, but I can't remember a particular one. I want to say that HD had a gig with Fear once on the 15th of January, but now I'm thinking it was the 19th...or the 20th...or the 18th. Anyway, it was a cool gig. The Mason Jar's marquee said, "Lee Ving's Army" when we got there to bring our gear inside. We were the opener, I think, but there may have been another band before us. This had to be in 1995 or 96. When we got inside, Lee Ving's Army was doing their sound check and playing "let's have a war." I was fucking stoked, to say the least. He did a couple more songs then came down and had a beer with Franco. I'm sure Franco was drinking wine or a 75cent Kamikaze. I introduced myself to Lee and told him we were proud to be opening and he couldn't have been cooler. He also looked like a total bad ass. He'd definitely been working out. I'm pretty sure he would have murdered anyone in the bar that night if they would have tried to fuck with him.
  
  What I remember of the show is minimal. We probably pissed a lot of folks off and then Lee's first words were, "we have to go by Lee Ving's Army until the lawyers sort shit out, but fuck it. We're Fear." They ripped through a kick ass set of old time punk rock and fun was had by all. It was one of the first really cool opening sets we got to do. I miss the Mason Jar. I had so many good times there and got to see and play with so many good bands. I was there when it was totally packed and there when Ben and I were the only ones in the place. We saw the Asexuals play a matinee show once and we were the only ones there. They were great, too. I used to go to the Jar quite often when we lived on 22nd street in the mid 80's.
  
  It's a gay bar now....not that there's anything wrong with that. It's fitting, actually, since bands were getting assfucked in there for years. After a while, it wasn't even the bands getting sodomized, but the customers too. When the rolling rocks started being $5, I knew the end was nigh.
  
  Rolling Rocks should never be more than $2.50.
  
  That's my opinion.
  

  8:12 PM

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• Jan 14, 2008

  friends

  I feel truly blessed to be at home among the smarmy, the smart asses, and the truly sarcastic folks in this wonderful world. For those of you who were curious, I made myself some gourmet pizza rolls I picked up at Costco. The dizziness is probably from being on day three of a codeine cough syrup binge. The first night I over did it a bit and nodded out all of the next day. Now I'm getting the dose under control, but hot damn, if I don't keep my belly full, I'm a dizzy bastard.
  
  The last few days have been a hazy state of relaxation with very little coughing. When I do cough, I tend to hack up some rubbery phlegm, the likes of which I haven't seen in a long time. If only there was someone I hated who I could spit this wonderful goo on. It would be the ultimate fuck you. Alas, there is no one I really despise right now.
  
  Back to work tomorrow....
  

  4:43 PM

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• Jan 14, 2008

  eating

  I'm going to make myself something to eat.

  11:00 AM

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• Jan 14, 2008

  dizzy

  I'm feeling a tad dizzy right now. I don't really like it.

  9:19 AM

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• Jan 12, 2008

  so the trip

  The plane flight(s) to Charlottesville were pretty uneventful. I read the paper and then Born Standing Up by Steve Martin. The book is very good and you can almost imagine Steve telling you the story while you are reading it. I could hear his voice in my head and it wasn't even scary. One kinda cool thing about the flight from Phoenix to Atlanta was the new entertainment system that Delta has on some of it's planes. They have a pretty decent "jukebox" feature which allows you to create a playlist for your flight. There were about 100 different cds to choose from. I listened to the new Radiohead while I was reading the Martin book. I liked the cd a lot. Now I wish I would have downloaded it for free when I had the chance.
  
  While in Atlanta, I waited patiently in line to eat at Chili's inside the airport. While I was eating, I got to listen to an older gentleman, who claimed to be from Kansas, complain vociferously about the price of his cocktails. It was awesome to hear him try to mess with the bartender, but she held her own and confounded him a bit with her logic. After all his complaining, he bought himself another round and produced a C-note, which no one sitting at the bar around him failed to notice. The guy next to me said, "he's probably a millionaire" which I thought was probably true. After finishing my mediocre sandwich and soup, I had to catch my flight to Charlottesville.
  
  This flight was also pretty uneventful. I read my book and kept to myself. I tried very hard to keep my coughing to a minimum, but it was getting worse and worse on this flight. The woman next to me was sniffling and sneezing the whole time, so I didn't feel bad about spreading my cold to her. I called my personal driver, Richard, to pick me up from the airport and made my way to the Omni hotel in downtown Charlottesville.
  
  Now, Richard is not exactly my personal driver, but he is a cab driver who drove me to and from the airport on my last adventure in Charlottesville, so I kept his card because I liked his style. He told me some excellent stories last time, so I figured the hilarity would continue on this trip. We talked about how tough the restaurant business is, as well as the difficulty of supporting yourself as a professional musician. Apparently he had experience in both. When we safely arrived at the Omni, I bid Richard goodnight and stumbled to my hotel room. The cold medication was starting to kick in.....
  
  I don't remember much about the first night in the hotel except I spoke with my wife, who I was missing terribly, and I took a huge, horrible, airport food induced dump. I may be crossing the blog line a bit too far here, and I apologize to my more delicate readers, but I had to mention it because I had to call maintenance to come and unclog the toilet. I wonder, should I have tipped the maintenance guy?
  
  I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm was scheduled to go off on Wednesday morning, so I figured I would just snooze a bit and get up when the alarm went off. The next thing I knew, it was 10:15 and I was 45 minutes late for the training that brought me across the country. I did a quick rinse off and practically ran down to where the meeting rooms are on the first floor of the Omni. I didn't really miss much, but to my chagrin, the cold medicine was still kicking my ass. I could not concentrate at all for the first hour.
  
  The training was a booster session related to the official training I received last April in the Olweus Bullying Prevention Program. OBPP is an excellent program and I feel pretty fortunate to be part of it. I actually learned quite a bit when I was at the April training, so I was looking forward to learn more this week. I got some excellent resources and a nice list of books and videos to check out. I just wish I had felt better. Most of the people who attended the training were from Virginia, but there were a few others, like me, who were from out of state. I think I traveled the farthest, though, so I felt pretty cool.
  
  After the training was over I took a walk down the "mall" in Charlottesville, which is pretty nifty little half mile or so outdoor mall at the end of the University of Virginia campus. There are a few interesting looking shops and restaurants, one of which I ate at last time called Mongollian Fusion. I just liked the name, so I had to include it. They serve a pan asian fare with a heavy emphasis on the spicy side of life. I didn't make it back this time as I was really only there for one night. Most of the folks from the training, including myself, went to the Main Street Grille for dinner. I had the meatloaf and a couple of Jomo Lagers. It was very tasty. Jomo Lager is an excellent local brew from the Starr Hill Brewery. I have yet to see it in Arizona, so I took advantage of being back in Virginia.
  
  There was some good conversation at dinner about the state of education and prevention work and such. I was glad I opted to wait until after dinner to take a cold tablet. I would have probably fallen asleep at the table if I had. I just realized that the last sentence of the preceding paragraph is a tad sexual. The Omni didn't have any porn available on the TV, so there was nothing sexual about being in Virginia. I did watch some basketball when I got back to my hotel room, and a show about doing home improvements, such as weather stripping that was mildly interesting and informative.
  
  The last day of the training was also prety uneventful. I finished my book on the flight from Charlottesville to Atlanta, so I was pretty bored for awhile. I had a long layover in Atlanta, so I got some dinner at a panda express-like place. It was pretty good, actually. I got this dish called Bourbon chicken and I could have eaten a bit more of that. After finding a comfortable place to sit near my gate, I watched the San Antonio/Detroit game on tv and made a few phone calls. During the flight back to Phoenix, they showed a movie, "the game plan" with ThE ROCK. It was pretty freaking horrible, but I watched anyway as I had no book and the plane did not have the new and improved Deltatainment package. No Radiohead for me on the way home.
  
  I was pretty happy to see my wife....but my cough had gotten a lot worse, so I was pretty fuzzy. I'm still kinda fuzzy, actually, as I haven't slept really well for about a week. The doc gave me some tussinex (groovy cough medicine with codeine) yesterday, so I nodded out during the Transformers last night. I was enjoying the film, as was the whole family, but the codeine kicked my ass....and I had crazy dreams all night long. I'm kinda looking forward to tonights dose.
  
  That's all for now.
  

  4:20 PM

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• Jan 8, 2008

  travel day

  woke up in Phoenix....and I will go to bed in Charlottesville, Va. Traveling is so weird.
  
  I'm not looking forward to the flight. As previously mentioned, I haven't been feeling very well the last 3 or 4 weeks. I think most of the junk is out of my sinuses, but maybe I'm just used to it by now. Maybe my sinuses have completely solidified and have just been relegated to serving as large snot depositories in my head. If so, my brain may explode somewhere over New Mexico today. If that happens, I hope you all will miss me.
  
  The actual training aspect of my trip should be good. There may be a bit of confrontation, as I don't really think my mentor trainer has done much of anything to help me. I haven't had much to say to her, either, but the impression was clearly given at the first training that our roles were supposed to be fairly well defined. As I understood it, she was there to help me, and would be calling and checking in every month, which has yet to happen.
  
  At least I have a good book to read and I'm sure there will be some sort of light, family-ish movie fare on the plane today. On my most recent cross country plane flights I've been treated to such classics as "the Holiday", "mrs. potter," "inside man" (which I really liked), and "the family stone." I hated the Family Stone, only wishing I was stoned while I watched it so I would fall asleep. If the movie is on par with most of those wonderful films, I think I willl choose to read my new Steve Martin auto-biography. I've been looking forward to it for quite awhile.
  
  I've also been looking forward to sampling (again) a wonderful lager called JOMO. It is local to Charlottesville and I happen to know for a fact the hotel bar has it on tap, or at least they did serve it when I was there last year. It is a very nice little treat. I just hope my head cold does not ruin my ability to taste.
  
  Yes, I have taste. I just can't smell.
  
  Cheers to you all and have a wonderful few days without me.
  

  6:41 AM

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• Jan 7, 2008

  it’s raining again

  6:51am on a Monday morning. It's raining outside, the dogs are sleeping three feet away from me as I type this blog. The babies are asleep and the other kids are getting ready to go back to school for the first time in two weeks.
  
  Thank the lord for small favors. It'll be quiet in the house today as I prepare to return to Charlottesville, Va for a couple of days of bullying prevention training. Charlottesville is a quaint little college town. I will get to see most of it on my way back to the airport on Thursday. There is a nice little outdoor walking mall just outside of the hotel I'll be staying in, so maybe I will get to have another decent Thai meal like last time and have a nice walk. Other than that, there is not much to do except miss the wife and babies.
  
  I missed doing my blog yesterday and I'm feeling guilty. I'm going to have to take a journal with me on my trip so I can get my writing in. It is hard to believe that someday I may spend the majority of my day writing things down. I think it is a good thing. I have stories to tell. I have been thinking about telling them for a long time now, but I have yet to be diligent enough to actually sit down and finish one. Maybe I am scared of how they will end or maybe I am scared they won't be interesting. I don't really know for sure why I procrastinate, even though my wife sent me an email about procrastination. I think I may have skimmed it more than read it, thinking I would get back to it later. And no, that's not a joke.
  
  The story of my life today revolves around a few different themes. Today is going, at least right now at 7am, to be about hanging out with the babies and prepping for my excursion. I have some phone calls to make and maybe a jaunt down to my office to pick up some things for the trip. I need to find a suitable daycare situation for Teresa and Liam or I will continue to stress about that. I also have been nursing a cold for over three weeks now, so I'm a bit stressed about being a snot factory, coughing all over a plane, and picking up whatever new germs will be hanging around said plane and the airports I have to walk through. I feel, in some ways, like I'm turning into Howard Hughes. Over the years I have been working in classrooms, I've become keenly aware of how germs work. They get passed around quite easily, I think, and my immune system eventually develops a tolerance for them, but that first cold or flu always seems to be a doozy.
  
  I have learned to think twice about shaking hands or slapping fives with the kids I work with. They often want to come up and introduce themselves, typically only the boys, and shake my hand. Also, lunch time, if I eat on campus, is a time when I get a lot of high fives and handshakes. I feel bad about inwardly cringing when this happens. Not because I don't want to greet them or enjoy their welcoming me to their school, but because I am leery of the germs lurking on their grimy little fingers and palms. The girls are not really into shaking hands or high fiving. They say hello, of course, and do their giggling thing or act too cool for school, but they are not into establishing the handshake boundary. I'm also glad of this. Girls are even more filthy than boys.
  
  I kid, I kid. I actually really like my job and the opportunity it affords me to have a positive social and educational interaction with both students and teachers. I like the fact that I'm in their classrooms talking to them about things that can actually help them. It is pretty cool to give people tangible information they can, and hopefully will, actually use. I wish someone would've sat me down and talked to me about what a healthy relationship was when I was in junior high or high school. I had no clue how to build a relationship based on respect, communication, and trust until I started working for Casa. I think I had a decent amount of success building a few truly healthy friendships, but dating relationships? Forget about it.
  
  It is baby time, so I must conclude for now.
  
  
  

  6:51 AM

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• Jan 5, 2008

  this one is for Bob

  well, now, I don't know if Bob remembers, but we shook on something. We shook on it and I've been doing it. I've also been looking for an email. I believe I still have text message saying to check my email the next day. Hmmn.
  
  The suns played horribly tonight. Well, actually, they didn't play horribly, they just let the Hornets punk them in the fourth quarter in front of the hometown fans. I would have booed if I had been there. Mike D'antoni has no clue about defense. Why was Amare guarding Mo Pete?
  
  The babies were cute as hell today. I wish Teresa didn't have my cough now. Sometimes I wish I could just surgically attach them to myself.
  
  It rained in Phoenix today. The dogs are in the house and going a bit stir crazy, I think. I should probably let them roam a bit outside before making them sleep, but I don't want to go out in the cold. I can feel my chest tightening up and I have to take a plane ride in a few days.
  
  My wife is pretty awesome. I am a very lucky man. She gave me a nice surprise this afternoon. I think it was because I volunteered to make dinner....and what a dinner it was. Costco has a mean pot roast right now.
  
  One of the dogs is coughing. I accidentally almost wrote "one of the gods is coughing". Hell, maybe one of the gods is actually coughing.
  
  God's favorite Dog is an excellent compilation if you can find it.
  
  Good night.
  

  11:49 PM

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• Jan 4, 2008

  so last night..

  Last night was odd. Really odd. I had the strangest dream. The first part I remember of the dream took place in a large parking lot. I'm not sure which parking lot, but I was there with a large group of people who were all driving vehicles just like the GMC Yukon the wife and I bought in September. The Yukons were all covered in ice. My Yukon was supposed to be covered in ice, as well, as this was part of some type of contest. If I remember correctly, the contest was similar to the Thrash of the Titans show which took place in December. If you aren't familiar with Thrash of the Titans, a bunch of us local music types through are names into hats and formed brand new bands. We did a show in December at Hollywood Alley and it was loads of fun.
  
  Anyhow, the beginning of the dream was all about trying to get my Yukon covered in ice and I was scrambling around trying to get this accomplished. After awhile, one of my bandmates (I guess...some person who I cannot actually place, but was in my dream) needed to take the Yukon. Before I knew it, the Yukon and all of my gear in it had disappeared. For awhile, another bandmate and I looked for the Yukon and ended up in this warehouse. I'm getting kind of foggy now on what happened initially in the warehouse, but after awhile, this family started streaming through the doors carrying all of my equipment, as well as the other band members stuff. They weren't people that I recognized, until a few of my extended family started showing up. I know why these particular people started showing up, actually, because my mom had shown me an old picture earlier in the evening of these folks. It was nice to see them, as two of them have been dead for over 12 years now.
  
  I wonder what this all means?
  
  
  

  12:07 PM

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• Jan 3, 2008

  Dr. Sullivan from Phoenix College

  I was very sad to see in the obituary section of today's Arizona Repugnant that Dr. Bob Sullivan has died. He was an exceptional teacher, and in my opinion, an exceptional man. I haven't seen or talked to him for years, but he truly inspired me as a young man to do better work, both in the classroom, and as a person. He was the department head for Philosophy at Phoenix College and I took a couple of different courses with him during my time there. I know some of you probably had classes with him as well, if you did any time at PC. The man did not respond well to bullshit, but had a great way of getting you to really think about the work at hand. God speed be with him and his family.

  4:23 PM

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• Jan 3, 2008

  don’t have a title in mind

  Crossing things off of a list is a pretty important step to take. At least, in the real world, when you cross something off of a list, it is really gone, right? Things disappear all the time. Sometimes they reappear, which can be grotesquely annoying, but a lot of times, they never return. I guess that means the thing didn't really love you, right? Right?
  
  So today I get to take the babies to the doctor for some shots and a check up. I hope the new insurance cards went through or we will be taking a ride out to the northside for nothing. Damn Doctors office's and their protocols. If anything, it will be nice to get out of the house with the kiddies. I hope the doctor has nice things to say about them. They are, after all, my favorite little folks on the planet and I'd have to maim a doctor who didn't compliment them.
  
  My wife is in the habit these days of watching tv shows about ghost hunting. It's pretty entertaining stuff at times, especially when the real life ghostbusters bicker among themselves. I believe in ghosts, I think, but watching these shows is starting to make me question their existence. None of the dead people I would like to talk to or see again have ever come back for a little haunting. I do think there is something that happens to our energy when we die. By all of the laws that science class ever taught me, our life force cannot be completely destroyed. Our energy has to go somewhere.
  
  My daughter Teresa is quite the little dramatic baby. She just gave me a look I can only describe as sweetly cruel. I didn't pick her up when she wanted me to, so she slowly circled around her discarded toys and sort of flopped over onto the couch. As she looked up to see if I was watching, she made a face that will someday be well known by her significant other. It was the face that said, "you bastard, you did this to me."
  
  I should probably go and pick her up.
  

  9:22 AM

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• Dec 31, 2007

  2007

  The year started off with a whiz bang of a party at our old house. Jeremy brought some fireworks and Mo made some brownies (I will give credit where credit is due), Mark gave them to me, and the rest is history.
  
  Then we found out we were pregnant again. That was a bit of s surprise.
  
  Then my grandfather died. Not a surprise, but it was a blow. I miss him every day. Especially during Christmas, it just seemed weird. I did his eulogy, which was an incredible honor and maybe the hardest speaking engagement I've ever had. I think I could speak to just about any group about anything after that. He was an amazing man.
  
  The job was kinda funky there for awhile. Funding was pretty sketchy and I didn't know if I was going to be a Casa employee for very long. Luckily, things have worked out about as well as could be hoped for. I think maybe my grandfather is up there watching out for me.
  
  We (pinky, nsk, and secret hd) didn't play too many shows this year, but there were some pretty fun ones. Melt Banana was a great show for Pinky at the end of the year. SHoD was lackluster, but still an honor to be involved. NSK did some fun shows in the bay area. I also got to play with Blanche Davidian in November, which was fun. I'm sure I'm forgetting some...oh yeah, Eric and CG and I did some hillbilly songs with yours truly playing guitar. I rock.
  
  In June we bought a house. We love it and we are so thankful for all the blessings it has allowed us. I just wish my wife wasn't scared of our neighborhood.
  
  In August we went to Maine and then had a baby. Liam Vincent Reardon was born on the 19th. He is amazing. Liam is my little man. I am very lucky to have two sons and a step-son. My boys will take care of business when I get too old to.
  
  Teresa continues to grow and amaze me every day. She's screeching in the background. Can you hear her?
  
  In November, my great-grandmother died. My last great-grandparent. Luckily we got to see her in March. She was a remarkable woman. She wanted to be a pro wrestler.
  
  I could go on and on, but I'd rather go see what all the screeching is about.
  
  Here's to a great 2008.
  
  
  

  3:07 PM

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• Dec 30, 2007

  I’m rich again

  the bottles are all mostly clean.
  
  there was something I really wanted to write about earlier today, but I've forgotten what. damn it.
  
  I'm going to attempt to write at least a litte every day, so if you check my blog a lot, prepare yourself. I might even tell some stories.
  
  Are there any stories you would like me to tell, gentle reader?
  
  I will tell them all.
  
  maybe.
  

  6:04 PM

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• Dec 29, 2007

  there could be so many names for this one

  the world of toddlers is a world of narrow misses
  
  stumble around like a drunk
  speaking in tongues
  diaper smells like the rudest skunk
  scream at the top of your lungs
  
  The world of a toddler is a world of narrow misses
  
  hasty escape beaten down the hall
  the cupboard door slams shut
  how can someone so short be so tall
  and a tragedy can be the smallest cut
  
  The world of a toddler is a world of sweet kisses
  
  smile so big that it drowns out the sky
  a hug that can only mean the truest love
  I've got to admit I'm one lucky guy
  and each night I thank my stars up above
  
  The world of a toddler is a world of sweet kisses
  
  
  

  9:48 PM

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• Dec 29, 2007

  best of 2007

  Vil Vodka posted a great blog about the best of 2007. It really made me think about what my best of 2007 would be, but I to be honest I don't think I listened to more than just a couple of things released this year. I have gotten to the point where I hardly ever have the urge to listen to music. I'm usually pretty pleased when I actually do listen to something I grab off the shelf, but mostly I avoid listening to cds whenever possible. A couple things that I really enjoyed this year were the new Blanche Davidian cd, which I'm happy to say I enjoy a great deal. It was kinda necessary for me to listen to it, but I'm very happy I did. I also enjoyed the Dephinger ep "eat a dick", but I think it may have come out before 2007. I'm not sure on that...
  
  I am sure there were plenty of good records that came out this year. I wish I would have recorded one of them. Unfortunately, we didn't make it into the recording studio this year. All of my bands laid kinda low this year. Maybe 2008 will bring something new. I'm sure we'll do another NSK record at some point in the new year. As far as pinky goes, it remains to be seen. Who knows, maybe I'll do a solo record for all my adoring fans. I need to start listening to more music, but somebody needs to come out with something more interesting than sports talk radio.
  
  ********
  
  On another note, we're about to embark on a journey to the outer reaches of Buckeye. It amazes me how much the greater phoenix area has grown in my lifetime. I wonder how much more this basin can take?
  I don't want to see this place when it dies. Maybe I will die before that happens or maybe I will move away, but I think the city of Phoenix will not be a happy to place to live for too much longer. Call it a gut feeling, call it pessimism, call it doom and gloom. Hell, call it whatever you want, but where is the water going to come from and when will it be absolutely necessary for people to be bilingual in order to survive? Now that last comment may seem a tad racist, but it is not meant in any sort of a racist way. The simple truth is that the state of Arizona was once a part of Mexico and why shouldn't the hispanic/latino/mexican/ culture be preeminent again? It probably already is and I know it's a huge part of who I am, but I also know there are a lot of folks who are going to be reluctant to give up the valley of the sun.....
  
  
  
  

  12:08 PM

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• Dec 28, 2007

  chin hairs can be a bitch

  I'm not into shaving. I really don't like it nor do I enjoy growing beards. I am screwed, I guess, because there is no other choices out there. I will shave tomorrow, though, as I do every two or three days. Sometimes I get away with going four or five, but then it starts to hurt. I have no luck with electric razors. I think they are a myth. No one I've ever talked to has anything good to say about electric razors. Perhaps I should invest in a good straight razor and keep it nice and sharp. At least that would be kinda cool and look really badass. I doubt they would let me on a plane with that, but I don't really fly that much, anyway.
  
  I have a new little ritual I do every night. It's kinda cold here right now in the evenings and my dogs get to come in and sleep in the "grey" room. I let them out of the back gate and into our side door so they do not track mud and such through the main house. Every night I have to go and get the gate key, put on my jacket, grab the flashlight, and go outside to fetch them. Every night (except this one), Cal jumps on the fence and I tell him not to. Every night they run like they are freezing their asses off into the house and then look at me like I am crazy for shutting the door on them. I then go back and lock up the gate for the evening. Doesn't this sound delightful?
  
  I'm tired. It has been a long day of baby wrangling....but almost all of the bottles are clean and I went to Costco and bought a new can of baby formula. All is well in my world......but what about Pakistan?
  

  10:13 PM

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• Dec 27, 2007

  post something or other

  I feel the richest, these days, when all the baby bottles are clean. Do you know what I mean? At least that's the way that it seems. The bottles are in a constant state of clean and used. Gently used, usually, but still sort of dry and milky when they are waiting to be scrubbed. I don't mind the job of scrubbing, most times, but it's nice when someone else takes care of it. I love the moments when I walk into our kitchen and see a stack of nice, clean bottles. I wonder if my lovely wife feels the same way. I wonder if it makes her happy to see that I've done the bottles?
  
  The babies don't know about the time I spend counting the number of clean bottles left and figuring how many feedings for Liam and how many nappy time milk bottles for Teresa I have. I'm like some old rich geezer counting my stacks of gold. If I can just make it through to nap time, then I can wash my little vessels of nourishment in peace, without having to step away from the ones who actually hold the account. I can replenish my fortune and walk away feeling, again, like that old rich geezer.
  
  I also have become the accountant of baby formula and lactose-free milk. I'm just not comfortable when there is less than a certain amount of each in the house. What would do in case of a natural disaster if there was not enough formula for Liam or milk for Teresa? I know there is probably never enough of anything, in that case, but I still like to make sure the larder is flush. What will I worry about when they are both beyond the bottle? Perhaps that will be the time I can pick up one of my own.
  
  
  

  8:27 AM

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• Dec 20, 2007

  In matters of mostness

  tender hearts and souls should sound
  the merry song of triumph
  but neither sound nor song is sung
  when night's dark blanket stifles
  the most quiet of whispers.
  
  mother night you've come again
  drinking in my thoughts and tensions
  you're strongest at the midnight hour
  and you feed on even the best intentions.
  
  ******
  
  fuck whispering. Try shouting. Try screaming loud and proud.
  Not try, but DO, no boohoohoo. Take it back and take it now.
  I live, I LOVE, I LIVE, I LOVE, and you are the one who I do both for.
  I live, I LOVE, I LIVE, I LOVE, and you are the one who I do both for.
  
  YOU ARE THE ONE.
  
  My one. My one and only.
  
  And it will ONLY be this way.
  
  
  ******
  so stifling night and timid plight
  there is no suffering under your dark sheet
  when day has come there is but one
  and thank heaven this one has found me.
  

  7:45 AM

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• Dec 19, 2007

  something this morning

  Current mood:embarrassed

  I realized this morning (and maybe this makes me a late bloomer) there are things worth caring about and things not worth caring about. I already knew this, sort of, but situations have come up where this has become painfully obvious. I need to think about how my actions may affect others and then figure out a way, if it is really necessary, to act without malice (intended or otherwise). Communication would definitely help here, I think, and in the future, if I think something might not be okay with someone I care about, I should talk to them about what I am thinking about doing or looking at or learning about.
  
  This is in no way an effort to lessen my responsibility for my own actions. I am often idiotic, narcissistic, and blind to the feelings of others. I can do better, though, and realize the need to do so. This is the only life I am going to get, so why not live it to the fullest and be the best person I can be? The last few months have been a lesson (for me) in what is really important and what I have been holding on to that is not so important. This is my public testimony, as well as a first step in keeping a promise to my friend Bob.
  
  I write, therefore I am, and by writing, I can also become who I am.
  
  
  

  7:56 AM

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• Oct 19, 2007

  friend married to a c*nt

  Current mood:cold

  what the fuck is wrong with you
  you measily little prick
  suck my dick
  and our friendship is sick
  what the fuck is wrong with you
  if you are now a jew
  why would you stay married to a nazi shrew
  you blame you but it's not true
  fuck you two (too)
  
  
  
  

  1:43 PM

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• Sep 30, 2007

  anticipation

  well. the anticipation of a new project is very exciting and a bit scary.
  
  I also just want it put out there that I am incredibly happy right now in my life. I have an amazing wife and 7 wonderful kids. I can't wait to see who the kids become, as well as see where life takes Bizzo and I. Mr. Baby Man has made me so proud, just as TQ did, and Captain Obvious before her.
  
  Anyhow....that is all.
  
  
  
  

  6:03 PM

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• Sep 5, 2007

  Cleaver word wrangler

  I'm a cleaver word wrangler
  a preposition dangler
  a naughty night time angler
  and a rarely star spangler
  
  cleaver not clever
  leaver not lever
  Tom Seaver not sever
  and beaver not bever-age.
  
  age is to something like rage is to nothing and cage is to closing like beige is to hosing and moshing and noshing and gnashing and bashing.
  
  clean sheets and old beets
  clean sheets and old beats
  clean sheets and old feets
  clean sheets and old meats
  
  cleaver not clever
  neither is better
  
  

  10:56 AM

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• Sep 5, 2007

  provocation

  there are just so many things a man can take....at least at once.
  
  what can I do? where can I go to make a difference? which direction would be the best?
  
  reality? what the hell is that?
  
  the most real things I know are the ones I want to protect the most. how in the hell do I do that?
  
  the grass really is greener sometimes, but it also needs to be cut more often. I don't own a lawnmower. Yet.
  
  
  looking for a lawnmower.
  
  now.
  

  10:51 AM

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• Sep 1, 2007

  redefining tact and compassion

  There is no greater feeling than when someone makes you feel very small in front of people you love, except maybe the nice sound of a thick door slamming.
  
  I have seen this show before but I won't watch this channel again.
  
  Somebody told me I was better than this and I believed her. I wonder if she still thinks so?
  

  10:57 AM

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• Jul 6, 2007

  enunciate like a eunuch

  (I'd say something if I could but I can't)
  (mouthing the words to so a song by the BRAT)
  (temperature check from a old loose thread)
  (my bones are old and so is my head)
  (I've been a eunuch with a speech impediment)
  (troublesome thoughts stuck plungers with excrement)
  (flip up the collar and give me a dollar)
  (they made me this way because I scream and holler)
  
  (where tongues become tongs and all rights become wrongs)
  (there is no more slang because they used it all up in their songs)
  (chanting is useless when you don't have a cause)
  (and more so than ever I believe in their laws)
  
  (wouldn't you would you and couldn't but should)
  (them pills that they sell are working too good)
  (they tried to expel me with a tacit attack)
  (but I opened by mouth) and back grew my sack
  
  
  

  2:49 PM

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• Jul 5, 2007

  I only blog in leather: Or why Lord Vader jacks off into a black leather sock

  Raise your hand if you've ever been giddy
  like G. Gordon Liddy on a titty twister high
  Raise your hand if you like vagina or some nice fine china
  Yell "pull" 'til they let the plates fly
  The square root of nun and an army of one
  couldn't find a terrorist if you looked him in the eye
  The square root of rum and a river of cum
  couldn't find an atheist who didn't talk to the sky
  And old Phyliss Diller wasn't really a swiller
  but she spoke like a sailor on rye
  And old Barney Miller was a helluva a thriller
  with the devil in a cage on the sly
  

  8:56 PM

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• Jun 13, 2007

  lyrics I'm proud of..

  casa bravo (an old hillbilly song)
  
  tax the rich by granting opportunity
  feed the poor with a mouthful of lies
  I can't be a part of your majority
  when real morality is what you despise
  
  show your colors
  this is america
  land of opportunity
  home of the brave
  
  when the government controls the class war
  by supporting those with more than they need
  your tax dollars pay for mediocrity
  under the weight of so much greed
  
  show your colors
  this is america
  land of opportunity
  home of the brave
  
  I live in america
  so why should I complain
  I'm told I have the right to
  but I do it in vain
  I'll question authority
  until the day I cannot
  if it's blood they want
  then it's blood they've got
  
  don't look away when opposition faces you
  look those bastards right in the eye
  your opinion counts if you believe it's true
  don't follow others just so you get by
  
  show your colors
  this is america
  land of opportunity
  home of the brave
  
  this is america
  bush's america*
  this is america
  bush's america
  
  *used to be "this is america" repeated four times at the end, but Ray Love made the change....
  
  Wrote that one in 95 or 96....but the lyrics are still true today..and on my mind a lot, for some reason...
  
  
  

  9:44 PM

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• May 24, 2007

  ADD IT UP

  Current mood:anxious

  I said I would add more when I last wrote something.
  
  I wrote my grandfathers eulogy and shared it with his people at his funeral. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I miss him every day, but at least I have a picture of him and Teresa for my screensaver.
  
  Since February, a lot has changed. My job is finally looking to be back on solid ground. It's only been about 5 years now of wondering if my paycheck would be on time or if it would bounce. It's been fun, let me tell you.
  
  We are buying a house. Wow. More on that later...I'm sure there will be a big party.
  
  The band thing is kinda stagnant. NSK plays about once a quarter, so it's pretty low key, and pinky is in a holding pattern of some sort. I think we are waiting for divine inspiration. Buck Farkley has been a nice diversion and I can't wait to play our show.
  
  xBxRx was a pretty cool the other night when they opened for Melt Banana. It's nice to find a new band to like....and they seemed like good guys.
  
  I wrote a story today.
  
  didn't finish it.
  
  started it though....so that's a start.
  
  time to watch TV.
  

  9:00 PM

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• Feb 2, 2007

  TVG RIP

  Current mood:sad

  I miss my Grandfather today. He died this morning. He lived yesterday when I saw him. I saw it in his eyes. He told me he loved me and "God bless you" and told him the same things. There is so much more I would have loved to have said, but I think, in the end, we said enough. I did love him. With all that I am....because he is the main reason that I am who I am.
  
  I am thankful for his advice, his love, his compassion, his courage, his time, and his disappointment. I have never felt worse than when I did something to disappoint him. I am thankful that he got to spend a bit of time with Teresa. I am thankful that he got to see that I am happy now.
  I will miss him until there is no more to miss.
  
  and I'm sure I will add to this.
  

  8:13 PM

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• Jan 3, 2007

  naturally I dropped another easy one.....

  Current mood:sad

  I'm an idiot with an anger problem
  and a sinner with more sin than sense
  
  I jinx myself whenever I say I need some snuggle time....and I end up with none.
  
  I miss my wife right now more than anything I've ever missed, but I understand why there is a hallway between us. I put up a wall with two words.
  
  

  9:44 PM

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• Dec 3, 2006

  that moment

  why does it always have to be about that moment when you feel like you're living in spite of yourself?
  
  I'm not sure what it means, really, but I think it would make a great lyric.
  
  and you're living in spite of yourself again
  trashing your room and killing your friends
  anger is your master your life's a disaster
  and nothing will make you content
  
  and you're living in spite of yourself again
  lying and stealing the breath you so lavisciously spend
  anger is your mistress your God is your witness
  and nothing is ever pretend
  
  and you're living in spite of yourself again
  fighting to death the hands we so lovingly extend
  anger is your sentence your action's your reference
  and nothing is better unsaid
  

  2:30 AM

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• Nov 30, 2006

  it's been awhile

  I don't know what to say except that the not knowing is often worse than the knowing.
  
  I love my wife and my children. They all continually amaze me.
  
  Life is hard, but it's also good.
  
  I wish for many things this year, being that it is the holidays and it's the time of year that we can all get away with asking for things. I wish I could bottle up the way I feel so that I could give it to the people I care most about when they wonder what I'm feeling. I would just say to them, "take a sip and taste what I feel." I'm certain they would enjoy it and I'm sure it would make things a bit easier.
  
  Or I could just learn to communicate better, or at least as well as I communicate with myself in my own head.
  
  Peace on earth would be nice too, but I'm not sure the American Government could handle it.
  
  And what about this crazy weather?
  
  I think sharks would wear short sleeve shirts if they could find ones to fit properly. Why, you may ask, but I'm not sure I could answer you and I'm not sure why I think that, but I do.
  
  Down the hall from me right at this very moment are the best people in the world. I think I'm going to go put my pajamas on and join them....
  
  maybe I'll even get a kiss.
  
  I hope I do.
  
  g'night.
  
  

  11:51 PM

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• Aug 30, 2006

  wow.

  first and foremost, some people should learn to fight their own battles and some people should learn that every battle is not their own.
  
  I'm bummed. Completely. A goal was in my grasp and now it has to be forgotten. But it won't be...it will always be a "what if" or a "should have been"....
  
  Does it make me less of who I am? I don't think so. It is who I am.
  
  Which begs the question, am I my own failure or am I the maker of my possibilities and my success? I think it's somewhere in between and I can live with it.
  
  The good side is clear, though. I get more time with those I love and I get closer to other goals.
  
  At least I have been to CBGB's.....
  

  10:12 AM

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• Aug 15, 2006

  today, as opposed to any other day, previously unmentioned

  Current mood:cheerful

  it catches me by surprise sometimes just how much my life has changed....
  
  in a short time and by a very short person.
  
  Being a father again has given me an undeniably new perspective on being a father, and now, step-father. I miss the time I didn't get with Ryan more than ever.
  
  Being married again is amazing, too. I love it and I love her.
  
  I can't believe how lucky I am...and I haven't won powerball yet.
  
  
  

  5:04 PM

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• Jun 14, 2006

  on my mind

  Current mood:anxious

  tremble and wobble
  the last days before the new ones
  keeping time with my foot
  to the beat of another heartbeat
  redemption? I wonder
  and I talk to myself
  when I think no one will notice.....
  
  because I can't wait to talk to her
  

  6:44 PM

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• Mar 22, 2006

  f'n frulllps

  1. I won a contest for being the cutest baby in Phoenix when I was a mere toddler.
  2. I am fascinated by the word "instrumental"
  3. multi-tasking is next to impossible for me.
  4. I would love to be the President of the United States.
  5. I will drink blue gatorade but I will not eat blue m & m's.
  6. I'm not going to tag anyone because I have to get back to work.