Sky Tied

Sigh. Why the hell am I still awake? Why!? How I hate, hate, hate insomnia. I’ve struggled with it throughout my life, even as young as six or so. I’m so tired, and yet, whenever I lie down, close my eyes and try to sleep, nothing happens. Nothing! ARGH. There is a Ren and Stimpy cartoon where Ren is unable to sleep for an entire night. After much hijinx and such during the night, as the sun rises and Stimpy’s golf buddies show up with their clubs, Ren holds up $5 and says, “I’ll give five bucks to the first person who can knock me out!” And that was just one night of lost sleep. I routinely go a few days without sleep, and nobody (yes, including doctors) has a satisfactory explanation for it. Sigh. I used to write the best poetry at 3 o’clock in the morning, under very much the same circumstance. I’m beginning to wonder if, since I’m no longer writing anything late at night (poetry wise), have I finally run out of things to say? Hmm.

I’m not sure how many of you have noticed, but a lot of the titles to my blog posts are from the lyrics of the songs I happen to be listening to at the time. Don’t read too much in to the one on this post. It’s just funny that, in my tendency to listen to music late at night, my song choices tend to have lyrics that mirror my mood or what I’ve been thinking about during the day. Perhaps I can abandon writing altogether, and just blog the last five or six songs that I queued up on my MP3 playlist. Eh? Okay, maybe not, but it would be a pretty representative sample of my state of mind. Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about music the last couple of days. Not for any particular reason, other than I wanted to consciously notice each song that I have a memory, feeling, person, or otherwise attached to it. So for each song that I heard during the day, whether it be one that I chose or one that came on randomly during my day, I try to decide what sort of attachment I have to it. Good. God. When

Continue readingThe dreams in which I’m dying, are the best I ever had

I got home from work today and stood in the doorway of my house. It’s Christmas eve today, and my house was empty. There was nobody here to cook dinner, nobody decorating a tree or putting presents under it. I have no stockings hanging from the fireplace. I realized I couldn’t stand to sit here and look at it. I went for a jog, hoping to clear my head, and get some badly needed exercise… regardless of the fact that there’s still two feet of snow on the ground. For some reason, in the past seven or eight years, jogging has become my way of processing the things in my life that are bothering me. There was a time when I would push myself through the last couple miles of a jog, even though I knew I shouldn’t. Many occasions resulted in me puking at the side of the road from exhaustion, and instead of stopping like a sane person, I’d continue on. It may sound completely insane, but it really has more to do with being unable to stop something I’ve started. I’ve always been like that. I’m back home now, obviously, and I’m sitting in my office typing

Continue readingThe many ghosts of Christmas’ passed

When I was about six years old, I was sitting in the living room of our house on Williams Street in Lebanon, OR. My aunt Misty (my mom’s sister) had come in and was visibly upset. I overheard the adults talking about my grandparents (my mom’s parents) not being able to make ends meet. They didn’t have money for food and some of their bills. At that time in my life, I was saving up for a Nintendo gaming system. I was in the living room counting the money that I’d earned (which was next to nothing at that time… I was six, sue me) from doing chores and working whenever I could. I stared down at the small wad of bills and change that totalled a little over $7 (which is a lot for a six year old, especially in 1988). That Nintendo, I decided, suddenly seemed pretty unimportant. I remember that point vividly in my life, as I remember it was one of the first times I sacrificed what I wanted for the well being of somebody else. I interrupted the conversation and said, “They can have my money.” I collected all that I had, every penny, and

Continue readingAnd a merry merry Christmas, and a happy New Year

Last night I couldn’t sleep, and as I tend to do, I sat by the fire and began writing to pass the time. I pondered over the many choices and directions that brought me to where I am today. I’ve done a lot of things; some good, some bad, some indifferent… but I decided I would write up a list of things I would tell my younger self  (or my son, if I ever have one). In other words, a cheat sheet on living, if you will. Here they are so far. They are not ordered by importance or anything like that. Thoughts? 1.) When you’re cooking that first meal in your apartment, remember that the handle on a cast iron skillet can look cool, even if it’s hot. 2.) The way a girl looks in a tight shirt and/or skirt, is no basis for a relationship. 3.) If you’re confident and knowledgeable, people will always come to you for answers. Feel free to readily admit when you don’t know. 4.) Don’t get married until you’re at least 25. Better yet, 30. 5.) Streaking naked through a mall is hilarious and fun. Just remember a few things when you’re diving

Continue readingIf I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself…

The power at my house has been out for most of the day, and just now came back on. I can’t get any work done (I’m working from home), because the remote connection is hanging up. This morning I sat near my fireplace, a stick of nag champa incense burning, music playing on my D cell cd player, a cup of hot cocoa in one hand, and a book in the other (“A Short History of Nearly Everything” By Bill Bryson). It’s hard not to smile, even if I’m in the dark and my house is cold. My phone has stopped working, since it is connected through my cable modem and the battery in it has died. The incessant ringing of that infernal device has ceased. I sit here in the still and the silence, watching the snow fall, and I’m smiling for no particular reason. I’m snowed in, but I’m not worried. I have nowhere to be. I suppose I’d best save this before my power goes off again. Some days… you’re just happy to be alive.

So. It has begun. The end is nigh. Or something else amazingly dorky and full of rhetoric. I sit here, waiting for my power to go off (AGAIN), and I’m sure I have mere moments. I figured I’d just post a few pictures of my snowy dream and/or nightmare:

Very few people, if any, know what I’m about to write in this blog entry. I’ve kept it near and dear to my heart for several years, and only now do I feel comfortable sharing it. In 2003 or 2004, I spent almost six months (in its entirety), in airplanes, taxis, trains, and hotel rooms. My marriage had subsequently dissolved and I was in the process of getting my first divorce, I had received news that my best friend, Rob, had died in a car accident, and I was having a hard time dealing with it all at once. I was, for lack of a better word, depressed. I was down in the very pit of my soul, and there was nothing that could drag me back out. During the worst of it, in Indianapolis, many sleepless nights were spent out on the balcony of my hotel room, ten stories up, with my feet dangling from the edge and writing about what it would feel like to jump. That all changed midway through the trip. I drove my rental car to the office of a State Farm representative. When I went in, we met, shook hands, and he showed me

Continue readingThere’s always one last light to turn out, one last bell to ring

I just tore the band-aid off my arm that I was kindly provided by the Red Cross… you know, for purposes of keeping the rest of my blood in my body. Holy. Shit. It’s freaking bleeding everywhere! I better not be a hemopheliac all of the sudden. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t pull all of my arm hairs out. God damn…

I gave blood today at work. It’s never easy for me, regardless of the fact that I enjoy being stuck with needles. No, the last several times I’ve given blood, I’ve gotten lightheaded and a tab bit woozy. Not bad, but bad enough that they’d tilt me back in those oversized lawn chairs. I like to think that my blood has helped people. Something that I can create by simply sitting here typing away can save the lives of up to 3 people each time I donate. It’s an amazing thing to think about, and even though the process is a bit of a pain and I still feel dizzy and sick afterward, I will never stop going. As I said in the subject, each drop of my blood is an answered prayer to somebody, somewhere. If you believe the statistics and the hype, I’ve helped to save around 75 people… simply by being stuck with a needle and giving a little bit of myself. Do yourself (and someone else) a favor sometime this month. Give blood.