I Love Fall

I spent yesterday in the first week of October. After the cool morning with a nice wind, and a gorgeous sunset with the windows down, I was officially living in autumn yesterday, regardless of the fact that it was July. I busted out my "fall" music and put it on in the office, and enjoyed the rest of the day. I'm not ready to give that up, so I wrote a blog in my head last night about why I love fall so much. Here are the top 10 reasons why I like fall so much. *dreamy sigh*

10. Hurricane Season!
Yeah, I know, I'm an insensitive prick for saying I love hurricane season, but think about it. Hurricane season is the only time when it's really interesting to pay attention to the weather. All other times of the year I don't pay attention to the weather and live on the edge, not knowing when it's going to rain. But hurricane season, how can you not admire the beauty of such a huge force of nature, it's awe-inspiring, c'mon. And the names? That's the best part. It's revenge for nerds because it's the only time Herbert will ever strike fear in the heart of anyone.

9. The smell
As long as you don't live in New Jersey (rim shot) you know what I'm talking about. The smell of fall. The only way to describe it is fresh. It's so crisp and invigorating, you can sit outside just to smell the air and be perfectly content.

8. The temperature and breeze
This is somewhat related to #9. The breeze is what spreads around that wonderful smell, but the temperature is what makes it so nice to go outside. When you drive home in the fall, you don't need a/c, you don't need heat, you just need a pair of windows and an open highway baby.

7. Winter is coming!
Yes, you heard it, I love fall because that means winter is coming, my second favorite season. Yeah, I'm one of those freaks that thinks wearing a huge blue coat with 25 pockets that goes down a foot past your waist is cool. I like snow, I like seeing my breath. I like 3 foot icicles that hang down from the overhang in the roof. I like to snap them off and prop them up in the sink between dishes, it looks cool. I like watching snow fall, I like hearing snow fall (yes, it makes a sound if you're quiet, a certain shorty from NY knows all about this) I like the white snow on everything, so calm and peaceful. Bring on the cold!

6. The colors of the leaves
Now, I must say, that if you haven't been to New England in the fall, then you can't understand fully what I'm saying here. You need to spend a week in New England in the fall at least once in your life if you can. The leaves are incredible, and their everywhere, and every color: red, orange, yellow, auburn, golden, purple, ok, maybe not purple. It's like the sunset one night just left all it's colors on the leaves as it went down.

5. My big blue fleece sweater (though everyone says it's a sweatshirt, big friggin difference)
This tells you how much I love that sweater. It's just a big, dark blue fleece sweater, and it's absolutely my favorite item of clothing. I wear it all the time: during the fall, the winter, and early spring. Seriously, any excuse to put it on, and I'm wearing it. It's fuzzy, cozy, warm, and has a lot of memories in it. And the best thing about it? I bought it several years ago for about 12 bucks at K-Mart. Booyah!

4. Summer is over!
This is the most triumphant reason you can yell from the rooftops to everyone around. Yay!!! Just thinking about it gets me excited. I HATE SUMMER. Everyone who knows me knows I've always felt this way. I don't beg for summer once winter and her sub-zero temperatures come, no, I always hate summer. I'm one of those crazy kids that thinks 90 degree heat with 80% humidity isn't any fun, go figure. I can't freakin wait for this inescapable sauna they affectionately call "summer" to be over. Good riddance!

3. The holidays! (including my birthday)
The holidays during fall are the best. Halloween, my birthday, and Thanksgiving, the best! I like Halloween, yes. Don't tell any other Christians though, I might get stupid e-mails. Anyway, I think I like Halloween mainly because of the weather and mysterious aura, but also cause you get to see cute kids in fun costumes come up to your door, and then you get to spray them with the water hose. (I don't do that, really.) My birthday is the best because, well, it's mine, duh. And Thanksgiving, ahh the holiday of eating. You get together with your entire family, and have this enormous meal at 3 in the afternoon (because apparantly dinner starts earlier on holidays) and then sit around being lazy, waiting for dessert to come around so you can eat even more! And the food is amazing in itself, it just doesn't get any better than Thanksgiving.

2. My best romances and girlfriends
Spring may be the season of love for everyone else, but it's fall for me. Everyone of my more memorable and most wonderful girlfriends were in the fall. Amber, Erin, Tracy. The big 3 everyone, give em a round of applause.
Amber was my first real girlfriend, back in my junior and senior year of highschool. I used to take the blue bus a couple towns over to her house to see her all the time cause I didn't have a license yet. I always listened to DC Talk - Supernatural and so that cd reminds me of her and of the fall. Whenever I smell the fall, I often think of those walks to the bus, and from the bus to her house. My dad used to get pissed cause we would take a walk somewhere and be late coming back to her house just cause we wanted 5 more minutes. Wonderful wonderful times amidst a hellstorm.
Erin was the girlfriend I got along with the best. She was 12 years older than me and wow did she look good. A constant jogger and kickboxer, long blonde hair, brown eyes, tan skin, a knockout. I met her in spanish class and would help her with the assignments at her house. I remember the first time I called her was just after she had wisdom teeth taken out and it was her birthday, October 30th. We stayed up one night til about 4 am just to see a meteor shower, and she had never seen one before. Great times, great girl.
Tracy was my last girlfriend. She too was and is a beautiful girl. She has brown curly hair with highlights, gorgeous blue eyes, a great body, and an even better smile. I met her at the restaurant I worked at and asked her enough times to go to dessert that she finally caved, and boy was I happy. She inspired the movie I'm writing right now with my favorite scene in it straight from real life. We were at a little playground near her house at night just swinging on the swings and talking. That's when I first told her I liked her, and I gave her a piggy back ride back to my car as she held on tightly. Guess what sweater I was wearing. :-)

*Drum roll please*
And the number one reason...

FOOTBALL!!!
Ladies, I love you all and you provide the most and best memories I have of fall and of anything, but football is football baby. My heart is stolen when that pigskin gets brought out. You can't top football. A bunch of men in pads hitting the crap out of each other in the outdoors, rain or shine, the way sports are MEANT to be played. Pay attention you sissy pants baseball players who can't play in the rain or lightening or anything, you pansies. (You're probably all French.) Football is only a 16 game season, so EVERY game counts. And it's the only one of the major sports where the playoffs are one game only, not a 7 game series. Sunday's are football, the day becomes the sport. You go to church (unless you're a heathen! haha) and come home to change and sit in front of the TV until late night, watching nothing but football. Upsets happen, teams come out of nowhere, players rise to greatness, and fall to mediocrity! Champions are crowned, losers go home beaten and battered, and in the heat of the battle of the gridiron, men are born.
That is why football is number one. If the ladies can don the padding and cleats, and run with the NFL, then I move them immediately to #1. Until then, football reigns supreme, and its season, is Fall.

Fall and Ideas

Ok, so I realize that my frog story got away like a greased hyena, but I enjoyed writing it and read it after I was done. Hopefully not everyone was scared off by the girth of both entries. So again, if you actually read both, thanks! If you didn't, I understand. Please leave your address so I can send you a pipe bomb. We good now? K.
I left the house today around 9:45 am, my normal time, and instead of feeling unpleasant when I walked outside, it was delightfully cool and breezy, it reminded me much of: Fall. Fall is my favorite season. (then winter, spring, and last, yucky summer. I know I'm a freak.) Fall smells good, fall looks good, and as far as I've found, it tastes pretty damn good too. There's that crisp breeze that blows by and makes you question whether or not to bring the heavy sweatshirt or jacket. The leaves, in their colored regalia, wave around with life, and give off a fresh smell, an indescribable smell. The sky clouds over quite often, but rarely threatens with a thundershower. Do you know why I like clouds more than blue sky? You can see texture in the clouds, it has movement, shades, there's life in the clouds. Blue sky is blue. I LOVE FALL, and going outside right now, when the temperature is just right, and the breeze blows in the fresh smell of nature.
So anyway, the point of this entire blog was to get response from readers and let them ask questions too and then talk about it. Then something happened, and I had to vent (my first few entries) and then it became fun to just write whatever, and people actually liked it and started reading. So now that I have several readers, I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know what you've been thinking about, what you want to talk about. Tell me! Then I'll write about it; explore answers with you. That was the original intent of this blog, and though I will still write things on my mind and things of interest to me (no more huge stories unless requested), but leave some thoughts, some ideas, some quandries, whatever suits your fancy. Thanks for reading to everyone!

The Wigged Out Frog Part 2

If you haven't read the entry before this,which is Part 1, the second half will make no sense. Not that the story makes much anyway. :-)

The young frog prince hopped down the Path of Trials which wound its way through the White Forest and into the Golden Valley. It was known throughout the land that this path contained many strange creatures, both dangerous and slightly annoying. The prince, dead set on his decision, courageously continued down the treacherous path. All of a sudden, something jumped out of the thick woods and onto the path in front of him. It was a tall, thin springy character with rainbow colored clothing and blue hair. It jumped up and down on the trail as it yelled:
"To pass you must answer,
this question I ask,
but only a minute
is allowed for the task."
The prince stood there, (as much as a frog can stand), waiting to hear the question.
"They call me a man, but I'll never have a wife.
They gave me a body, but I'll never have life.
They gave me a mouth, but I'll never take a breath.
The water gives life, the sun doth give death."
The ridiculous bouncing character continues to bounce on the overgrown path, waiting for the small frog to answer his riddle in order to pass.
The prince's froggy throat bulged in and out as he breathed and thought.
"What's a matter, got a frog in your throat!?" the springy thing asked and started laughing heinously.
"Snowman," the prince coldly said.
The smile on the character's face fell off and left a look of shock as he stopped hopping around.
"You have proved yourself worthy,
admirable foe,
for answering that riddle,
I give you passage to go."
He hopped out of the way and let the prince pass down the path, and continue his trek through the White Forest.

Several minutes later, he reached the edge of the path to the Golden Valley. The swaying of tall, golden grass, shimmering in the sunlight was within sight, pushing the tired prince to keep going on. Just then, a man in a trench coat and sunglasses jumped out onto the path, right at the edge of the White Forest. He quickly opened the coat up, revealing a myriad of things attached to the inner lining of the coat, including several examples of real Rolexes and authentic diamond bracelets.
"What'll it be mac? What'll it be? I got goods here: nice watches, pretty things for the lady frog at home, special prices today buddy, what'll it be?"
"I'm not interested," the prince flatly said, hoping to pass on by.
The man with the goods stepped in front of the prince, blocking his way.
"Look man, buy something or you don't pass," he stated.
The prince put his, umm, hands on his froggy hips (frogs have hips dammit) and looked up at the ridiculous man with the trenchcoat. He started tapping his right foot and moved his head around as he spoke.
"Look you! I ain't gotta do a damn thing and you gonna let me pass boy, otherwise, I'mma get my posse out hurrrr and get all craaaaazy on yo ass. Don't front on me foo, you don't know who I am. And by the way, how would I hold any amount of currency without a suitable place to hold said monetary things. Does it look like I'm wearing pants?"
"Good point," the man said. He closed his jacket and stepped aside. "Wait, how about a platinum money clip? I'll give it to you if you promise to come back and buy something now that you can hold money."
He kneeled down on the snowy floor of the forest, and clipped the money clip to the prince's 9 strands of hair, giving him a pony tail. The prince took umbrage to the look but realized it would fit nowhere else. He, and his dangling money clip, hopped to the edge of the White Forst, and stood at the precipice of the Golden Valley.
The breeze rocked the tall grass melodically, back and forth, as the sunlight danced with them in unison. The crisp smell of spring found its way to the prince as he inhaled the intoxicating fragrance. He quickly hopped into the light, and into the Golden Valley, where he got his first taste of sunlight, gently caressing his froggy back in delicate warmth. One of his nine hairs, fluttered away in the wind, tickling the prince as it flew away. He quickly turned to see one of his few hairs left, float away, never to be seen again.
"The sunlight must be speeding up my balding process. This is horrible news! I have to hurry or I'll be stuck like this forever!"
He quickly hopped down the beaten path towards the Town of Golden Gates, which wasn't far from the White Forest. As the prince hopped frantically towards the town, money clip bouncing and clanging around, another precious hair fell out of his head.
All in all, he arrived at the Golden Gates with only 5 hairs left, and a money clip that was barely hanging on. Two guards stood at the gates with golden spears and a golden uniform.
"Who goes there?" they boomed.
"I am the prince of the White Forest!" he yelled back.
The guards looked down at the small frog near the gates and laughed, heartily. Just then, a guard from a post, high on the walls, yelled down to the heartily laughing men at the gates.
"You fools! He's got the frozen gold on his back! He is the King of the White Forest!"
The guards immediately stopped laughing and their mouths dropped open as they saw the truth, and the frozen gold on the little frog's back. They threw their spears to the ground and quickly open the gates to the city.
"Technically I'm just the prince," the frog countered.
The guards bowed in respect and showed the frog into town. He hopped behind them as they walked to the tallest building which sat in the middle of town. Another strand of hair fell from his green head and onto the golden street. People from all over town gathered to see who was coming into town and to see the frozen gold which they had never seen before.
Just up ahead, in the tall tower, a beautiful woman with flowing, blonde hair, wearing a golden dress and slippers stepped out of the front door and gracefully walked down the steps and into the street. She was surrounded by body guards as the people flooded in from the surrounding streets to catch a glimpse of her. The prince hopped up to her and she marveled at the money clip attached to his hair.
"I have never seen a more beautiful thing, you truly are the White Forest King."
"Like I told them before, I'm really the prince, but..."
"Why do you make the long trek to our city dear King?" she asked, cutting him off.
"To make a long story short, I'm losing my hair. If I lose all my hair, I will be stuck as a frog forever. But, if I reverse the curse, I can return to my normal form of a homely, er, a dashingly handsome prince."
"Reverse the curse?" she questioned, "didn't you hear that the Red Sox already won the World Series just after defeating the horrid new york yunkees (who don't deserve capital letters) in the biggest sports collapse/choke job of all time?"
"Yeah, I heard about that, I'm talking about my curse," he responded.
"Oh, right," she said.
They stood for a few minutes, reflecting on the fact that the Red Sox won the World Series and humiliated the yankees, who still don't get capital letters.
"So how do you reverse it?" she asked.
"Beats me, got any ideas?" the prince responded.
She kneeled down and picked up the prince in her hands. She gave him a big kiss right on his froggy lips (no tongue). Nothing happened. She set him back down on the street, looking confused.
"Well, I'm all out of ideas," she stated.
"I've got one!" the prince exclaimed. "Get your carriage and your four fastest horses, we're off to the White Forest!"
"Easy there killer, we don't have carriages and horses around here."
"Why, whatever will we do?!"
"How about my Mercedes?" she asked.
"Good enough."
They hopped into the Mercedes and screeched out of the Town of Golden Gates and into the Golden Valley. The princess pushed a button and put the top down, much to the dismay of the frog prince. Another 2 of his hairs flew off from the gusting wind, leaving him only 2 left on his little head. The money clip struggled to hang on. Driving up to the edge of the White Forest, she jumped out of the car with the prince in her hand, and ran up the Path of Trials towards the castle. The trenchcoated man jumped out and opened up his coat of goods. He recognized the frog prince right away.
"You again! Did you bring money to buy something this time? I see you still have the money clip."
"Give me your keys," the prince said to the Golden Princess. "Here are the keys to a brand new Mercedes parked at the edge of the forest. Knock yourself out big boy." The prince tossed the keys to the man, much to the man's surprise.
"For such a truly expensive and awesome gift, I will give you the most prized posession I have." He reached into a hidden pocket in his jacket and pulled out a Swedish made penis enlarger. He quickly pocketed the embarrassing item back in his pocket as the prince and princess pretended not to see. He reached into his other hidden pocket and pulled out a small vial of blue liquid.
"A very old woman dressed in a shawl and hood gave me this in return for a fake baby wrapped in a blanket. She told me it had no use to her, but that someday, a golden girl will come seeking it. Since you're not old and I haven't seen you on TV, I'm guessing that's you."
He hands the princess the vial and she thanks him quickly before running down the path. Nearing the castle, they run accross the springy character who jumps into the pathway.
"It is I again,
with a riddle complex,
it will twist your mind
around your necks."
"I don't have time springy," the prince sternly said. "Here, I'll give you this money clip if you leave me alone."
The prince took the money clip off his flowing locks and held it out for springy. One of the last two hairs pulled out of his head as he took off the money clip.
"You only have one hair left,
and time's running thin,
drink up the potion
the spell will begin."
Springy took the money clip and jumped back in the forest, waiting to pester someone else. The princess dashed up the path and to the front of the castle, where Tony had the doors already open. She ran up to the prince's bedroom and set him down on the bed. She pulled the cork out of the vial and downed the potion in one sip.
"Umm, considering I'm the one who was turned into a frog, shouldn't I have drank that?" the prince questioned.
"Oh, I didn't really think of that. Hmm."
The prince's last hair fell out of his head and slowly fell to the bed, leaving him bald. Just then, a bright white light surrounded both of them, nearly blinding them with it's brilliance. Tony and his two goons ran up the stairs to see what was happening. The light died off as Tony reached the bedroom door, followed closely by Frankie and Louis, who were carrying bats.
"Boss, you want we should get rid of this little problem?" Frankie asked.
"Nah, fugettaboutit. I'll take care of it."
Frankie and Louis shrugged their shoulders as Tony walked into the room and picked up the frog on the floor.
"Boss, I failed you, you are doomed to stay like that forever!" he wailed.
"Tony, I'm up here," the prince said.
"Watch where you're putting your hands buster!" the frog princess yelled.
"I told you I was supposed to drink the potion, now we're both stuck like this," the prince argued.
"Oh don't even start with me, I didn't hear you say anything to stop me!"
"You drank it so fast you lush. My back hurts from carrying that money clip everywhere, give me a back rub!" the prince demanded.
"Excuse me? Give you a back rub? Get real froggy boy, how about some heat in here, it's freezing!" she complained.
"Well, yeah, we're in the White Forest, the place of perpetual winter!"
Tony walked off, leaving the couple to argue.

Later that day, Frankie and Louis returned with a pair of wigs that were placed on the heads of both the prince and princess. Unfortunately, the two goons beat the wigmaker down with their bats for no reason and weren't able to get the proper size wigs for the frogs.
Now, in the castle, the pair of wigs, with frogs underneath, are found to wander the hallways and rooms, trying to get away from each other. Unfortunately, the balcony was still the prince's old favorite spot, and the princess' new favorite spot.
"We should have stayed in the Valley," she started.
"Don't start with me woman!" he said.
"Don't take that tone with me, man!" she yelled back.
"That's it! Frankie! Louis!"

And they lived happily ever after...until Frankie and Louis got there. Then it was just him living happily ever after...you get the idea.

The End.

(If you read the whole story, thanks for reading, I know they're long, but thanks, hope it amused you!)
The D

The Wigged Out Frog

As I was updating my profile, I was asked that random question at the bottom, and it said "The children are waiting! Tell them the story of the bald frog and the wig." So I started writing, and then realized my imagination was going to say WAY more than the room allowed. So I'm turning it into a fun story entry. I didn't really want to write anything cause I just posted something last night, so don't forget to read the entry before this! (and leave 5 comments each). So, this is the story of the bald frog and his wig, off the top of my head and on the fly. (Fly, get it, it's a frog story. I'm so cool)

Once upon a time . . .

There lived a homely looking young prince in a gigantic castle, way way up in the mountains surrounded and engulfed by the White Forest, where it always snowed, and the sun never shined. Every day, the prince would wake up and walk to the balcony outside of his room and look into the Golden Valley below.
"Oh how I wish I could see the Golden Valley and walk through it's golden grass. How I wish to feel the sunshine on my face, and roll down the hills to get grass stains on everything."
He sighed as he put his hands on the railing and continued to gaze longingly at the shimmering land of the valley. His butler Tony walked into the prince's bed chambers with a stack of neatly folded clothing. He set the clothing down on the enormous bed and turned to the prince.
"Here is your clothing for the day your highness."
The boxer clad prince turned quickly, startled by his butler. The top heavy crown he was wearing spun off his head and landed on his foot, causing him to yelp and hop around. The prince picked up his huge crown and placed it back on his quickly balding head.
"Thank you Tony," he said as he walked into his quarters. Tony spins and starts towards the door. "Tony!"
He immediately stops and walks back to the prince.
"Yeah?" he responds.
"Tony, can I ask you something personal?"
"Sure boss, but I don't know nothin."
"You don't know anything Tony, not nothing."
"What, are you saying I'm stupid?"
"Nevermind Tony. Have you ever been to the Golden Valley?" The prince's eyes widened as he leaned in, eagerly anticipating Tony's answer.
"Yeah, I been there."
The crown fell off the prince's head yet again as his imagination ran wild. It harmlessly hit the floor and wobbled to a stand still. The prince self consciously put his hands on his head as Tony turned away. The prince quickly knelt down and picked up the crown. He held it in front of him and looked at his reflection in the gleaming gold facade of the royal head gear. His shiny dome stared back at him, reminding him of his fading hairline. The prince sighed and sat down on the bed next to Tony.
"Tony, I'm losing my hair."
"No, you boss? I hardly noticed."
"Don't bother Tony, it's the truth, and we all know it. I'm losing my youth, strand by strand."
"Did anyone ever tell you about the curse boss?"
"No no, didn't you hear, the RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES LAST YEAR."
"I'm not talking about that even though that was the most amazing event in sports history."
They sat for a good 5 minutes smiling and reflecting on the World Series Champion Boston Red Sox.
"So anyway, the curse I'm talking about. Many years ago, while you were in your mother's womb, a frail old man came calling during a blinding snow storm. He knocked on the door as hard as he could, but no one would answer. Eventually, he pushed with all his strength, and the heavy doors swung open, revealing the posh interior of the warm castle."

"Hello?" the fragile man called out.
Tony skipped down the stairs to see the geriatric standing in the foyer.
"Please, may I seek shelter in your castle. This frigid cold is going to kill me if I don't get some warmth," the old man said, shivering in the bitter cold.
"You realize you're letting in a draft," Tony responded. "If you don't walk out and close that damn door, we're gonna have issues my friend, capisce?"
"Kind sir, I just need a night to regain..."
"Frankie, Louis, come down here," Tony yelled out.
Two large Italian men rumble down the stairs carrying large wooden baseball bats.
"I'll give you 3 more seconds old man," Tony warned. "3, 2, 1." He paused for effect. "Boys?"
The large men carried the man outside where they hit him repeatedly with the bats. The man's bones were brittle from age and the cold, so they shattered at the slightest touch, making the job easier on Frankie and Louis. After their batting practice, they left the bats outside and came in to the cozy warmth of shelter and went back to bed.
Hours later, at midnight, another persistant knock came at the door. Tony, up counting money, set down his stack of Benjamin's and opened up the door. Standing outside was a pale, emaciated woman in a long black shawl and hood, holding a wrapped up baby in her arms. Behind the woman were the wolves eating the old man.
"What the hell do you want lady?" Tony politely asked.
She raised her hand and pointed a bony finger at Tony, standing in the doorway.
"You have spinach in your teeth," she told him.
"Oh, thanks, scuse me for a second." Tony picked his teeth and removed the unsightly spinach. "So now what do you want?"
"I want you to let me live in this castle. In return, I will give you this baby to raise as your own, and I will help with chores around the castle, but I don't do windows."
Tony placed his hands on the womans shoulders and turned her the opposite way.
"See what the wolves are eating?"
"I can't quite make it out," she responded.
"Let me make it easy for you, he wanted shelter too."
The woman snapped around and glared at Tony, though he didn't know it cause the hood kept her face shadowed. The hood slowly started to fall off as the woman spoke, this time in a much more forceful voice, almost demonic like.
"Listen pudgy, if you don't let me live here, a horrible curse will come down on the first born of the lady of the castle. He will start to go bald!"
"No, don't you dare!" Tony screamed.
"Oh there's more spanky." The hood was almost all the way off revealed her gray face and sunken in features. She looked like death's mistress. "On his 20th birthday, he will become a frog. And when the last hair from his froggy head falls out, he will be stuck in that state...forever!"
"What, did you get that from Beauty and the Beast?" Tony questioned.
"Huh? No, I don't have cable or a TV."
"Oh. Ok, so is that it?"
"Yeah, pretty much," she said.
"Well, in that case, I think I can accomodate you for the rest of your life. Frankie! Louis! Come down here and help this wonderful woman with her things!"
"I don't have anything to bring in," she said. "This baby isn't even real, I just use it for sympathy."
"Yeah yeah lady, stay right there."

Tony turned to the prince but couldn't see him.
"Boss? Hey, where'd you go?"
"I'm down here," the prince said.
Tony looked down to see the prince still on the bed.
"Oh, Happy 20th Birthday sir."
"Thanks Tony."
"So there it is, there's the curse."
"Well how do we reverse it?" the prince asked.
"Hmm, good question, I'm not too sure. I couldn't hear what she was saying over the bats. Guess I should have asked huh?"
"Well that's a shame. Well whatever it is, I'm sure it has to do with the Golden Valley. So that is where I will head."
The prince hopped off the bed and onto the floor. His flowing mane of 9 more hairs trailed him as he hopped out of the room and down the stairs to the front door. Tony quickly followed him, making sure not to step on his coiffe.
"Tony, thank you for telling me all of this. Somehow, I'm going to find out how to turn me back into an average looking prince. Hey, can you open the door?"
The frog prince then hopped outside into the world of snow, set on journeying to the Golden Valley to find his answers, and find his hope.

To Be Continued . . .

My own writing, Part 1

I said that I wanted to post some of my own original writing in order to give you all a taste for how I write outside of this blog. Now, my main focus in writing right now is screenplays, with a dash of kid's books every so often. I obviously can't post an entire screenplay, that would be waaaaay too big, and the children's books probably would be as well. So, I will have to keep it to poems and songs and thoughts/musings. It still gives a decent reflection of my writing style and thoughts. Enjoy, and please, feel free to leave comments about what you think. I'm only mean to people who leave comments without a name/initial and are ignorant and other things. (See my last post's comments):

Untitled

I cannot think.
It is not true that I am unable to think at all,
but truth that I cannot contain concentration.
A blue velvety fog has spread across my mind,
a parasitic picnic blanket
trained to cover me up,
as thoughts scamper around the fields of imagination,
stopping to touch the thorns and sunlight
along the way.
Yet each thought that finds it's way to my hand,
confidently makes no sense at all,
like a bloated politician
with a quarter in each ear,
and a cloud in each eye.
If only my hand could lift me,
higher,
to sip on the nectar of heaven,
to tap into the secrets of the cosmos.
But no,
it is weighted down by my iron pen,
held down by the strings of words,
and sense.
I cannot
think.
I cannot create the world
in which little boys run
with feathers of delight in their hands,
as they chase the invisible winds
with merriment.
No,
my world is simply a blank canvas,
waiting for the next pint of inspiration,
to create my world,
painting by painting,
everyone a masterpiece in themselves,
but like a single cloud
in a tumultuous sky of thunder;
incomplete.


By the way, this will be one of only a handful of poems that don't rhyme. I hate writing poetry that doesn't rhyme. The reason it is spaced like that and certain phrases/words are on different lines is because when you read it, you're supposed to pause at the end of each line, so there actually is a method to the madness that is: unrhyming poetry. Also, in addition to the multitude of comments everyone will leave about their thoughts on this (clearing throat), feel free to leave requests about certain types of writing, and if I happen to have writing that fits your request, I will post it up. Take care now, bye bye then.

Woe is The D

I come to you, humbled by my own humanity; shamed by my actions. Woe, I say woe, is The D. My roommate Matthew and I went to a comedy show last night to see Brian Regan. If you have not heard of this man, I urge you to visit his website and buy something, seriously, he's one of the funniest comics I've ever heard and it's all clean. Great stuff. Anyway. So we stop at a restaurant (cue scary music) and sit down at a booth. I open the menu and am confronted by a myriad of diet-busting dinnahs (for you Boston residents) and I caved. (I had a "French Dip" which is a sandwich. Damn the French.) Heap insults on me fellow readers! Bring thy wrath upon me, for I am scum, and my name is, The D. Woe is me. But! There is a small light at the end of my calorie induced tunnel: I was way under my calorie/carb/everything consumption for the day. I had only eaten about 700 calories at that point, so even with a dinner, which wasn't all that bad, I'm still under my calorie ceiling. So it's not too bad. I make no excuses however and expect to have a storm of angry readers rain down their displeasure.
Other than that, I have nothing much to say. We saw an amazing spectacle of lightening last night on the ride home, absolutely incredible. Tomorrow I'm going to post something I've written outside of this blog, just because I want to put some of my own stuff on here, so maybe I'll make that a weekly thing on Sundays.

I also realized that I'm a pretty messed up person last night. I don't enjoy being happy for too long. Isn't that weird? But, it's not that I don't enjoy being happy, it's that I don't enjoy being happy when I don't feel fulfilled. I've been single for a while, and I'm not saying that if I had a girlfriend I'd be fulfilled, but I would then have someone to share that happiness with, which would fulfill me. I wrote in my Loneliness blog that there are reasons why people are lonely, and scared of being lonely, and my reason was that I want someone to share with. I want to share my life, my ideas, my creativity, my stories, my happy times, my tears, just everything with someone, and I almost feel empty when I'm happy without having someone to share it with. What good is it to me if I can't let someone else have some or share in it? But depression, that's something I don't necessarily want to share with someone else, so when it hits, I can just take it all in and it's all mine. It fills me up I guess. I'm not trying to get rid of it and so I hold onto it because at least it fills me up. I've gone through the last couple days pretty happy and energized and feeling good, but I feel like I'd rather be depressed right now. I feel uncomfortable being happy. I like rainy days, cloudy days. I like the nighttime better than the day. Even my writing is better when I'm depressed, the words carry so much more weight and flow out of their dungeon with intense emotion. I can't imagine that this is a good thing. Well, let me re-word that. I can't imagine anyone would think that this is a good thing. Perhaps for me it is. Perhaps.

Spank the Diet, The Villain and Rodrigo

My diet came up to me and said, "You don't scare me boy." So I smacked it in the face and told it to step off! On the bad side, this diet is making me crazy.
Ok, but seriously, I stuck to it, and there were a couple times that I was a little antsy to snack on something, but I did it, and I went and worked out for an hour, and I feel good today.
The slightly disturbing part is that I barely ate 1000 calories. I didn't mean to eat that few, but when I added them up at the end of the day, and then subtracted the 200 cals from running, it was barely at 1000. From what I've heard, yeah, that's no good. Anyway.
I'm going to start a new segment on my blog starting Monday morning. Every week I'm going to do this segment, and if it actually gets popular, I may do it more than once a week. I'm not going to tell you now, you'll just have to come back on Monday to see. (Feel free to come back many more times before then and leave lots of comments though.)
Recently, I watched the movie "Bad Boys II". Now, I had never seen the first one, so I didn't really know what I was in for. It was WAY too long, and the car chase scenes were way overdone and completely, utterly unrealistic. But this is the most annoying part, and it's a standard in all action movies. The villain boss. When the villain boss is younger, just aspiring to be a fiend, and faithfully attending all his scoundrelish (it's a word now) classes, he eventually has a meeting with a left hand man. (See, if they're good, they're a right hand man. But this one is evil, therefore a left hand man. I know this stuff) Here's the conversation. V for Villain, L for left hand man.

V - "Rodrigo! (that's his name now) We need to talk!"
L - "Yes boss. What can I do?"
V - "I need some men Rodrigo." He now puts his hand on Rodrigo's shoulder, intending to talk closer so no one else will hear. Why? I don't know, they're at a villain college. (Yeah, it's a college now. You want some of this? I'm on a diet baby!)
L - "Of course boss, I will go to the shooting range and find the best marksmen I..."
V - "No! Rodrigo! You idiot!" He slaps Rodrigo on the back of the head and points at him. "You go and find me the people who graduate last. I want incompetence you fool!"
L - "But boss, shouldn't we get capable peons at least?"
V - "Do you dare contradict me Rodrigo?!"
Rodrigo cowers, anticipating another savage bitch slap to the back of the head.
L - "No boss, no, of course not. But you've seen the movies boss, if we get people like that, the good guys will win, and that's so annoying."
V - Is now seething and spit is seeping through his tightened lips. He pulls Rodrigo close.
L - "Boss, did you just have guacamole?"
V - "LISTEN HERE RODRIGO. (Caps makes it look forceful) YOU GO FIND THE STUPIDEST, MOST INCOMPETENT AND UNCOORDINATED OAFS YOU CAN FIND."
L - Trembling. "Yes boss."
V - "And if they're blind? Even better!" Insert evil laugh here.

End Scene.
Yes, I know I deserve an Oscar, but I try to remain humble. See, that conversation always happens, and that's why so many action movies SUCK. (I really didn't have much to write today)

OH, READ THIS. I do write movies though, and am currently writing one. One of the bigger characters has a song that she whistles or hums quite often and that's how the main character recognizes her. It's a pretty important part, and I can't think of a good song. In the story, it's a song that her mother used to sing to her before bedtime. (Her mother's not around anymore) SO, leave comments with suggestions on songs I could use. If someone gives a good one and I use it, I will write your name somewhere into the script, so leave your FULL NAME too. (Somehow I'm going to break 10 comments one of these days and I'll feel special.)

A body to diet for

Ok, got a few thoughts before I get to the main point.

Speed limits. How long would it take for you to get annoyed, even pissed off, at the guy in front of you driving several mph under the speed limit? 2, maybe 5 seconds? Point is, the speed limit is the maximum you're allowed to drive, not a suggestion of how fast you should drive. Heaven forbid someone should slow down and enjoy the scenery and drive a whole 5 mph under the limit. They'd friggin get run off the road. Just interesting how everyone pushes everyone else to go as fast as you can. Kind of like work and the american way of life. ANYWAY.

So a couple days ago, some anonymous pansy left me a stupid comment and didn't leave a name or even an initial. (If you are reading this and know I'm talking about you, you're a big wuss and I'm trying to keep it clean for any kids reading this. Why would parents let their kids read this?? Don't you love your kids??!) I wish I hadn't deleted the comment so I could paste it in here, but here's the gist of it:
"You don't know who I am, but I read your blog and you sound like a really depressed and very insecure person. You are someone who just loafs through life, and if you keep talking and writing this way, no girl will ever be attracted to you because they don't want someone like you. I feel sorry for you. And if you don't like someone saying something about your halloween costume, then don't talk to them."
I can't do the stupidity justice with a summation, but there you go. And to make it even more precious, this person left the comment on my Mom and Dad entry. Classy. Let me lay some rules down for comments.
1. If you're going to leave a comment, make it have something to do with that entry, give it a shot, really.
2. If you don't know me, don't assume you do now that you've read my blog. If you do know me, then you're life has been richly blessed and you consider yourself a very lucky person and you consider me a sort of angel (ok i'm going to stop this before it gets out of hand) :-)
3. Don't leave a comment without leaving a name or at least an initial.
4. Don't be dumb like that other person.

Ok. I've aired out my grievances. (It's not festivus is it?)
To the main item! Simply put, I'm overweight. I contest that I've gotten fat, but my roommate keeps saying I haven't. I think he's just being nice. What a nice guy. Go see his blog too. I've developed a little paunch and it's really starting to get to me now. So armed with a gym membership, a dedication and commitment to getting back in shape, and um, well I guess that's all I'm armed with. So I'm going to keep track of everything here on my blog in addition to my normal postings. Don't worry, you won't lose any of the wonderful writings of The D during my weight loss fun time. (I'm trying to keep this happy so I don't think about diets. Yucky.) By the way, someone just said to me "I'm surprised your eyes don't look like roadmaps" in response to me being at a computer all day. Does that make sense? I think I'm going to go kick this man now.
Ok, so I'm back. He's on the floor writhing in pain (not really). If I cheat on the diet, or don't go to the gym when I'm supposed to, I'll have to write it on here and listen to all the disappointed comments. I weigh 215 lbs. right now, and I'm 6 feet tall. My goal is to be down to 195-200 lbs. by October 1st. I'd also like to remain at 6 feet tall, that'd be keen. So there it is. From now until Octubre first (I'm so spanish), I will keep my diet doings on here for all to see and follow. Feel free to write nice comments like "D, you're not fat, you're the best looking man I've ever seen!" and "D, I want to contribute lots of money to your losing weight cause and set you up with my supermodel cousin."
She's paying though, I mean, c'mon, she's a supermodel.

Little Stewart, and perspective

Stewart is a young boy from a small town. He regularly gets B's and B+'s except for science, where he excels way beyond the classroom average. Science has always been his passion; and space has been his Muse. He would regularly push his 9 o'clock bedtime just to catch a few more looks into the starry sky with the telescope his parents bought him for his 10th birthday. His bright blue eyes would sparkle at the mention of going to the planetarium two towns over. Every other week, when he saved his allowance up diligently, he would run down to a local variety store to buy just a few more glow in the dark stars. He wanted to put every one up on his ceiling until he had completed all the constellations he knew; which was all of them. His voice would bubble over with excitement as he sat on his father's shoulders, getting the star on the ceiling exactly right, and then tell his dad all about the constellation he just finished putting up.

There was a slightly unseasonable chill in the air on this particular September night. Stewart sat there, unable to do much else but enjoy the view of the stars; not that he would even think of doing anything else on a clear night. He could only see a handful of them, but knew enough that he was looking at the Big Dipper. He smiled, running through all the things he had learned about that constellation. He bowed his head and clasped his small fingers together on his lap as he sat there.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this view. Thank you for these stars that you made and for letting me enjoy them like this."

Stewart looked down at his watch and pushed the light button to see what time it was. It was only three in the afternoon. He stared at his watch intently, slowly losing the smile he had been wearing. He quickly looked around at everything the small light had illuminated. The light shut off suddenly. His mind rose back to the stars above him, and his smile returned.

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Perspective is an interesting thing. I'm not talking about a viewing angle of something, or how you were standing when you were watching something or anything like that. I'm talking about perspective in life. Perspective changes how you perceive everything that either happens to you or everything you have.

I recently had the pleasure of going down to Long Island NY, where I grew up, to visit my family and my uncle on his 70th birthday. (I'm only 23 by the way, and Happy Birthday Uncle David!) So anyway, I woke up way, way too early on Friday morning, and made my two hour trek down to Connecticut where I caught an early ferry to long island. Let me just say that going from a small town in Massachusetts (or even Connecticut for that matter) to "The Hamptons" on eastern Long Island, is a HUGE difference, and I'm even used to the Hamptons during the summer. Everything is more expensive. You will see the newest and best of cars that are on the market. The nicest and most chic fashion boutiques line the 4 street town of Southampton. You will see "success" everywhere around you. (By the way, I drive a 98 Mazda and I'm not anywhere near rich...yet) During my first day, we went out on a boat that my uncle borrowed from a guy he knew. We went for a cruise around the bays and anchored in a serene lagoon area where we had a quiet dinner of chicken and various salads, while laughing and talking and just having a wonderful time. Saturday consisted of waking up around 10, playing 9 holes of golf, and then driving to my uncle's house to have dinner with everyone, which again proved to be a more than eventful and amusing evening. At 9:30 at night, I was lying in a hammock, 50 feet from the water, watching fireworks light up the slightly cloudy sky. Sunday morning, I sang at my church, which is quickly becoming a tradition, (It was an arrangement of 'Just As I Am') and then went to lunch with the organist, who by the way, is an amazing pianist and organist. I left there and drove to a friend's house to see his very cute 2 year old son (who was splashing in the backyard pool naked. Perfect time for blackmail pictures) Not much later, my parents and I drove to dinner, where we sat out on a balcony over, actually over the water and sipped wine while enjoying a wonderful dinner. That was my weekend in a nutshell. (Anyone see Austin Powers? C’mon, the nutshell joke thing. “How did I get into this nutshell? Anyone?)

Periodically, during the boat ride, the golf round, the dinner, the fireworks, and the riverside dining, I would mention how lucky we were, or that this is what life is all about. Coming from the Hamptons, and being surrounded by material success, can almost brainwash you a little into thinking that this is what life is about: $200,000 cars and 100 foot yachts with a guy who's job is to clean the huge chrome letters of the ship's name, seriously. This is not the first time I've had this "epiphany", I just felt compelled to share this particular one with all of you; all 4 of you :-) How many times do we complain about something, without being thankful to have something to complain about? (I'll give you a second to read that sentence again, seriously, read it again) I complain, to myself, all the time about this annoying rattle in my car. But how many people have a reliable car that they outright own to even complain about? I complain sometimes when a website takes longer than 3.8 seconds to load on my cable internet at home and at work. How luck I am to have it, not only a computer that's relatively decent, but the assets to have a cable connection. I'm lucky to have a decent paying job to go to everyday. There are thousands of things that we could be thankful for, but we too often take them for granted and complain about these gifts and things we have. I'm not saying we shouldn't strive for more. By all means, you should try to obtain what you want, and pursue happiness in a decent an honest way. The best of luck to you my friend. Just don't forget, to be thankful for what you have.

------------------------------------------------

Stewart continued to wait for the stars to pass by his view so he could look at some new ones. Hours went by before he could finally see some new stars. He lit up when he recognized the constellation he had just put up on his ceiling while sitting on his dad's shoulders. He mentioned to himself that it was named from Greek mythology, and kept himself occupied with his imagination. He bowed his head again and thanked God for the wonderful stars, and the even more wonderful view.

Two days later, the rescue team found Stewart, cold, hungry, thirsty, but still smiling. He had spent his time at the bottom of the well just a few hundred yards from his house in the field that had been abandoned for several years. His father, embracing him tightly, laid his son into bed that night. Stewart’s mother sat on the edge of the bed, just glad to lay eyes on her beloved child again. His father looked at his son, trying to keep his eyes from tearing over.

"Dad, I saw Aries, the one we just put up on my ceiling. It was so beautiful and bright without any other lights coming in." His cleaned up face glowed like the watch in the well.

His father smiled with immense joy. He leaned over and softly kissed his son's forehead and gently stroked his soft brown hair. He got up as Stewart’s mother leaned over to kiss him too. They walked to the doorway and flipped off the light. The stars on the ceiling glowed brightly in the now dark room, and his father looked up to see the constellation he had just helped put up.

"Goodnight Stewart." They closed the door and went to bed.

Stewart turned over on his stomach, closed his eyes, folded his hands, and bowed his head under the stars above.

Goodnight All,
The D.

(By the way, don't write me any comments about it being 3 in the afternoon, so he wouldn't be able to see the stars. At the bottom of an average well, the angle of the light is such that it never reaches the bottom, so you can see the stars virtually all day. Only when the sun is DIRECTLY over the well can you see the light. So there. :-P )

Mom and Dad

There's no real reason why I wanted to write this entry at this particular time. It's neither of their birthdays, and their anniversary is in September; the 6th to be exact. (I bet you thought I didn't remember) I would just like to write a bit to them and express things I've thought or felt over the years.

To Dad - What can I say about a man I admire and respect so much. You've taught me so many things about so many subjects, and taught me more about being a man than anything. You made me strive to be better by not giving me all the answers. I would come up to you and ask you how to spell a word, and your immediate response was always: "Give it a try." I kept giving it a try until I got it right. You taught me to be my own person, to think for myself and not to be afraid to be independent; not to be afraid to take chances and experience life. Perhaps the greatest things I've learned from you are things you didn't realize you were teaching.
Way back in the day, in 91 I think, you got laid off. We went through some rough times, with the recent completion of the new house, internal family issues, and sometimes worst of all, money issues. It was tight, and tighter than I may ever know. I don't know what it's like to go from President of a company to cleaning houses and toilets within a short time, but for any man, it could have been crushing. Let me rephrase that: But for any lesser man, it could have been crushing. For you, it was not. You moved on, did what you had to do and made sure we were ok. You swallowed your pity and pride, and you were a man to a family that needed you. I know that I didn't recognize or know any of these things at the time (even more credit to you for keeping this from being a cancer in the family), but I do now. You're a man built with integrity, bravery (for your armed forces service to which we are all grateful and indebted), honesty, intelligence, and kindness. Above all these things, you are my father, something I will forever be proud of.

To Mom - I doubt I know a kinder or more loving heart than yours. For someone who doesn't have much of an education, you keep surprising me with how much you can do; and how well you can do it. (Most recently with your photography) Your commitment to our family was often the glue that held us together when we seemed separated by long distances, both physically and emotionally. Your subtle strength never came through unless you looked hard. I remember you being the boy scout leader/helper for so long, dealing with comments and looks from your male counterparts and scouts. You stuck with it knowing that there was no reason you shouldn't be allowed to be there, and that took a lot of guts. You once told me a story from our hard times when we barely scraped by:
We were at the supermarket just getting the bare essentials that we could afford. After paying the cashier, she handed you the change with a smile, not knowing that it was probably all we had. You counted the change, probably twice, and realized that it was the exact amount I needed for something at school. That was the first thing you thought, not, "Hey, we have some money left over for this or this." Your selflessness and sacrifice for the good of others is a quality rarely seen in today's "me first" society, and a quality I aspire to match on a level even close to yours.
You were the woman who sat on my bed with me, night after night, through some of the toughest times of my very young life, doing whatever you could to make things better. You were the woman who so many times gave up what you wanted so I or someone else could have something. They say behind every great man is a strong woman. I say: Behind every strong family, is a great mother. Thank you for being that great mother.

To you both - There were many times in my childhood (as many can relate I'm sure) where I told myself that I wouldn't grow up to be like you. I would be a different parent when I had a kid; a better parent. Only now do I realize how foolish I was, and how lucky I would be to grow up just like you. I love you both more than these little black letters could ever show or explain. Thank you for my life and who you were and are during it.

- Darrell

The Mirror Truth

The sunlight broke through the shades too early this morning, beckoning him to try it again. The heavy blankets held down a heavier heart, persuading him otherwise. He stared at the ceiling, watching his fear circle like vultures, waiting for the aftermath. He looked to the door; the door that was almost always closed. With a fling of courage, he tossed the sheets to the side, and his reservations with them. The carpet softened the blow as he swung his legs out into the room and stood up. He quickly rubbed his eyes and let them open again to the same reality he hoped to escape.
It's only 5 or 6 steps, he thought.
He lost track at 3, dreading the end of that walk, rather than the steps themselves. The door knob was like a boulder, scraping against his hand with it's cold and careless facade. One small push towards freedom; only a door swing to desperation. His image stared at him as though they had never met. It was ashamed of him, fighting to get away. And there he stood, for another morning, staring at the only thing that disgusted him so; and the only one who could change it.

Do what you must do

So, can you figure this one out? Anyone? Raise your hand, c'mon, it's easy! (If you can figure this out, stop reading this immediately, and go get a life, seriously.) I have no idea what that means up there, well, I have a vague idea, but not much at all. If you were given this problem on a piece of paper, how confident are you that you would do well? Speaking for myself and 99.9% of my 3 reader population, I'm going to go with "no confidence whatsoever". Well why do we have no confidence in ourselves? It's simple, we don't know logarithmic calculus. Without knowledge on this particular subject, we have no confidence in it. It's pretty logical don't you think? You're also wondering why I'm doing this. (It has a purpose, really!)
Recently, I was talking to someone about self confidence. She was wondering outloud why she had little of it, and I asked her a couple questions and made some suggestions based on the previous paragraph. (I said something yesterday in my Loneliness entry about people not liking themselves, having no self esteem, confidence.) She asked, "Do I like myself?" I wrote this to her, "You can't like yourself until you know who you are. The question that you should first ask is: "Do I know myself?"
How can you like yourself and have confidence in yourself if you don't even know you? In a world where we run around at a hundred miles an hour (I should have just typed 100 mph) to get things done and make money and move up into the world, we often have little time to ourselves. What precious free time we have is taken up by other things like tv, movies, other people, or myriad things to keep us occupied. And when loneliness is lurking around the corner, we often don't want that alone time. That alone time can be so valuable though, don't fear it. Get to know who you are, in every aspect. Know yourself well, spend some quality time with you.
During my stint in California, I had to take a good, long hard look at who I had become after an incident where I was almost run down by a car. I had become someone obsessed with money, power, and girls (being bluntly honest here, yikes.) and had lost my decency and integrity in that quest. I was living for full hands and an empty heart. I took time alone with myself and didn't like what I saw, but it was something that had to be done.

"Be who you would be; then do what you must do"

Though I have only recently heard this quote, it applies to what happened in every sense. Be who you would be. After realizing that I didn't like myself anymore, I wrote down what kind of qualities I wanted to have as a person. I wrote down who I wanted to be, and I got to know that person. Then do what you must do. From then on, I tried to make every decision as that person. No, this was not a betrayal of who I was, it was a reach for someone better. It took a LONG time, and there were people who doubted I could do it, and even felt pushed away by this change; but it needed to happen. In some ways I am still working through it, several years afterwards.
You can't like yourself until you know who you are. If you don't like what you see, then be who you would be; and do what you must do.

Loneliness

This is the first part of something I've been working on for a little. Chances are, some of the grammar isn't perfect and there may be something spelled wrong, but I wrote this lying in bed with the lights off, so I couldn't see anything I was writing. I would love to hear what you think of it and what you think it conveys. I'm interested in emotional and intellectual reaction. Here goes:
-------------------------------------

Sunlight is much more valuable the darker it gets. Not to say that moonlight isn’t worth anything, it just doesn’t show you as much as the sun does. It doesn’t illuminate the cracks, the corners, the darkest areas we choose to pass by at night. It illuminates enough for us to feel comfortable, and enough to still let us fear.

He stepped out of his car and locked the door before closing it. As he walked down the red brick pathway to the back door, he waved his hands to activate the “automatic” lights. A quick flip through the several keys brought him to the shiny silver one for the back door. The porch light was still off. So was the kitchen light. The keys made the same familiar sound they always did when dropped on the cluttered round wooden table in the kitchen. His footsteps made the same echoing sound in the hallway as he walked to his room, where the carpet wouldn’t echo his loneliness. The leather chair sighed air as he sat down in it after the long day.

The automatic lights outside switched off, waiting for someone else to come and alert them. His monitor flickered on, and the desktop wallpaper of a foreign place came to life. He stared at it like he always had, wishing he could be there to enjoy the lush meadows and rolling hills of Wales. Someday, someday. A few quick keystrokes and the world was brought to his screen. The world, however, must not have an automatic light.

“No e-mail again.” A heavy sigh left his body, falling to the floor under its weight.

The answering machine glowed red in the living room. He had no real purpose for a home phone, considering his cell phone was his closest companion. Perhaps it was just for the sake of having an answering machine. Perhaps it was just for the sake of coming home to a voice, even if that voice nagged all the time with: “No new messages.” It still spoke, and it spoke to him.

Sitting there, watching TV, as he always wound up doing, he couldn’t help but think of what other people did at night; normal people. People who had lives, people who had friends and went to dinner parties, and silent auctions in the church basement to help out with the youth group’s mission trip to Mexico. People had company, they went out to eat, the went to bowling leagues, bars, clubs, even Starbucks. He checked his messages and blankly watched TV.

We all have the darkest spots, the ones that never get illuminated. It’s not that we’re afraid to illuminate them out of fear of what is there; rather, we don’t want to shine the light on them and see nothing at all. Anxious excitement, is still excitement.

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So what do you think? My personal favorite is about his footsteps in the hallway and how the carpet in his room wouldn't echo his loneliness. I sometimes wonder what it is about loneliness that tears us all apart so much. Go ask a bunch of people what they fear the most, and chances are, the majority of the answers will be: "Being alone." (Which will just nudge out the oompa loompas from Willy Wonka) Everyone is afraid of it in one sense or another, myself included. But it is in the reason why we fear loneliness that sets us apart. Some don't want to be alone because they live in paranoia of one thing or another, and that other person gives them security. Some don't want to be alone because they want someone to share with (my reason). Others want the affection that another provides. Still some have no confidence they can survive on their own and need some kind of helper. However, under the surface, many people do not want to be alone because they don't like themselves, and instead of looking inside, they look around. This is at the heart of so many other destructive things, addictions, infidelities, being used, etc. It's something everyone at one point or another struggles with, no matter what confidence level they have or appear to have. (I think I'll get into this tomorrow)
So what is your reason? Do you fear being alone? If you do, what is it about loneliness that scares you? Please leave a comment, I'd love to see what you have to say.

Christians and intolerance

So I received an e-mail from a "fellow" christian. She wrote me this e-mail after she saw a picture of me in a halloween costume. (My costume was a huge novelty bag of dunkin donuts coffee that I cut holes in and put on) Her e-mail was as such, verbatim:

"so how can you call you self a believer in Christ, then celebrate a satanic holiday, all hollows eve? if i miss interpreted sorrow, just don't stray away from the truth bro,
see yah"

I won't even get into how poor her english is, that would take all night. This is what i call intolerance, ignorance, and pomposity. I'm not going to write my reaction just yet, I will simply cut and paste exactly what I wrote back to our new friend.

"Just because you wear a costume and get together with people doesn't mean you believe or celebrate something satanic. Do you put decorations on your christmas tree? That is a pagan ritual. So is the easter bunny which i'm sure at one point you were introduced to. Pagan rituals and customs have flooded almost every major holiday. Just because you celebrate them, doesn't mean you support them.
Please, instead of assuming something based on a picture, just ask next time instead, it sounds so much nicer."

To which she responded:

"actually i dont celebrate christmas nor do i have a christmas tree, i rely on God's word, i draw nigh to Christ Jesus and follow his commandments. dude im not hear to to start wit you just strengthen your faith."

Draw nigh, very nice, makes you sound smart, especially when you can't spell here right. So this is what frustrates me about certain christians, among a few other glaring things. Her intolerance is going to push away a lot of people, especially those that aren't christians. Her assumptions about me and why I was wearing a halloween costume, and assuming that my faith needed strengthening was insulting. Apparantly she is much holier than I, why else would she have helped me by sending this e-mail. (This is where my friend sarcasm officially takes over.) I just don't understand this mindset, and if you do, write me a comment and explain it to me. Does anyone else see issues with this exchange? I'm just interested to get feedback on this and share frustration with this christian and her intolerance.
** Let me also say that I am not bashing her beliefs and the fact that she chooses not to celebrate halloween or christmas, that's her prerogative. My criticizing her intolerance and ignorance would be hypocritical if I did the same of her beliefs and choices. I didn't bash her beliefs in my e-mails to her, I pointed out that she knew nothing about me and assumed too much based on a picture, and then eventually told her to stop talking to me and let's just agree to disagree like adults. I just wanted to make that point. **

"Be who you would be, then do what you must do."

Idiot homeowners

ahem.
There once was a man with a gut,
Who drank himself into a rut,
Yes vodka and ice,
were his number one vice,
But fat made up much of his butt.


Ok, so for everyone who doesn't know (gosh I hope this gets popular so that comment actually applies), I am a kitchen designer. I design kitchens and cabinetry to fit with certain kitchens, cabinetry colors, and even countertops and flooring to go with the cabinets. That's right, I can do colors, and I'm not gay. (Don't even think about posting a comment, I can read your mind) What I hate is when a homeowner comes in and says something like this, "I need a price on a granite countertop." My first response is, ok, how big is it? Or, do you have a drawing of it? Unfortunately, most don't, so they say no. Then they proceed to tell me how their kitchen is laid out, and using their arms wide open, show me how big the countertop is. Oh yeah, I'll get right on it lady. I know these people aren't used to doing this, but come on, use some common sense. Then, her husband is walking around the showroom, big gut hanging out, sipping on a pepsi he bought next door at the liquor store. (You want to make work more interesting, work next door to a liquore store. That rhymed) So he's walking around, stops in front of something, burps, scratches his protruding belly, and keeps walking as his wife again tries to show me how big the countertop is with her arms. Brilliant.
Over the past few years, I have rapidly begun to lose faith in the intelligence of the human race. No, I haven't been watching Jerry Springer much, I've just been around too many people. I've come to the conclusion that a lot of people are just plain ol' dumb. No offense intended, it's just how it is. Those are the facts Jack. Now you, reading this, you're saying to yourself, "Yeah, a lot of people really are, but I'm not." I won't contest it cause I don't know you, but if you ever come into the showroom with your arms open (not for a hug) looking for a countertop price, you're walking out with a fancy new name tag. (And if you can't figure out what that name tag would probably say, yes, you are dumb.)

College, Dunkin Donuts, and cold butter.

What a crappy morning. This morning has sucked, huge. I wake up early to go to the community college not too far away in order to sign up for a summer class in Creative Writing. I'm very excited to get around other "writers" and share ideas while being shared to as well. I go to sign up, and she asks if I did the pre-requisite. I asked her what it was for this particular Creative Writing class, and she said Comp 1. I told her that I didn't have to take any english classes at Gordon (the first college I went to) because my AP credit from highschool qualified. She said it's not good enough. So, getting annoyed, I asked if I could just audit the class. I told her I'll pay for it, I don't want any credit, I just want to write. She said, without the pre-requisite you can't get in. So I asked one last time, is there any way I can take this class? She said, no. So I gave her my best "I'm really pissed at you" look and stormed out. I was pissed too. I've taken classes at other community colleges and it's never, ever been a problem. I understand that with many classes, a pre-requisite is necessary to make sure you're up to speed, and is needed in many cases. However, if I'm auditing the course for NO credit, what difference does it make, especially a creative writing course, this isn't advanced physics. I'm still pissed and will continue to be for a while. This is incredibley frustrating.
On a good note, I went to Dunkin Donuts afterwards because I had plenty of time after the bumbling college wouldn't let me take a freakin class. (I'm seething) I ordered a blueberry iced coffee (tasty as hell) and a plain bagel, buttered. I get the blueberry iced coffee. I get the bagel. I get 3 small packets of butter that have been sitting in the refrigerator for 3 years and are now ROCK HARD. The bagel isn't even hot, it's maybe luke warm. Where did that phrase come from, luke warm? I need to find this out. Anyway, I walked to the front, cause I was already in a pissed mood from that idiotic buffoon at the college, and I asked the Dunkin lady if they had any butter that wasn't ice cold and unspreadable. She answered, in her thick spanish accent, no. It's tough to have a spanish accent on a two lettered word, but she did it. (applause) So I walked back to my seat, took the butter rock out and tried to spread it around on the bagel.

In bigger vision, I wouldn't complain about these annoyances and frustrations. (I'm still really mad about that college, I may have to write a letter. By the way, isn't it sad when you're only threat is "I'm going to write a letter"?) There were huge explosions in London today and that's really saddening. I've been to London, very nice place. There were celebrating the Olympics and then got bombed the next day, it really drops my heart. I wish we weren't so timid in our strategy towards this war in the middle east. We're holding back and playing by these rules that handcuff us because of world and popular opinion about being nice. Just because we have all these things at our disposal, we shouldn't use them because it's not fair. They fight dirty, and you know what, so should we . . . especially if they give us cold butter.

Random Thoughts

I have a few random thoughts I'll put down so it looks like I'm keeping up with this blog. Things lately have been pretty calm actually, which I desperately needed. Happy fourth of July! It's a bit late, but whatever. I went to a Red Sox game in Fenway, and even though they got killed, it's an amazing atmosphere in Fenway, so it's always good. I also noticed that Mark Bellhorn, the second baseman, is one pizza delivery away from being a porn star. Go to espn.com or si.com and check him out, seriously, one delivery and it's over.
On another note, I've came up with some quotes that I really like. Not everyone is as excited about these as I am, but that's cause they're not cool. haha.

1. What good is tomorrow when I can't love today?
2. I believe in opening the door for a girl, especially if she breaks my heart.
3. Well done is better than well said . . . unless you ordered medium rare. (rim shot!)

Please, keep your fan mail to a minimum.

Last night, I pulled out my blue notebook with about 200 sheets of extra paper in it, all things I've written before. I do this sometimes to read stuff I've done a while ago. I realized one thing, my writing back in the day was so much more loose, more humorous, silly, fun, etc. Now my writing is so much more serious, trying to make a statement or touch someone's soul in some profound way, and I think that's why I've lately had difficulty in coming up with some certain things. My brain automatically thinks that when I start to write, it will be all serious and profound, and I need to do more silly things. I was reading a story about a clown who was the best in town because he had a huge moustache that he could hide things in. I think that's cute, fun, it's nice. So while I was writing it, it turned bad, and he became a drug dealing clown that hid drug paraphernalia in his moustache and was a clown cause then he could attract a young client base. In my mind, that's funny stuff, and it's probably funny to me because I have a strange sense of humor, but that's the stuff I need to do.
*** So here's the deal, I'm going to write limericks every day on here, just to keep my mind in shape and make it smile a little bit. Perhaps I'll write something else at one point that isn't in limerick form, but those are good for now. Feel free and leave suggestions for little poems or limericks and I'll see what I can do. Chances are, I'll get approximately 2 suggestions, but oh well. Oh, and I'm starting the limericks tomorrow, I don't feel like it right now. :-P