Well, here I am. The prodigal son has returned...and with me, I have found a couple of bonus blogs that were never even posted. Hopefully, I've remembered how to use this site and will find a way to post them.

It's been nearly 8 months since I've last sent my personal life out into cyberspace. Who in the world could have come up with such a fantastical idea such as this? "Hmm...let's create a site where any average person can pour their souls out for mass consumption, probably by bored and cynical youths to make fun of?" Oh well. Oh wait. Am I cynical? Do I still have my youth?

Much has happened. My grandfather passed away, but I believe I wrote about that in a blog that was never posted. I've since decided to become more disciplined and dove back into the world of academia full throttle (yes, a shameless reference to say the least...I have a thing for the "Charlie's Angels" movies...shake that ass, Cameron!) and it's nearly killing me. I had almost forgotten the demands of having to use my brain. Ouch! The pinching! But this forthcoming semester, the semester to end all semester. This is the period of time that will make or break me. On December 6, 2003, I will be sitting down for a 4 1/2 hour exam that will determine whether the fine legal system of this country deems me fit to practice as a legal aide. Let's keep our fingers crossed, folks, because you know what comes next...law school.

Between working full time and trying to squeeze in an educational career as well, I have become disconnected with the world. My friends, my family, are all at arms length. I have no time, it seems. When I'm not at work, I'm face down in a book and vice versa. I miss my life. I miss my loved ones. I miss myself, if you can believe it. And I am constantly asking myself, "Is this all worth it? Is the payoff going to be worth the lost time?" It's safe to assume that I pray all the time that the answer is "Yes."

I guess that should finish this latest and newest entry. I'd forgotten how cathartic this whole process is...at least now I have a nifty new laptop to fiddle with, so with that, I'll bid the world adieu.

p.

FREE WINONA!

Winona, I just want to take an opportunity to tell you that I still stand by you 100%. I don't care that the jury found you guilty of 2 of 3 charges...if you did in fact commit these crimes, then you sucker-punched the grand pooh-bah that I have wanted to sucker punch for so long...so, in closing, I just want to say: "You GO, Girl...Interrupted!"

What'sThePoint?

I have a question for all of you dear readers...what's the point in all this? What is the purpose of this thing we call "life?" You're born, you grow, you suffer, you die. I mean, sure, there may be some small pinch of happiness sprinkled in there...somewhere...extremely sporadically...but why do we even bother? Death is the only constant we have to count on in this life. If nothing else, death will never disappoint. Now, how fucked up is that? Two family members...two dear family members...two huge pieces of my heart...gone and buried within 8 months of each other. And I must ask, "Why?"

The Lord giveth, but guess what? The Lord will taketh away just as fast. I know I am supposed to be strong in my faith at times like these, but I'm not. I am pissed. I'm angered, I'm sick, I'm empty, I'm confused, I'm alone, I'm depressed, I'm shaking, I'm jaded, I'm weak, I'm not really wanting to put faith in much of anything these days, and I just don't know if I am wrong because of that. Who's next? What's next? Why bother with love when it will end up drowned in a pool of reality?

I guess I'm not making any sense...but I have that right, because right now...I am nothing but sad.

Goodnight.

GodBlessTheWorld

I know to some it may seem trite, or even cliched by now, but I personally, wanted to take this opportunity to encourage a moment of silence among us, and in that silence, realize how beautiful each and every departed soul is, but more importantly, how beautiful each and every living soul is. Today hit me hard, probably harder than the events did a year ago. I cried thinking about the lives that were lost, but while walking outside tonight, I looked up at the stars in the sky and realized...those souls are still very much alive. Bottom line is: I think we all need to be grateful for who we are and for the love that we have in our lives...and to all of the victims, you won't soon be forgotten. God Bless You All.


And now on the flipside...there has to be a bright side, right? Do any of you out there know what the most spoken line in movies is? Give up? "Let's get out of here." It works for all types of situations..."They're shooting at us...let's get out of here." "Aliens have landed...let's get out of here." And it is my belief that the quote in question can also serve as a very important test...and to the one I spoke to about this...you know what I'm talking about. Thank you, '3 to tango.'

So, now that I have made absolutely no sense at all in the previous paragraph, I will be on my way before any additional incoherent blabbering flies out of my mouth. Sleep well, everyone...God be with us all.

NoTitleNecessary

Do you ever get "that" feeling? You know, "that" feeling...the one you can't deny, but the exact one that you could not describe even if your life depended on it? Something inside that is whispering to you from the deepest pools of your soul? The one that lets you know that something is up, that something is going to happen...and that the "something" in question isn't necessarily bad? I don't know why I even brought this up, really. I suppose I just wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one. Strange thing is...thinking of this leaves me with only one thought:

...love is a funny, funny thing...

Goodnight.

etc...

Ok, so I am back, sooner than expected, only to continue about the same damn thing I blogged about last time. I am finding myself in this funk...not just an ordinary funk that lifts after a short while, kind of like a dense fog, but instead it is a royal funk that I find myself in. It hasn't lifted a bit in nearly a week, and I am starting to worry that this ditch I have fallen into will be my resting place for a good chunk of time. How do I rid myself of this? I think that I had such an amazing time while temporarily fleeing reality and spending those six days in California with that beautiful family and that beautiful environment, that when I finally had to return to this doldrum most commonly referred to as my 'working life,' my mind refused to abandon the source of such neural pleasure. Everything I see and hear around me, I immediately compare to something I heard or saw out West, and while I still stand the ground that California is one of the greatest places on earth, I also think that I am not being fair to myself. Everyone knows I have separation issues, and I know good and well this will pass, but hey, what the fuck else am I supposed to blog about, huh?

Something great is bound to happen, it just has to. Good things happen to good people, right? Well, BRING IT ON! I guess I'll just complete this film that How and myself are still working on, do my best to educate myself, and find a meaningful job...that's a simple enough plan, right? Then I can say "SUCK MY ASS!" to all who deserve it, and start a phase of my life that the richest of the rich will be envious of (envious of the amount of happiness, not money)...if I may take a quote from a Shirley Manson lyric, "...when I grow up, I'll turn the tables." ("...ba ba ba ba...ba ba ba ba")

Hasta...

RealityBites

Well my dear readers, it has been quite some time since I've contributed a fresh blog, and what better time to do so than right now. You see, for the past 11 glorious days, I have been free of my shackles. That enormous weight that rests itself at the epicenter of my spine was lifted, ever so briefly, that is. Yes, you see, I have been on vacation. The bullshit of work has not been able to find me...until now. In the morning, I must return to my ridiculous job and work with even more ridiculous people...an eight hour reminder of just how much I hate that place and and eight hour session on trying to figure out just exactly how I got there and why the hell did I stay so long?

I guess it was worth it. I returned from northern California the other day. What an absolutely gorgeous, God-kissed part of this country. I can't stop thinking about it and find myself longing to return...with these longings growing so intense that from time to time I am afraid I may tear up a bit. Some truly amazing family, some truly amazing weather and scenery that would bring the most powerful and stoic of men to their knees at the sheer wonder and awe of their sight, are only a few things that keep me wanting to go back...but what I cannot decide is this: Do I want to go back for another visit? Or do I want to go back in an attempt to transplant my life? The thought of moving away, of starting fresh in a place where no one knows who I am.........now that is temptation...

Goodnight...

Hello, folks. I have nothing new to add, even though it's been nearly three weeks since I've last blogged. I don't know what else to tell you. I decided to return to school in the fall, pending the results of my financial aid plight. Hopefully, someone, somewhere, will send me some green and I'll be able to return to the land of acadamia...and quickly, I hope, because I don't think that I spelled "acadamia" correctly.

I'll be setting off on my first vacation in two years early next month...I'll be flying to the gay old land of San Franciso (super!) to see the sights and visit with some family. All I really want to do is get my picture taken in front of Jack Kerouac street, get a few good scenic shots of the Golden Gate Bridge and maybe jet on over to Lake Tahoe for a day. But all of this means that I must first step foot onto a plane, an actual plane, full of 300 or so actual people, and that terrifies me more than I can describe. Hopefully, Mr. Valium and I will become awfully acquainted during this trip. We'll see how it goes.

I hope to be travelling quite a bit, actually. In March of 2003 (or perhaps as early as October 2002, depending on the health of the person I'm visiting) I'll be setting out on a road trip with my good buddy to the Windy City. My grandfather is not exactly the picture of good health, and I would like to see him one more time before anything drastic occurs. He suffers from Alzheimer's (sp?) and even though I know for a fact he won't remember who I am, I'd still like to see the only link to my past that I actually know anything in depth about. And plus I love road trips...it'll be just like Kerouac and Cassidy (and whoever else would like to go is more than welcome to do so)...

More to come...be good, my friends.

Women are like Rubix Cubes...only there pretty much isn't a way to cheat...you know, how when you were playing the cube, when times got desperate and all else failed, you could peel the squares off and tediously place them on a matching side. Well, when it comes to women, I'm not exactly sure what you're supposed to try and peel off, unless of course, you take into account, that thick layer of bullshit they surround themselves with (note to all women: the GOOD women, and you know who you are, have sort of molted that layer off years and years ago, so I am not referencing you). "Hey, "so and so" why don't you come over, it'll be a fun night with some good food." The reply: "Oh, that sounds great. Sure, and I'll call (insert a man's name here) to see if he'd like to go, too."

I'm sorry...what the fuck? I asked YOU, not you AND your testicularly challenged cohort. I swear, certain females are going to drive me to read Sylvia Plath (whoa, nelly) and listen to nothing but Tori Amos (whoa, depression!). Maybe I should send in an app to elimiDATE or The 5th Wheel, or MAYBE I could become the next "Bachelor." Ahh, screw it...right in the ever-crusting ear!

ghostsOfYesteryear

Do you ever find yourself haunted by old ghosts? I don't mean "ghosts" in the sense of supernatural beings, I mean "ghosts" in the sense of past events, past thoughts, actions or experiences? It usually happens every year around this time that I find myself revisited by memories, or as I have so casually been referring to them, ghosts. I just can't seem to shake them, and I know that I really do need to find a way to let them go, to rid myself of them once and for all.

Last night I was trapped in this strange place between a state of dreaming and a state of consciousness, in which I re-lived a certain period of my life in full and graphic detail. It was so real to me that when I came around, I was shaking. What does that mean? I thought I had found closure to all things gone by that may have troubled me, but instead, I find myself being attacked at full force. Strange. Maybe I need to do some serious self-evaluation.

But before I go on and sound even more like some cheesy late-adolescent journal entry, I'm going to go.

Sleep well.