With My Own Two Hands

Once again, it’s you

2011-05-04T11:32:00.001-07:00

Last night I reread the 2 posts I wrote for my folks birthdays last year, and honestly, cried. My own words made me sit back and think about how terribly I miss them. Distance and time definitely has that impact on me personally, and I’m sure there are many others who are in that same boat. As I read through what I had written, I reminded myself of lessons learned from them over the years, life lessons that needed to be reminded. I am a creature of habit, often times face down in whatever seems to be important to me at the time, rarely looking up or looking back. I have one speed, go, proceeding without caution, full of hopes and dreams. This speed has landed me some wins and losses over the years, which I’d love to convince myself is more on the winning side than the losing but I’d be lying. The truth is, I love and hate when my birthday comes around.
Love: I’m overwhelmed by the amount of love I receive from the greatest extended family a kid like me could ever wish for, whether it’s on Facebook or Twitter, texts, phone calls and cards. It’s a lot to take in and I appreciate every last one of those contacts. It’s a reminder of who exactly I’ve crossed paths with in this short time I’ve spent living life, and reminds me of all the things we’ve done together. It pretty amazing to be honest, and when I think back I’m blown away that most of us are still alive to tell the tales. (Take a second to remember those of our family that aren’t here today, please) For the little amount of time I’ve spent wandering through this life, the sheer volume of time I’ve spent laughing, crying, hugging, dancing, singing, playing, reading, sharing, eating, drinking, wakeboarding, snowboarding, skating, riding, loving with each of you is nothing but overwhelming. I can’t believe I’ve been so blessed to have all of you in my life.

Also, being that 34 years ago I was born this day, 2 years later, on this same day, at the exact same time, 8:06 am, the world, and I, was blessed with my kid brother. He’s been the biggest pain in the ass for 32 years of my life. Always there like a little brother is supposed to be, allowing me to put him in harms way, listening to my every word as if it were gospel. Of course, that only lasted until he was about 5 or 6, and he finally learned better. He used to tell me, “Someday, I’m gonna be bigger than you and I will kick your ass”. I would laugh it off like any big brother should, and suddenly one day, he was. And although we never came down to blows, we had our moments, like brothers do, but I believed he probably could have kicked my ass, and that just couldn’t happen, little brother beating up big brother. Not in my lifetime. Honestly though, we had a pretty rocky relationship through our teen years, neither one of us ever wanting to give up ground to the other. We both played hard and spoke hard to one another. I don’t think it was until I left for college that I really understood how awesome it was having my brother as my brother. He’s probably one of the most talented people I’ve ever been fortunate enough to know, let alone be related to, and there’s not a moment in my entire life that I haven’t been proud of him. Sincerely, my life is astronomically better because he has been consistent in my life; my true partner in crime, my favorite wingman, my biggest fan, my kid brother. Happy birthday scooter. And never forget who your biggest fan is, cause I will kick your ass if you do.

Hate: There is a part of me that digs in and reminds me of how many failures I’ve really had. This year reminds of 34 years worth of them, and hell, there’s a lot. A lot more than I really want to spend time describing or listing out. Enough however, that I’m beyond humbled most days when I’d rather just smile and shrug it off. Often times I catch myself in the middle of venting all of the things that bother me that even I don’t want to hear it. It only further proves how blessed I am to have the friends and people in my life that I do. I doubt if anyone else consistently verbalized all of the failing hopes and irritations like I do, that they would have many people, if any left to pick them up. Me being me however, I can’t stay away from these thoughts. Really, I don’t want to. They are the part of me that brings me back to reality from the cloud of dreams I often day dream inside of. They are the pain that brings beauty to words and music. The are the darkest parts of me that provide me fuel to be better, grow taller, and be a better man. So again, there’s love and hate inside of that “Hate my birthday” thinking.

Not that I want to walk away from this post on a negative, and maybe it’s really not, I beg your pardon for doing so. I can feel myself rambling and in order for me to get out of my office in time to enjoy the Sounders beating up on DC Untied this afternoon, I must get some actual real work done.

Stay Blessed-

…And because of you, I’m me

2010-10-06T11:52:00.001-07:00

I had planned on writing this over the weekend while I was in the Gorge with friends for the Jack Johnson show. Lack of real internet access, or even 3G coverage from my iPad, prevented even a modest attempt, and for this post, a modest effort doesn’t cut it. When it comes to me and who I am, there’s the single most important woman in my life, the one who gave me life, and who through my entire life, has inspired me to live a better one. Her birthday was this past Saturday, and since I’m horrible at sending cards and flowers, this blog will have to make due.

Next to my grandmother, my mom is one of the toughest women I know. Not tough in the sense that she was tough on me, she’s always been a push over when I cried or begged enough for that toy as a child, but tough in the sense that life was never easy or simple on her. She grew up in essentially a single parent home, losing her father at the age of 6 to a heart attack. My grandmother never remarried, and worked multiple jobs to ensure her family was taken care of, all three of the children. My parents did the exact same thing for their three children, always working as many jobs as they could to ensure we had everything we needed, even when it wasn’t necessary, but desired by one or all of us. I don’t remember my mom ever really saying no to anything I ever asked for that was reasonable, even possibly the unreasonable, but in this moment, I can’t think of any unreasonable request this angel ever asked for. There were times, once on our way to preschool, where I uncovered a bag from K-Mart, whose contents included a brand new He-Man figure that was on my 5 year old wish list. Back in those days, kids didn’t sit in car seats past a certain age, and I was at that age where I was free to roam around the back of my parents Subaru wagon while she drove down the road. She thought she had done a great job of hiding the bag, but as all kids can confess, if it’s in the area, we’ll find it. And on this day, I was Sherlock Holmes, unearthing the bag from deep in the back seat of the yellow wood paneled Subaru. Immediately upon seeing the shiny new figure, I couldn’t conceal my excitement and began questioning my mom as to it’s mysterious presence in the car. She replied as calmly as she could that it was for my cousin, for his birthday, and that I needed to put it back. I pressed, I really wanted it. She must have explained the story 3 or 4 more times before I let the tears fly. My mom, being the softy that she is, gave in, let me have it. I ripped that packaging open just in time to arrive at preschool, where I had to leave my new toy in the car for the day. Maybe she held out just long enough to allow me the opportunity to open it in time to have to put it down on purpose, to teach me a lesson, or maybe it just worked out that way. It would be years later when I recounted the story to her that she admitted that the He-Man really was for me, but for Christmas, which was a few months away. My mom has always been amazing at preplanning things like Christmas gifts, starting months early in order to ensure she had enough money to get everything she had in mind for her kids. Often times, it took months, my folks were never wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. My mom wanted to make sure that her kids had everything they wanted (within reason) on Christmas morning. It’s probably the reason I go crazy with gifts at Christmas and birthdays, getting to see the faces light up when that package finally gets unwrapped. She loves it, and it’s the same reason she let the 5 year old me open that He-Man figure that day. She never wanted her children to hurt and if she had a way to stop that hurting, she’d do it.

When I left for college at 18, my mom was there in the drive way as my dad and I filled up the bed of my pick up with my things, doing what she’s always done when one of her kids was leaving, cry. She pretended to smile as she was excited for my new adventure, but the tears always told the story. Even to this day, 15 years later, she stills cries every time I leave or drop her off at the airport to go home. I’m her first, the baby, and I love that she still misses me everyday, as much as I miss her. She’s always been a protector, even when I didn’t need protecting or want protecting. Anytime she saw me hurt, I know she hurt too. I put her through hell growing up, rarely a time when an emergency room visit wasn’t a half pipe session away, or some girl wasn’t getting busy breaking my heart. Through all of the pains of adolescents, my mom was right there to help me through it. Always calm, always present. I can’t remember a single time where she wasn’t in the stands or on the sidelines at a game, or rushing home from work to make sure I had a ride to practice. Never a time where I needed to be rushed to the hospital for x-rays where she wasn’t the first responder. I always knew that no matter what was wrong, my mom would be there in a heartbeat, and it instilled in me, that same response to everything that goes wrong for someone in my universe. I’ve always known that there was no way I could ever repay the sacrifices my parents made for me and my brother and sister. I’ve just tried to be an example of the man they have raised me to be. Sure, I’ve fallen short plenty of times, I’m human, I make mistakes. But the underlying desire to treat everyone as well as I wanted to be treated came from them. There are plenty of people in the world that can quote me saying things like “you can thank my mom for that” or “my mom would kick my ass if I didn’t” in response to opening a door for someone. Every girlfriend I’ve ever had knows that my mom raised me to respect women and take care of them, as if she was ever present. It’s the things I learned from my mom, and watching my dad with her, that taught me a lot about how to treat other people. Respect and cooperation, partnership and never giving up, regardless of how tough things were.

To my mom I say, thank you, thank you for helping guide me to being the man I am today. I only hope I can continue to be as strong as you have been your entire life. Happy Birthday! I love you

Stay Blessed-

If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be me…

2010-09-13T11:55:00.001-07:00

I just finished reading the 1st chapter of the Artie Lange book, “Too Fat to Fish” on my recent step into the wonderful world of the iPad. It’s an easy read so far and the first pages I read are dedicated to his father and how he shaped the person he became. Today is my dad’s birthday, an amazing father, an inspirational man who’s hard work has never gone unnoticed, and cemented in me a desire to never quit. Possibly to my own detriment at times, but has created in me, a man who isn’t afraid of earning through hard work and thick skin. For as long as I can remember, my dad has killed himself to provide his family every opportunity that they could dream. Always working 12-14 hour days, sometimes at multiple places, and then coming home to mow the lawn and do yard work, or fix a basketball hoop my brother and I tore down while screwing around earlier in the day. Or straight from a hard day of building houses turn a quick shower and then rush me off to baseball practice, where he was also a coach. He wasn’t the easiest coach I ever played for, but he was always the fairest and held me to a standard above all others. It was this man who instilled one of the most important life lessons in me during an all star tournament when I was 14 or 15. We were playing a double headed in this tournament, back to back games in the raging 100 degree heat of Southern Idaho summer. We’d just lost 3-1 in a tough heartbreaking battle and no one seemed poised for a second game. I’d had a passed ball behind the plate that led to the go ahead run, and our eventual loss. While everyone was hustling to find shade for the players to cool down in and get us all hydrated, he looked me in the eyes and told me “you know physical mistakes are ok, it’s the mental mistakes that are not acceptable. Shake it off and go win this next one.” I went 3-4 with 2 RBI’s that next game and we won 7-1. It’s a lesson I’ve carried through every aspect of my life since, whether it be on a ball field or in business. It’s the ability to accept that we will make mistakes and we will fall short if we depend on the physical skill.

I’ve known for a long time that it’s my ability to win the mental game when going head to head with any challenge. I was never the tallest, strongest, smartest kid, or adult, but heart is something else my father taught me, or rather, instilled in me. It was his perseverance, his relentless ability to keep going when the cards were down and things looked bleak, to provide for his family. Of course, he never did any of this alone, he had (and still has) the best wing man he could have along his side in my mother. Not to take anything away from her in who I am, but it’s his birthday today, which means I’ll have lots of expanding to do next month on her birthday. It was their partnership that taught all three of their children that family is more important than anything you can buy, anywhere you can travel, any win. Family is the hub that makes life’s successes and failures mean something. No matter what they were going through, they did it together, for the family, for me and my brother and sister. I have watched my father go through loss after loss of friends, jobs, family, NBA championships, and never once did he throw his hands up, despite every reason to say screw it. He’s just not built that way, and either am I. It’s because of him, that I am who I am today. The same passion in life to provide, to take care of, to fix. I am a fixer because my dad is a fixer. We may not be awesome at it all the time, but there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to make everything whole, every time. I think it takes a lot of heart to take the kind of beatings he’s taken, from early childhood, to bullshit bosses and company politics he refused to play a part in. He never waivered his character, he never shied away from responsibility, he never quit being the greatest father I could have been blessed with. I know he made it a goal to be better than his father was, and always wanted his children to be an even better parent than he was. Somehow, in the three years since my son was born, I keep trying to figure out how I could ever exceed that bar that he set for me. I don’t know if it’s possible, but if you ask him today, he’ll tell you I will find a way, because where there’s a will, there’s a way.

When I graduated high school, he gave me a card that I keep close to this day, 15 years later. It was simple, poignant, and again, life changing. I know it’s been seen by many over the years, and I’m not quite sure who the quote came from, but in my eyes, the words are his. “May you have enough success to keep you eager but enough failure to keep you humble.” Anyone that knows the real me, knows that I love without caution, hurt like I’m dying, and live like there’s no tomorrow. Thank you pops, for being the man to me that I will always hope to become. I love you. Happy birthday old man

Stay Blessed-

With Clear Eyes and a Full Heart

2010-08-18T12:02:00.001-07:00

I’m sitting in a little room with some bossy testers this morning, asking for help on nearly every script they run. I’m doing my best to avoid rolling my eyes or sighing deeply with every question. It’s been fairly uneventful to say the least. All the while, I’ve kept my headphones on with Hailey Williams belting out Paramore song after song. I think I’ve fallen for her voice as my new guilty pleasure. I’ve hardly heard the lyrics, but loving each and every second of this teenage temper tantrum.

It definitely beats my mood around all of the debate regarding the proposed site of a Mosque being built near Ground Zero in New York. New polls hitting the news services this morning show upwards of 70% of people polled in NYC are opposed to it, mainly because of the religious faith of the terrorist cowards that attacked the World Trade Center in 2001. I have to say that I’m appalled at the reactions of Americans opposing a building being erected, since that is all it is, a building. What takes place inside of that building has nothing to do with the acts of a few religious zealot nutbags on September 11th, except that they share the same religious beliefs as the people who seek to build a Mosque. It’s now also a political position as senate and mayoral races are in play in New York, polls are actually showing results of popularity based on a candidates position on the building and it’s location, ridiculous. There’s also the constitutionality argument, which some of these same pollers are all in favor of ignoring for the purpose of refusing to allow this build to happen. Hypocrites I tell you! We, Americans, are in this country because those that came before us, needed to escape religious persecution. It wasn’t business, it wasn’t mans need to conquer, it was to have the freedom to pray as we wanted, to live in a world where religion was allowed to each man and woman. The men who drafted the constitution knew this as well and ensured that religious persecution would not be allowed in this, our America. Now that someone’s feelings are being hurt with a reminder of tragic events with the placement of a building, they are willing to start tearing out pieces of the constitution to fit their needs. It’s a sad day in America folks. I understand the tragedy of events on 9/11, I understand loss and sadness and the anger that comes along. I know what it’s like to be reminded of tragedy and it never gets easier, the sadness and anger stay. Perpetuating that anger and hatred based on someone’s religious beliefs and where they meet doesn’t fix anything. In this entitlement world we’ve built for ourselves, we’ve moved beyond the constitution and it’s inherent rights, we’re tweaking them to fit our needs, and now persecuting others for the same reasons our forefathers left Europe. We’re finding people guilty by association, and not even physical association, but worse and a larger stretch, religious. I’m saddened, I truly am. As a parent who teaches tolerance and acceptance, equality and forgiveness, my son is growing up in a world that I’m starting to no longer recognize. The racial and religious climate has gotten so heated in the past 18 months, that I cannot believe there was ever a time when reasonable people were at the same table to abolish slavery, draft equal rights legislation and even allow women to vote. I’m perplexed by the thousands of openly hateful and racist comments I read in daily articles within the online news resources, not able to understand where these people come from, and how they’ve successfully been able to live in this world with so much bigotry and hatred in their lives. It just doesn’t make sense to me. RARR

That’s my rant for today, and I honestly don’t care if anyone disagrees with me. Maybe if you do, don’t tell me.

Stay blessed-

God Willin’

2010-08-17T12:59:00.001-07:00

It’s a decent Tuesday morning, although I was up all night with my brain in hyper drive. The weather has been exceptional now for going on 5 days straight and looks to be sticking around for awhile. With exceptional Seattle weather comes heat and it’s the type of heat that fills our air conditioning free homes and sticks around through the wee hours of the morning. Not that I’m complaining, how can I, I love hot weather. My ability to sleep in my own bed through said heat spell isn’t as up to speed as my desire is to keep the heat around. So, the past two nights have been tough from a climate perspective, but the last 4 nights have also included excessive brain function suppressing my 6 hour sleep limitation for functional human interaction. This isn’t anything new if you’ve been reading this rag for awhile, I’ve always been overtly aware of my thoughts, especially right before bed. I used to have a deal worked out where there was to be no serious conversation right before bed. I think I need to reinstate that rule internally again.

I’ve snagged a bunch of (new) music in the past couple of weeks and have yet to be disappointed in any of the selections. I’m fairly impulsive when it comes to buying music, someone tells me I’ll like something, I take their word for it, an article calls something a must listen and it’s not in the pop charts, I’m all over it. I am a consumption addict of music, I can never get enough. In the past 3 weeks, these are my top 5 (in no particular order):
1. Dangermau5- “For Lack of a Better Name”
2. Rusko- “O.M.G.!” Dubstep and down tempo stuff, crazy all over the place, need big subs to be heard
3. K-OS- “The Anchorman Mixtape” free DL @http://tour-tv.com/mixtape/
4. Ray Lamantagne- “God Willin and The Creek Don’t Rise” Ray never misses a beat!
5. Avenged Sevenfold- “Nightmare” Awesome from start to finish!

All of them are daily play worthy, grab ‘em immediately!

I hit 90 tweets today, sounds so weird. I never really got the whole twitter thing, but outside influences have pushed me into using the thing. Stuck at 17 followers, need me some more so I don’t feel so ignored in the twitterverse… I didn’t just create a new term, did I? I’m still learning the whole # hash mark and @people thing but hey, it’s the first time I haven’t been an early adopter of something techy/social right? I mean, I was blogging before it was even know as such. I think back then it was still an online journal

Oh well, not a whole lot of inspiring crud falling from my fingers today, sorry folks. I think the restlessness is catching up with me and I may just need some decent sleep tonight to get back to spreading my wisdom… oh, and don’t forget to follow my tweets, hahaha! twitter.com/problemchildry

Stay blessed and enjoy the new tunes!

Repost the Past

2010-07-13T09:43:00.001-07:00

I wrote this about four years ago, and rereading it this morning, was a stark reminder that I needed. Maybe you do too, it’s all about changing the mindset sometimes.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

One Year has Past

"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same" -Anonymous
I started writing about this 40 some odd weeks ago, knowing that no matter what I did, no matter what I tried to do, it would still be on my mind, pouring out of my fingers, running out of my eyes. I knew that I had hit a moment in my life that would forever be remembered. You know there are so many things in this world that mean very little and somehow we as people get so caught up in them. We can talk trash about anyone, argue about the smallest things, say hurtful things in the heat of the moment and for what? What does it all matter in the end?
I've been worrying about that a lot lately, "the end". I know in the last year I've written a few things a long those lines and maybe it's just my internal clock ticking a little louder each year, but I've honestly finally realized how precious this time is that I have. It took losing my closest friend to understand how much I've been afforded in this life of mine. Why do I spend time bitching and moaning about this and that? Why don't I take moments every day to just smell the air, feel the ever present NW Weather on my face? Why not just drive somewhere new, accidentally misses a turn and just go for awhile. Roll the windows down in the cold and just be thankful I'm here?

I've had a year to think about a lot of things and my words of wisdom are as follows:
- If you think it might hurt, do it. There is no reward sweeter than the one thing you risked everything for.
- There is nothing more important than your family and friends. Do your best to repay their support by being better to everyone else in your life.
- There is no shame in asking for help, there is always someone ready to listen. I've always got an ear if you need it. It's cheaper than what I pay my therapist.
- Don't be afraid to cry, it just feels better to let it out. Even I do it
- Let music into your heart and lead your soul, be open to anything, you may find beauty in the strangest of melodies.
- Love bigger than you ever have
- Never ever give in to the darkness
One of the many things I learned from Pat is one of the simplest thoughts that we all ignore far too often, "be sure to try something new every day. You never know when your last day will come." I pray that I have plenty of days to come, I still have a lot of things to do. Make sure you don't waste this time either, go do something. Go snow shoeing, skydiving, bungee jumping. Do something this weekend that you said you'd never do, that you were afraid to try. Remember, pain is temporary, glory is forever. I don't want to die wondering what if, so I'm going to do my damndest not to.

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus

Posted by Ryan Scott at 1:20 PM

Internet Tough Guys

2010-07-13T09:29:00.001-07:00

I miss my daily train ride into the city. Weird for me to think I’d miss having a vehicle at any point to just grab my shit and go at a moments notice. Maybe what it is I miss, is the 35 minutes of sitting down without having to be in control of the destination, where I had a few minutes here and there to write down my thoughts, read the news before getting into the office, or just shut my eyes for an extra precious moments in the morning, or the evening.

I think I could have skipped reading most of the news this morning, or more so, the comments that people leave on news stories. The internet has been an amazing tool for sharing information, and allowing people to have the latest news inside of seconds of it happening. Unfortunately, it’s also allowed for thousands of people at a moments notice, to unleash commentary or opinion, regardless of it’s content. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I cannot believe how many racists exist still in this modern age we live in. I am astonished by the narrow minded, intolerant, and uneducated responses I read. So much so, that I get physically sick thinking that these same people could be the guy sitting in the corner of the 17th floor outside of my office, or the director of the daycare my son spends each and every weekday at, or even you. I’m smart enough to know the character of my friends well enough that I would not suspect any of you to be these same arrogant hate monger internet tough guys spewing nonsense across every news story surrounding our President or the economy. It’s appalling though, and it scares me to know that this is really the “voice” of our country on display for the entire world to read. It also frightens me to think that my son is going to grow up in a world like this, it’s crazy. I never thought it would get worse than it was in the 40’s and 50’s, and somehow, it’s seems that every day, another racist is spewing hate on the news stories within the world of the AP and Yahoo. I am saddened to be sure. We all should be. I’m not quite sure what else to do about this, I get caught up in commenting on these comments, a written argument, that only fuels further hate, with back and forth comments, lots of thumbs down, etc. Arggg,, it’s so frustrating… I think I’ll stop reading the comments section for now…

New music on the iPhone (4):
- Rebelution ‘Bright Side of Life’ Awesome, awesome awesome! A heavy mix of roots reggae meets Sublime with the poetic lyrics of a soul man. I’m digging this album, it’s perfect summer boat music to chill to
- 3Oh!3 ‘Streets of Gold’ I’m not normally into this kind of “poppy club house rock” thing but once in awhile, I guess it’s ok… Don’t shoot the messenger, you’ll either laugh at the witty lines or puke all over it’s nonsense.
- Marco Polo ‘The Stupendous Adventures of Marco Polo’ Hip Hop has been missing ODB and raw Wu Tang for sometime. Seems like most “Hip Hop” albums these days sound a lot like Kanye West running out of ideas for beats, over produced and not original. This Marco Polo album is definitely not that. It’s got a lot of raw old school feeling and some new school progressive beats. You’ll either love it or hate it, it’s not for everyone. I just happen to be into it.

I’m heading to Orange County for the weekend, which is sure to be over too fast, but the optimist in me is going to rock out like I’m 20 again and enjoy every last freekin second of the trip. No fun sponges this weekend, pura vida and livin’ fast… Stoked to see those of you in the OC and won’t think twice about making a fool out of myself, we only live once.

Stay blessed

Tinkered

2010-06-08T14:34:00.001-07:00

I haven’t written in a long time. I’ve just have been busier in the past few months than I can remember being in a very long time. There’s a weird discomfort that’s come over me today that has compelled me to sit down for a few moments and just compose something. I cannot get my arms around it, this feeling of impending gloom or sadness. I don’t know what’s driving it or possibly digging it up. I’ve been stoked on things in life for a while now, haven’t been feeling that depression or anxiousness that pushes me into my shell. I’m a little concerned that maybe, I’ve been ignoring the things that used to eat at me, remaining blind to the parts of life that hurt, and maybe I’ve just haven’t been as happy as I thought I was. That scares me. I don’t think so, I don’t feel as though I’ve been lying to myself about being stoked on me. I don’t tell myself stories and build up my own ego for the sake of getting through the days, that’s just not me, not anymore. Not in a long time. If you’ve read my words over the years, you know intimately that I have no problem sharing my shortcomings, my weaknesses, my fears and feelings. You know that I am proud, yet humbled, and I’m human, hurt like anyone else, I just share it with perfect strangers.For the last 4 or 5 months, I’ve been beyond it; beyond feelings of self doubt, beyond creating explosive situations that bring me to tears. I put aside those insecurities, those things that cause me hurt and suffering, at my own hands, and moved forward.

I haven’t cried in a long time, yet, I haven’t had any pain in which to bring about the tears. Things have been exceptional; work, life, family and friends. As much as work can be exceptional, maybe more so, busy and chaotic and challenging. Food for my professional soul. I’ve spent time travelling for business, seeing friends out of state, going to sporting events, all thanks to work. Not entirely a bad gig! My life outside of work has been enriched by great friends, an amazing child and the satisfaction of being able to provide. I’ve seen my family, some I hadn’t seen in 5 years, and spent time at breakfast and a wedding in the past month. Oh wait, I did cry. At my cousins wedding reception, near the cake, was a picture of my grandmother, along with others passed, as a “wish you were here” shrine of sorts. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn’t hold back how much I still miss her. It reminded me why I hadn’t seen “Aunt Mary” or “Uncle Jim” in 5 years. The last time I had seen them was at her funeral, a hard reminder to say the least. There was some comfort in hugging “Aunt Mary”, she’s my grandma’s sister, and hugging her reminded me so much of hugging Grandma. It was nice. Wrote some new tunes with kid brother that hopefully he can polish into something more than a horribly sung scratch track, it makes me miss living in the same house.

I’ve spent some decent time with friends, never as much as I’d like, definitely not as much as it used to be, but some decent time. We’ve tinkered on my motorcycle, watched movies, shared meals and beverages, laughed ourselves silly, hugged and held on tight.

the awesomeness abounds, and yet…

I started writing this a few hours ago and reading through the words here, I’m already feeling lighter from my memory flashback moment, just wish it was a pinpoint reason for this feeling…

State of being, a juxtaposition

2010-04-12T10:55:00.001-07:00

16 gigs of music and there’s nothing on my iPhone I feel like listening to this morning in my office. I’m constantly pulled back to Aaron Lewis tunes on dark cold days like today. It’s a Monday, the first day of what’s to become 5 weeks of non-stop work focus, the starting line to our first release on this project I’ve been involved with since September of last year. It’s been a rollercoaster lesson in project management, and I can only assume this audience isn’t too keen on hearing all of the ins and outs of how this thing has progressed, I’ll keep it short and simple. It’s been chaos, over and underwhelming at times. It’s been some 65+ hours a week, and a few where I could simply coast. In a nutshell, it’s been intense, and we’re just getting started. We’re scheduled to start UAT (User Acceptance Testing) this week, where we’ll do everything we can to break the system, make sure everything we’ve built works as designed, and anything we break, fix before we roll it out live the first week of May. I’ll be heading to Dallas, TX next week to work with my team there on how to use this beautiful new thing we’ve designed and built, come home for a week for some last minute fixes and meetings, and then turn right back around to Dallas to launch this bad boy. From there, who knows where to next. Right now there’s talk of Cairo and El Salvador for a week at a pop, and as much fun as that sounds, my cynical side is resisting and just wanting to stay put for a little bit. Anyone seen my old adventure hat??

So yeah, I’m stuck in this work-centric juxtaposition when I’d much rather be on the broader topic of me and all the things that you guys love reading. I’ve had some pretty killer weekends lately, met some super rad people, hung out with the best of my friends (well, not all of them), seen some ridiculous moments of alcohol induced humility, spent some amazing time with my amazing son, talked on the phone for hours with people too far away to hug, and simply have just been smiling all along the way. It’s been a huge relief honestly, letting go of the parts that hold back smiles, real smiles, and just enjoying this wild ride. I know you want more than that, and I’d love to divulge all of the dirt and empty out the skeletons, but I’m still a gentleman. Some things, you just keep close to the chest, others to the hip.

Interesting concept posted by a good friend this morning. It’s called the Six Word Memoir, and made me stop and think about what 6 words could ultimately end up on my headstone? It’s funny, the first thing I came up with, I actually ~~stole~~ borrowed in my Senior Year quote “Words and Music, My Only Tools” from a Mother Love Bone song. Since then, I’ve had a couple other originals such as “Don’t you only get one shot?” and “The beginning of the end, again” and so on. Give it a shot, what six words would you end with?

There’s my gems today, give me time, “I’m sure there’s more of this coming” (couldn’t resist one more)

Stay blessed-

Til Death…

2010-03-22T12:37:00.001-07:00

So I took a week off, and it was a really busy week, professionally speaking. My return from bachelor party down time in Portland, turned into some very long to-do lists in the office and very little free personal time. I think by weeks end last Friday, I managed to log about 65 working hours both weeks. So, sorry for no bliggety- blog action. Let’s start this off where this past weekend began.

My little man and I headed out from daycare Friday night to the Tacoma Dome for a night of FMX at it’s finest. It was the first night of the ‘Nuclear Cowboyz’ tour, a mix of the Metal Mulisha and the Soldiers of Havoc, riding for just under 2 hours on a pretty impressive indoor ramp setup. In between sets of insane freestyle tricks, there were the “Nuclear Cowgirlz” or what I like to call, “out of work strippers”, dancing on poles, with stilts, and fire and giant flashlights. All in all, it was a killer show, tons of pyro and fireworks, and the kicker was a train of 13 straight bikes doing back flips over a 100 foot gap. It was pretty impressive and Jackson had a blast. Anytime I’d scream or clap, he was right there with me, hands in the air, clapping and turning to me to ask, “Daddy! Did you see that!!!” There was something so contagious about that smile and interest, it seemed like every hardcore Metal Mulisha fan around us was stoked to see how stoked he was!

Took us about an hour to get home thanks to some brilliant parking lot attendants at the dome. You’d think after all of the years of events at that place, they’d have this figured out. Normally, I’d park off site, but when you take a two year old to an event with 10 thousand people, you just want to get them safely back to the car as quickly as possible. Somehow, he managed to stay awake and talk to me the entire way home, only to fall asleep in my jacket as we made our way into the house. It was a perfect ending to an awesome night with my bubba.

Saturday morning was a shock, as my arm was being yanked from the socket by an overly awake toddler at 8 am. Despite being awake long past his bedtime the night before, he was wide eyed and bushy tailed to tell me “it’s pretty outside” and he was so right. The sun was in full motion that morning and as the day went on, the temperature rose along with it. It was a very pretty day and we made the most of it. By mid-afternoon, it was nap time for both of us, as I had a long evening ahead of me.

By 3:30, I decided it was time to get moving and get dressed for a wedding. Not just any wedding, but one of my closest friends Bethany and her awesome (now) husband and my friend, Steven. Of course, I never really need an excuse to wear a brand new suit, but this was a pretty good one. I even wore a tie, which rarely happens. In fact, thanks to the internet, I got to dust off my tie tying skills, and had to take a shot at some rather interesting knots. I stuck with the oldie but a goodie, the four-in-hand knot. I also took a shot at some interesting pocket-square folds and in the end decided against wearing one at all. I did however rock an amazing tie, black with purple skulls and cross-bones… Would you expect anything less? Needless to say, it took me a bit to get all that square and get out of the door. A 40 minute drive up to Redmond, a few adult beverages at J.J. Mahoney’s with Jake, and a short trip across the street, and I was in the wedding location by 5:58 pm for a 6:00 pm wedding start. The good news here is that I know no wedding ever starts on time. Probably because of people knowing it won’t start on time and moseying on in a few minutes late. At least I’m not the only one!

Inside and a good majority of my nearest and dearest friends were already there, including some people I had no idea were going to be there (@Juggins79) for instance. That’s my first twitter reference FYI A few minutes of hello’s and hugs found me sitting with Steve and Tricia and ready to get the show on the road. The bridal party made it’s way in ushered by Chalmers grooms men, everyone looking good and stoked. The traditional “here comes the bride” music begins and in comes Bethany, looking amazing and calm. I have to say that in all of the weddings I’ve attended, this had to be the most relaxed group of people ever, which only further solidifies my long standing belief that these two were absolutely made for each other. Anyone in attendance at this wedding can only say the same, perfect. It was a quick ceremony, Bethany’s dad resided over the vows. I’m sure it had to be tough, marrying your daughter off, but he did an amazing job holding it together. It wasn’t until he read a blessing to Steven that he was audibly chocked up. It was a very nice moment to be sure. Like I said, the wedding went perfectly, not too long, not too short, all of the right people hanging out and sharing in their moment. Food was spot on, they never ran out of booze, and when it was time to hit the street, the cabs were lined up to sweep folks off to the next venue.

Waking up Sunday morning, roughly about the same time 24 hours earlier, this time without a 2 year old pulling at my arm, but a stiff headache and a fog of where I actually was, was interesting. Still dressed in my new suite, sans a jacket and tie, pockets still possessing my phone, keys and wallet, I crawled out of the guest bedroom of the girls new house and made my way out to the truck. No idea at the time, when I had actually decided to go to bed, but my general feeling was that it hadn’t been too early. I was definitely feeling the effects of an awesome wedding reception. I’d later find out it was probably around 2am, JV for me, even at 32. Drive home was less than entertaining, mix of sun and rain the whole way back, blah, much like how I was feeling, despite the enormous cup of coffee I grabbed before hitting the 405 home. Shower, tooth brush, and off to pick up the monkey from his mom, along with the dogs. I knew it was about to be a longer day than I was ready to live through. It actually turned out quite well, Jackson and I played a lot of trains, cleaned out his crab cage (yes, we have 3 hermit crabs now), watched some basketball, colored, took a nap on the couch, and played some more. It was a pretty chill Sunday, thank God for that. The day ended with a win for Dem’s in the Healthcare vote, the return of Breaking Bad and a live-and-free UFC fight on the Versus network. All in all, an amazingly fantastic weekend.

I should have some witty or thoughtful insight on weddings and such, but my brain just isn’t there today. Stay tuned however, as I owe it to my newly married friends to have something wise to say.

Cheers and stay blessed-

It’s PDX, not P90X

2010-03-08T12:36:00.001-08:00

The timeline of a journey

Journey
–noun
1.a traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time
2. passage or progress from one stage to another: the journey to success.

A journey can be an interesting retrospective, years and years of a path unchartered. Never knowing exactly where you’re heading or what challenge you’ll face, what victory you’ll experience, what loss will impact your soul. Just remaining constant and present in your own life, to see the next fork in the road. And how many little journeys take place within the main trek? Or are they all a part of the same journey? This past weekend, I joined 19 other guys on an epic journey, a celebration of our great friend Chalmers, and the completion of his journey as a single man, as he prepares to set a new course, this time, hand in hand, with an amazing woman, as her husband.

The Jupiter Hotel in Portland, Oregon was the jump off point for the weekends festivities. I caught a ride with my old roommate and consummate friend Jake late afternoon Friday and we made the drive down to PDX. I’ve never spent any significant time in the sister city to my adopted home base, and I’ve never really given it the shake it deserved. I always pictured Portland as a wanna-be Seattle, full of patchouli drenched hippies and environmental activists. What I found, was a city that has an amazing night life and more culture than I could possible ingest in a weekend. I had my eyes opened, and I’m officially apologizing now for my lack of interest Portland, although, I don’t think I’m quite hip enough to fully be embraced by your scene. The hotel was a big sign of just how hip PDX is. Jake and I pulled up to the Jupiter around 9:00 pm Friday night, to be greeted by an outdoor gathering of people partying it up Vegas style, security everywhere, live music and no where to park. I thought for sure that somewhere along our 3 hour drive down I-5, we hit a portal that worm-holed us right to 1950’s Las Vegas. Coincidentally, if I ever find that vortex, I’ll be the richest man in the world and would be definitely worth knowing. It was immediately apparent to me, that we were in for quite a weekend. After checking in and getting settled in our room, which consists of laying claim to a bed and throwing our bags down, we were off to find the rest of our crew. That wasn’t hard, as the exterior of every hotel room door is coated in a chalkboard material. Give a bachelor party a medium to be creative with chalk after consuming a 6-pack or three of ice cold PBR, and the artistic talent flows on nearly every surface. Insert your favorite dick and poop joke here, they sure did. The guys continued rolling in, one car load after the other, until 20 of us decided it was time to hit the city bars. I can only imagine what drivers crossing the Burnside bridge must have thought as this eclectic motley crew made it way into the Pearl District, personally I took inventory of everyone in our pack and knew that any bar we all walked into was in for making a lot of money that night. I also learned quite quickly that Portland doesn’t seem to care about capacity issues in their bars. Both Friday and Saturday nights, we walked into bar after bar that was well over comfortable occupancy before we came in. Not that I’m complaining, as there was never a time of waiting more than 3 or 4 minutes for that next tasty beverage. I just remember thinking, if there’s a fire, I won’t be the last one out. First bar of the night was a hole called The Tube, literally a narrow hole in the wall, designed (if you can call it that) to look like a euro-train car, or at least in one quarter of it, full of hipster kids covered in tattoo’s and vintage clothing jamming out to hip hop record after record. It was cool, way laid back and easy. I’ll also mention, that per capita, Portland might have the most consistent groups of pretty girls out at the bars. Kind of like the ‘Déjà Vu’ slogan says, “100 pretty girls, 1 ugly one”, PDX might consider using something similar. No matter where we went, that certainly seemed to be the case. Speaking of journeys, one that started roughly 15 years ago with one of my closest all time friends and constant ear during some formidable college years, got back on track. I hadn’t seen Jenny in almost 14 years, and through one of the only upsides of social networking, we reconnected a little over a year ago, trading a note here and there, trying to make plans to get together and it just never worked out. Well this was the time, and one which validated how I’ve always felt about my friend Jenny. The minute we saw each other we shared a 14 year overdue hug on the street that lasted for minutes of us laughing and squeezing and laughing and looking at each other and squeezing some more. It was simply food for my soul and filling this empty place in my heart that’s been missing my friend for far too long. It didn’t take 2 seconds for us to talk like we always did back in those days, as if years hadn’t gone by without us even knowing where the other one was. She was still the girl from Soda Springs Idaho that was my confidant, my shoulder, my ear at a turning point in my adolescent college life. The same bright eyes, with 14 years of stories on her own journey that we will have to spend countless hours discussing and sharing over a few bottles of wine some other time. Hopefully not 14 years from now.

It was a great night.

Saturday morning began much like every Saturday morning as the parent of a toddler, this time without the need to be up at a certain time or a toddler standing next to my bed waking me up. My bodies internal alarm clock just doesn’t know the difference between being out of town and being at home, even after a night of heavy drinking that found me with one foot on the floor as I did my best to pass out as quickly as possible around 3:30 am. It was 8:05 am and no amount of fighting with the pillow was going to let me fall back asleep. I rolled out of bed, grabbed last nights clothes off of the floor and made my way out of the hotel room and across the street for a cup of wake up java for me and an organic energy something for my hung-over roommate. Portland can’t quite wipe off the hippie image I’ve envisioned so easily when it’s coffee shops sell “organic all natural” forms of red bull. Hair a mess, clothes smelling like last nights cigarette and gin, I sauntered back towards the hotel. Hangover in full effect, it was just my luck that as my right foot stepped off the curb, a motorcycle led procession of a Chinese funeral began down the street in front of me. Car after car after car, they just kept coming, forcing me to simply sit down on the curb and wait 15 minutes before returning to the hotel that 10 hours earlier looked like the poshest party in the northwest. Now, it looked like the place you wake up wondering how the hell you got there and where’s my car? One by one, the guys started making their way out into the morning air, looking much like I did. Unshowered, hung over and needing to hit the hair of the dog in short order. Brent and Trevor and I started with the worst Bloody Mary’s ever produced, which turned into 9 am Red bull and Vodka as the sun began warming up the courtyard we were content to take over. As a group, we were supposed to be on our way to play some Paintball at 10 and as the 9 o’clock hour came and went, it was obvious to those actually awake, that there was no paintball to be played this day. Eric made the phone call which left all of us to our own devices. Amazing Banana-Hazelnut Pancakes at the Dougfir. a sweet little restaurant/bar at the hotel. From there, it was time to venture into the city for some early 80’s video games at the “B-arcade” called Ground Control, where Jake and Jen and friends ended up the night before. There’s something about playing games like Double Dragon and Paperboy on old stand up arcade boxes and drinking PBR. It worked for us Friday night, so we figured we might as well doo it again. Jake had also left his credit card there the night before so there was even more reason to go. Who am I kidding though, why give any reason to sit down and play video games from our younger days, none needed. Alec, Jake, Forbes, Tre and I played game after game for an hour or so before stumbling back into what turned out to be an amazingly beautiful day in March. A few of us headed back to the hotel, and after a mile of walking in the warmth of the sun, I needed to finally take a shower and get a nap in before the day became evening and dinner and debauchery would ensue.

Dinner reservations for 20 at Henry's 12th Street Tavern at 8:00, became 8:45 before we were seated in the furthest room from the rest of the patron’s. And for good reason, we were in full celebration mode, celebrating what we all believe is the perfect union of two amazing human beings. Round after round, toast after toast, the night was in full swing and only getting warmer as the nights air temperature dropped. Although we cabbed it to the restaurant, we hoofed it a half mile or so the grand opening of the Beauty Bar, in the now famous Pearl District. Again, another bar with elbow to elbow hipsters, a DJ playing upstairs old school funk and R&B which felt much more like the soundtrack to a Quentin Tarantino movie. Literally, at one point in the evening while looking down from the balcony at the people below, I thought at any moment, Uma Thurman was going to walk in with a samurai sword and start chopping people down. It was yet another hipster scene that I didn’t feel hip enough to participate in, despite the brand new all black suit. We eventually made our way back to the street after a few more cocktails, and headed back to hotel. What we found there, was another evening of “party down” at the Jupiter, all the guys fully enjoying the views and the beverages and the comradery of simply hanging out. Another fantastic evening.

11:00 am Sunday morning, I was finally able to sleep beyond my internal alarm clock! Must have been that last couple pints of Guinness and the 4 am crash out. I didn’t care, the hangover was in full effect and the shower helped me wash off most of the previous evenings bar stamps. The guys were all gathered up near the lobby checking out and cashing out, thus signaling the end of our weekend journey. Of course, there was still the 3 hour drive home, this time with less enthusiasm than the drive 36 hours earlier. As far as I know, everyone made it home safe and sound. I got back early enough to start working on my motorcycle and getting it ready to roll through the summer.

I spent a lot of time thinking about my journey, how I’ve come to where I am. The people along the way, the challenges, the set backs, the victories, the wins and the losses, the mistakes, the lessons learned, the horses I got back up on and the ones I never thought twice about. Along each of our journeys, there’s a mile marker at which we have to take stock of the past, embrace the present and make plans for the future. I have missed a few of the mile markers along the way, forgotten about people that picked me up on their backs and have carried me in their hearts. I forgot to embrace them while they were there and missed them when they were gone. This weekend was a tremendous reminder of that. It took me too many years to get back to a mile marker that I got to embrace for only an evening and I can’t wait to return to it soon; to remember, to share and make plans. Lifelong friends are good for the soul, the heart and the smiles. I know there’s so much more I could talk about right now and expand on, but it’s a good time for all of us to pause and introspectively look at our own journeys and make some turns to a missed marker out there. If nothing more than to share a smile.

Stay Blessed-

An Irish Blessing:

May you have the hindsight to know where you've been
the foresight to know where you're going
and the insight to know when you're going too far

I’m back, and better than ever

2010-03-01T10:33:00.001-08:00

So I’ve taken a 3 month hiatus from writing here, and apparently, it’s upset a few people. I’ve received a couple emails here and there inquiring about my status, my health, sanity and if I still had a heartbeat. Some wondering if I’d gone blind or been debilitated from use of my hands, rendering me useless at a keyboard. Others assumed I’d found some new love and didn’t have anything to cry and pout about. The answer, honestly, is that I didn’t think anyone really would miss these rants, these diarrhea thoughts spewed out of me onto the canvas of the internet for anyone to read. I was personally getting a bit tired of feeling like I was dragging my own ass through a sea of negative thinking and emotion and had to take twenty steps back and reassess what it was I was doing. To be sure, I was consistently setting myself up for failure, walking over emotional landmine after landmine, knowing that as cathartic as it seemed at the moment, was only prolonging the same feelings of despair and depression. At the same time, I was allowing anyone who clicked a link to follow me right into it. It got to a pathetic point, where I was spending more time talking about my self-induced misery, then looking for a way out of it. I guess everyone does that to a point, dwell in pity, sift through misery, drown in their sorrows. I was just really good at doing it consistently. Yes, there were times and days where it made a difference to me, made me feel somewhat better, in that moment. But that relief would fade, and it would start all over, again and again and time again. It wasn’t until I stopped writing here, that I forced myself to simply be human and deal. By dealing, it was coming to the realization that I wasn’t happy. Happy being me, happy being a son, a father, a friend, a person. That might have been the toughest challenge I’ve faced in my life, tougher than the loss of a love, tougher than losing a best friend. Looking yourself in the mirror and admitting that there was nothing you like about being you. It sucked, it was dark and scary and ugly, and had no place for anyone but me to analyze, internalize and begin restoring. So that’s what I’ve been busy doing, falling in love, with being me. It sounds very weird to say, even more so to read in print, but it’s been the best thing to happen to me, at a time when it mattered the most.

I can say that I’ve always depended on other things or people to find happiness. I’ve walked through life allowing other people to set my mood, allow me to feel a certain way about me, or them, or life in general. It’s been the antithesis of my life. I’m finally at a realization that, and I’ve said it before (but never embraced), that I have to be the one that determines my happiness. I have to be in love with me before I can love anyone else the way I want to love. It took a long time for me to finally pinpoint all of this and thus began that last 3 months of work on me; loving me through eating better, working out consistently, attending some parenting classes to learn how to be a better father, renewed passion for the guitar (and actually making time to practice), renewing old friendships and embracing the time spent with people, making actual plans to go somewhere for no reason other than to go, planning a vacation, putting away money for that rainy day. It’s been a renewal, and to most people, you’re laughing at this seemingly mundane list, but it has honestly been the difference between the guy who needed things and people to be happy, and this guy, who honestly loves being him (or me). So I’m back, back to being awesome in my own skin, stoked to be me. This morning I actually looked in the mirror, after finally getting ready to leave for the office, and was stoked to see the confident well dressed young man ready to take over the world looking back at me in the mirror. Can you say that today? I really hope so, I want my friends and readers to be stoked, to be the best you, you can be. I know that I still have a ways to go to hit that point where nothing bothers me, my feelings can be a little less traversable to impact in the face of commentary not meant to be personal, all without the help of chemistry. The bottom line today is, I’m stoked on being me; as a father, a son, a friend, a person.

Stay Blessed-

Transient Dream

2009-12-01T09:15:00.000-08:00

It's a slippery slope, getting beyond what's right in front of us to move on with our lives. I've been fairly irrational, and very rational, over the past few days and weeks. For whatever reason, holidays pull me down, get me down. I know it has everything to do with family, or my lack there of, here in Washington. Having thought I was so close to finalizing the boyhood dream of romance and marriage, and having it vanish as quickly as it developed, didn't make a family holiday feel any better. That was a turning point for me in the past week, where the irrational and rational decided to contend for space inside my head and heart. It drug me through some rather dark and scary places of thought, only to allow me time to pause and ask WTF was I thinking. Why would I make myself so miserable, knowing damn well I had control over how I felt? There was clarity in the heartache fog I was suffocating in. It took me completely breaking down on Sunday, letting it all out, unleashing all of what had been eating me up. It needed to happen, at least for me it did. It was such a selfish moment of weakness, unloading on Jamie, and unfortunately, witnessed by my son. I don't think he's ever seen me cry or hurt, and I've done a bang up job to make sure he never had to see any of this. In fact, I had no intention of having the conversation that occured, less have him see any of it, but it happened. I think that hurt worse, seeing his concern for his crumbling father and looking to mom to make it better. It sucks, it truly sucks that he ever had to see any of it, hear any of it. In hind site, I'd change that morning in a heartbeat, which of course cannot be undone. It's my job, as it has been since he took his first breath of life, to protect him and teach him and help him develop into a better man than me. That's all of our jobs as parents, whether we like it or not, accept it or not, it's our responsibility and I feel like I failed him in that moment. I've always told him that he should always treat his mommy like a queen, "she's the only one you get, and she's more important that anything else in the world". I've done everything to reinforce that for him, until I yelled and cried and broke down. I'm upset it happened, truly, and I know this may seem like some type of apology, it's merely me pouring out the frustrations of being a single parent dealing with life and admitting to being very very wrong. We all do it, or have done it, to someone we didn't mean to, and felt stupid or ashamed about it later. Maybe this is more of my own reminder to start pausing more, I know that it will never happen again.

So the slippery slope, the one where I feel like I'm at the pinnacle of, is approaching a point of no return. I've been thinking of getting out of the south end for some time now, needing to be closer to my friends and work and people who know and love me. I've been reluctant to make any kind of change due to the impact it would cause on Jackson and Jamie both. I'm not willing to give up any time with my son, that comes first and foremost. I don't expect to hear any parent ever willing to do that, just as I don't expect Jamie to give up any time with him. She's made that point very clear. I'm left with very little wiggle room and in the center is my son. The house we bought together can't be sold any time soon due to this current market, which means she cannot move. We've both stated that putting him in two different day cares isn't an option from a stability standpoint, and moving his daycare, somewhere closer to the east side, would mean taking time away from her, which I'd never want for either of them. Thus begins another defensive and emotional struggle. Of course I want what is best for him, we both do, and we both agree on the same principals in that. My only choice is to remain in the south end, with this ridiculous commute to work and friends and everything I know that isn't her. There's another choice, one that doesn't make sense for anyone, which is the court system, in which I know will only further muddy the water that can barely be swam in as it is. I don't want, or desire, to walk that line, battling for something that cannot be won or lost. I'm in a lose/lose situation right now and more than ever do I need that group of people nearest to me, checking in on me, looking over me. I need counsel, someone to calm me down when I'm about to lose it. It is much harder than I ever thought it would be, being in this storm, looking for calm, and being lost, without the options that make it right for everyone. I know now, and probably have known, that there is no going back to what once felt like home. There won't be any reconciliation, just a struggle to be adults and keep emotion out of the decisions.

That means I'm staying put in the south end longer than I thought I would, but for the love of my son, I'd do anything. He's the reason, the only reason, I will put away the "wants" with those thoughts of yesterday and move forward away from the slippery slope. Might have to tip toe a bit

Packing up these boxes
Memories of another day
Holding onto something
That just won't go away
Maybe it's tomorrow
That you'll come back to stay
We'll never know

Stay blessed-

Walking

2009-11-26T13:45:00.000-08:00

It’s been a little bit since I’ve posted anything. There’s many reasons for this, mainly just finding time to ensure I am expressing things with the attention that I feel they deserve, rather than sit down and spew out a bunch of shit just for the sake of posting something. I’ve actually been swamped in the business end, and the free time away from work has been spent trying to be an awesome dad and friend. I have been fortunate enough to spend countless hours building multitudes of various train tracks and configurations with my two year old. I never had a train track growing up, or at least I don’t remember one, and I don’t remember really wanting one, but I’m finding that for whatever reason watching a train go around and around and around, is actually a lot of fun. Or possibly, it’s watching the look of amazement on my son’s face as he uses the remote control to determine the direction of movement, and loading up a single engine with every possible cargo container, to see just how far he can push it’s abilities before it can’t make it up Timber Mountain. It’s pretty funny, he’s now repeating me as he loads them up, “It’s too much” he tells me as he makes the attempt on the plastic tracks, up the mountain pass. When it doesn’t make it, he pulls off a cargo car, resets the trains and tries again. I swear I can see the light bulb go on from time to time. Once he’s off to bed, or with his mother, I’ve been holding on tight to my guitars and actual pen and paper, writing new music and simply just practicing my new found love of the guitar. I often wish I would have learned to play many many years ago, as the level of suck in my abilities would definitely be much lower. As well, the song writing process would go so much faster. None the less, I’m enjoying making music on my own, even if it’s rough and will need some polishing. That’s what my brother is for, right? I’ve also put a lot of attention into the book project, busting out another 50 pages in the last week and feeling like once I have the bulk of the timeline together, I can start picking and choosing and start rewrites. As long as I can keep the same passion and fervor in the words as I felt in the living of it all, I might actually have something to be proud of. Then it’ll be up to someone else to decide if it’s print worthy. No qualms from me there, it is what it is, right?

It’s actually been so long since I’ve posted, that I actually had to go back and look at my last piece just to remind me where I left off. Considering it was after my hell trip home from Dallas, there’s a lot that’s gone on personally. And as with every choice I make, there are consequences, some of which I accept wholly. There’s been some other interactions that I didn’t know what to feel or have any clue exactly how I’d feel until the inevitable “feeling” that took place following. I should explain, and never leave things here as vague as I am right now. I just am still battling in my head and heart with myself, not to mention, anyone that has been involved in said feelings. See, there are things I don’t spew out, mainly in an effort to shield others who don’t want their laundry aired across the interweb for anyone and everyone to read. And as much as my writing isn’t about them, it’s only fair to ensure their anonymity. That being said, my head is everywhere it probably should be staying away from for my own good, and potentially theirs. I think about so many different possibilities, so many different roads I could be traveling, and they all come to an abrupt halt when I consider what would be in my rearview mirror, and yeah, I’m still struggling with that. This tree of mine has so many roots tangled up in the past that as I cut them, one by one, piece by piece, the dying leaves are covering the choices I may need to travel. Each branch leaving another scar. I feel blinded, yet so aware of the impending pain I’m going to cause, to me and to that future out of arms reach. No matter which road I take, someone is getting hurt, and although the degrees of that pain will vary, it’s not any easier, and it’s not clear to me which path is the right one. I’ve never been a calculating person when it comes to my heart, I’ve always let it develop as it happens. Sure, I’ve put up walls and guarded what I could, held onto ideals and counter argued each passionate choice, but rarely let logic interfere with what the heart has lobbied for. The landscape has changed a lot for me since the times I could allow such a bold spirited campaign run frivolously, it’s more serious now. There’s hearts at stake, and not just mine. There’s someone else’s to consider, and how any road will jell with theirs impacts the most important life I have to protect and teach. Every choice has a consequence and at some point they have to be made, acted upon, lived out. It just doesn’t feel like any time may be the right time, sense of urgency doesn’t exist for me right now. Some will argue that you can’t fight what is to be, and they may be right. It’s just going to be my foot on the accelerator and my hands on the wheel determining where I drive, in my time. Maybe I miss out on something, or everything, so be it. This is the most rational me I’ve seen looking back in the mirror in many many years. Good things come to those who wait, right? Yes, I’m summing things up with a ketchup catch-phrase.

Found a new band I’m digging yesterday, completely by accident. While I was tripping through other band pages looking at tour dates and trying to check things off my unwritten bucket list, I found Lo-Pro. A newer band signed to Aaron Lewis's label. Check them out.

Today is Thankgiving, 2009. Many people know how I feel about this "holiday" in general, and I'll keep my feelings about this PR coverup to myself and sinply say, Happy Thanksgiving to you. I hope you find yourself surrounded by people who know you and love you and are thankful that you are in their lives. I wish nothing but the best for you and if you're reading this, I am thankful for that. This day always makes me stop and think about the blessings that I have in my own life. Today, however, doesn't really feel like that though. I'm struggling today, honestly struggling, to keep my feet on the ground and the tears out of my eyes. As I mentioned earlier in this post, the hurt I'm causing myself is out of my control as I miss so many things that are making it hard to breathe and even pretend to be happy. It's much harder than that, more complicated, less thankful and more painful. I'm unraveled today, coming apart at every seam, and so I'm sitting here, writting to you in an effort to purge this unease, this discontent, this whatever it is that's come over me today. I might just go back to bed and be thankful I have one to go to.

Stay Blessed-

This isn't a hotel

2009-11-03T12:43:00.000-08:00

It's been an interesting week since my last post. So much has happened that I think if I tried to comment on all of it, this post might be completed a week from now. I guess I'll start with the last of my trip to Dallas, which from the business perspective, was fairly mundane and not needed, but from a personal perspective, allowed me to reconnect with an old friend, who honestly, made me miss being a kid. I never thought I'd want to relive the years of careless frivolty and recklessness that we lived in from 5th grade forward. I mean, it was fun and we found our fair share of trouble, but the grinding through to be an adult and to find our own ways in the world, took a lot, and I don't think I'd ever want to start over. Sharing the stories of those days and laughing about the nonsense though, made me think about the fun under the stars in McCall, Idaho. There was a night, when about 8 of us spent the summer as 'work crew' at a church camp, where we stole the camp boat to go water skiing under the moonlight on the Payette Lake. This wasn't just a boat, this was a 19 foot Ski Natique, on loan to the camp, probably worth about 45k, and we were 15 or 16 years old. Insanity to me now looking back, awesome and exciting back then. Not to mention dangerous. I wonder how many close calls with death and dismemberment we really did have back then? Jeeze, as a father of a son who, by all things inherent, will probably be doing the same type of things in 13-14 years, I'm scared, but if I never know about it, I'll be fine with that. As a 32 year old son, I hope this doesn't scare the crap out of my parents.

Anyway, hanging out with Emily and her husband Scott, was hands down, the best part of my trip, minus the ensuing hangover the following morning. Wednesday night, the three of us headed out to dinner. This time with very clear directions and prior knowledge of the restaraunt. We hit Sushi Axiom and it was fantastic. I'll be honest, I even asked our waiter where they get their maguro prior to ordering it. I was nervous that we might be sitting down for some Gulf of Mexico, fuel tanker bred tuna. He ensured me that they fly it in every two days and I wouldn't notice the difference between Seattle and Dallas sushi. He also kept refilling my sak'e glass every 5 minutes. He was right, after 2 or 3 large sak'es, I had no idea where we were eating at, and the rolls were pretty awesome! Follow that with a world famous, fairly metro, espresso martini, and we were well on our way to needing our designated driver(Scott) to provide us safe passage. Of course, not until after we headed across the street to a bar for a few pints and car bombs.

Ah, the Irish Carbomb. Pour a shot of Jameson topped with Baileys and drop it into a half a pint of Guinness and pound it. It's a wonderful drink normally, especially after a few pints. Probably even better if you don't share a few tall pitchers of sak'e and a martini first. This might have been the turning point of my night out drinking, and sadly, I think it was my idea to have the carbombs. It was after 1:00 am when we decided we'd had enough, and we walked out into the torrential rain that was decending upon Dallas. Thank God almighty for the wonderful Scott driving me back to my hotel. Said our goodbyes, made plans for another get together at a later date(Still TBD) and then I woke up. Foggy eyes, tv on, heartburn, lights on, 5:30 am, dressed still... hotel bed. I don't recall walking through the hotel, or turning on the television, or even lying down. Somehow I managed to plug in my phone. Let the hangover begin...

Based on my waking state, and the uncertainty of my sobriety (unintentional rhyme), I decided my best bet was to hit the shower and work from my hotel that morning. I would be out of the hotel by 11:30 and grabbing some food and hitting the airport to leave on a 2:30 pm flight back to Seattle. Checked in the sweet rental car, blacked out Toyota Carolla, and jumped on the shuttle to the airport baggage check in. Paid Continental airlines twenty bucks to allow my bag a spot under the plane, flight status showed "on time" and made my way to security. 12:45 pm and all is right in the world, breezed through security with my laptop and headed to the gate. Flight still listed as on time, heading to Houston, quick layover and a 4:30 pm flight to Seattle. 1:15 pm and the passengers on the 1:30 still sitting outside the gate waiting to board their flight, still listed as "on time", until the board above the agent changes, the 1:30 is now scheduled for 2:00 pm departure, pushing my flight out 30 min. No big deal, my hour layover in Houston just getting shortened by 30 min on the connection. Headphones on, magazine in hand, found a seat close to a plug-in on the wall to charge the phone. 2:30 pm passengers from the 1:30 begin boarding the delayed 2:00 pm flight, now leaving at 3:00...panic starts to set in as I realize my flight isn't leaving at 3:00, our plane isn't even here. I scuried with a magazine and boarding pass in one hand, laptop bag in the other, to the Continental counter to see the gate agent about getting on the 1:30 flight. He gets me on, sends me down the boarding tunnel and as I'm almost to the entrance of the plane, I'm turned back because the plane is "over weight"! SO CLOSE

This back and forth let down continued through to 11:10 pm when I finally got on a plane bound for Houston, 11 hours in the Dallas airport. By 12:45 am Friday, I got into Houston with no hope for a flight home to Seattle until 7:40 am. I did what I could to get comfortable in an airport full of distressed travelers, looking for a somfy spot to close my eyes and hold tight to my laptop. In all my years of travel, I've never spent a night in an airport and I don't think I'll be signing up for it any time soon. It sucked and every single airport store was closed, no coffee, no muffins or magazines. Every single row of chairs had an armrest in between each seat, so there was no spreading out across them, and the one semi-out of the way carpeted place I found to lie down was covered in dirrty hippies who were snoring up a storm with their shoes off. I was miserable. I never actually went to sleep. Airports weren't designed to be hotels after all.

By noon Friday I was pulling into the house to scoop up my puppies, tired and still feeling hungover, and headed back to my place. I washed the stank of 28 some odd hours of travel off and went about some work. Just another day in the life of Ryan, and one, or 2, I won't be repeating any time soon. Yes, I'm cutting this short and leaving out all sorts of other mundane details to spare this post from being looked over entirely by those of you that preview the length and might come back to it later. I have, however, in all of the jockeying for a plane ride, gotten some good work done on the book. I'm still working on a title and am so open to suggestions. Give me some witty nonsensical ideas.

Stay blessed-

Tejas can really suck…

2009-10-27T11:07:00.001-07:00

First night in Dallas was a wash, literally. About 9:30 local time, a flash flood warning started crawling across every local television channel. By 10:00 pm the lightning was crackling and the thunder was shaking the hotel walls. I opened up the sliding glass door to take a look and it was dumping rain, I mean downpour. Loud and cold, the storm kept up well into this morning when I got out of bed around 6:15. Lightning still lighting up the morning sky. It was pretty wild, welcome to Texas right? Monday morning feels like Seattle in the early spring, 56 degrees and misty rain with dark dark clouds. And along with the weather comes the tired that ensues from every west coast eastbound travel. The time difference… even though I attempted to be in bed at my regular west coast hour, the morning came earlier than desired as the 6ish here is really 4ish at home, so I’m pooped, dog tired, jet lagged, and well honestly, home sick. Right??? I’ve been gone 24 hours and already wish I was on my own little couch in my little apartment with my friends and dogs and my kiddo. Maybe it’s just the state of mind, I’m not really all here and well, I hope I can find the rest of me soon. Business travel needs to focus on business, and not my blog or the personal sides of my life.

Two bad cups of black coffee from the 2nd floor cafeteria and it’s on. It’s been a fairly busy morning in the Dallas office. Meeting people, shaking hands, having their day to day work dissected in white boards and documentation. It’s all pretty boring and I’m having a hard time staying focused. It’s not that it isn’t interesting, it’s just not something I haven’t seen before, or helped develop in a former business life. Nothing eye opening or even worth my trip out here. Aside from making an attempt to catch up with an old friend here in Texas, I probably could have done this from anywhere, preferably my living room. Day ended a little earlier than I had previously thought it would, my peer here in Dallas bailed about 3:30 thanks to the onset of flu like symptoms. Of course, no one wants to think it may be swine flu, but with it going around like crazy, I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Back to the hotel by 5:00 pm and made arrangements with my friend I hadn’t seen in at least 15 years, to meet up for dinner with her and her husband Scott.

By 6:20 pm we were off to dinner, in the rain and bad GPS directions on her Blackberry. Drove for what felt like 30 minutes through various parts of Dallas that had all 3 of us thinking this was probably not the best part of town to be stopping for a meal. We passed taqueria after taqueria (Spanish for ‘Taco Shop’) looking for a restaurant to sit down and catch up. Street after street, the deeper we got into this area of Dallas, the more uncomfortable we all began feeling. Of course, we laughed it off, not wanting each other to know that we knew, this was all wrong. After a couple of turns and heading back towards the freeway, we stumbled upon a restaurant that was just like the one we had originally intended on heading to. Finally, 50 minutes into our tour of what I would call “all of the places in Dallas to not drive a Saab and be white in” we were walking into dinner.

Had an awesome meal, consisting of my consistent Mexican order of Pollo enchiladas en mole, a tamales and 3 bottles of Pacifico. The food was outstanding, probably because of the 3 pints I had with it, but the conversation was even better. I’ve known Emily for most of my life. And like she said at one point in the evening, and I concur, “I don’t remember a time not knowing you”. We probably haven’t seen each other since early on in high school, so it’s been at least 15 years. We had a lot of catching up to do. Time is an interesting thing, and friendship is one of those wonderful parts of life that is not eclipsed by it. Although it had been more than a decade since we last laughed with one another, you would never have known it. The time a part was like a blink of the eye, with a whole lot of living in between. We shared as many stories as we could of where we’d been and done and reminisced about times we’d had growing up at church camp and hanging out. After about 2 hours of laughing our asses off and full of food and adult beverages, I asked for the check with every intention of picking up this tab we had. I snuck my credit card to the waitress before she could even present the bill, as Emily attempted to do the same. Our waitress spun back to the register before Emily could even get a word out, preventing her attempt to do exactly what I had planned. We laughed about it for a few moments before the waitress returned to my table to hand me my card and in a very serious, and not so pleasant voice said “it’s declined”. She put her hands on her hips and looked me in the face as I asked her to say that again. “It’s declined”, she said again, and in shock and embarrassment I quickly reached for my iPhone to log into my bank account and see what the heck was going on. Meanwhile, Emily yells out “Perfect” and with a huge smile hands the waitress her card. Exactly what I expected to see on my banks website, plenty of money in both of my accounts, I turned my card over and began dialing the customer service number. The conversation with the banker on the phone took about 10 minutes as they recounted every charge in the last 3 days and explained my card was flagged for fraud due to the 2 bad cups of $1.62 coffee I had purchased from the 2nd floor cafeteria earlier that day. Apparently, small out of state purchases within hours of each other raises a red flag. Of course, there was no call directly to me to ask if I was traveling but you would assume that before shutting off my card, they would have seen the hotel, the rental car, the other charges that should tip off any “fraud specialist” that I was traveling! Of course, I mentioned this to the “banker” on the phone as recounted each of the previous 3 days worth of charges, including my hotel, my rental car, my baggage charge with Continental. “ Seriously”, I said to him, “doesn’t that list of charges pretty much tell you that I’m out of town??” He apologized and got me back up and running. I was fairly annoyed that I couldn’t pay for dinner, and convinced Emily and Scott that we needed to go somewhere else for drinks, my treat.

Rather than continuing our tour of “places not to be driving a Saab and be white” we headed back to my hotel bar to watch the rest of the Monday Night Football game and have some more beverages. After a couple drinks and some very entertaining college football discussion (which almost led to a brawl thanks to my Boise State sweatshirt and a redneck Florida fan), we said goodnight and they headed home. Isn’t friendship amazing at times? I’m reminded how blessed my life has been to have people in it, that no matter time or distance, there are certain people who find their way back to us, and it’s the same as it ever was. Awesome. I’ve commented many times how there are few things left in life that amaze us, or me, and this is specifically as case of one of them. I hope that this friendship continues without the years of contact but am sure if it is 10 plus years until the next time, the next time will be as awesome as this time was. To Scott and Emily, thanks for dinner and the tour of bad Dallas! Even more so, for simply being awesome. Here’s to next time!

Guess this trip isn’t really a total wash after all…

Stay Blessed-

Post script-
Started this post on Monday morning only to complete it now, Tuesday 1:00 pm Central Time

Chicken Little for Dinner

2009-10-23T14:01:00.001-07:00

It’s been quite a productive week on the work front and in the life of Ryan. Even this morning, before I left the house at a quarter past six, I was able to download the new ‘Dead by Sunrise’ album, get it onto my iPhone, take the dogs out for a very wet and rainy potty, check the bank account, transfer some money between accounts, pay some bills and get the kid up and ready for the day. By 6:35 I had Jackson checked into day care, dry cleaning dropped off and picked up and hitting the freeway with my 16 oz. Quad White Hot Skinny Mocha in hand, rocking out in gridlocked traffic on I-5. It still to this day, amazes me how shitty Seattle drivers are when the rain comes, as if it’s something new to them. Thousands of stupid Chicken Little’s worried that “the sky is falling” as raindrops land on their windshields forcing them to pump the breaks as they grope for the wiper controls in the darkness of their cars interior. It’s asinine and if you happen to be one of those asssholes that can’t figure it out, please, do those of us that are well schooled on the task of driving a vehicle in every weather condition a favor; STAY OFF THE FREEWAY! Seriously, why must you bring your fear of falling rain in the darkness directly in front of my commute. It’s not as if I really want to be into the office on a Friday later than I have to be. Your fears are only prolonging the length of my day and my level of patience is at a bare minimum at that hour of the morning.

Now that that is out of the way, I will step off of my road rage soap-box and get back to the business at hand, me. Like I said, it’s been a pretty fast week all the way around between personal and business. A lot of conversation; good, bad and otherwise indifferent. Even when it seems to be going good, there’s an underlying feeling of unease and restlessness that seems to make time stand still in certain moments. Moments in which the uncertainty of tomorrow seems to be more apparent than ever and there’s an excitement, and a fear, to discover what really lies in the road ahead. In some aspects, the unknown can be pretty cool, nothing left to be predictable. Something new. Someone new. Something different. Someone different. Like Christmas morning all the time, you never know exactly what’s in the box behind the pretty wrapping paper and bows, and there’s so much excitement and sleeplessness that goes into waiting ‘til morning to tear the first part of the paper at the end and seeing exactly what you got. The fear comes when the package is wide open and exposed and it’s not what you thought it would be. After all the days and nights of staring at it under the tree, guessing at what it could be, after all the nights of laying in bed tossing and turning as you think about what could be behind that pretty paper, finding out it’s not really what you wanted and there’s no way you’ll make room in your space to fit in this new gift. I just don’t want to be let down anymore by my imagination, I’ve put too many years down the drain recently, and I don’t want to live that life again. I also don’t want to miss opening the right present. All in all that means opening a few and seeing what’s what. Problem there is it requires effort and time and untangling myself from all that I’m still entrenched in. Maybe one of the boxes will have some landscaping shears or a chainsaw. Yes, that is figurative

Heading to Dallas in a couple of days and there’s a lot to be done before I can head out. The list is long and probably not as time consuming as it looks in my hand. Jackson’s mom is throwing a Halloween party for a bunch of kids on Saturday and my presence has been welcomed. I have very mixed emotions about being ‘invited’ to attend a party in my own home, the one I helped find, work on, live in and formed memories and began raising a child in. It makes me angry and sad that I’m ‘invited’, as if I’m a guest. It’s my house, my home, regardless if I currently live there or not and at the same time, it’s no longer my home or my house to claim. It hurts either way I look at it, being there or not being there, invited or not. I suppose I’d be as pissed if I wasn’t asked to attend, as hurt, maybe more embarrassed than I already feel. I don’t know if I’ll be there or not, it might be too hard and I also might miss out on some awesome fun times with my son if I don’t. I’m frustrated. I’m overwhelmed. Quite honestly, I’m just so tired of feeling ok, almost rad, for a few days and then feeling like someone just gave me a quick kick to the nuts. I’m also very tired of feeling like a whiner, it could always be worse.

A very good friend of mine is going through a similar separation, but one in which the child, who has been her heart and soul since birth, may be taken from her side unless she caves in, to reconcile a situation that will no doubt be worse for her, and her son, in the long run. She mentioned feeling “selfish” for not trying to work it out in fear that she’s “ruining her sons life” by stepping away from the toxic relationship she’s in. I know firsthand that parents that fight and bicker and aren’t in love with one another, don’t create the best environment for raising a child. I’ve been living it, I would know. I mention this only because in the middle of me trying to discover the “why’s” in my own life, I’ve seen an even darker reality for someone I truly care for and want to do everything I can to help. In some weird twilight zone reality, my experiences are allowing me to give council in what really is a horribly difficult situation for her. Guess there’s a bright side to every cloud. Keep her in your own prayers as a mother who’s making an awfully tough decision, it really does suck. She’s in mine hourly.

So there it is, it’s taken me 4 hours to write this much in between solution design sessions, strategy and code development. It’s been a rough day and I am trying to bow out early. Working remote the rest of the day, after I make a stop at the Seattle Home Show and the Rack.

Stay blessed-

Le Cadeau

2009-10-20T12:16:00.001-07:00

Winter is slowly waltzing into October, despite every attempt the sun has been making to delay it. Even global warming can’t stop my windows from being covered in a layer of frost as I walked out to my truck before the sun was up this morning. I hate the cold, the season, the dying of leaves from the trees and the migration of water fowl to warmer climates. Of course, I do enjoy the smells that autumn brings and the slight nip in the air that makes the fireplace a welcome location in my living room. The leaves turning from green to red. The extra heavy sweater that made its way to the back of my closet rotation during the summer. I do find some enjoyment in the changing of the seasons. I am however, starting to spend some time thinking through the upcoming dilemma I have to face around the holidays. As if single parenthood wasn’t challenging enough from a day to day operational standpoint, figuring out the where’s and who’s for Christmas is giving me an ulcer.

For as long as I can remember, my family has always made Christmas a special time. From my earliest memories of having someone in a Santa suit showing up with a bag full of Hot Wheels to those early morning hours where my brother and I would start singing at the top of our lungs around 5 am, to wake my parents up so we could start opening presents, Christmas has always been about family and being together. In 32 years, there’s been only 2 Christmas mornings when I wasn’t present with my parents. This is where my struggle begins, as this being Jackson’s third Christmas of his life, I want him to have the same fond memories each and every year and begin building the same traditions that my mom and dad built for us kids. As I see it right now, that’s not a possibility in the same way it was mine. I know I’m not the only single parent in the world that has had to face down this dilemma, and I also know that Christmas gatherings aren’t the same for every family. For mine, it’s a big deal, and I want it to always be a big deal for Jackson. Maybe I’m selfish, but I can’t imagine ever having a Christmas morning without him, and I’m struggling with him ever having a Christmas morning without his parents, either of us, both of us. His mom is very understanding of this at this time in his life and fully expects that he and I will be traveling to Idaho for Christmas with my family, which is more than awesome. She didn’t have the same type of big deal that I have had and she wants him to have the type of memories that I’ve had with my family, this year. It’s a gift she’s giving me, and gave to me just over two years ago, whether she knows it or not. Undoubtedly though, there will be the conversation at some point a year from now, where she’ll want to be with him for that Christmas, leaving me without him next year and I cannot begin to explain the anxiety that immediately hits me in the chest. Well over a year from now and I’m already melancholy about the scenario. Can I repay the same gift?

Maybe that means I am as selfish as I think I am about my son and the experiences we share together. Maybe it really is a truth that I cannot face, the holding onto my ideal vision of what family really should be. Reality isn’t as cool as I want it to be and less than ideal. Why is it this way? Why can’t I just allow this to be what it is, two parents with equal moments of parenthood, equal desires for themselves and their child, separate? He deserves that, as do we, and yet, I don’t want to miss a thing, and I don’t want her to miss anything. Again, I know we’re not the only parents in the world who deal with this and there will be those of you that tell me it’ll all work itself out, it’s just a part of life. Well friends, it’s not the parts that I signed up for, it’s not the reality that I asked for, but it is what was dealt to me. So I will deal with it, as will they. We get to, not have to, get to. It’s something my old therapist used to explain to me time and time again. We don’t “have” to do anything, we “get” to. You don’t have to do laundry, you are fortunate enough to get to have laundry to do. I wasn’t a subscriber to the thought process for a long time, it took some serious coaching to get me there. One day it just sank in and I’m thankful it did, made these predicaments much easier to “get” to deal with. I don’t want to though and that is an entirely different mindset. I don’t do things I don’t want to do but do things that are less than ideal for the sake of my son, and his mother. It doesn’t make it easier and it doesn’t take away my distress or pain or emptiness. Yes, I guess I am selfish.

Started learning “The Gift” last night in my weekly guitar lesson. The lyric of the song is haunting and so personally close to me that I’m always amazed that someone else found the words that fit before I could put pen to paper. Don’t read too much into this as I swear I’m doing ok. The side of me that thinks like this isn’t running the show, but can be found from time to time, late at night, alone, thinking in the dark. Shaun Morgan just has a way of peering into my head and heart, way too often it seems. If you don’t own a ‘Seether’ album, go get one… “One Cold Night” is a great starting point…

Hold me now I need to feel relief
Like I never wanted anything
I suppose I'll let this go and find a reason I'll hold on to
I'm so ashamed of defeat
And I'm out of reason to believe in me
I'm out of trying to get by

I'm so afraid of the gift you give me
I don't belong here and I'm not well
I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living
I'm right on the wrong side of it all

I can't face myself when I wake up
And look inside a mirror
I'm so ashamed of that thing
I suppose I'll let it go
'till I have something more to say for me
I'm so afraid of defeat
And I'm out of reason to believe in me
I'm out of trying to defy

I'm so afraid of the gift you give me
I don't belong here and I'm not well
I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living
I'm right on the wrong side of it all

Hold me now I need to feel complete
Like I matter to the one I need
I'm so afraid of the gift you give me
I don't belong here and I'm not well
I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living
I'm right on the wrong side of it all
Now I'm ashamed of this
I Am So Ashamed Of This
Now I'm so ashamed of me
I Am So Ashamed Of Me

Stay blessed-

Disconnected Thinking

2009-10-15T22:03:00.000-07:00

I’ve spent a lot of time, or what a lot feels like, over the past few days working on my book. Mainly talking through stories and situations of the past 5 years, focused mainly on the last two+ since the beginning of the life of my son. How vivid the details are of the moments leading up to his arrival, and how different the world has been since he’s been in it. Different in the way that it pains me to think what it would be like without him in it and how clearly changed my life is because of him, in it. I’m a better man because of his life in mine, and I don’t make the choices I had made in my past. I am aware however, that I make some of the same internal mistakes, wish for the same wishes that have never come true, and feel myself feel things I didn’t ever want to feel again, and more so, said I wouldn’t. I’m changing, changed, different than I was at 17, 24, 27, and 32.

I’ve also spent the good part of this week battling a cold, brought straight into my house from disease infested daycare and delivered from my poor two year old who has been miserable since Sunday. His cough, and lack of covering his mouth, has been constant along with a runny nose, fever and itchy eyes. Thanks to his neglect in covering his cough, this same flu has entered my body, rendering me fairly useless to write in this blog. My thoughts have been scattered and without point or direction. So, I’ve started and stopped, started and stopped and tonight, finally trying to make a way through some words. I doubt there’s any wisdom to this post, or even insight. It might be a total waste of your time to sit there and read it, but then so is the countless hours spent on Facebook or Youtube . Yes, guilty as charged, I do it too, living vicariously through other peoples status updates, crazy funny video’s and wishing to participate in the festivities that show up in other peoples “mobile uploads” folders. Sometimes not though, after the last few nights photo’s that have popped up, I’m convinced it’s sometimes safer just to stay home, if nothing more than than for my own posterity. Some of you guys are having way too much fun.

Over the weekend, while doing my rounds at my favorite boutique store, Target (pronounced in a French accent Tar’zay) I came across the newest book from one of my favorite authors, Mitch Albom, titled ‘Have a Little Faith’ . If you haven’t read any of his books, I implore you to go pick any of them up. Each and every one of them is literally food for your soul in one form or another. Some will make you cry from the very first page (‘One More Day’) and others will hold you through every page making you thankful for understanding the written word (‘Tuesdays with Morrie’ and ‘The Five People you Meet in Heaven’). None of them have ever disappointed me and each has led me to other insights into my own interpersonal questions.

Two road trips forthcoming, business in Dallas, personal in Boise. I’ve never been a huge fan of Texas outside of Austin, so there’s no super stoked looking forward to my visit feelings going on. I do, however, have an old friend out there that can hopefully meet up for dinner and catch up from nearly 18 years of life’s various roads. In Boise, I get to meet my new niece who was born Wednesday night. She finally got a name this morning, and thanks to the power of text messaging, my sister, still hospitalized, shot me a message with the name ‘Lily Carter Gross’. My three year old niece, Lily’s sister, Chloe, told her mommy that she thinks the name is stupid. Typical three year old response, I’m so interested in knowing what suggestions she made for her baby sisters name. I can’t wait to meet her and welcome her into our ever growing family.

Chloe and Lily

My chest hurts and my fever is still present, and outside of that, I can’t think of much else to say right now. Clearly my thoughts are all over the board and totally incomplete. Much like my status updates that always end with a dot dot dot, there’s always more to the story and yet, I keep it short and sweet. Like today’s posting, maybe there will be more soon…

Stay blessed-

Ms. Dilemma, why you bother me?

2009-10-06T14:13:00.001-07:00

So here we are on a Tuesday afternoon and it feels like the week is already half way over. Mostly due to the fact that my calendar is overwhelmingly full of meeting after meeting during the day, and with the daylight fading into dusk earlier and earlier each day, it’s starting to become easier to stay in and do nothing , rather than something more productive. That’s such a different mindset to me these days than it was ten years ago, being productive.

In the workplace, I’ve always been a workhorse. Usually trying to tackle more than I should at any given time, working more hours than I should have and investing one hundred percent of my passion into my work. It was always so personal to me that when I wasn’t working, I was fine to do nothing more after hours than sit back, watch TV and veg out. Weekends were for partying and living it up, and there must have been more years of me doing just that than there were of this other mindset, feeling like I always have to be getting something done. The plan tonight consists of getting home to my dogs, walking them to keep the 1’s and 2’s with the great outdoors, a guitar lesson followed by a deep douching of my apartment that needs to be vacuumed and dusted and have laundry folded and put away, a kitchen wiped down, a bedroom or two to be picked up and put away, two bathrooms to be cleaned and after all of that is done, maybe I’ll hit the DVR and a pint of Guinness. Maybe, or maybe once it’s all done, I’ll head to the gym, but only if it’s before 9:00 pm or else I won’t be able to sleep before 11 or 12 and that will roll into another full calendar of meeting after meeting on Wednesday.

“Oh dear dilemma, why must you bother me?”

So this weekend is the final chapter in the saga of couch finding and buying. I cannot go another week without a full-on sectional sofa with a chaise lounge, so that I may run from one end of the apartment into the living room for a giant dive into sweet plushness that will hold me and keep me cozy whilst being non-productive! I’ve narrowed it down to three choices and by Friday, I hope to know exactly which of these three beauties will be coming back with me to stay awhile. No, I’m not speaking figuratively, like some of you noticed in a previous post and called me out on, I’m dead set serious about having a full blown couch in my living room. The search has been painful to find something large enough for the room, which typically wouldn’t be a problem for apartment living, but this place is way bigger than any apartment I’ve ever lived in. In fact, it’s living room is bigger than most of my friends condo’s or even homes. For as much as I have agonized and tormented myself in this search, I am almost certain that as soon as I get this bad girl home this weekend and everything is perfect for a few months, my next place won’t be able to accommodate it and I’ll have to look for a space large enough for it to certainly remain part of the landscape of my living room.

“Um, Ms Dilemma, can you take a break for a few weeks?”

Matisyahu made my playlist this morning, and whether or not you like the idea of a Jewish white guy from New York rapping as if he was a Jamaican Dancehall champion, the guy has got a sound that doesn’t allow you to sit still. ‘Live at Stubbs’ is an awesome live album recorded at a giant Texas club/ BBQ Joint a few years ago. My only problem with any of it though is, what is a Hasidic Jew doing in a BBQ in Texas? Isn’t that completely and totally sacrilegious? All jokes aside, it’s a great album that should put you in a good mood or help you wake up on an overly tired Tuesday morning.

Writing in the afternoon of a workday is totally contradictory to productivity, as I am sure some of you were dying to point out. However, I am skipping lunch to provide some comic relief, fascinating insight and wonderful musical taste. The only other question here now is what to make for dinner? and will Ms. Dilemma be joining me? I sure hope not tonight, I have a whole house to pick up before any company can join me. She’s gonna have to wait until tomorrow

Stay Blessed-

Morning Drive

2009-10-05T08:58:00.000-07:00

It has been an interesting mark in time in my life, to say the least. Days go by where there's not a care or stress in the world of "Ryan", and there's days where time just doesn't move and memories flood my perception of reality to a point where attempting anything productive is futile. I mention this, only as an underlying theme that more than likely runs true in many peoples lives, not just my own. Although, one could gather from reading this dialogue, that my roller coaster of emotion and living is much more up and down than the normal, average, every day Joe. Maybe it is, or maybe because I choose to acknowledge it publicly, it just seems that way. Regardless, I know positively that I'm not the only one riding this same figurative ride, as much as I wish I were. That's the point though, if I was the the lone rider going up, down, side to side and upside down, you wouldn't read this except to feel better about your own life and find solace with yourself. See, I don't think I'm too far left of center when it comes to struggling with living a life that doesn't meet some idealized expectations that we have created for ourselves.

I was almost there, that idea, that everything I had expected to have in this life was right at my finger tips. I had the girl, the home, the dogs, the yard, the child. All of the "things" that from the time we're born to the day we die, we measure ourselves against, and I was the poster child for people to look at and say "damn, he's got the life". The truth is, I didn't have the life, not the way I pictured it and felt as complete as I should have. It's always easy to think those things are the "end all, be all" of dreams and expectations, and they almost were. At the core of every "thing" there has to be one very simple yet complex addition, one in which, all things being equal, has to be given and received. Love; unending, unwavering, unfettered, unconditional, love. There's no room for the "but's" in love, like "I love my house, but I hate the location", that's not love. That's accepting compromise and I've done it my whole life in an effort to not be let down, to not fail. We've all done it, we've all given way to accept the unacceptable from time to time. It's taken me years to realize that I've done it too often in spite of looking out for myself. I've done it to please other people, other women, friends, family, work. I've done it, because I was never convinced that I would meet my own expectations and truly have the picturesque vision of my dreams. Now, that being said, am I saying that I've finally faced down the problems in my own life and heart? Absolutely not, they are still as problematic today as they were last week or last month or even last year. Am I saying that I realize now that the relationships of the past were all wrong? Not for a second am I saying that. For every relationship that has started and ended, I've grown, learned more about being a man in a world full of assholes and douche bags, and I have spent the time dissecting why they ended. I am somewhat convinced that the line between reality and dreamland is fairly skewed and consistently works against us in relationships. Preconceived expectations aren't as possible as we wish they would be, and by no means should anyone settle on second place. God knows, I'm too damn competitive to have anything but the best, but sometimes what we see or perceive to be the best, is a pipe dream, an oasis in the fathoms of desolation that we think is the promised land. I can tell you first hand, from high school until my mid-twenties, every girl was that oasis, and I loved harder each time and fell harder each time and gave of myself more, each time. All for nothing more than a book full of memories and volumes upon volumes of lessons learned. At one point, I vowed to never go down that road again, never letting anyone close enough to have to go through that emotional roller coaster that I figured would inevitably put me back at the end of the line, to wait for my next ride.

If you asked me five months ago if I was right, I would have most certainly said yes. Yes, I'm back in line; alone and hurt and confused. I would have said everything I actually have said in this blog about it over the last five months, but I wouldn't change a thing. That vow to not get back on was one I'm happy to have broken, one that has provided me the greatest gift in the world and another massive volume of lessons learned with some insight into my head and heart that I possibly never would have known otherwise. I have moments where I wish that I could have skipped the last four plus years in that relationship, as if they'd never happened. I have times where I wish I had never met that certain someone, in hopes to escape the pain I feel today. Those moments, those times however, are nothing more than my internal "easy button" escape pod to avoiding the truth. That truth, that I loved unconditionally and unfettered and it wasn't enough. That truth that showed me first hand what it takes to be an amazing parent despite every challenge put in front of you, the same truth that showed me that I'm stronger than I thought I was and patience, be it a virtue or not, can be learned. It's the same truth, that has reminded me that it takes more than just patience and caring to love, it takes work. I've never thought it didn't require work, in fact I preached that more often than I ever should have had to, but it was worth it.

Although it's ended, over, finished, there will never be a time that I look back and wish that it had never been started in the first place. The spite that I've had fall from my tongue from time to time in a defensive fashion has never been encapsulated with true feelings in completion, except in that moment of weakness and despair with my back against a wall and wanting someone to hurt as bad as I did. Which of course, isn't love, it's anger and bitterness, and yes, I've found room for both inside this broken heart of my mine. This process of grief and coping has allowed certain things into me that I never wanted or needed and thus, I'm purging. Trying to put them out of my being and reaching to get my fingers on the handle of this roller coaster, as it's mine to drive.

My Way Home- Citizen Cope
Sometimes I miss a step
I stumble here and there
I'm findin' my way home
If I'm lost then I'll admit
Sometimes i plain forget
I'm findin' my way home
You can try and stand in my way
You can say what you're gonna say
But I'm finding my way home

Stay blessed-

*Post script-
I've been working on my book and think that this section has
a place, thoughts?*

Une fleur willting dans l'obscurité du soleil

2009-10-03T14:34:00.001-07:00

I had a panic attack last night, first time in at least three years. Debilitating and scary, I thought my heart was going to explode from my chest as everything went blurry as I hit the floor. At least twenty minutes went by before I could get up and then I cried for the next two hours, scared to death about what had happened and how to prevent it in the future. That's where the problem is, prevention, and knowing that one is coming on, which in my experience has been next to impossible. I'm even more scared by the situation where my son is present or needing my immediate attention and he finds me on the floor. Last night I couldn't even get to my phone to place a call or send a text off if I had had to. Am I becoming agoraphobic as I seek to find the doorway out of this mental prison my whole being feels trapped in? The first step here is knowing what triggers them and staying away from those trigger points, which at this time, is a blurry island in the distance. I'm starting to think this physical solitude is getting the best of me despite my best efforts to beat it. I don't know how else to spell it out other than to continue to stress my fear in it all and not knowing if help will be on it's way if this continues. What if I can't get to the phone, what if there's no one here to help me, what if something worse than a panic attack happens. I'm scared

I layed in bed for hours this morning with the same questions and emotions flooding my ability to think or see clearly. It was hard to get my feet to the floor wondering if moving would bring on that heart thumping anxiety, which turned into more anxiety about being anxious. By noon I was out of the shower, laundry making it's way through cycle after cycle and I went out the door for some cathartic isolation in a humid guitar room where the only sounds come from the smell of real wood, which drown out the voices in my head. From each strum and pick of a copper string, colors morph from black to blue and red and the simplicity of the guitar becomes the only thought it my head. It's a perfection of beauty in solace.

3 sets of new strings later, I've identified my next guitar purchase to join my growing flock of stringed beauties that make hours feel like minutes and further inspire me to write more and more music and learn those songs that bring feeling to words and emotion to the eyes of those folks smart enough to hear it. I couldn't imagine being one of the people on this planet that doesn't allow music to enter their souls and effect them the way music impacts me. Maybe I should though, from time to time, forget the music and just stay oblivious. HA, as if that would be possible.

Redemption Song keeps running through my head today, which finally defeats
3EB's "How's It Gonna Be", which has been on the tip of my tongue for days now. Today feels like a Bob Marley day, think I'll go grab 'Exodus' and jam out for a bit. Feel free to do the same, turn the lights down, sit back and... yeah, good stuff.

Think anxiety is a good reason to smoke weed? Wonder if I should take that up? Probably not, unless you live in California, maybe there you can do that. Hmmm

So there's the insight into my Saturday (minus one not so awesome conversation, and one really awesome friend who listens to me no matter what), still a lot of day left to go attack as soon as I figure out exactly what that entails. Until then, I'm going to sit back and watch my Bronco's play football, my Sounders play futbol and me taking deep breaths to avoid any further panic immobilizing nonsense today.

Stay Blessed-

Au moins maintenant l'orage ne peut pas me souffler parti

2009-09-30T13:54:00.000-07:00

Well it's been an eventful week in the schizophrenic conversations I've been having with myself. Of course, I've stolen that line from an Aaron Lewis song, but it really has captured what I've been dealing with over the past weeks and months. There are good days, great days, hard days and miserable days. There's good conversations, some funny conversations, and then there's the internal discussions I have with myself that are down right ugly and hurtful and anything far from healing or helpful. I know I'm not the only one that does this, we all do it in one way or another, we're built that way, and anyone who actually says that they aren't introspective and doesn't discuss things with themselves, is either lying or oblivious to their own thoughts. And we all know there are people like that in the world, we see how many of them driving vehicles every morning on our way into work? I know I do, it's why 405 northbound was so backed up this morning, almost making me late to my 8:00 am meeting. Fortunately for me, I actually paid attention to the over road signs on I-5 suggesting I use a different route to Bellevue due to an accident at 44th. Thankfully, I wasn't too engaged in my own conversation while passing under the suggested detour that I missed it.

The conversations have been so all over the place these past few days and although it would probably be somewhat therapeutic for me to write it out here and re-read it later, I'm not going to. For no one's safety but my own, the last thing I need at this point in time is anyone worrying about whether or not I'm ok, doing drugs, needing rehab or a clinical lock down. Yes, things in my head have gone from simple memories with smiles to downright dark anger and bitterness and back to the lessons learned in years of being a simple romantic wanting something better than being alone. I can admit that, as should nearly 100% of you if we're being honest, no one wants to be alone. No one chooses to walk through life without a partner to share in that. I know I didn't necessarily choose it although it was what needed to happen at that juncture in life. I don't know if it was the right choice or if there was something else that could have made things different, but I do know that depending on what day it is, it was the right choice. Of course, that doesn't change the fact that day in and day out, I go home and do whatever it is I need to to stay busy; hit the gym, walk the dogs, play the guitar, write some music, play some video games, chat through text, update my stupid facebook status 50 times, watch a show or twelve, ignore a book staring me in the face, cook, clean, and so on. Anything and everything to stay busy or numb and try to live a life where I don't self destruct, keep my eyes open to new relationships, new friends, new memories, different. I've been burying myself during the day with work, so much so that I haven't kept up on this blog until now, where I've grabbed some spare time where I should be eating lunch, instead to tell you that I am ok. I don't need rehab, I don't need a "House"-like institutionalization to get better. I'm getting better without that, I'm learning what it takes to get beyond, despite the times I write here that I'm not. I don't feel stupid for breaking down from time to time as I write it out, the painful times or the bottom of the barrel moments. I know all too well that I should probably keep my mouth shut, but I don't cause I'm not built that way. I was born a guy who literally wears his heart on his sleeves and tells it like it is, at that moment, and I rarely hold back words or feelings, probably to my own detriment. And yet, I'm proud of that, it's honest and it's real, and I wish more people would do that. If there's one very specific thing I respect its that, whether I agree or approve with it or not. At least it's truth, and although that truth, that reality, cuts right through me from time to time, I'm still here. I have to tell myself from time to time when looking in the mirror, that despite of everything I've ever done wrong, every mistake or withheld truth, I am still here, stronger even when I feel like the load is too heavy to continue carrying, I'm still here. It would, however, be nice to share that load with someone else, which I guess is really just figurative. I do not want or need someone in my life to simply deal with my shit and fix it, rather someone to share in life, walk through life together and grow in this life. Don't you?

If you don't agree, then maybe you are a part of the small percentage of the world that should be alone, and that's cool too. To each their own, right? No matter how much work I put into me right now and focus on being a better dad and better man, my viewpoint on partnership and relationships won't change. I'm guarded though, a giant wall with binoculars present to make sure that feelings are real, that expectations are achievable and that no one unnecessarily gets hurt, all while trying to ensure that at the end of this life, I don't die alone. I don't know if that's possible, letting someone in without giving away the keys, and maybe I won't. Maybe I do die alone some day long from today, maybe that's ok too. These are the conversations I have with myself that are at the light end of the spectrum, the ones that don't really keep me up all night, but give me food for more thought, more conversations, more something. More, I guess, than staying busy and buried in the monotony of always trying to stay busy.

Stay blessed-

Schizophrenic Conversations lyrics

Are you afraid, afraid of the truth
in the mirror staring back at you
The image is cracked, but so it the view here
and the strength of a tree begins in the roots.
That I tend to bury into to you
At least now the storm can't blow me away

So crawl inside my head with me.
I'll show you how it feels to be
To blame like me.

Should I be afraid of this face that I see
In the mirror staring back at me
So cold were the days when I listened to you.
And you say that I'm weak, so show me the proof
Cause I still exist in spite of you
But I won't compete with you everyday,

So crawl inside my head with me,
I'll show you how it feels to be
To blame like me

Schizophrenic conversations that
I'm always having with myself
I hear these voices in my head competing
Maybe I could use a little help
I still have Schizophrenic conversations when there's no one else around to hear
I long for solitude and peace within me
Void of all the anger and the fear.

So crawl inside my head with me
I'll show you how it feels to be
Fucked up like me.

I'll show you how it feels to be
To blame like me
ashamed like me

5 Stages of something

2009-09-27T17:58:00.000-07:00

You know it's always bound to be an emotional kinda evening when you sit down with a guitar, a cup of coffee and a cigarette and turn on the songs that make you cry at a moments notice, just for where they take you, or had taken you, at one time or another. For me, there's only a handful of songs that can put me on my knees and take my breath away. Those are the ones that I do everything I can to avoid when sitting in solace like I am tonight, and there's an urge to simply push out this, whatever it is, inside of me. The other night, a friend sent me a text, obviously inspired by the season opener of "Grey's Anatomy", which I would discover the day after. It read, "there are 5 stages to grief: Denial, Anger, Depression, Bargaining and Acceptance...Where do u think u r?" and in my haste to respond via text, cause you can't be too slow on the response or else it seems like you don't know what you're doing, I responded with "Depression and anger and bargaining...I'm all of that" and pressed send. That was Thursday last week and I've since had a lot of time to think and well, yeah, I watched 'Grey's' and cried through the first 14 minutes like a little girl and then I laughed and well finished the 2 hour episode in tears again. As I look at where I am today, I think I'm 4.5 out of 5 of those, the one I have yet to wrap my arms around is the acceptance piece, but fuck am I trying like hell to just accept where I am at 32; as a man, as a son, a father, a brother and a friend. I don't know if this is supposed to get easier, fighting against the world who tells me it will, fighting against the depression and the anger and the bargaining chips that I don't posses. Yeah, I battle depression, that shouldn't be a secret to anyone anymore and there's some days that are harder than others, and there's days where it doesn't hit me at all. I've been burying myself into work and the songwriting and trying to make something more of this life, one little breath at a time.

When my Grandmother passed away, I went to Boise for the funeral and it was suddenly a different place at my parents home. A big piece of our family was gone, and not just a big piece, the cornerstone of our family was missing. I spent a good amount of time that trip home just driving and listening to music. I bought close to 12 different albums that 3 days and listened to every song just looking for something to help me not think and feel. I picked up some angst driven punk Cd's, some shit I'd never heard of and wouldn't you know one of those contained "one of those songs" that I try and skip if it comes on my random play lists. It's from a Florida band called 'Yellowcard' and the song "View from Heaven" hit way to close for me. It was everything she possessed in my life and fit exactly what I would have said to her had I been there when her last breath came and went.

i'm just so tired
wont you sing me to sleep
and fly through my dreams
so i can hitch a ride with you tonight
and get away from this place
have a new name and face
i just aint the same without you in my life
late night drives, all alone in my car
i can't help but start
singing lines from all our favorite songs
and melodies in the air
singin life just aint fair
sometimes i still just can't believe you're gone
and im sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven,
maybe we'll make it through one more year
down here

feel your fire,
when its cold in my heart
and things sorta start
remindin' me of my last night with you
i only need one more day
just one more chance to say
i wish that i had gone up with you too
and i'm sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven
maybe we'll make it through one more year
down here

you wont be comin' back
and i didn't get to say goodbye (goodbye)
i really wish i got to say goodbye
and im sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven
maybe we'll make it through one more year
i hope that all is well in heaven
cause it's all shot to hell down here
i hope that i find you in heaven
cause i'm so...
lost without you down here
you wont be coming back
and i didn't get to say goodbye (goodbye)
i really wish i got to say gooooodbye

When my best friend left this earth just shy of a year later, my world came crashing down and I've never been able to let go of that loss. I've talked about him a lot in this ongoing dialogue between me as the writer and you as the reader. He was an amazing man, not without faults, but a man that I miss severely, especially when I'm in this struggle with acceptance. I've accepted his departure, there's nothing more to really argue about. He's gone, but his memory is constantly on my mind and my heart. Counting Crows has 2 songs that will forever make me think of him, "Raining in Baltimore" and "Hazy". I think Raining impacts me the most, thinking back to the drive after the phone call when I found out he was gone. I jumped in my truck about 2 hours after the news and hit the road, Boise bound yet again for a loss. It was foggy and rained almost the entire drive through the night. I cried and yelled almost that entire eight hour drive, depression and anger, and I couldn't stop thinking about this song.

This circus is falling down on its knees
The big top is crumbling down
It's raining in Baltimore fifty miles east
Where you should be, no one's around
I need a phone call
I need a raincoat
I need a big love
I need a phone call

These train conversations are passing me by
And I don't have nothing to say
You get what you pay for
But I just had no intention of living this way

I need a phone call
I need a plane ride
I need a sunburn
I need a raincoat

And I get no answers
And I don't get no change
It's raining in Baltimore, baby
But everything else is the same
There's things I remember and things I forget
I miss you I guess that I should
Three thousand five hundred miles away
But what would you change if you could?
I need a phone call
Maybe I should buy a new car
I can always hear a freight train If I listen real hard
And I wish, I wish it was a small world
Because I'm lonely for the big towns
I'd like to hear a little guitar
I think it's time to put the top down
I need a phone callI need a raincoat

Tonight I am missing you, those of you that I have lost a long the way. Tonight, I sit here by candle light and remember those short times we had...and for those of you that read this and think that I only ever talk about "losing these two amazing people, move on" I'm sorry, this is what comes out of me when I'm 12 feet down in a hole and trying to figure out how to get the fuck back up. These people help me see that there's more to this earth than what I am dealing with and it's ok to keep going. No, I don't dwell on the topic and I don't bask in their memories, but not a day goes by that these 2 don't cross my mind and provide me very different ways of handling things. Deal with it or don't reaad this anymore, choice is yours.

I have a lot more to say about all of this, but for another time. I'm burned out, bummed out and wishing things were different from so many angles. But like I said to someone earlier today, "wishes are like dreams", keep them in thoughts but don't bank on them. You'll only be disapointed in the end, and this guy, can't handle any more disapointment right now. So I'm keeping my head up, my eyes open and ready for the big show. Although, acceptance can kiss my ass for now.

Stay blessed-

Door to Door

2009-09-22T07:45:00.001-07:00

Pity parties are not my favorite way to spend an evening, as I'm sure it's not your preferred method of getting down. Once in awhile though, it gets so bottled up that I leave myself with very few mediums of getting it out of my system. Sunday night, I blew up internally and let my words do some expunging of the frustration building up inside of me, and for that I make no consolations. I know that's not what people stop in to read, unless you enjoy knowing your life is much more pleasant than mine at times, but I guarantee it's probably not as cool. OK, maybe it is, maybe it's cooler, no pissing contests here today, but I guarantee that if you're at home tonight watching TV or sitting down to play video games online, you're not having as much fun as I will be (yes, pissing match just started).

Today marks the official start of the fall season, although based on the television lineup last night, I think they started a day early. At 11:44 Eastern, fall officially arrives, I'm still uncertain how that time came to be, but I'm going to jump over to wikipedia real quick and get an answer...one sec.
OK, Wiki has a dumb answer but you can read it here.

So yeah, it's about to be Autumn or fall and thus begins the worst time of the year for me. It's that season where I really still want to wear T-shirts and shorts and flip flops but the rainy season here in the Pacific Northwest leaves me with wet feet and goosebumps. It does, however, allow me the opportunity to turn up the fireplace, grab a nice warm blanket and chill out in my living room. Especially once I find the right sectional sofa for the giant living room that is currently eclipsing the size of the second hand love seat and lamp combo currently residing there. I never realized just how hard it is to find the right furniture, the right amount of cushion with the right amount of support. Much like most things in my life, the right couch is like a unicorn, evasive and impossible to find just the right one. The one that just feels right; there's plenty that are close and may even seem perfect in the moment, but after laying on them for a few hours, something just doesn't feel right. There's a bump here in my lower back or the arm is just too high to rest my head without hurting my neck, the cushions aren't at the same level as the ottoman so my feet fall asleep, or the color fades too much to still match the rest of the room. It's disappointing to be honest, especially when one feels like the right fit and after a few years of hanging out and making plans, you just realize that it's time for a new couch. I've grown tired of looking for the right couch, so now I'm hoping to find a door to door sales person selling couches that can bring over samples and let me try out a few. Do they still do that? I doubt it, but wouldn't that be cool?

My friends in NON-P(www.non-p.me)were announced as finalists in the 98.7 Rockstar contest in LA last night! They are in the Top 5, out of however many hundreds of LA bands, performing this Friday night at City Walk in Orange County. I got to hang out with them for two shows this past weekend and like always, they brought it. I'm super proud and stoked for them. Please, if you haven't already downloaded the first single off of iTunes, please go check out "One of those Days" and start rocking it out in your car with the windows rolled down for everyone to hear. Even if it is about to be fall, or autumn, it'll give you a chance to get your heaters warmed up for winter.

That's my rant today, I need a good couch to get cozy on as we enter Fall. One that will be there to catch me after work, lay around and listen to me discuss all things awesome and rad and sometimes catch a tear or two (I can't always be smiling). One that's supportive and comfortable and well, just feels right and likes to be close. Why is that so hard to find?

Stay blessed-

Disarmed

2009-09-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

It's been 10 days since I've written and it's been a pretty strange 10 days. Since the last time, I've quit a job, started a job, been hurt(ing), caused some pain, caught up with old friends and new, attended a wedding, rode a ferry or two, driven about 800 miles, sent and received about 600 text messages, walked more than 8 miles, drank more than 20 gallons of coffee(total guess), 15 cans of Rockstar, bought some artwork, hung some photos, took some photos, saw my boys in Non-P play 2 shows and well, there's a ton of other details that include working and sleeping, but that's not nearly as interesting as the rest of my last 10 days. Maybe it is, guess that all depends on how much you enjoy reading this shit. Personally, I've been staying as busy as possible so as to not write here and have to actually sit back and think through, more than I already do, the things that keep me up at night and make me crazy throughout the day. I've been fighting, really really fighting not to let myself hit these walls that I've been seeming to have to scale at least once a week and sometimes once a day. Each time it seems to go almost as fast it showed up and once in awhile, it hangs out a little longer than I'm able to simply push down inside. Those times have become fewer and fewer as I continue to move forward with the life I'm living, but damnit all, when I get hit, it's like a train crash. So yeah, that's the last 10 days in a nutshell. You can guess, I'm not having much fun tonight, way too many things I want to say, and scream and yell and well, I'm not sure it's worth it anymore. I mean, is it going to matter at the end of the day or at the end of this life? Will this time really mean as much 10 years from now as it has over the last 10 days or 5 months? Knowing this, can anyone answer why I suck so bad at just moving forward? I'm trying, damn am I ever trying, and yet the thought of it eats me to the core and I get swallowed up by the emotion of memories and thoughts of just cashing it in for now. Fuck it, this is exactly why I haven't been writing lately. I don't want to talk like this or about this and show the weaknesses in my armour. There's so much more to me than all of this pain and self deprecation and the one trick pony show that paints me to be so, dare I say emo, is starting to make me feel foolish and less the man I am.

I have a book to write, and really do need to spend some time trying to focus more on it than what I'm dealing with right now. Maybe it'll be as cathartic as I need it be, but rarely are expectations even close to being met. God knows, I need a way to vent it out, just need to find the medium. Until then, there will probably be something like this shit from time to time instead of the recount I often find myself spewing out.

Stay blessed and say a prayer for this guy-

Nothing...man

2009-09-10T08:17:00.000-07:00

It’s getting closer to the end of my final two weeks at my current J-O-B and this is my final train ride into the city today. It’s been an interesting year to say the least, all sorts of new challenges, new schedules, and people, such different people. I don’t think I’ve ever worked with such a diverse group of people, not even in college. I’ve told this story in person a few times, and may have even written about it here a while ago. I started with this company a year ago this month, quickly getting into the daily train commute and subsequent walk through the city to the giant doors of my building. I think it must have been late October or November one morning, the air was getting colder day by day and the sun wasn’t showing it’s warming face as early as it does in the summer months. The raining season in Seattle approaching, winter was definitely on it’s way in. One morning, as I came down the steps at 1st and Seneca toward the waterfront, I noticed a homeless kid in the alley way on Pike and couldn’t help but think how miserable it has to be the not get inside to the warmth of central air and the access to a hot shower and homemade meal. For a moment, I looked on, grateful that nothing had ever put me in that place, without a home. I continued into the office and sent an email off to a friend who organizes a coat and blanket drive for the Seattle dissidents every winter, to volunteer my time and see if there was anything else I could assist with. Apparently the kid in the alley struck a nerve with me and I wanted to do what I could to possibly make sure more kids like him didn’t freeze in the sunless Pacific Northwest winter. I pressed send on my e-mail, grabbed my coffee cup and headed for the 6th floor kitchen to fill up. As I entered the hallway, the same homeless kid I had seen not 15 min earlier, passed me in the hallway of my office building, smiled and said “good morning”. I paused, momentarily speechless, and watched him walk over to a work station, sit down and log into a computer. Headset put in place over his lengthy dreadlocks, he began taking inbound calls from customers! This wasn’t some kid living on the streets of Seattle, this was a highly technical, very smart engineer who happened to look like a hopeless gypsy! Talk about a wake-up call to perception and a new view on the people I was working around. Yeah, diverse isn’t even the appropriate adjective to describe my fellow co-workers. I’m still searching for the appropriate term here.

As I enter the city for my final 2 days of “work” a few things have been on my mind and there’s a pressure to finish everything I started out to do here, along with some other tasks that do require my touch prior to wrapping up this short chapter of professional life. I always want to make sure to leave a place better than I found it, much like what the forest service asks of you when ever you camp out. I feel like I’ve done that, added some significant value and developed some processes and programs that I can only hope will carry on and continue to grow long after I’m gone. This wasn’t the most efficient shop when I arrived here and in terms of normal business operations, it was far from optimal. I’d like to think I’ve made an impact there, of which I’ll spare those of you who could care less, the details. On the people side, I know there’s been tremendous growth and a change in attitude by those folks who’s job every day consists of being beaten and chewed by angry customers, thinking no one cares about them. These guys have come a long way from the day I came here. When I first arrived on the scene, none of them wanted anything to do with me or my corporate mentality. You would have thought I was wearing trousers or a suit amongst their big city bohemian garb, and because I wasn’t one of them bleeding company colors, it took a long time to gain their trust and their friendship. I'm still probably not everyone's favorite child here, especially since announcing my departure plans, it's gotten very quiet for me. Boredom has hit an all time high but I'm finding plenty of time to do pretty much whatever I want without a looming deadline. Like this blog, I feel like just writing and writing and writing...

On the other personal side of Ryan, I've become a sounding board of advice for quite a few different people lately and honestly, I've missed being the advice man. I think I have some pretty valid insight into all things personal and relationship-y, even if I suck at following my own advice. Like a friend told me last night, who is identical in this situation, asking myself "what I would tell someone in the same situation" and not agreeing with that advice. It's true, and when someone doesn't heed my advice, I get a little sensitive (just a little), so should I be mad at myself for not taking my own two cents? I guess that's where the self deprecation starts and maybe, just maybe, for the first time in my life, I'm listening to my own advice and learning to let go. One breath and one whisper at a time, the days are getting easier but the thoughts of truly moving beyond is keeping me awake at night, less and less of course, but not to a point where a smile is constantly on the verge of my lips. That's a tough pill to swallow, as the friends and family in my life really do deserve to have that guy in the picture, not the one holding onto something that will prolong a life less meaningful. As a hopeless romantic, I know nothing else but to hold on, despite the knowledge that I have to really begin the letting go. I ended a piece the other day saying just that, and I do mean it, but I continue to teeter and sway and don't know what it's going to take to fall off the side. When that time comes, who knows, and really do I care? I want to have as much fun living as possible and enjoy new friendships and old ones that have been missing and see what the road leads to. My eyes are wide as the possibilities are limitless without reigns and I'm stoked about that. I'll just keep going and going and living and I know eventually one door will close and another will open, that's how life works.

Randomness on the playlist this morning, but have been listening to old Candlebox and Alice in Chains a lot lately. Something between the glam rock and darkness is a beauty that we haven't seen in current music outside of some lyrical gems from songwriters like Damian Rice and Pete Yorn. Even in the sunshine of Seattle end of summer season walking through the city, the black difference in my ears keeps my feet moving and reminds me to be thankful for the ability to hear and feel through music. I couldn't imagine a life without it, and I guess I'd honestly not have a life without it.

I just had a tech agent ask me, in total sincerity "what are we supposed to do without you now" and I smiled back and said "exactly what you've been doing, only better". It feels good to know that one of my biggest disbelievers when I arrived, was now a giant fan of mine and was concerned with what happens next. Guess I left my mark on some, may have to punch a couple others as mementos (I kid of course).

Enjoy your Thursday! I am

Stay blessed-

Lame Duck, not lame...Quack

2009-09-08T10:18:00.000-07:00

Well the 12 month experiment is almost over here at this little start-up I've talked about over the last year. This is my final week riding the train into work, final week of walking the city streets of downtown Seattle, and final week of working side by side with some really cool and not so cool people. I thought I'd be more bummed out about leaving this place, but I think it's the people I'll miss the most. That and the fact that even as a manager, I can throw on skate shoes, jeans and a t shirt and no one really questions my sanity. That'll change next week as I enter the new world of working in Bellevue. I'm more than stoked about the new job and having to dress like an adult, it'll be good to put some dough back into my dry cleaners pockets again, plus I personally think I clean up pretty well. It's funny when people who know me and my normal garb, see me in a jacket and slacks, they don't believe it. On the flip side are the people who have only ever seen me in business attire and the looks on their faces when they see me in a t shirt and my tattoo's, it's almost like they don't believe it. I think I like that reaction even more, especially since it pulls them into my world and knowing more about me. I've really reserved that for the right times and the right people.

When I was younger and thought my shit didn't stink, I could have cared less what people thought about me. Didn't care if I offended anyone, or rubbed someone the wrong way. I approached everything with the confidence of a seasoned vet, even when I didn't have the first clue about something. I had a story to tell for any part of a conversation, and I never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

That was my 20's, full of me and the 200 different masks I could wear at any given time. I'm fortunate that I do have the people in my life that stood by me through all the bullshit and just shit that wasn't the real me and invested their time to know the me inside of me.

In my 30's, I've grown up(a little), finally, but am still the kid that wants to go-go-go and be a part of everything fun. My desire to create new relationships and expand or revive old ones has really cropped up to a point where I'm actually following up on doing just that. It's refreshing to have a phone call with someone that last 2 hours that isn't about work, talk about life and kids and random crazy events and make plans. Normal stuff that I haven't been participating in for a long time, to no one's fault but my own. I just forgot to live as the whole me to some extent and I know that it took me being a single man on my own to own up to it. I never wanted to admit to a dependency, a quiet succumbing to suburban sprawl leaving behind those who had stuck by me through thick and thin. Don't get me wrong, they were never gone nor forgotten, just a million miles from my side. And I was with a woman who was truly my best friend, that I shared everything with, I didn't know I needed them as much as I did and still do. So I've grown up, needing them more than ever, and they didn't forget me. I am blessed in so many ways that it should make it hard to ever feel the pain in this loss or the hurt of change. As humans, we hold on longer than we should, which is ok when it's a welcoming hug or long kiss goodnight. But when it's feelings, real rip-your-guts-out-not-sleeping-not-eating-sick-of-it-all-hate-everything-love-everything feelings, those aren't so easy to release. The scars stay pretty apparent for awhile and even in three or four months now, they are finally starting to fade to a point where smiling comes easy, and the tears stay behind their dam a little longer each day. That doesn't mean I don't think or even dwell on the past, still getting upset from time to time, but I know that the past is that and the future can only be different if I let go. I wish it was truly as simple as writing these words, it's not. That's the truth no matter how I try and spin it. So for now...

This is me, letting go

Stay blessed-

Si l'aint de ciel aiment beaucoup les bois

2009-09-03T07:02:00.001-07:00

I owe some updates from Friday through this week but they'll have to come at another time. At this moment, I'm ignoring anything other than the fact that it's game day, finally, college football season kicks off tonight and Boise State is going to be shooting Ducks out of the sky at Bronco Stadium. The only thing that would make this better is if I was in Boise to watch this game. Tonight however, it'll be a father and son football night, rocking our blue and orange gear cheering on our (my) favorite college football program. Some day Jackson will thank me for this, or become a Vandal (like I was at one time), hell, U of I is a fun place at 18 years of age. Fortunately, I have 16 more years before we have to get to that point! I know I can't even begin to think about handling that right now.

Last night as I was driving home, I passed an older, mid-seventies bright yellow mustang for sale. On the windows in soap writing, it read, "Yes it runs! Needs TLC" and I shot back in my memory bank to a time when I spent countless hours working out plans to convince my folks to buy me a car. I remember thinking that $2,000 bucks didn't seem like a lot of money, but $7,000 did, and I really, even at 15 years old, had no concept of money. Maybe I still don't, as two grand doesn't seem like a lot of dough for a decent running vehicle. I think what scared me even more, was that at some point, I will have to buy him a car, and my adolescent toddler will be driving on the road and making choices and have to be responsible for things that even I at this age, do not want to be responsible for. They always said that becoming a parent will really change your life, but internal conversations like these really become the proof that it does. I was thinking about the day I got my license in Idaho, and it still feels like yesterday, even though it was 17 years ago. I'll never forget it, I had a '79 Honda Prelude from my grandmother that sat in front of my folks house for nearly 8 months before I could even drive it. I washed that thing every couple of days and started it every other day. I couldn't wait to be out driving. December 23rd, 1993, my mom and little sister piled into my 'lude' and my mom drove me out to city hall in Meridian to get my photo taken and get my actual license. When the lady behind the counter handed me that piece of molded plastic with my name and picture on it, it was like handing me the freedom to go anywhere I wanted at any point in time. I was 15! We went back to the car, smiling from ear to ear, I opened the passenger door for my sis and mom, and jumped into the driver seat. 15 miles back to the house, I followed the speed limit, did the S.M.O.G. procedure (Signal, Mirror, Over the shoulder, Go) and promptly pulled into the driveway. Mom and sister out of the car and I pulled away from the house, freedom of the wheel and road, all by my 15 year old self! I've been driving ever since with minimal interference from law enforcement and other vehicles, I've been lucky though. I hope I'm as cool with Jackson just coming and going as my folks were with me, but damn, I'd be lying if I said the thought doesn't scare the shit out of me, and I have how many years to work up to this??

Two new bands on the iPhone this week, one not so new but new to me. Secret Machines and Pop Evil, two totally different types of music and two different attitudes all together, both killing it in my headphones. If you like Jesus Jones/Pink Floyd/Jane's Addiction go check out Secret Machines (10 Silver Drops or Now Here is Nowhere) and if you just wanna rock out, Pop Evil are the suggestions this week.

Had a hell of a time staying on track mentally last night. I've known this for a long time, admittedly without acknowledgment, I am not good at being alone. Even having the dogs with me, wasn't enough to keep me from spending too much time and energy thinking about the past and wanting to make adjustments to the past, changes that maybe could have changed where I dwell these days. And maybe there's nothing I could have done differently that would have changed this. God knows, there's nothing I would change about having my son, and I don't think that at this point in my life should I be so concerned about the past, but it doesn't hurt any less and it doesn't make me stoked to only have two dogs to share in the glories of victory and the pains of loss. I, like many, need the feedback, the reaction, and without it, it's just not as fulfilling or comforting. At least I'm back to normal sleeping, normal to say 5-6 hours a night is enough, but at least these past couple of weeks have been easier to close my eyes and get through the night. That's a win!

So, here's to the rest of today going by quickly. I cannot wait for kickoff at 7:15 PT and my fantasy league draft, oh, and don't forget the Seahawks/Raiders preseason match up tonight as well. Looks like both of my teams in Blue are heading for a victory tonight, should be a great night, especially with my best guy sitting along side and cheering on the Bronco's!

Stay blessed-

Here I go again on my...

2009-09-01T06:55:00.000-07:00

One week down in 2 postings and another weeks worth of writing to get out. I'm not sure I did justice to the trip to Boise in my postings. I kind of rushed right through a lot of it, just trying to get some words down before it became too late in the game. And there's the last week, one which contained so much random chaos and exciting opportunities, that to skip right past it would be doing myself a disservice. I like to think I have quite the memory, that I remember details and points in time better than most, but as this life has become more and more abundantly busy, I'm concerned there may be a few things I'll pass right over if I don't document them. That being said, the next few pieces will probably be more of a recount of happenings more so than any insight I may have on the life I live. I guess they are one in the same, the experiences and the feelings. They do go hand in hand, and it would be really tough to have one without the other, unless you have amnesia. Time to time, I'd really like to be diagnosed with some sort of selective amnesia, where the parts of life that make it difficult to breathe as my heart cinches down on my lungs, could be erased as to not have to struggle out of their grip. Day to day would be easier, but losing any of that would be in direct conflict with who I have become, and worse, who I am becoming. Finally out of the rut, for now, that has been holding me under the mud and fallen rain, pooling up along the 4X4 trail of life. When I get stuck again isn't for me to ponder and worry about, it'll probably happen, and I'll search for that perfect winch spot to pull my ass end out again.

After returning from our trip it was obvious to me that staying home from the office the following Monday, was going to be necessary. Not feeling too awesome, having a few loads of laundry to run and a million new toys to get put away were going to require some attention and time, two things that have been in short supply for a fair amount of time. So I worked remote, got a lot done, both in the apartment and at work. I'm one of those people that when I work remote, without all the interruptions and goings on, I can complete about 12 hours of "in-office" work in about 5 hours. It's a wonderful thing, especially after being gone for 3 days and returning to 1100 emails, 12 voicemails and one fire after another to put out. It's an accomplished day when you can bust through those returns, and this day in particular wasn't any different. It also turned into an opportunity that hadn't been there prior to leaving for Boise the Friday before. About 11:30 a friend of mine sent me an IM (Instant Message folks) asking if I could be available for a phone screen with a company that afternoon. Phone Screen? It had been a really long time since I'd spent time on the phone talking with a potential employers recruiting department to discuss my resume and hear more about a new possible position. It's no secret to anyone that I haven't been too stoked in my current role and I was curious to hear that someone had seen my resume and wanted to talk with me. We set a time for them to call me, I did some background research on the company over 10 or 15 minutes and nearly forgot about the screening until the minute before the call came in. Phone rings and I answer in the appropriate professional manner, "Whatup! You got Ryan", not really, but it always sounds like a good way to make a first impression, right? I answer the phone and am greeted by the Executive Vice President of Global Operations for this company! OK, not who I expected to be calling, in fact, 1000% different than getting a call from a contracted recruiter asking basic questions to decipher if your resume is bullshit or not. And in turn, this was no phone screening or even an interview, this was a 30 minute conversation full of laughs and business theory and more laughs. He wrapped up the conversation asking about my schedule the rest of the week and when I could come in to formalize the process they were working within. The office is in downtown Bellevue, and I had a dentist appointment the following day in the neighboring city of Redmond at 4:00 which left me available around 5:30, and so we set up a formal interview. By 5:40 pm on Tuesday I found myself wearing jeans and an untucked button up shirt, sitting in the office of the EVP of Global Operations on the 16th floor of a brand new building overlooking all of downtown Bellevue, still trying to figure out how I got here. We joked briefly that when he told me to come casual, I followed directions to a tee. I realized I wasn't in my normal interview garb, but explained that wearing trousers in my office might get you beat up. He replied, no shit, "Saying the word trousers might get you beat up too, huh?" Classic, it was all laughs and all comfortable. For the next hour and a half we discussed the project they were preparing to start, my thoughts on it, my experiences, a lot of joking and well, my future with them. Who really talks about the future when you're not even in the door yet? Apparently I get to, or got to, and we ended the meeting with two simple questions from the EVP:

1- Are you interested? To which I responded, "I'd be lying if I didn't say absolutely" which in turn he responded "Than say 'absolutely'!" and
2- What is your availability?

I walked out of there and got in my truck knowing that I was getting to resign from my current station and move on to a bigger thing, a bigger business, a bigger paycheck and finally, after 11 years of getting my teeth kicked in by the companies I worked for, I was getting the role I deserved to have and moving my professional life forward to a point where everything changes from here. In essence, I'm really playing ball with the big dogs now, and I couldn't be more excited or stoked! It's an amazing feat that is going to change so much for me and more importantly Jackson. Within the next year, this living in an apartment and the south end, will be a distant memory. That's right, I'm going going, back back to the EASTSIDE. Think I'm excited?

After a couple of days of waiting, Thursday afternoon hit and the official offer letter came through and it was all I could do to hold back my excitement while I was still in my office. Had my boss been available at the time, I would have done what I had to wait until Friday morning to do, resign.

So, I'm 9 days away from my last day here, not that I'm counting down or anything. Really just looking at it as a very small window of time to wrap things up, make sure I leave this place better than I got it, and of course spend my last hours in the building drinking keg beer on the 7th floor patio! I will miss that part of this place for sure.

So, that gets me through Friday morning's resignation and the weekend just became one glorious random event after another, which is for another post all together.

Stay blessed and enjoy your day-

Les Bois, part deux

2009-08-31T14:13:00.000-07:00

**Yes, I'm a week behind** Read part 1 before attempting this piece...

Friday morning quickly turned into Saturday morning as the drinks went from a couple to much more than that, and as we made our way out of the final bar back to the car, my brother and his girlfriend made stop after stop on the street to talk with group after group of friends. I remember a time when I lived in that city, where I knew everyone. I couldn't go anywhere without running into someone I knew from high school or college or my life following those two points in time. I had that city wired and at the time it seemed a little annoying, never a time where I could just blend into the shadows of the summer night sky, and this time, I actually missed it a little bit. Just a little bit, not enough to lose sleep over it, but enough that I spent a few seconds writing about it. Out of one of the many groups of friends we passed through, we picked up an additional passenger, and oh boy was this one having a good time being who she was! I don't think I've ever heard a girl laugh as loud as this one did and she was entertaining to say the least, and getting her back to my brothers place couldn't happen fast enough for the safety of everyone else driving through West Boise at 2:30 in the morning. I dropped the kids off at my brothers truck, got back to my parents place, popped in on my sleeping monkey oblivious to the fact that his daddy had been out all night with good friends and would be waking up in just under 4 hours to take him to a photo shoot.

6:30 am came much quicker than I would have liked, but that's pretty much how it works when you say you'll be in bed by 11:30 and hit the pillow after 2:45. Despite the lack of sleep, we were up and out of the house by 7:30 and on our way to meet Kam for some outdoor, perfect lighting, picture taking with Jackson and I. Kam shot his baby photo's when he was about 3 months old in her home studio and this being a pretty major transitional period for him because of where Jamie and I are in our lives apart, I figured what better time to have some father-son pictures taken by one of my favorite local photographers in an outdoor setting. Jackson thought otherwise, as setup after setup, he wanted nothing to do with cooperating. If only toddlers understood money and what these types of things cost, they might appreciate it more. We worked like crazy to get him stoked about the situation, squeezing rubber chickens that made a sound that I imagine mimic a dying cow, tossed colored balls around to no avail, and even brought in his cousin Chloe for a few shots. It was all for not, he didn't care what we wanted to do, he wasn't doing anything he didn't want to do. In a weird way, despite how frustrated I felt, I was a little proud of him for sticking to his guns. If there's any trait that both his mother and I posses, it's that we are very stubborn and strong in our convictions, even if it is the difference between a good picture or wasted cash. Kam seems to think we got some great, albeit amazing, shots and I am so looking forward to seeing the fruits of the labor we performed with the dying chicken.

We all headed to breakfast from there at the world famous Ihop; my sister, mom, niece, Jackson and I. I don't think any of us particularly care for a single menu item, but it's almost become a tradition when I come into town, and it's very easy with toddlers (My dad might be the exception, he loves the "Rooty Tooty fresh and fruity". Still not sure what that all consists of but he always orders it). We did the breakfast thing and headed home to my folks place where I participated in a very long, much needed nap. I never get to nap anymore, but I always find time when I'm in Boise. Got up around 3 and took Jackson down to Black Cat Tattoo to see Sean and the guys, made a coffee run and headed out to Eagle.

I hadn't introduced Jackson to my grandmother, it had never been the right time or even a time when we had the time to visit. I hadn't been out there for more than a year and this time it just felt like it was something I needed to do. My grandmother is buried at Dry Creek Cemetery, set a top the Boise foothills overlooking Eagle and the valley on the old highway headed to Horseshoe Bend. It's a beautiful place, lots of trees and grass, well maintained. There's yet to be a time that I've driven onto that property where a giant lump doesn't begin to build up in my throat, and the damn holding back the tears doesn't spring a leak. Even as I write this, this morning, I feel the same physical effects. This visit wasn't any different, in fact, it was even harder than any time before to hold back the inevitable. Having my son present to see who helped make me the man I am today was really important to me, and although I know he has zero concept of where he was or what it meant to be in that place, I felt like it was something I needed to do. I could hear her laugh and see the pride in her face had she been standing there looking at him. I saw those smiles as a child every time she was near and heard those laughs as we played. I could feel that hug that only my grandma had, and I knew how much she would have loved him. For a moment, I could feel her there, looking down on me and Jackson and wanting to wipe away my tears as I spoke to her and explained to him who she was, and still is, in my life. It was a very hard thing for me to sit there in the grass with him in my lap talking to her and watching his hand brush away the fallen tree leaves and grass clippings on her headstone. Like I've said before, a day doesn't go by that she isn't present in my head and my heart, and now she's felt the touch of my son and I know how truly happy and proud she is.

OK, water works done for now. Chilled out at the folks place and watched some tele with the famdamily, ate some dinner (AWESOME lasagna straight from Costco, the BEST) and waited for my Dad to get home from work. I'd been in town almost 36+ hours at this point and still hadn't seen him. We hung for a little bit, my kid brother and his lady friend arrived and the 3 of us headed out for another night on the Boise Bar wagon. Now, unless you've drank (or drunk, depending on where you were drinking) in Boise, you really won't care about most of the bar names, but if you need a referral of places to visit, I'm your man. We started out at my old hang and met up with some very young old friends that I hadn't seen in almost 13 years, and it was awesome! I love having friends that no matter what happens in life, no matter how much things can change, you always pick up right where you left off, and this was no different. We continued from bar to bar to bar to bar, drink after drink and laugh after laugh and had a killer time. You could say we 'killed it' until long past last call, and although it was sad to have the night come to an end, the lives we've all shared throughout the years will continue to play in the sandbox together, and hopefully without a 13 year pause in between play dates.

The night out turned into morning much earlier than I wanted it to, but a crying toddler in the next room will do that to a guy. I brought Jackson into bed with me and a cup of milk and we snuggled as long as we possibly could. I NEEDED the extra 30 minutes, and from there the party began. 20 family members, a giant cake and some pulled pork and presents rounded out our final day in Boise at the folks place. My mom threw the kid an early birthday party with the whole family and boy did he make out. We actually had to take a second suitcase home with us and still didn't get everything back. He's pretty stoked on all the new toys and I'm stoked on all the new clothes. If he only knew that he's the best dressed kid in his daycare.

We were back at the airport by 6 pm, excited for another easy flight home and get back to the normal day to day, at least I was. I think Jackson had so much fun with his Nana and Papa and cousin Chloe, that he would gladly have stayed another week, as would I if I could be 2 years old again without a care in the world. Since that's not happening in my lifetime, I'm totally down to visit my home away from home a few days a year and reconnect with my old life and introduce it to my new one. Boise will always feel like an old pair of socks, that comfortable cotton that have walked a million miles with me and know me better than that new pair that hold on just a little snug and need time to expand and conform to me. There's nothing wrong with the new pair, as long as they get along with the old ones and someday can be worn as a mismatched pair.

I know I'm now a week behind on this little ditty and I'm gonna try like hell to get caught up. Especially since in the last week there has been so much change and chaos and just pure random awesomeness that I need to write about, or at least what I can write about. I'm all about protecting the innocent

Stay Blessed-

5, er 6 days, a trip and an opportunity part 1

2009-08-25T11:54:00.000-07:00

I know there's a few people out there that have been waiting with baited breath for me to post here over the past few days. In fact, some have ever emailed, sent texts and IM'd me asking "When are you posting!" or something to that effect. Let me start with an apology for being so very far behind here, I had a hell of a weekend starting Thursday evening all the way through to Sunday evening and then Monday was a wash in attempting to even log into this little ditty. So, sorry for that, I didn't realize there were that many loyal followers, as I can see only 9 listed. Really need to work on upping that count...hmmm, marketing strategy and challenge?

So, I started writing this yesterday, Tuesday the 25th, and now that I'm on the train with 30 minutes to spare, I'm actually going to try and finish it. There's just so much to talk about in the last 5 days since my last post that I'm guaranteeing now that there's no way I can come close to covering it all, and as I caveat this reality, I realize I'm wasting time instead of getting into it. Here goes...

Thursday night following another long day of work in the dungeon, Jackson and I got back to the apartment around 6:30. Knowing that we had an early flight out the next morning, our military tactical approach to completing everything that needed to be done prior to leaving, went into effect. We walked in the door, Jackson ran straight to his room for two arms full of trucks and his monkey and came sprinting (litterally) back to the living room while I turned up some water in a pot in the kitchen. He made his way to the couch, arms still full at this point, and began the herculean task of getting up onto it without asking for help. One by one, race car after truck after duck, fell to the floor. With each loss from his arms began another attempt at getting up there. By the third try, yes I sat back and watched his effort, he started tossing each toy individually up onto the couch, making sure they were all retrievable once he finally got settled in. Now completed he turned to me with a huge satisfactory smile and said "Up?" and raised his arms. Looking my right in the eyes, he repeated his request for me to lift him up to the couch and I couldn't help but smile realizing he was tired of the failed attempts and really just wanted to be reunited with his valued toys. He needed my help. I walked over and simply asked, "Are you sure you can't do this one by yourself?" and with a quick tilt of the head as he thought about this question, at least I like to believe that's what he was doing, he turned back to the couch, threw both arms up onto the cushion, and began his assent. One little pull after pull, he decided to use the ottoman with his feet to help him finish the climb. One foot, then the other, pushing with his feet and pulling with his hands, he was finally up on the couch. I swear it was like watching the final 20 feet of a climbers assent at K2, he was pumped and smiling wide, and I cheered his victory like a baseball game. Jackson in his glory suddenly stopped smiling as he looked at the dark screen of the tv, turned his gaze back to me and said "Cars? Cars". Like any great parent (HA) I turned up the TV and pushed play on the DVD player, Pixar's "Cars" may never leave the DVD player again.

So the list continued from there; I got dinner done with relative ease, started the first of three loads of laundry, ran a bath for Jack, teeth brushed, sat on the potty, jammies, changed out laundry for load #2, read a book in a race car bed to my little man, argued about bed time, switched loads again (#3), went back to calm down my over-tired-crying for daddy- upset-now crying for mommy toddler (this went on past 10 pm), gave in to another sippie cup of milk (finally did the trick), folder laundry, packed 1 suitcase and whew...11:00 pm Thursday night and I think I can go to bed now. Bah, did I remember enough sippie cups? Diapers and Wipes for my carry on? Jackson's birth certificate? Movies for the plane ride? In my head the list kept getting longer and I started to kind of freak out a little bit. Remember, I'm not the guy who like to have to plan or get things organized. I'm usually running out the door, with a half packed backpack, just trying to make a flight and replace what I forgot when I get there. Can't do that with an infant, and so my 11:00 pm calm of getting to sleep turned into my head finally hitting the pillow at 12:30 am with an alarm set for 4:30 am and the thinking in my head that I'm probably going to oversleep... so now I can't sleep. I don't know exactly what time I finally fell asleep after worrying about oversleeping but out of the dark of the morning, my alarm hit the first beep and I jumped out of my skin and subsequently my bed, and hit the shower. Out the door by 5:15, we were on schedule and on our way.

The airport is always an interesting experience, it's never easy and it's never without some sort of hurdle to get over. This time was like every other time but actually not as stressful as expected it to be. Off site parking, jump in the shuttle with the stroller, 1 suitcase thingy on wheels, my laptop bag, a talking walking baby and his goldfish crackers. One of the first times I remember him being in a vehicle without a car seat and he was pretty stoked, getting to look out the window at all the lights and seeing airplanes taking off, one after the other. Out of the shuttle, into the stroller and making our way to the elevator. Pretty seamless at this point. Across the sky bridge and into the ticketing terminal, and there it was, the first sign of "oh shit"! The line for Southwest was around the corner from the counter and people were looking like they just might die waiting in this line. Even the people who had already printed boarding passes and just needed to check luggage were doing the "pee pee" dance, afraid to get out of line to use the restroom in fears they may never get through to their flight. Of course, I have my blackbelt in airport planning and we had just under 2 hours to make our flight. When we finally made it to the roped area of the ticket counter, there was a Southwest employee helping people get in the right lane. He took one look at Jackson relaxing and looked at me and said, "Is he a lap dog"? Really, did he just ask if my son was a lap dog? I hesitated for a moment, searching for the patience and the words that weren't going to keep me from making my flight. I looked him straight in the eyes and said calmly but irritated, "Excuse Me"? to which he replied, "is he a lap child"? and it finally hit me, he was asking if Jackson was sitting on my lap or have his own seat on our flight, not that I think it made any difference in what lane we were in to check in, but I realized how uptight I was that morning, not the calm and assertive mode I needed to be in. Near blow up averted, we finally got checked in and headed to the security checkpoint with 45 minutes until our flight was ready to leave. I'll spare you the details on the rest of the airport or flight or arrival at our destination, it was a cakewalk and fairly uninteresting.

By the way, that last paragraph and these subsequent words were written Thursday, yes, it's taking me 3 days to write this week. Not the norm but hell, it's been busy, and there's been so much going on both personally and professionally that staying on top of this piece has fallen down the priority chain.

So Friday in Boise is rad, there's so much to do and yet, it's one of the first times I've visited in a long time where I didn't feel stressed out to get things done. Very small agenda compared to most trips out of town and it all started with a tattoo appointment with my man Sean at Black Cat Tattoo at 4:00 pm. Sean started a piece on me last September, that for almost a year had been nothing more than an outline and shading on my left bicep. That's the problem with having one person you trust to work on you, living 8 hours a way by land or $200+ by air. Interestingly enough, there's no sea travel from Seattle to Boise, guess there's always the rail too though. Anyway, the previously mentioned outline originally took about 3 hours to do and this visit was just slightly short of that. From about 4:15 to just after 7:00 pm, Sean worked his genius as he added color after color to my FooDog, and there were no breaks. The bicep area is a damn fun place to get tattooed, and when I say fun, of course I'm being facetious cause it sucks! I though my legs were bad, but the inside bicep and most of that area are pretty gnarly, especially close to the armpit. When I left, my left arm was bruised in a few places and swollen from the hours of inking. I think I had a 21 inch python for a bicep on the left arm with the full 14 inches on the right... Yeah, it was pretty funny and the color is amazing. 6 days later and it's healing really fast. I think being somewhat tan before being tattooed helps speed up the healing process. I could be wrong and have no scientific evidence that this is the case but it seems to be the story, for me at least.

Got back to my folks house to find my son and mom in a trance while watching "Cars", almost incoherent to my return to the stable. We had a quick chat, I made some phone calls, changed my clothes, and went out the door for a "brief" night out with my brother and some very near and dear friends from back in the day. An early start means an early night, right? Good intentions often lead to the opposite when you hit the first bar at 8:30, and so this story goes. By 9:00 my friend and major league baseball pitcher, Rick, arrived at 'Opa' and I think we were already on our second round between my brother and his lady friend and I. Now Rick is a guy that everyone should have as a friend, he's straight up, like to party and has no problem telling you any story you want to hear, maybe even some you'd rather not hear, but at the end of the night, you're stoked you got to hang out and can't wait to do it again. He's also 6'6" which definitely makes you feel that much shorter when you're standing in at 5'11" on a pilates day. Over the next hour, friend after friend arrived on the patio of Opa and drinks came and came and came. We were all feeling pretty good as we made our way into the downtown Boise nightlife around 11:00 and I'm not entirely sure where we next but there were probably 3 or 4 more bars that we hit up before we heard last call at some place filled with babies. It was one of the first bars in recent memory where I felt old and creepy, being surrounded by kids barely 21 and looking around at guys much older than me, talking up a storm. Did I just mention I actually heard "last call" at this place... damn, there goes my early night and well, the whole idea that I wasn't drinking too much Friday night also went out the window when Rick showed up. Every time I turned around it seemed like he was either asking me what I wanted or was already handing me another giant something or other. I think the entire night cost me like 20 bucks as my over generous friend kept picking up tab after tab, makes me wish I had some Major League money, right? A huge thanks goes to Ricky, we had a killer night, met some cool new friends as we hoped from bar to bar, and we all made it home in one piece. Even Jo, who took a cab instead of letting me get him there. Probably the right call

So, that's all I can muster out right now, tomorrow will have Saturday and Sunday and all the rest, as there is plenty to tell but I know two things at this moment that are leading to this:
1- If it's too long, you'll never read it
2- I'm freaking tired of typing right now and if I start into Saturday, it'll be next week by the time I publish it.
And since this piece probably isn't as funny or witty as I think I normally am, you all might just stop reading it all together anyway, right?

Stay blessed and hydrated-

Dookie

2009-08-20T06:54:00.000-07:00

It's the final day of my short work week and I couldn't be more relieved. The past few weeks have been some of the longest I've had in recent memory, and the hour after hour of non-stop go go go have led me to a point of near burnout. There's nothing intriguing about hitting bottom, it leads only to disinterest and lack of motivation, and in my line of work, both can be career limiting, if not ending. In the age of doing more with less, no one can afford to be part of the lesser. Especially not as a single father with a very important responsibility. I'm always amazed and in awe of those other single parents with multiple children living on much less than my annual salary. God knows, even I struggle with what I take home every two weeks, and to think about doing this single thing with even less money and more mouths and hands to take care of, is beyond my comprehension. My lifestyle would have to change dramatically in that situation, not that it hasn't already with one child. Going out at any time with friends doesn't happen without some major planning. I've always been pretty spontaneous in my event attendance, there was a time in college when I left the shower and getting ready for an 8:00 am class, one of my roommates asked if I wanted to blow off class, drive five hours to Boise to see Rage Against the Machine in an old prison courtyard. As if there was any thought to skipping a Tuesday schedule of classes to go to that show, and likewise, there was no thought to how much money was in my bank account to pay for gas and food, and zero thought to the paper I needed to turn in prior to finals week or the presentation I had that afternoon in one of my labs. I was out the door and hitting the highway 20 minutes later, finding myself back on campus 30 hours later begging teachers to let me turn stuff in late. Of course that was one of the best live shows I've ever seen and the memories still pop out of my mind as vividly as they did as they arrived in my hard drive of a brain that night. Those days stay reserved for college times and some 10+ years later, it's obvious that 20 minutes post shower to highway driving is out of the question. It's more like an hour or two and a few dozen phone calls to make arrangements., it takes serious work making unplanned trips a reality.

Full Green Day catalog on the iPhone this morning, do I need to say anything else about it? If you don't know now, you never will...unless you ask really nice and maybe I can help you out with a copy.

So that's really it this morning, short and sweet and anecdotal almost. I'm impressed with single parents, truly, and not because I want to be impressive and include myself in the category although I guess I am. I don't think they get enough credit for being awesome, for working their asses off to provide every last opportunity to their children and doing what they can to help make this world a better place. Often these parents are so busy trying to hold it all together that this world doesn't see everything they do, or the sacrifices they make for their kids, mainly due to the fact that they become invisible to most of us. I'm saying today to you that qualify, I see you and I applaud you and know what you go through. Maybe not to the extent that some of you deal with, but I get it. You all are rock stars in my book. 3 more hours in the office and we're Boise bound! Details to follow

Stay Blessed-

In Pieces

2009-08-19T07:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I said a lot yesterday in my emotional breakdown and too much pressure welling up inside of me. I had been feeling pretty good up to that point over the past weeks, I guess being human with a heart and feelings, I just couldn't hold it in anymore. Suppose it's a part of me that should be worked out in a therapy session or 5 but ever since my shrink stood me up, I haven't been to counseling and I haven't called to reschedule. Either she didn't think there was enough there to work with continually or she didn't like me enough to continue seeing me. I don't know what the deal is there and I guess at the end of the day, I don't really care. Therapists are like lawyers, they're everywhere, and can be replaced. I'll probably start looking around again next week just so I can work through these feelings and hopefully not hit the implosion point again like yesterday.

There's been some discussion lately of a book deal for me, stemming from this little blog of mine. Aparently, a friend of a friend of a business partner of an aquaintence read some of this, and they like what they read. Kind of cool I guess, an opportunity to see my life unfold in print on a shelf at Barnes and Noble, a chance to share my stories and my insight on parenthood, family and love and loss. I've started working on it, right where everything should naturally start, the middle. I have no clue how to begin the story and where it should end. My life has always been a dialogue of mistakes and choices and stories of fact and fiction, and I've worked dilligently to right the wrongs, make changes that reflect truth instead of a good story, and make myself the best version of me. How much creative liscense should I feel is appropriate? I don't think any but then what if my life isn't interesting enough to get someone to spend twenty bucks to buy a copy? I'm not neccesarily afraid of failing but I'd like a couple shots at just being a writer, no one shot, one kill type situation.

"Minutes to Midnight" on the iPhone this morning. One of my favorite overall albums from Linkin Park, tons of "realness" pouring out of the songs, a genuine heartbreak throughout. One song after another that I connect with, probably the main reason I love this album so much, not to mention that you get Chester singing on almost every song. His side project 'Dead by Sunrise' is sure to be more great vocals from him this October. I'll be in line to pick it up when it hits, you should try it out.

Spent much of last night, following a very long much needed gym session, in multiple text message conversations between about 4 different people. So funny how different conversations start to blend between each other and keeping track of responses between the multiple conversations can get tricky. I will say that I seriously have one of the most killer group of friends, despite the years apart from some of them. One friend I haven't spoken to in over 13 years and you would never know it, we just go on talking like we did many many years ago. Which reminds me, I need to check my AT&T account and see how many text messages I have left on my plan. I'm sure I'm close to running right over the number, and if it keeps up at the pace in which it was last night, I'm gonna need to move to the unlimited text plan. Oh the price we pay to stay connected, it's well worth the money. 2 full days left in the office this week and it's airplane time and tattoo time! Enjoy the Wednesday

Stay blessed-

When...I said "when"

2009-08-18T06:57:00.000-07:00

Day 2 of my short work week starting and I'm uninspired this morning. The only thoughts revolve around getting through the week and making sure I have all of my ducks in a row. Friday will be the first time I've flown on an airplane with Jackson and no mom, and I'm almost terrified about traveling with a near 2 year old by myself. I was thinking about Caesar Millan(the Dog Whisperer in case you don't know) and wondering if he would tell me that children can sense my fear so I need to remain calm and assertive? Think assertive is going to matter to my almost two year old? I'm approaching the travel like a military operation, using distraction tactics seems to be the best approach. I think I'll load the laptop with his three favorite movies, and I'm sure if it gets us there with little disruption I can stomach to watch Finding Nemo, Cars and Madagascar 2 for the thousandth time. My laptop bag will surely be carrying the required necessities; juice box, diapers and wipes, and a handful of cars and trucks. The tricks going to be keeping my precious laptop and subsequent keys free of sticky juicy juice all while maintaining my calm assertiveness. I almost think we should be bringing a film crew with us to document this trip, if not just for posterity, it most certainly will be humorous to someone watching from the outside in.

I'm not used to packing for anyone but myself and there's so many things to remember to grab. One of which is Jackson's birth certificate. I have to be able to prove two things; 1. He's my son and 2. He's under two years of age. Once kids are two, parents are so fortunate that they are given the opportunity to buy them their very own ticket on the plane. When I say opportunity, I'm being fesicious of course.It's one of the reasons we're heading out on an airplane prior to his birthday. As if being a parent wasn't already financially straining at times, the airlines make it even more fun. I didn't know this was a policy until I became a parent, so I'm always surprised when I see a family of four or five heading to a Hawaiian vacation, that's a spendy plane ride.

So I started writing this morning around 7 am and am just now getting back to this post at 4:19 pm. I've had quite the day business wise but my head and my heart have been elsewhere today. Damn, I wish I could shut off this part of me that feels like this, hurt and lonely and without hope for the future I surely expected. Everytime my brain turns around and starts to spend any time remembering and acknowledging reality, my heart skips a few beats and my stomach turns the corner. I hate not knowing everything, everything she's thinking and planning and feeling. As I walked from my office to the train a few minutes ago, I couldn't help but drift back to that place, that moment, when I knew it was over. Honestly, and without shame, the tears started falling from under my black sunglasses and I quickly found my right hand wiping them off my cheek to ensure no one crossing my path witnessed my pain. I don't know how to move on and the single thought of her doing the same kills me. It pulls at everything inside of me and displays an empty cavity where I used to keep her close. I'm scared again, not that I think I've ever moved pass that frightened child screaming in the night for comfort, and no matter how much I do to make her nothing more than a memory, she's woven into the fabric that is who I am. This place is so cold, so void of anything worth pursueing or even worth your time. I've prayed an endless amount of prayers and I've begged for the forgiveness that I feel has been long overdue, to no avail. What does it take? What do I have to do?

I'm sorry for that, really I am, but I've been holding it in for days now, although I didn't realize how bottled up it was until today. Fuck, I might be the weakest man holding onto this heartache like a blanket, but it helps me releive this tension building up inside the body that encapsolates me. Guess the workload helped push it down, further than I knew. Until today, I don't think I've really cried in over 2 weeks. Wait, that's a lie. I cried the other day as I woke Jackson up from a nap and layed in bed with him and a sippie cup of milk. He hugged with the ferocity of a two year old and I kept my eyes on the doorway, expecting her to come in at any moment and capture that hug on film. What felt like hours, only minutes, my gaze stayed on that doorway and the tears started falling as no one came, no one to take that picture, no one to see the sweetness in that hug, no one to share that moment with me. It hurts, it hurts more than any woman has ever hurt me and there's been a few that have. No one made me feel like she did and with that, I'm certain no one ever will. Yeah, I'm down today and wishing there was something I could do to turn it around. I've had enough already...and I can't help myself. My prayer for you, is that you never find yourself in this place, in this torment, in this amount of anguish that I fight. May these words lift you up in knowing that life could always be worse, you could be here, in this place. Guess I'm hitting the gym before I hit something else, as this reckless chaos feels overwhelming. 2 more days until I can escape for a few days, 2 more days until I can hug my mom and know that everything is going to be alright, eventually.

Stay blessed-

Help Somebody if you Can

2009-08-17T06:55:00.000-07:00

I had every intention of writing daily last week, in an attempt to keep the personal side of my life breathing. Unfortunately, the 16 hour work days became a bit too overwhelming and that just didn't happen. It might have been one of the longest weeks I can remember in recent history, for work at least, and today feels like things are getting back to normal. I'm obviously not in the office yet, so who knows what's in store for me once I walk in. The hiccups and systemic issues are all squared away now for the most part. Probably a few little 'nickels' to fix, but nothing major. I started equating each incident down to cost for the benefit of my Vice President last week, he's good at risk analysis when there's cost associated to it. Everything we needed to fix over the last week was a nickel or a dime, compared to some major quarters or half dollars that we could be trying to resolve, which we did have a full blown 2 dollar bill issue on Wednesday. That was cleared up by Friday close of business, so things went well there.

Enough of work though, it seems that's all I've been able to talk about lately and I'm pretty sick of hearing myself talk about it. Too bad I forgot about most of the rest of my life though last week. It had to wait until Friday, where work ended and the kegs of beer mysteriously showed up on the 7th floor deck outside of my office building. Kicked back with a couple 16 oz cold ones and some co-workers before heading off to the east side. Spent the evening with some friends, more imperial pints of Guinness and headed home. Things had gone pretty well up to the point of dropping the boys off at the Lake House. Somewhere along the lake road heading back to I-90, there was a major car accident with multiple cars, an older Audi smashed in on one side and a bunch of kids looking like deer in headlights. Everyone appeared to be ok, and I couldn't help thinking that 10 minutes earlier I had been heading the same direction. Guess I missed being a part of this one by minutes, still couldn't help thinking how different life could become in an instant. I wouldn't say I'm a worrier by nature, at least in the sense of my safety and getting bent out of shape witnessing someone else's misfortune. I did think about it though and how shitty it would be to have been one of those kids freaking out, especially with things being what they are for me right now. Just a couple minutes before coming on to the accident, I learned about a friend dealing with her own consistent car wreck of sorts in her home. Yet another situation I couldn't imagine being a part of and with everything that is in me, I wish there was something I could do to take the wheel and steer her out of that mess. Here's what I do know and I'm very serious when I say this. My friends mean everything to me and there isn't anything I wouldn't do to keep them safe, to help them escape a bad situation, or protect them from the boogie man. If my child ever told me the story like the one I heard Friday night, there's nothing anyone could do to stop me from fixing the situation. I'm sparing any details here for multiple reasons, but mentioning this because it's a serious thing she's dealing with and shouldn't have to. I'm still praying for you...

I never met my grandfather, he died when my mom was 6, but knowing what I know I think he would have agreed with the guys in my headphones this morning. Van Zant on the iPhone, good southern fried rock n roll. Blue collar real lyrics and great story telling. Give it a listen, even if you think it's too country or too whatever. Some great messages in there and one line I love, "Fight your fights, find the grace in all the things that you can't change, and help somebody if you can, and get right with the man". Not a bad lesson today

I have a lot more to talk about but didn't want to stray from the seriousness of the past paragraphs. Do what you can to help someone else today, even if they say they don't need it. Some people carry too much pride to ever ask, even when they know they need to. There's nothing harder, as a friend, to have to sit back and hope nothing bad happens when you know damn well things can only get worse if something doesn't change. I feel like this has been an ongoing struggle in my own life, in a completely different context of course, but a continuing dialogue of needing something different but not knowing how to or what to do. I'm a mess of tangled ribbon in so many colors and the harder I try to unwind, and straighten it all out, the more knots seem to be tied and they're starting to become insurmountable. I'll just keep untieing(sp?) them and continue looking forward for what is certainly going to happen whether I agree or not, my life. One more great line from a Van Zant song, "...and if you wanna hear God laugh, tell him your plans."

Stay blessed-

Kinder Words

2009-08-12T06:56:00.001-07:00

Took a 6 day hiatus from writing here, and it's been an insane 6 days full of 16 hour work days and little sleep with nearly no room for fun or personal time except to sleep. The 8 month old project finally birthed itself to the business on Saturday night, and beginning a day earlier, was my 50+ hours of weekend work. I think it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway just to pat myself on the back, I actually worked more hours than I slept over a three day period. It was worth it though, we launched without any serious impacts and overcame any risks that would have prevented our success. It was a definite weight lifted off my back, now all I breath are sighs of relief as I continue to work sustainment issues and will eventually get to just bask in the successful release of this project.

So enough about work, right? It's weird to me, during these past 6 days, that's really all I've been living in and for. I managed to squeeze a guitar lesson in the evening Saturday night and Friday night, after 5 or 6 pints and a few shots with my old roommate, I ended up buying a street bike. Not just any street bike, a custom built war machine straight out of 'Mad Max and Thunderdome', solid black with drag bars and loud exhaust. It needs some custom love from me and a bike shop here and there to set her up for me, but it's going to be fun stuff. I just hope this August Seattle weather decides to finally realize it's still summer and I really want some dry days for some long rides out on the open rode. I have a few destinations in mind, so the rain needs to stop. Amazing how two weeks ago we were 100+ degree days and now I'm wearing a raincoat to stay dry... quite the change. And with the change, my allergies are coming back too, I'm not stoked. **Note to umbrella users, PAY ATTENTION to those around you when walking the crowded streets of the city. Some of us want to keep our eyes functional**

Also this past weekend, I managed to buy plane tickets to Boise for Jackson and I to go visit a week from this coming Friday. Gonna get this tattoo finished that been outlined and shaded for almost a year now, an unfinished foodog wanting it's color and it's eyes. It'll be good to see my friends and more importantly my family, spend time with my kid brother, hopefully writing some new songs and just having a good time doing what we both love to do, play music, create music, live music. It'll also be great to have Jackson spending some good time with family. Since we live in separate cities, he doesn't know them as well I had hoped he would at this point, so 3 full days with nana, papa and crew should be super rad for him. This will also be the first time I've seen my folks since my transition in this current chapter of my life began. I'm planning on staying as far away from the topic as possible, as I deal with it, it's mine to deal with and like I tell everyone, if you want to know how I'm doing, read this. It keeps me out of having to tell the same story over and over and keep the tears that need to stay back, well, back.

Random mix of artists on the iPhone this morning. Right now there's the Zep and I think I've heard The Cure, stuff off the new Green Day record, Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and some Kamphire Collective. A good mix of old and new(er) music, always forget how long 'Kashmir' is...I also heard a rumor that Kamphire Collective is heading back to the studio to record a new album! Someone confirm this for me please

So, the train is almost to the station in the city, sorry for such a long delay. I leave you today with words from my good friend Dicky Barrett of the MMB, "Kinder words here we could pick, a kind approach might do the trick". That's my mantra this week, pick your words carefully and make friends.

Let's see how that works out now that I can breathe a bit.

Stay Blessed-

One Cold Night

2009-08-06T06:55:00.001-07:00

Dreams are pretty wild, the ones that come into your head at night while you sleep. I don't seem to dream consistently, probably a side effect of sleep deprivation or insomnia, at least I don't think I do. I rarely remember enough to tell anyone about it the next day and when I can remember parts, it just doesn't make sense anyway. Dreams have a way of not making sense most of the time anyway. Now, the times I do dream and I remember them in their entirety, I see things I don't want to see, or don't know how to explain or even more so, want to try and explain. They're never the happy, fluffy, bright pastel colored dreams we see in movies or read about in childrens books. Mine are vivid from another angle, magnifying the reality of my own vision; conversations with people, symbolism through events, and from time to time, scary. Scary not in the sense of monsters and death, but scary in the sense that there's some difficult conversations taking place and foresight, that more often than not, happens in the non-dreaming world. It's amazing to me, that in all of the details I remember, in all of the "reality" that played a part of my dream last night, I can't even begin to explain in words what it all was about, except to say that dead people long past, can't still be having conversations and providing direction to those of us still living in this world. Can they? I lost 2 teeth in the dream, for no reason, they just fell out.

I woke up about 3:00 am and haven't been to sleep since. I tried for a time to rest again this morning, but my mind has been flying like a jet plane and right now as I write this, it's still spinning out of control, thinking and processing and wondering over all of the things that hit me in my sleep last night. I'm still very connected spiritually with 2 major people who I've lost from this world, where a day doesn't go by without them in my head and heart. I often ask them questions that I know won't be answered, but trying to imagine how they would have answered is helpful, and comforting. One of them appeared in my dream last night, literally sitting in the chair next to my bed. And with my own eyes, I would have sworn I was awake, as that voice coming from that body was the same one that I spent countless nights years past talking about life and family and everything under the sun. It was the same voice that asked me to look out for his little girl and the same one we mourned 4 and half years earlier. It felt so real and since my delusions are only occasional, I know it wasn't. No matter how much I wish it had been. The words were clear and concise, as if he'd never left and as if we'd never missed a beat. We made some promises to one another, I did some yelling and pleading and then he was gone. I jumped out of my skin, sweating and crying in the cold air of the night. I just sat there, with my knees to my chest, and started praying. I haven't slept since

I just saw a homeless man, on one side of Alaskan Way, pulling a shopping cart behind him, with his entire world stacked above his head covered in a blue tarp on that cart. The other side of the road, was a runner pushing her entire world in a two seat jogging stroller, quite a contrast of roads to take in life.

My god daughter and her mom are moving to Korea in a few days, I can't say I'm excited for them. I'm actually extremely disappointed that we've allowed some time to pass without speaking, without exchanging text messages or even sharing pictures. She's almost 5 now, and looks just like her daddy, and I'm told makes comments and facial expressions just like he did. Someday, I'll get to tell her about her daddy and the stories about he and I and the things we did. The nights we sat in the dark playing video games to the early morning hours, the road trips where we stopped in some little hick town in the middle of the night and got looks like we were about to run out of town. I get to tell her about the man she never knew and somehow find a way to tell her why he's not here anymore. I've been dreading this for a very long time, over 4 years now, and I'm sure, hopefully, I have another 12 years to find the right way to tell this little girl about the man she barely knew and the dark places he never let us know he knew. I don't know if he's haunting me or helping me, sometimes it feels like both. A day doesn't go by that I don't miss him, and not one single day goes by that I'm not angry and hurt by him. To be honest, I'm fucking pissed and that's something that no amount of therapy has been able to pull me back from. It's the letting go that I do realize needs to happen, it's the forgiveness that I still need to find, and I just can't do it. He was my best friend, my brother, my partner in crime, and after last night, I was reminded how much he still is.

Safe travels to my little roo and her mommy, I love you guys...

Stay blessed-

Meet Virginia

2009-08-04T06:55:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning train ride, it's another day. The clouds are rolling in, reminds me of LA in the early summer hours, before the sun comes out to burn off the haze. Our weather has been consistent for once, unlike my moods and emotions. They've been all over the board and it's getting harder everyday to keep in touch with what I am and who I've been and where I'm heading. You can work your ass off day in and day out, try to keep that smile and stay true to what's happening on the inside. I can't live in a lie, and this pretending to be awesome has been taking it's toll on me. That's not to say that I don't have some awesome moments or even days, or that I am not awesome, I know this people. Sunday was an awesome day, residing in a spot that is always comfortable and happy for me, on the water, in a boat with great friends. Not sure why I never pursued sailing or a life out on the open sea. I've often discussed moving away from the states and heading somewhere in Central or South America to just live a simple life in the sun and sand. Costa Rica was one of the first places I ever spent time out of the country where I actually felt like I could be happy there, without the hustle and bustle of shopping and nice cars and luxuries of the home and convenience of fast food. I was sadly disappointed when we pulled into Tamarindo and saw a Pizza Hut and Burger King. Those were two of the last places I ever needed to see in such a beautiful tropic locale. However, there's nothing quite as peaceful as walking out of your cabana with a backpack, bottle of water and a dirt road to the middle of a forest in search of monkeys chillin up in the tree's living their lives. That dirt road was one of the most comfortable walks into nowhere that I've ever experienced, even as the bugs became thicker as the evening air started to cool down, I couldn't have worried about anything at that time in my life. Things were simpler then and I could stomach some of that simplicity right now.

I put Trains self-titled album on the iPhone this morning, it had been a while since I've listened to Pat Monahan and the boys. This is to me, their best work, real music for real people, real stories and real emotions regarding life and love and the insatiable need to just be ok. "I Am" is the track that always comes into my head when the music isn't playing in my ears, it asks the questions that often hit me in the middle of the night when the tears have left my eyes and all that's left is me, in the dark, wondering how I am going to make it to morning. If you're not familiar, please go pick up this album, you will find a way to thank me later.

Let's see, this is the last week before my now 8 month project deploys. There's a lot of last minute things to tie up and some really early hours this weekend to finalize the rollout, and in some ways, as stoked as I will be to finally get this thing out the door, I'm also going to be a little let down that I finally have to give it to the masses to use. It's been my business baby for awhile now, and the fruits of my labor will get to be seen finally, but then it's on to something else, something new and uncomfortable. Something needing my immediate attention, needing me to understand the intricacies and discover what it's made of and then mold it into my requirements. I guess the discovery piece is where we'll become close and gain some understanding of each other and what we can do for one another. A honeymoon stage so to speak, and it's a lot of work to get comfy, a lot of energy to put out. I wish it was something I was already intimately familiar with, like an old lost friend, we already know everything about her. Wonder if I can get that into the RFP process this time around, although something new and undiscovered, unproven is a much more interesting challenge and the fun is always in the hunt. Let's all just hope that the exploration reaps the benefits that a proven application yields. I'm naming the next one "Virginia", she sounds like a cool chick...

"I Am"- Train

I never been on a railroad, as many times as they pass me by
I never crashed in the desert or seen a rodeo
I don't know much about the world wars or Vietnam
I've yet to read about Uncle Tom
Never climbed a real rock or seen Colorado

Am I the son I think I am
Am I the friend I think I am
Am I the man I think I wanna be - hey

I never had a day where money didn't get in my way
I never listened to much Elvis
I can't remember a warm December

Am I the son I think I am
Am I the friend I think I am
Am I the man I think I wanna be

I'm here for my sanity sanity
I am here for you
I'm here for your fantasy sanity, I am here
I am

Am I the son I think I am
Am I the father that I think I am
Am I the man I think I wanna be

I'm here for my sanity sanity I am here for you
Whether or not I'm walkin in
Or whether or not I'm walkin out
I'm always here for you

And I'm here for my sanity sanity
I am here for you
I'm here for my fantasy sanity, I am here
I am

Stay blessed-

Details in the Fabric

2009-08-03T06:54:00.001-07:00

Well it was bound to happen, inevitable really. One can only go so long before the situation comes, and when it does and you find yourself unprepared to handle it, panic can set in. In my case, I'm really surprised it took as long as it did. So I did what anyone else would do, I headed to the drug store, for a plunger. Yeah, 7 weeks of apartment living, being well balanced and regular and Saturday morning I managed to back up the toilet in my master bathroom. I hadn't purchased a plunger, hadn't had a need to own one since I moved and it's not one of the things you normally have on the list of things to replace when you move and leave a world of stuff behind. I can only imagine what goes through the mind of the check stand guy when someone comes through their line with a bunch of groceries and a plunger. Hopefully, if they don't have one already, it's a reminder to head down the cleaning aisle and pick up a $3.97 plunger before they find a reason to need one. Way less stress knowing it's there if you should need it.

That minor crisis averted, Jackson and I spent a good two hours of a Saturday at the dog park with Bean and Guinness, who loved running and playing with a less than normally busy pack of dogs. Normally the dog park we frequent in Fort Steilacom is much busier on a summer Saturday but this being Seafair weekend in Seattle and the weather having been exceeding the 100 degree mark, there were much fewer dogs and people. Jackson seemed to enjoy himself, chasing Bean around through the high brush and hiding behind trees only to pop his head out to say "I see you" in a sound that has been developing into his own voice. What a trip it is to have my son turning from an infant that needs 100% of my protection and direction into a real life human toddler that forms his own opinions, makes choices and tells me what the deal is. Of course, we don't always agree on what the deal really is, but it's interesting having small world conversations with such a young mind that is constantly taking in data, processing it and building it into the framework of what I pray will be a fruitful life of joy and compassion and never know the pain of what I've been through or repeat the same mistakes I've made. Some of them are far too costly to the soul to have to imagine he may deal with at some point. I know my parents would have done anything to prevent the pains I've felt in my lifetime, and I know instinctively that I would do the same for him. That's just parenthood, even though I know deep down there's nothing mine could have done to avert my own pains and there's nothing I will be able to do to prevent some of his. That part is just life as a human being. Sometimes I forget that, as I look for the off switch on my head and heart in situations where I know it's just going to be trouble at the end of the day, and it's probably going to hurt. That's just another part of life, making choices that seem logical and seem like they're pretty cut and dry, but the flip side of it all could cost you more than if you took a different originating path. The first always seems like it outweighs the counter, and sometimes it does. Other times, you end up paying for them three times over. I've never been afraid of the pain or fearful of how much something might hurt, you know eventually it's going to, in one way or another. Learning to lessen the pain by preparing and being proactive to prevent it is the goal. Too bad I haven't been more successful at that lesson, although it has helped shape me into the man I am today. Not sure if that's all the awesome, but I'm still learning through making mistakes and having toilets attempt to overflow. I've just gotten lucky and kept my feet out of the overflowing shit, figuratively speaking of course.

Listened to the latest Jason Mraz album front to back this morning on the train ride and subsequent walk through the city. There's a few hidden gems in it, some witty language and some very poignant thoughts. Can't say that I'll continue to listen to most of it though, I'm not a fan of it in it's entirety, but like I said, there's a few pieces of good stuff. "Details in the Fabric" is probably my favorite track at the moment, anything with James Morrison harmonies are worth hearing and soaking up.

Went out for Seafair Sunday, the biggest party on water every year on Lake Washington. No idea how many boats actually made it out this year, seemed a little more mellow than past years that I've been out, but it didn't slow down our party. We had three boats in total, maxed out on people per boat and had a pretty damn good time. My sunburn today says I wasn't as diligent as I thought I was being with applying the sunscreen. I blame that on the squirt gun full of watermelon vodka, multiple bottles of yummy other stuff (not really sure what it was other than red hot alcohol) and 2 kegs of adult liquid something that kept getting poured into my big red cup and emptied into my mouth. Coupled with that, jumping and diving into the lake every 10 or 15 minutes on top of water balloons flying and super soakers raining down, I can't imagine why the sun screen didn't do it's job... oh well, I'll live. It was a good time for sure, old friends and new ones, lots of sing along's and a lot more drinking and subsequent thinking.

**Question of the day... What is the appropriate number of escalator steps to be behind the person in front of you? I think it's 2 but the person behind me this morning sure didn't**

This morning is off to a hurried pace so I'm wrapping this up a little prematurely, I'm sure I'll have to expand on later today or even tomorrow. Lots and lots of interesting things going on right now...

Stay blessed-

Dismantled and Disarmed

2009-07-31T08:18:00.000-07:00

I am an asshole, a miserable one at that. This is something I definitely know about myself, even when I try my best not to be. It's something that just comes out when I've got my back against a wall or feel like I'm on the defensive. Maybe that just means I'm a defensive asshole, I don't know. What I do know is that in my irrational defensiveness, I get angry and I get spiteful and all of the traits that make me the "Hulk" of assholeness, red instead of the traditional green. I don't like it, that part of me. In fact, it is something I despise and have desperately worked so diligently to let go of. As an adult, you'd think I'd have this figured out, apparently I still have some growing up to do. Damn the little things that set me off and send me into a whirl wind of sleepless nights, debilitating emotions and endless recounting of days long past and loss. I try, oh my God do I try, to just move forward. With each new day comes another piece of me being dismantled and as much as I shouldn't continue to let it impact me physically or emotionally, it does. So I write it out, screaming through my fingers on this keyboard, to only say what is killing me inside so that I can move on with my breathing and my thinking and my life. I don't write this here because I need anyone to give a shit, I don't write this here because I need your sympathy. I write this here to help me get through yet another day in this self-made hell I dwell in, until the time I figure out how to live a life more meaningful. And even then, if that happens, I'll still write here, hopefully with less angst than I write today. Yes, I am angry. Yes, I am disappointed. Angry at myself and disappointed with my reactions and my inability to be an adult at times. I am human, one with real life emotion and a heart on his sleeve and I don't always make the best choices in words or reactions and I share it with the world because the walls don't listen or respond and I feel like I'm a million miles away from those people who I can confide in. That, and my therapist stood me up Monday, so I've had some built up shit going on. Yeah, I'm a certified asshole today, but I'm working on it.

"I haven't felt the way, I feel today, in so long it's hard for me to specify."

Ok, now that I'm done with that it's time to get to getting. My apologies if this has caught you off guard or hurt you in any way. Remember that I'm doing this thing for me, to get me through, and if my words help someone else cope or at least help someone identify that they aren't the only one going through this, than cool. If there's something you want to say, please, say it. There's no point in holding your breath or even holding back. I wish I had some funny anecdotal story to all of this today, believe it or not, I don't. I'm sure I'll swing this heartache the other way by the morning when my son makes his way back to my arms and then Sunday when I spend 12+ hours out on the boat acting like a 20 year old, assuming my real age doesn't kick in and I decide not to head out. It could happen, but it depends on what else comes around, and that is something I look forward to hearing all about.

Stay blessed-

I need a spoon

2009-07-29T06:56:00.000-07:00

Day 3 of this current Seattle heatwave. I'm not real into complaining about things like this but I've gotten about 6 hours of sleep in the last 2 days and it's making me more than cranky. Today is the first day that I'm wearing non business casual clothes to work, dawning a t-shirt, shorts and flip flops. It felt a little weird leaving my place this morning wearing this, but that's the joy of working for a small Seattle company that prides itself on "respect of individuals and individuality", and no dress code. Of course, it's always been this way, but as a manager, I've always felt it was more appropriate to be above the fray. Not today

Forecast showing 101 for my neck of the woods today so tonight should be as pleasant as last night. With both dogs and Jackson, the four of us ventured out of the humidity and into another sweat box last night following some good fun at the Little Gym. Jackson and I were pretty tired but the heat made sleep uncomfortable and from about 8:45 to midnight, Jackson had a few intervals of crying, mostly for mommy. I think he sees her as the ultimate comfort, being able to make anything feel better. He's probably right in that thought process. I do my best to help him get situated; sing some songs, get him something to drink, read a book and tuck him in (when's it's not scorching in the apartment). Mom's are just somehow better at telling kids "everything is gonna be alright", and they believe them. I'm working on developing that, for his sake and for my sanity. It's rough when you just need them to go to sleep and you know that they'd be happier if they could just sleep. Especially when that's about all you can think about, I know that's what was running through my mind last night. His room was much cooler than the rest of the place and I narrowly choose to sleep in my own room as he held onto my hand for that mommy comfort. I replaced my hand eventually with a monkey, that he hugged harder than I've ever seen him hug anything. Pretty powerful visual that I know I can't do justice with in these words.

5:15 came earlier than I wanted, both dogs sprawled out next to me sleeping soundly as I exited the bed and hit the shower. I swear the water couldn't have been cold enough, still 80-something in my bedroom as I made my way to the bathroom. I'm thankful for A/C in my truck and on this train as I write this. My toes are actually a little chilly with these flip flops, which will change in a few minutes as I enter the streets of Seattle and make my way into the office.

Started watching "The Watchmen" yesterday on the iPhone, and I have to say, I'm not as disappointed as I originally thought I'd be. The story is a little hard to follow but I think they've done a good job, both with story line and cinematography. Check it out if you haven't seen it yet but make sure you're settled in and paying attention, there's lots of back and forth in the time line.

Should be a quick day in the office, hopefully, although I think I may have just jinxed myself in saying that. Looking forward to hitting the pool up with the other legion of residents that will surely be on the same wavelength tonight. At least there's one way to cool down, right? Will probably need to hit the grocery store too for some popsicles and other cool treats, anything to stay cool. Hopefully this is the last sticky night for awhile, I need sleep, a spoon and some comfort to get through this.

Led Zeppelin on the head phones as I wrap this up this morning, not a horrible way to start the work day.

Stay blessed, and cool-

It only gets hotter...

2009-07-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Not entirely sure where to start this morning, except to say that life in Washington summers with no air conditioning sucks. The high at my apartment yesterday topped out near 92 and humid. There was nearly no reason to shower other than to prevent being the stinky guy in public. Friday wasn't nearly as hot and Saturday was closer at 88 but it still wasn't as nasty as Sunday. And although I grew up in 100+ Idaho Summer days, there wasn't the humidity and everyone had A/C. Not so much the case here, as there are only 10-15 days a year in a "hot" summer that you'd even use it. Yesterday, and the rest of this week from what the forecast looks like, are those days. That means lots of time in the water, which isn't a bad thing, except for the first sunburn of the year setting in last night after spending much of the day drinking beer at my old house on Lake Sammamish with Jake and company.

Oh that house and the stories it could tell. I lived in that house for about three and a half years, when the only thing any of us cared about was getting up to wakeboard, using the lake as our shower, heading to work and returning home to do it all over again. Little did we care that we lived in the 5th shittiest house on the lake or that all of our neighbors were CEO's or former CEO's and executives trying to settle in to some peace and quiet. We were some kind of motley crew that most grew to love, others did what they could to get us evicted. 7 years later, "we" still have that house, Jake being the only original roommate still living there, although as I hit up the kitchen to grub last nights steak, I noticed many of my old dishes, coffee cups and other odds and ends still performing valiantly there, all these years later. There is a piece of me that misses parts of that lifestyle, but I could never go back to being that easy going, laid back bachelor, living in what is now probably the shittiest house on Lake Sammamish since all of the others have been torn down for million dollar homes. I'll hang out there though, as much as I possibly can while I still can, I love it there.

Driving back to the dirrty south last night with Social Distortion blasting anthem after punk rock anthem from the stereo, I was on auto pilot, excited to tell the days stories and laugh about the days of old. I almost got into the driveway when it hit me that I had taken a wrong turn, I went home. I sat in my truck for a few minutes, around the corner from my home trying to figure out what I had just done without even really thinking about where I was going. I guess I wasn't thinking, just doing what I've always done and my trusty F150 was leading the way. Deep breath, truck in gear, I followed the circle around the neighborhood and headed to my apartment where I had left all the windows open and arived to what still felt like a sauna. Needless to say, this brain was fired up and working overtime to prevent me from sleeping, coupled with the insulation in the walls holding onto every last degree of the days heat to keep me super warm, it was a late night.

**Update**Just found out my little man just had his first successful potty on the potty! Yes, I'm a proud papa, and it may sound a little weird, but I wish I had been there for it. I actually had that proud tearful moment sitting here, hearing about it, but quickly realized that the short tear was more about not being present for this success. I really don't think I can handle missing any more of his firsts so I need to game plan his firsts to only occur while we're together, he and I. I joke of course, and am very happy his mommy got to be there for this and enjoy that success, just figured I'd be a part of those times too. Yeah, it sucks to miss anything with them and it is bittersweet.

Forecast is showing 98 in Seattle today which means it'll be even warmer in the south end when I get off work. Good thing for a playlist consisting of Social D, Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphy's, The Transplants and the Violent Femmes, probably help me keep a heavy pace across the city this afternoon. You can never go wrong with punk music.

Busy week ahead, both personally and professionally, and although there's room for some fun, I'm not sure entirely how I feel about the current state of my un-union and trying to work through it. Tomorrow night, I'll have both dogs and Jackson, and a calendar full of little things. That all used to seem so easy and I'm trying to look at it from that angle, but no matter how I try to spin it for myself, it scares me. It just feels overwhelming and it shouldn't, I know it shouldn't. So why does it? Tasks and responsibilities I accepted and accomplished a thousand times before now seem like they need more effort, more energy, just more. I'll get over it of course, but the underlying symptoms tell me that I never really did any of it alone. There was always someone else getting me through it, another set of hands to back me up and I think that's the difference today, I have only these two hands. And with my own two hands, I have to do some heavy lifting and continue doing what I do. It's just not feeling any easier as I do this, but I'm told (and have said previously) it will. It has to, I have faith that it will.

Planning a few trips in August, Boise and LA on the radar. Not sure what order they are happening yet, but can say that one trip will be as dad and one will be as the inner-fifteen year old on holiday. I'm sure those of you that know the deal will figure out which version is going where!

Stay blessed-

Keep rockin the 808

2009-07-24T06:55:00.000-07:00

6 weeks, it's been 6 weeks since I signed a lease on this other place to dwell. 6 weeks ago I signed away the life I had, for another. Maybe that's a dramatic viewpoint, but there's only 2 ways to look at it. On one hand, I left a difficult situation that had very little, if anything, left to work with, much to my dismay. That in and of itself, is a bitter pill I'm still trying to swallow. Acceptance is something I've always had a hard time with, specifically when it's about something I've failed at no matter what lengths I went to make every day better than the one before. It's humbling and it's a process of grieving and learning how to stand alone, again. On the other hand, it's an opportunity. An opportunity to see what else is, who else, is out there that may be better than the one before or the one before that, or the one before that. I feel calous as I write this, as if every relationship I've spent a significant amount of time, heart and energy in was a "thing". None of them were "things" or just phases in my life. I loved, I lived, and I felt pain and grief. There are degrees to those emotions and actions, and as I've grown personally and emotionally, the seperation of degrees in which I dwelt are significant.

In all sincerity I can say that nothing has ever hurt like this does, but I've also never dealt with the aftermath as well as I have this time. Part of that may be due to having the best part of my life still to come because of her, in my son. Maybe it's a sign that I really did know that we needed to be at this juncture in life, seperate. That's more than hard to look into for me, because I have never loved anyone like I loved her, and at the end of the day, it didn't make it any better. It scares me that I may never allow myself to have those intense emotions with anyone else, which in essence, really means that someone else in that role in my life should actually be receiving even more than anyone previous, right? It's going to take someone so amazing to pull that out of me, and will I ever deserve someone like that? I'm not trying to have a pitty party this morning, just speaking frankly, and I don't need to hear answers on that question. Just thinking out loud for the sake of thinking.

"808's and Heartbreak" on the iPhone this morning...interesting idea

I'm not having a rough morning, I'm not sad or screaming, I'm kind of numb today. I'm hurting inside for a lot of friends going through some really tough times, some that may even eclipse my own loss, and I'm thinking about you today. I know there are those of you feeling alone and lost and hurting like you've never hurt before, afraid it will never go away. Take peace in knowing it will get better and you are never alone. There are people who spend time thinking about you, praying for you, answering your calls in the middle of the night to sing you lullabye's and walk you home safe in the dark. If this is you, reading this now, you know I love you and regardless of what is happening in my heart, I'm still there for you, anytime, anyplace.

I'll probably have some more to say about all this later...feels like a multi-post kind of day

Stay blessed-

Wholeness is brokenness, owned

2009-07-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

Short and sweet today, as it's been a long week already, this being Thursday, and tomorrow setting up the weekend. It's been quite an eventful week, as work has been at the forefront of my output, making each evening seem longer and longer and with less and less excitement or thought. Last night, for instance, I fell asleep on the couch about 8:30, waking up at 10:23 and wondering what the hell had happened to me. I flipped through the DVR and checked my laptop to see if my current update to SP2 was completed. Bean looked up at me from her bed next to the couch with a look that said "don't even think I'm getting up from this spot". As a side note, I love thinking that she actually could say something and I know she'd be as snarky and irritated as I am at times. Nothing on the DVR that had me intrigued enough to stay up, SP2 was done installing and I could barely keep my eyes open. So, in a dazed and confused stumble, I picked up the too comfortable chihuahua, turned off the TV, closed the laptop and hit the switch on the lights and headed to bed. Took me a few minutes to return to slumber, at least it felt like it did, and about 10:50 the crying in the next room jumped me out of my skin, sending Bean for a blanket ride. Jackson somehow posted himself up between the wall and his bed and wasn't awake enough to get out, exerting just enough energy to cry loud enough for me to save him from an uncomfortable spot. I scooped him up pretty quick and helped his head find the pillow. Back to crazy binky suction action, sound asleep, I wanted to just crawl into that little race car bed and sleep like a baby. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, wishing I could sleep like that and if I cried, someone would come scoop me up and put me back to comfortable slumber. I headed back to my nice warm bed where Bean had taken up the warm spot and slept through until the 5:15 alarm bell. Guess I really needed that sleep, I feel a million times better today. Hope this isn't a sign of age, needing more sleep. I love staying up late and being a kid. I also hope that never changes, enjoying what life is and being able to be silly and dreaming and maintaining hope.

My weekly sermon on the iPhone as I walked through the city streets to the train today. It was a good one, and one in which this post is titled after. "...wholeness is brokenness, owned, therefore new life...". I've said many times that I want to feel whole, feel comfortable and enjoy life. It seems like at times how broken I've been, I can never put it all back together, but hearing that phrase tells me that if what it is I want in this life, I have to. A new life, a new wholeness, owning the pieces that are broken and making them fit again. It's hard, right now, to think that's possible, but if witnessing my sons tears and screams in the middle of the night subsiding with a scoop and a pillow, I suppose anything is possible.

Keep loving one another.

Stay blessed-

Speak Up now or forever hold your peace

2009-07-20T08:41:00.000-07:00

The fog hasn't quite lifted from my body yet this morning, as we approach the afternoon. The weekend was a tangled mess of fun and debauchery, chaos and beauty, laughter and tears, drinking and smoking, and family. I probably participated in all of the previous verbs, I say probably due to the multiple empty bottles of Hendrick's, Jameson, and Grey Goose I stumbled over 2 mornings in a row. As promised, I did not abuse any alcohol put before me, it was all treated to a nice and easy ride starting at the lips and making its way through the inner workings of my liver, stomach and eventually, the bottom of a urinal. There were no reverse routes made by said alcohol through the weekend, amazingly enough! But enough of my consumption, I'm sure my mother is going to love reading this, but she'll be happy to know that a great time was had by everyone.

Friday afternoon I headed out to on the road for what should have been about a two hour drive to the middle of no where, at the base of Mt St Helen's. Forty five minutes into my drive, I was 13.8 miles from home. I don't know why there is always so much traffic near Ft. Lewis military base. I'm told it's not always like that, I guess I'm just lucky enough to consistently hit it when heading south. During my sit through bumper to bumper military traffic, I took a few minutes to run through what I had packed for the weekend. Next to me in my truck was everything one could possibly need on a short road trip; laptop, iPhone, directions, 2 cans of Carb Free Rockstar, and a powerbar, a super hot 16 oz Quad Skinny Mocha in the cup holder to boot. A/C blasting away as the outside temp approached 90, phone in hand trading text messages with friends, anything to pass the time of traffic. I shifted attention from the front seat to the extra cab of my truck and ran the mental inventory of what I had actually packed up. Suit, dress shoes, dress shirts, bathroom bag, sleeping bag, shorts, t-shirts, flip flops...and then it hit me. The 2 dress shirts I grabbed were both black, perfect for an outdoor wedding in the blazing sun, and the most important part of packing for a weekend of fun, I forgot underwear. How do you forget to pack drawls? Sorry mom, I know better, but the good news is, I immediately formed a contingency plan. My mom is quite the shopper, which kind of turned me into one as well. The minute I realized I had no drawls other than the ones I'd been sitting in for a full day of work and now resting my arse in traffic, and was in need of a suitable dress shirt for a wedding, I immediately remembered the factory outlet mall about 30 miles ahead in Chehalis. A quick run through a couple stores with no luck landed me walking into Ralph Lauren. Yes, I went in and actually bought a shirt. Not only did I buy a shirt, the lady steamed it for me, put it in a garment bag and left it on the nice wooden hanger. Talk about service, well worth the 20 bucks I paid for an 80 dollar shirt, right? Next was a run into the Hanes store for a four pack of boxer briefs and I was back on the road. 18 min total shopping stop (would have been under 10 if the steamer had already been hot), something I learned from my dad about shopping, Get in, get out. I5 southbound, still an hour to go.

I rolled into the marrying spot about 9 o'clock and was greeted with beer and friends, in no particular order. The place was pretty cool, even in the middle of no where. Andersen Lodge is a Swedish replica of what I presume is the Andersen's place in, well, Sweden. Huge log cabin type place with multiple patio's, eating areas inside and out, a tennis court, volleyball court, and a fire pit with a stage built out like an amphitheater. All of this under the shadow of Mt St Helen's, sounds sweet yeah? It really was a fun place to have our group of friends. Over the next few hours, car after car full of the crew arrived. With every car load, was another hug, another laugh, and hell, another fresh beer. I don't quite remember when the bright idea to start in on liquor occurred, but by 3:30 am, my bottle of Hendricks Gin was empty and I was the only one drinking it.

Saturday morning started late opposed to my normal weekend wake hour, 9:00 am. I remember rolling over to check the clock on my phone and expected to see 5 or 6 am, so seeing 9 was a welcome surprise. Rolled out of bed and hit about 6 straight cups of Folgers out of last nights rocks glass, felt like college all over again, but in a good way. Much to my delight (yeah, I said it 'DELIGHT'), little by little, my crew of hardcore party people were all coming out of the same slumber ready to start all over again. There was talk of a liquor store run, but no one really felt up to the hour plus round trip, and of course, it's not like any of us came unprepared, we're all professionals here. By 11 we were all jumping into various cars; backpacks and coolers full of adult beverages, and heading to the lake. I have no idea what the name of this lake is, but can tell you that a state run park where alcohol is prohibited, is going to need more than an 80 year old in a golf cart to catch us being sneaky, like I said, we're pro's at this! We all hung out at the beach for a few hours, roasting in the sun, jumping in the arctic temperature water, pounding beers and pounding fists, laughing like kids. Something about being out of town together, with little responsibility directly in front of us, that takes me back to when I started this lifelong friendship with these folks. 15 years later, give or take, we're still as much fun as ever, despite the changes in many of our lives.

By 1:30, it was time for a nap. While I'm not sure I ever really feel asleep (Graham would dispute that I hadn't slept, apparently he was going to recreate the 'Cheesy Poof's Incident'), I did finally get out of my bed around 3:00. The wedding was starting at 4:00. A quick run down to the shower room in a towel and my bathroom bag through the Swedish lodge and into the smallest shower ever, complete with the coldest water that has ever been blasted across my body. Was worried someone might lose an eye at any moment if a nipple shot off, i kept my head down. Got the clothes together and knew better than to get dressed right away since the 90 degree air temp meant that inside the lodge it had to be another 10 degrees warmer, no sense in putting on pants. Plus, walking around in a towel and a tank top helped keep the college theme present (tried to influence a Toga theme for the ceremony but got overruled). By 3:55 I was dressed, wool sport coat and all, feeling good, ready to watch some great people get married.

Ceremony was short and sweet, Brooke looked amazing and Brent didn't let the nerves get the best of him. Our friend Jessica officiated over the nuptials, and I think she was more nervous than anyone. "I Do's" over, it's time to party.

Of course there was apps and dinner and drinking, great toasts and good tears. It was a really fun wedding. The rest of the night was as crazy as the previous, maybe more so. I'll spare the details here as I really am trying to maintain this stellar innocent reputation I know I'm regarded for. I don't know everything that happened, but I did hear about a broken arm bathroom incident, an axe landed in the bonfire, and well, it was 4 am before I finally crawled into my bed.

I'm happy this weekend was as awesome as it was, I needed that. I really needed that, it's been a long time since I've let it all out, and I almost forgot about that part of me. I don't know how many times I had someone tell me they missed me or was so happy to have me there. That meant a lot and means more than I can spell out in words. I think Bethany got to witness that first site Friday night as we talked and of course one of us had to get all emotional. She helped wipe my tears so no one needed to see me looking like a baby, she's seriously one of the coolest women in the world and I am lucky to have her as such an amazing friend. I had a couple more conversations that went like that, even with my boys, who still hug it out right after someone gets choked, it's how it goes. I'm proud to have the people in my life, that mean so much to me, and value our friendship beyond what most people will ever know. I'm lucky, lucky as hell to have the type of support and love that these guys put out.

So, here's to you! May God bless us all with many more years to come where we can drink and dance like we're 20, and still show up to work on Monday. love you guys

Stay Blessed-

Enough for now

2009-07-17T09:51:00.000-07:00

Today started like every day, hitting snooze on the alarm 2 or 3 times, dog getting sick of me jumping out and crawling back in. She's funny, all sprawled out under the comforter huffing and snorting as I re enter my nice warm spot she tried to take up occupancy in as I made the alarm clock dive to postpone the inevitable. I keep wondering if I'll ever grow up to be the person who is stoked for the morning and hit's the ground chipper. But who am I kidding, why would anyone in their right mind be stoked that the morning is here, except to thank God for yet another day of living. I can dig that part, I am thankful 99.99% of the time for another day of this life.

Mentally preparing for another unification this year, my great friends are tying the knot near Mt St Helen's Saturday and it's about a 2 hour journey from my current residence in B-E-A-utiful Fife. I'm looking forward to the solo journey down there, giving my head some time to think (as if I needed anymore time) and jam out to whatever comes across the stereo. These are trips where having satellite radio makes all the difference in the world. 100's of channels at your fingertips with enough music to quench even a seasoned pallet of impeccable musical taste. I didn't pack last night, so of course there's that to do, as well as taking the Bean to the house and emptying the garbage before leaving for 3 days... last nights meat packing might not be smelling too hot after a weekend in what effectively will be a sauna once I close all the windows up. That thought in and of itself is making my stomach turn a little bit. There goes being hungry for lunch!

So yeah, I still have a few things to knock out before hitting the road, but I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with my family away from family. And since I have no where to drive home after, or any other responsibilities that require my sobriety tonight or the next, it's party Ryan time! Good sense and appropriateness be damned. That hasn't happened in a very long time and although I'm not a proponent of abusing alcohol, I promised I won't spill any...it'll all eventually be processed through my needy liver.

Stay blessed and enjoy your weekend, you know I will!

A view from the sidelines

2009-07-16T07:18:00.000-07:00

So yesterday was a tough day, I can admit that. I have some good ones and some really bad ones. The balance between the two is fairly equal, although it seems like I have more good days than bad, but like all things, the bad ones are always more apparent and much easier to remember and write about. Yesterday I spent some time looking at what the triggers are, and for the life of me, I can't identify them, and you can be guaranteed that my therapist and I have some things to talk about and figure out, it's on my list for her to help me with. Knowing what it is that sets me off on the wrong foot in the morning is paramount to moving forward with the life of Ryan. Yes, I'm in therapy and I have no qualms talking about it. I think it's one of the healthiest mental choices one can make for themselves. I'm not there because of a court order or as something I agreed to with anyone, except for myself. I know my limitations, and one that doesn't resolve itself is what goes on in this head and heart of mine. Does that make me weak? I don't think so, it's just the opposite, admiting you have shortcomings and need help overcoming those obstacles. Like the alcoholic that goes to a meeting for support, my therapist makes me think and talk outloud about things I don't necessarily want to openly talk about. I know what you're saying, "There's things you don't openly talk about?" and you're right, I will openly talk about anything. She just asks the questions that I haven't thought about, and she's candid in questions, no punches held back, she asks it like it is. It's actually surprised at times, her questions and our conversations. I'll stay out of the details, but she has been able to make me blush (can guys blush?) with a question or four as she sits back with the same look on her face that she has with any other question, like she isn't asking something rather personal that isn't a bit uncomfortable for the person being asked. It can be a very surreal experience at times to be sure.

I didn't intend to write about my therapy or anything connected to it today, except to say that I can acknowledge the good days and the bad days and I'm working my ass off to overcome the bad and live a life poised for 98% great and 2% ok. I do want to be happy all the time and I do want to be comfortable. Getting down the road to that destination takes preparation and fuel, therapy is one of the preparations that I require. I think there's plenty of other people in the world that could benefit from it as well, it just takes the additional preparation of finding that right person to confide in and build that trust, it can be a cool thing.

Weezer on the iPhone this morning, been spending my guitar lessons learning some good tricky rhythms and picking, many that come straight out of Weezer records. I've always dug this band; not flashy or over the top attention seekers. They just come out and say what they needed to say and play some kick ass music at the same time...oops, laptop battery about to poop out... guess I'm finishing this from the office...be right back...(7:38 am)

Ok, so that took a little more time than expected. It's now after 10 am, and I've been to a couple meetings already. Yet another busy day in the office, but not too busy to wrap today's piece up. It's amazing to me how many people are dealing with so many of the same things I'm dealing with right now. 1 friend of mine is super down and trying to figure out what to do after an injury is postponing his employment. Professional baseball players being sidelined for 5 weeks in a season with only 7 weeks remaining has got to be a heavy blow, and add to that living in a foreign country where no one speaks your language. I can only imagine that feeling of being alone and having life on pause. Another friend just sold the house they've been renovating and living in over the last few years. After the blood and sweat and love to make it a home, they had to sit back and watch the new owners take measurements and decide what furniture goes where.

Being replaced or sidelined has to be one of the toughest moments that we as humans can go through, regardless of the context of the situation. The length of that emotion can last a lifetime, or 5 weeks, again, depending on the context of the situation. I guess the game plan has to be to focus on the things that are great and focus on changing the ones that aren't. For me, I take the bench every morning and play the best role I can from the dugout, one day at a time. Some days I hate it, and other days, I simply sit back and smile and thank God for allowing me to even suit up.

Stay blessed-

Le bonheur est juste en dehors de ma fenêtre

2009-07-15T07:48:00.000-07:00

Being a romantic sucks, it really does. There's this picture in my head of how I want things to be, and it's just sitting on pause, a button push away from being deleted off the DVR connected to my life. It just sucks, today is one of those days where smiling and redirecting my attention keeps leading me back to the corner of Main and A Street, where the future looked so much different from this reality. I'm sorry there's no witty story or humor today in this post, it's just not there. What is, is the simple fact that I feel destroyed inside as the tears keep welling up behind these brown eyes as I sit in my dark office trying to maintain some picture of leadership while holding on tight to my humanity. That part of me that is grieving and remembering a life less confusing and tortured. Yes, I am tormented by the past, the mistakes that in hind site may have been what truly wasn't right about all of it, and I can't help wondering about the what if's, the pieces that looked like they fit and felt just right. And yet, I'm sitting here, alone, naked and scared with my heart on a wire. Did they fit, they sure felt like it. So maybe in my romantic rose colored glasses, I'm really just delusional and instead of seeing things for what they are, I turn them into what fits for me... Damn this all, take this all away is what I'm screaming inside this body today, cause it hurts more than I've wanted to admit and it's breaking me down. I don't want to be a pessimist, don't want to become hopeless, resentful and hurtful. I want to be the greatest version of me, the man that smiles because he means it, hugs because he needs it and loves because there's no life without it. Today I am sad despite my attempts to move past it. I could really use a hug...

And like all music in my life, 'Happiness' by The Fray just hit my ears. How timely right? Guess there's a reason for the genius playlists in iTunes...I probably wouldn't have added this song on it's own

Happiness is just outside my window
Would it crash blowing 80-miles an hour?
Or is happiness a little more like knocking
On your door, and you just let it in?

Happiness feels a lot like sorrow
Let it be, you can’t make it come or go
But you are gone- not for good but for now
Gone for now feels a lot like gone for good

Happiness is a firecracker sitting on my headboard
Happiness was never mine to hold
Careful child, light the fuse and get away
‘Cause happiness throws a shower of sparks

Happiness damn near destroys you
Breaks your faith to pieces on the floor
So you tell yourself, that’s probably enough for now
Happiness has a violent roar

Happiness is like the old man told me
Look for it, but you’ll never find it all
But let it go, live your life and leave it
Then one day, wake up and she’ll be home
Home, home, home

Stay blessed-

Lotion for face, Pomeade for Hair

2009-07-14T06:53:00.000-07:00

Have my headphones today, thankfully one painfully quiet day without music was enough to trigger the mental reminder to throw them into my bag before heading to bed last night. Bed time came late, such a surprise. I had ever intention to hit the sack around 10:00 when lo and behold, it was more like 11:30 when my head hit the pillow with Bean snuggled in tight to my side. 5:15 am the alarm went off and I snoozed it just long enough to realize that damn, it's morning already! Another day, another opportunity to be something, be someone, or be something to someone. I never know what that something is going to be or who that someone is, but it's a shot, right? Maybe be something to me? So Adam Duritz sings his melancholy in my ears this morning against beautiful melodies of fiddles and pianos and guitars and I'm always surprised to hear these songs and layers within the music that I hadn't recognized before. Started off the play list with "insignificant" off the 'Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings' album which speaks to a topic none of us want to face. "I don't wanna feel so different but I don't wanna be insignificant" and I know that feeling all too well. Want to remain in this place of inspiration and hurt, but don't want to die knowing I didn't leave my mark. Scary thought, right?

So, as I ran through my morning routine, pre-coffee, pre-awake really, I powered through trying to beat the clock and knowing how quickly I needed to get my ass out the door. Shower, towel, deodorant, drawls, pants, shirt; so far so good. Toothpaste on toothbrush, 45 seconds per quadrant, done. Reached back into the drawer, toothpaste and deodorant dropped back in, pulled out the face lotion and pomade. Lotion in hand, hands in hair, rubbed it in good. Pomade fingered out of the canister, rubbed into my hands, hands to the face, rub in nice and deep...Wait, what the hell did I just do! Yeah, I did it, in my haste to hurry things up, and I can honestly say it's the first time I've ever done it, and let me tell you first hand, pomade is not a moisturizing agent. So there I am, hair looking like some kind of amazing and gooey sticky paste on my face, I so wish I had a picture for posterity. Bean just sat on the floor staring, I know deep down that could she have said something, she would have been cackling like Marge Simpson's twin sisters. I did have a quick laugh and got to fixing my error. 10 minutes and a whole lot of scrubbing later, I was out the door to the train station...talk about my life in a snapshot. Somethings have to be in the right place or else disaster ensues.

Question of the day (Pre-Pomade Incident): How can an introvert truly be lonely alone? In college I took the Myers-Briggs assessment, which is a psychometric questionnaire designed to measure psychological preferences in how people perceive the world and make decisions(Thanks Wiki). Believe it or not, and I do agree for the most part, I am an introvert. I get energy from being to myself and really am not comfortable in huge crowds. I'm more of an intimate scene kind of guy, a few close friends always preferred to a house party, chill bar or pub over a club. It's not to say I wouldn't go to either, just not my real cup of tee, and probably a good reason my circle of friends hasn't grown year after year. Back to the question though, how is it that in my isolation, where I should thrive, can I be this lonely? I know the obvious answers, but that's not what I'm asking. Where is the motivation I seek to escape this boredom? Oh yeah, I'm finding alone time super boring and a bit aggravating. Is this stir crazy cabin fever I'm approaching?

I tried smiling more yesterday, my day flew by, and I guess it did feel better than it had over previous days. I still feel like a cannon ball shot through the air, trying to learn to fly without the pin point accuracy of a missile and not knowing my target or trajectory. It's scary, not knowing what's next and the risk taker is burrowing his head in the sand, too afraid to see the results.

Damian Rice in the ears now, angry bitter Irish man who so eloquently and beautifully sings words that often pour out of my heart and my eyes "So it's not hard to fall, when you float like a cannonball". I'll keep trying to smile today, especially with the lotion and pomade in the correct places.

Stay blessed

Lundi sanglant, heure de sourire

2009-07-13T06:55:00.000-07:00

Mondays, ugg. That means the week is here whether I want it to be or not. I really don't want it to be here already, can I have my Sunday back, please? yes, I'm whining a little. This week is going to be hectic, (UAT kicking off again on my project) too many things to accomplish or just get done, and well, I don't want to. I'm ready for the weekend already and there's 5 days of business first. Nonsense I tell you!

Got to the train station this morning and went into a slow panic as I realized I didn't have a set of headphones. Most days, there's at least 3 pair, today there are none. I know exactly where they are in my place too. The main iPhone headphones are sitting on my desk since I needed to sit on a few conference calls Friday, my big dogs are sitting in the kitchen, where they have been since I moved into the place and the 3rd pair are where they always are in case I forget one of the other two pair; in my other laptop bag that I haven't been using since I replaced it with this Ogio pack... Crap, no music on the iPhone to discuss today. Guess you'll have to come up with your own download of the day, but if you were waiting on my suggestion, check out any Van Morrison, Counting Crows or Michael Franti and Spearhead. That sounds about like what I would be listening to on this cold, wet, dark July Monday morning. Plus, I'm getting revved up for the Counting Crows show at Marymoore Thursday night. You haven't lived in the purity of music until you see CC live, especially this tour with Michael Franti and Augustana. From what I've heard, there is no true spot for the bands, they are winging it at every show, doing songs all together, songs just as a band and intermingling through 3 separate dare I say, "jam sessions"! Should be an amazing night, much like every CC show. I'm a nerd, I follow Adam Duritz on Twitter (http://twitter.com/countingcrows) and his updates are funny as all get down.

I haven't written in a few days now, mostly cause I've been lazy, but mainly because I was getting sick of talking. Talking about my depression, about my current situation and reading back over it was making me feel like all I do here is whine and commiserate, and that is not who I am. I've spent so much time thinking about being miserable and lost and alone, that I've not done justice to the awesomeness that is me. Ok, that's a stretch, I'm only kind of awesome, most of the time. Seriously though, I've been selling it short, mailing it in. We all (most of us, usually not so publicly) do that when we're hurt and feeling bad, and that's ok from time to time I guess, but it cannot become who we are and what we are all about. It's not good for anyone. I do believe that bad energy begets bad energy, meaning if you walk around every day feeling sorry for yourself and you carry this angst and hurt with you, you'll only attract more of that. Unless you live on the corner of nowhere and BFE, like I do, than you just hang out by yourself wishing you were somewhere else or someone else. I can say, that putting it all out there in this forum has led me to understand some things that I probably wouldn't have had I not. I'm surprised by how many other people are going through these same things, these disappointments, these life style changes, these same losses. It's sickly comforting to know I'm not the only one, but it really sucks that so many people are feeling the way I am. I will say this now, I do not want to be the flag waiver for the cause, the poster boy for this pain.

Phone call, please hold...

So the train was really empty this morning so not having headphones wasn't a total blow to my senses. No chatter boxes to annoy me and I think in the 10 months I've been commuting into the city every day, this is the first time I've walked through downtown listening to the city. Lots of sounds as I walked through construction at 2nd Ave and Seneca, forced into a single walking path surrounded my multiple smokers. Why is it that smokers look so sad in the morning? Except for this one girl I pass every morning at the bottom of the stairs heading down to the water on Alaskan Way, she's always smiling as she texts away, oblivious to the world around her, reminds me of my old roommate Chanda, always smiling. I'm going to smile more this week, even if I have to fake it.

Stay Blessed-

Father Time

2009-07-09T09:01:00.001-07:00

"It's easy to retreat than to face yourself and let things fall in place. There's no words to describe the way I feel today but I still feel ok" I think that sums up my Thursday Morning, here's to moving beyond OK!

Once again, I've been spending a lot of time thinking about things. Trust was a topic of conversation from the previous day and I realized that I trust too much, trust too often and trust too easy. But that's me, right? I'm not about to go changing that part of me. I'd rather believe everyone than face them thinking they're lying or using me for something. I have succumbed to the fact, as my dad used to tell me, "people will let you down" even when they don't want to or mean to. It's going to happen. For me, it's how you handle the let down, the disappointment. I want to forgive and forget as often as possible and if only I could do the same for myself, we'd (me, myself and I) be in business and I'd be sleeping more. I'm not sleeping anymore

So to trust is a heavy topic and one I hadn't truly considered in some time, it's something I just do. Now I know I've said it many times that I don't just go trusting anyone, which is true, I don't just trust everyone. In fact, I think a lot of people aren't too genuine at the surface and it takes some time to crack that shell, which I guess is part of the trust building process. Even I have admitted publicly here that I have plenty of masks and walls that I build up to keep that building from happening. The problem, if you can call it a problem, is once I open the door and let someone in, I think about when the ball is going to drop. When are they going to disappoint me or let me down. That's not trust, that's fear, and that fear has held me back from living the life and building the relationships that really mean something. Again, don't get me wrong, I have some amazing relationships with some of the most amazing people, friends that I call family. They get to see 100% of me, uncensored, no edits, no holds barred. They wouldn't have me any other way, well, at least most of the time. Those are the people I trust unconditionally and respect without boundaries. Getting me to put my guard down outside of that "circle of trust" (i.e. DeNiro) is not so easy, despite the fact that I don't necessarily mind getting punched in the face from time to time. But in all seriousness, it's not so easy and I am not too quick on the draw to just let anyone in.

How do I change that or better yet, should I even think about changing that part of me? Am I missing out on adding to my circle or sparing myself from the let down of disappointment? and in turn, missing out from getting closer to awesome people or reconnecting with old ones? I guess you have to weigh it out and I have never been one to not take a risk, even when you know it's gonna hurt like hell when you land. That's how I'm built, I'm just really tired of being let down and jaded by all of it and maybe my expectations are too high. Wouldn't be the first time I've had to admit that I expect a lot because I put out a lot. No, not in that context you're running through your head at the moment, go ahead, have yourself a laugh and then come back to this, I can wait... you done yet... ok seriously...

Anyway, that's probably enough from me now that I've turned the topic upside down. I want to trust me than ever this year, open up to a point that there's no question about my devotion to this life I'm living and have a shot at dealing with the blows and keep moving forward, regardless where that road leads. And I hope you will too, as one of my favorite songwriters, the late Shannon Hoon wrote, "When you feel your life ain't worth living you've got to stand up and take a look around you then a look way up to the sky. And when your deepest thoughts are broken, keep on dreaming boy, cause when you stop dreamin' it's time to die."

"words and music, my only tools"

Stay blessed-

**Post Script**
I do realize I contradict myself all over this post, just goes to show you how my brain is functioning these days. There's pieces I want and others I have no idea what I'm doing or what I want...

Cover Me

2009-07-07T07:05:00.001-07:00

The iPod is full of new stuff this morning. New in the sense that I haven't listened to some of this stuff in years, and some I barely know. The Fray is on right now, but another band is heavy in my chest this morning. Kaiser Mansfield is a band from the early 90's that I'm sure still plays to this day. If you're a big fan of blues gospel/southern rock, they are worth the listen. As you well know, I've spent a lot (maybe too much) time thinking about life and love and those that have come and gone too early in my life. I struggle with death and life and letting go of things that are beyond my control and comprehension. I've said for a long time that I am not afraid of dying, it's going to happen someday, it's inevitable. At this age, I'm not ready, there's too much living still to be done, and there's another life that is counting on me living it with him. There's no truer moment than hearing that laugh or that cry in the dark during the early hours of the morning. He needs me almost as much as I need him.

Back to Kaiser Mansfield, the song below is one of those that from the first time I heard it back in high school to today, has the same defining impact on me. I am not the man I know I can be everyday and I am not the witness I know I should be. My faith has never defined me, but driven me to make impactful choices and show compassion in a world lacking both. And when I'm at my deepest darkest moment, my knees and my heart know where the conversation starts. I really am a long long way from my home, but until I get there, I'm going to live it because of grace and sacrifice for me.

Long Way from My Home
Tonight I am missin' you
Oh, tonight I am missin' you
In the light of day
I had lost my way
An' tonight I am missing you
Never thought I would come this far
I never thought I would come this far
I have come through such pain
in the strenth of your Name
Never thought I would come this far
I am a long. long way from my home
I am a long, long way from my home
I've been a pilgrim on this earth
since the day of my birth
I'm a long way from my home
Tonight I'm sittin' on this porch in the rain
Tonight I'm sittin' on this porch in the rain
But Hallelujah by and by
I will meet you in the sky
I'm still a long, long way from home

Stay Blessed all-

The To Do: list

2009-07-06T08:59:00.001-07:00

Well here we are, starting the work week again. It's been a nice few days to get things in line; hang out with my little man, hang with friends, take in some sun, pose for some pics, drink for the sake of drinking and watch the silly fireworks explode for hours all around me. I had a lot of time, as well to think, which can be a double edged sword. Solitary time scares me, alone with my head and my heart in my hands, with nothing but me. Casually that sounds like a great time, a space to be productive and enjoy this life. Reality is, it can be a nightmare. I swear sometimes I think I have some stoner A.D.D. where my brain goes 10,000 miles a minute and I have all these lists made of things to get to, and then I stall. Remain in the same place knowing I should be doing something on a "list". The examples range from simple everyday stuff like emptying the garbage or the dishwasher and rotating laundry to hitting the gym and picking up the phone to touch base with someone. My 'on demand' button was getting the best workout between the two of us.

The weekend came and went faster than I wanted it to, it always seems to work that way when you don't need it to. Spent the day at a small lake in the middle of nowhere, with a name like "Floating Feather" or something like that. Small lakes are always warmer early in the summer and this one was, on the money exactly what I needed. A whole lot of empty cans, some soothing herbs and a BBQ rounded out the day at the lake and a few of us headed back to the booming metropolis of Monroe to watch the fireworks. I'm stoked there's so many stupid people in the world willing to have their homes foreclosed on so that they can blow shit up for everyone's amusement. Personally, if it was my money going up in smoke like that, I'd force people to pay to watch, or make them close their eyes. Gotta pay to play, right? So there we sat, in lawn chairs, in the middle of the road of a cul-de-sac and stared at the sky. Any time a car came through, it was a replay of the street hockey scene from 'Wayne's World', "CAR", "Game On!" It was amusing to say the least, and made me feel 10 years old again. Doesn't everyone want to look at the sky with the same amazement of those years? I can only imagine what went through the head of Jackson as he watched in wonderment with his mom 100 miles away. Is there anything left in the universe that can make me feel that way again, amazed? I'll add that to my list of 'things to amaze me'. Any suggestions, don't hesitate to fire them my way.

That's the abbreviated version today, it was much more in depth and emotional and real than all of this. I'm guarded today and not wanting to keep up with the truth that lives in me through these words. Pain is supposed to be temporary so I know at some point this will be different, today it's not. It just isn't no matter how hard I work at changing that. That's on the list temporarily titled, 'Shit that has to Change'. Thanks to those of you who saw me through this last few days, once again you're my lifeline and rocks.

Stay Blessed

Bleeding for a Dream

2009-07-01T06:53:00.001-07:00

I added the 'Truth Failed' Demo EP to my iPod this morning, haven't listened to it in a long time. I'm still convinced that we could have been an awesome band, one that played great music and had lyrics and content that spoke to what was going on internally in me. Of course, inner turmoil within the band ultimately was what hosed us. None the less, hearing it again feels like a missed opportunity to do something that meant something more than getting up everyday and coasting through the day to day, being. Over the last 6 weeks or so, I've probably started writing at least 12 or 15 new songs and I've been looking for the right people to do this with. My office is full of muscians and although I do everything to keep business and personal seperate, there might end up being some blurring of the lines if the right situation shows itself. I just know there's more to life than simply getting through it and right now I'm just a sideline participant with no voice other than this blog and a few status updates.

Fell asleep on the couch last night about 8:30 and finally hit my own bed solo about 11:30, plus a bean. Got some much needed sleep after a strenuous gutar lesson earlier in the evening. Finally feel like my picking is coming along. Not playing any solo shows anytime soon but if that is the path, so be it.

NonP hit the iTunes store yesterday and I am so stoked for them. There's nothing cooler than seeing your friends faces on a single and getting to hear them and even better, know that anyone in the world connecting to the iTunes store can see and hear them as well. If you're reading this and haven't gone and checked them out after 1 of my 100's of posts about them, please go check them out (www.myspace.com/nonp). Good stuff coming out of Orange County via the PacNW!

So it's Wednesday and I get to be blessed with Jackson the next 2 nights! It's a totaly different world for me when he's not present and although the opprtunity to do stuff for me when he's not there is an option, everyday gets harder. I don't want to turn this post into another display of my depression or sadness or loneliness, but that is what it is, alone. I'm still learning how to deal with my current state and thinking about the road ahead and not knowing what's coming or worse, what's not. I'd be a fool to not spend some time thinking about that though, and preparing for where either road can lead to. Is cautious optimism setting myself up for failure? That's the question I asked the face in the mirror this morning, no answer.

Stay blessed

Take This

2009-06-29T06:56:00.000-07:00

Well it was a weekend, wish I could say everything went to plan. It was tough, tough on me, tough on Jackson, and honestly, just tough. I guess you don't understand tough until your child responds to nearly every question with a "no" and especially when 'No' is not an answer you're used to hearing or even accept as an answer. In my day to day business life, that's not acceptable to a completely acceptable question or solution and such, I am not to accepting of hearing or being told 'no'. So when you're own child starts answering "no" to every suggestion and ask you make of him, it gets beyond frustrating. I have to take a few deep breaths at times before I respond. I hate this temper that I've spent years keeping in check and learning how to think before responding. It gets tougher when you're on less than optimal sleep due to the previous evenings sleeplessness of your child. The last 2 nights were much tougher than normal, and the more tired he becomes as the hours pass, the more "fun" he transitions to. It was into the 9 o'clock hour the past two nights, 2 hours later than normal, although I've noticed that bed time is slipping into the 7:45-8:00 pm hours as he gets older. Unfortunately, that's not keeping him from waking up at 6:30 every morning. Oh the fun of toddlers, this is just the beginning of his independent years. He'll be 22 months this coming Saturday, where has the time run off to?

Saturday, Jackson arrived at my place around noon after a morning with mom and the Little Gym. We did some lunch and took a nap. From there, we headed out to my old stomping grounds at the lake house on Lake Sammamish for some fun in the sun with the boys for part two of Brent's Bachelor party. His new life jacket was waiting his arrival and he fell in love. Mainly due to the rad hot rod on the front and back of it, but I think in part because it's a real big kid jacket. He's loving stuff that big kids get to wear. We hung at the lake with the guys for a little while, watched boats and seaplanes and "big kids" jumping and being thrown into the lake. It was good to say hi, slap some hands and chat for a bit with the guys. It's pretty obvious that I'm a dad first these days, such a weird shift for me when I'm with this group of guys who have always known me to be the first one chugging a beer, first one in the water and the first one talking shit. That's always been me, I wonder what they see? Did some exploring at Ross through the toddler section and the toys, of course, didn't find much but the new DC kicks I found little man are pretty sweet. God only knows why I think white shoes for a rough and tumble little guy are going to stay white. That's probably why he hasn't worn them yet, right?

Saturday night (Sunday morning) found Jackson at my bedside crying about 2 am with Tigger in one hand, a binky in his mouth, and his green blankie in the other. Wet diaper in tow, got him changed and into my bed where sleeping 4 (Jackson, Bean, Tigger and me) is becoming a trend I don't mind although restful sleep is out the window. So, I slept until 6:30 am when it was apparently time to play! I think I had finally made it to bed about 1:00 am, such a dumb ass for thinking he might sleep in once on a Sunday morning. Apparently in everything I'm losing, my brain is going too. And with this move, my coffee machine hasn't made the trek yet so it's 6:30 in the morning, I've had maybe 2 hours of real sleep, and there's no "go juice" to accompany Barney and Friends...Don't read more into this than is really here, I love my son and all his intricacies, I'd never change a thing about him in my life. There's just a few slight modifications that I would make to his sleeping patterns and reasoning.

Sunday was off to shot gun start and with trying to maintain consciousness in my sleep deprived state was becoming more difficult, we grabbed Bean and headed out to get some coffee and hit the park. Slide after slide, chain ladders and false ship wheels, this kid has no limits to fear. He's go go go right off the bat and the purity in the laughter of a child is the sweetest sound on a Sunday morning. An hour and a half at the park and some minor boo boo's is enough to induce a coma for most kids, except mine. He's ready for any adventure and that includes watching his dad try to make Mac N Cheese without all the proper tools. My kitchen is still lacking some needed utensils and oh did I ever take for granted the real purpose of a collinder and measuring cups. Have you ever tried to empty a pot of boiling water from noodles with a square plate? I can say I have now as I emptied the water from the pot like skimming off the fat from cooking hamburger in a frying pan, except square plates don't really hold back as much of the noodles as one would hope. It was an exercise in futility and eventually I won. Only to realize that 1/4 cup of milk was going to be eyeballed. There's nothing wrong with runny mac n cheese, right?

Nap time lasted an hour instead of 2 or more and Jack and I headed to the pool. He's been in swim lessons now for the past week and his kicking and comfort with the pool has improved two fold. He's really starting to get the kicking part down and seems to enjoy it, at least for 5 min. Jackson is really good at letting you know when he's had enough and swimming in the pool is no exception. In an instant he can go from laughing his head off in one breath to screaming it off in the next. The crying is something I'm still getting used to, many times it can be turned back into laughter pretty easily but when he has an audience comprised of relaxing sunbathers, there's no turning point. It's on and so there we are, leaving. Headed back to the confines of the apartment where Barney and Friends are an "on-demand" button away and his binky and trucks are at his fingertips. Comfort for my little guy.

So now it's Monday and I dropped him off at daycare, crying as I got into my truck to head to work. I won't see him for the next 2 days and it eats me up. I'd gladly give up my personal time and rest to never have a day without my little boy. I know he's safe and bringing joy and laughter to his mommy and getting to share his same "no's" and independence with her. It's just not any easier being without both of them. As I write this morning, these lyrics are pounding my heart to the point that it may flee my chest at any moment as the tears are building up behind the dam I've been building to get me through the daily operations of business. I don't know how to keep taking this everyday

I can't believe
How far I've come
Now watch me stumble
And come undone
If you take away
These memories
Then all that's left
Is just me

'Cause I don't want this
And I don't need this
And I don't feel this
It seems that even though she's with me
I can't shake this
And I can't fake this
And I won't take this
Anymore

So you choose
To break my heart
Should have seen this
From the start
I'm haunted by
Your apathy
All that's left
Is killing me

'Cause I don't want this
And I don't need this
And I don't feel this
It seems that even though she's with me
I can't shake this
And I can't fake this
And I won't take this
Anymore

Do you believe
That the way you choose to be
I've always had to see
The brighter side of this so I don't lose my faith
Now the sun has gone away
It's getting colder every day
So before I freeze to death
There's something I should say

I don't want this
And I don't need this
And I don't feel this
It seems that even though she's with me
I can't shake this
And I can't fake this
And I won't take this
Though you say you understand
You still won't face this
Can't erase this
I won't embrace this
Anymore

Stay blessed

Mmmmk, it's Friday

2009-06-26T06:57:00.000-07:00

So no one needs to be reminded of the end of the work week, but I do. It means I have the next two days to be productive; have some fun, catch up with friends, get some stuff done at the place, and most important, hang out with my little man. It's also 2 days to reflect on things, a weekend of introspection, which if you haven't participated in for yourself lately, you probably should. It's well spent time.

I find a as many ways as possible to accomplish this. Most times, I write it out, whether it's here or in a written journal, I try and get it all out in words and make sense of it later. If you only knew the number of times I write something here and have to go back and clean up all of the nonsense crazy talk. I figure anything this public should have some creative limitation, otherwise you guys would be sending the men in white coats to find me for some further evaluation! No thanks. I like to think I'm a fairy well adjusted individual who is passionate about improving his situation and focused on dealing with the skeletons in the closet.

I had a very lengthy, very personal conversation last night with the most unexpected person, out of the blue. Unplanned and unexpected is always prefered for me. This life is so crazy and semi-predictable at times, that the unexpected is always a welcome change, at least in this instance. The conversation was heavy and left me feeling so thankful for having the friends in my life that I have been fortunate enough to be blessed with. As well, as honest as my friends are, it's beyond belief to me, that people see things you don't realize they are seeing and have real true feelings about. The perceptions we discussed were pretty spot on and some I hadn't consiously considered. Talk about awesome...to you I say thank you for calling me and thank you for checking in, I guess I didn't fully realize your awesomeness, you're rad.

Let's see, Mother Love Bone, Slightly Stoopid and Flogging Molly on the iPod this morning. Fairly random playlist of sorts, all with the same message, "Live Life". It's a short amount of time we get and the clock has been ticking. The weekend is consisting of time in the gym, guitar practice (after my lesson last night it's becoming obvious I don't practice enough) and a possible road trip out to Port Townsend to see my cousin and her family. That's just Saturday, and we'll see what Sunday looks like, hopefully the sun stays out and we can hit the pool.Of course, if you want to hang, call me

Enjoy the end of the week, stay blessed

Tuesday Train Ride

2009-06-23T07:00:00.000-07:00

If life was easy, would it be worth living? I've been writing a lot of music lately as it seems that the only time I feel like I have something personal to say is when there's some tragedy or devastation in my life. I've been praying more than I think I've prayed in the last 10 years, and often times I ask, "Why can't this be easy? When is it my turn to have something right?" I don't expect that those questions are to be answered in a way I'll ever understand or even what I want to hear. Often times, we tell people what they want to hear versus what they need to hear. I make a valiant attempt in that situation to always be truthful and say it how it is, much to the chagrin of the questioner. But that is what's expected right? Truth

My youth pastor from way back in the day at Boise Friends is now the pastor of a church outside of Houston called Friendswood Friends and thanks to the powerful medium of the internet, I get to have my Sunday Sermon every Tuesday via podcast. Check it out at http://www.friendswoodfriends.com/podcasts.htm or via iTunes. I suggest going back as far as possible and listen to David talk. He's an awesome human being, a great adviser and through everything, an amazing friend. He's an old soul to be sure, traditional in his beliefs but progressive enough to be fair, which is not the norm in most churches today.

The Transplants and Augustana on the iPod this morning, great balance of angst and softness. Yeah, I could use a cuddle, I'm not too proud to admit it.

The other music playing heavy on me today is turning into the soundtrack of my life. Aaron Lewis acoustic is pure and spot on and if you think Staind has turned a corner from the hard rock band that they once were and mellowed out, you need to have a listen to the latest album and beg me to burn you some Aaron solo stuff. I think the only difference between he and I right now, is he smokes an ounce a day, but our hearts and minds are in the same places. Give him a listen and know that emotion you hear while cuddled into your couch is the same place I turn to. There's some comfort in sorrow and well, it's truth. It's where you are, it's where I am.

Stay blessed----

A week

2009-06-22T08:29:00.001-07:00

I've had a week in the new place, it's not getting any easier, it doesn't feel like a home. I'm trying though, every day trying to add to it, make it comfortable, or as comfortable as it can become. It's an apartment, and it's apparent that I'm not into social living. Hearing footsteps above my head, doors slamming and floorboard heaters. I can't bitch though, it's a nice little community. It's gated so the riff raft stay out. Had Guinness with me on Sunday night, came into work and got a phone call about 12:30 to tell me that he hadn't stopped barking since 6:00 am and I needed to take care of it. Of course, I rode the train in so it was a $70.00 cab ride back to my truck before I could go get him and take him back to the house. Bean stayed with me last night, and she's at the place today. I didn't repeat the mistake, I drove into work today so we'll see if I get a 12:30 phone call about her. It's nice having at least one of the dogs there when Jackson isn't. Talk about a hand full though when there's a dog to get outside while trying to get breakfast together for Jack and get him ready for the day. Gone, for now, are the days of just opening up the back door and sending the dogs out to potty while going on about the morning. That'll be nice to regain from an efficiency and ease of use perspective. At least when he's not there, it's easy to put on a leash and go for a small walk.

Been listening to Street Sweeper Social Scene and the new Incubus record. Digging on both records right now, especially the acoustic version of "A Certain Shade of Green" from the debut album, great version.

It's quite different when I'm the only heartbeat in that place, it's nice having something there that needs me and wants to be near me. God knows I don't even want to be near me at times, something I need to work out in a session. Life is a weird thing though, the things we do alone versus who we are with others. My grandma once told me "Who we are in the dark, where no one else see's us, is who we really are." Underneath all of that outward persona and the mask we choose to wear, can be a scary face to, um, face. I look in the mirror and ask all sorts of questions, sometimes answered, and sometimes the questions are harder to ask than are hearing the answers that you know inevitably you have to deal with. And of course, I have a really hard time letting go of the hurt, the loss, the grief. I talk about it in this blog all the time, the personal hand grenades that explode my heart and shatter my spirit, only just as a reminder that I am still here. Tougher than I knew, resilient to the point that the mask can come off long enough to let people in close enough to understand. No walls at this point in my life, I've kept them really high for so long that when they tumbled down this time, I don't want to rebuild them. I've worn my heart on my sleeves all these years and it makes no sense to try and hide it now.

The Cats out of the bag...

2009-06-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

I've been spending a decent amount of time over the past few weeks trying to find a way to talk about this with those of you that this is for. I've probably crafted 10-15 different emails, picked up the phone and started to dial, only to hang up, and started to say something directly and then stopped myself before uttering anything on this topic. I just couldn't find the right words, and when the words started to come, so did the tears and the emotions and the fear that I've failed. As well, in the middle of all of this, some of you were living in the brightest moments of your lives, getting married, getting engaged and preparing to have babies. I didn't want to play any role in diminishing your moments with mine. So when the words aren't enough to cover it all, keep writing.

This morning, I write this with much anxiety and sadness. Last Friday I moved out of my home and into an apartment nearby my house in order to be close to my son and be available if something were to happen and Jamie needed me. See, the thing is, Jamie and I haven't been working for awhile now, despite my best attempts to "fix" us and what I indirectly knew was wrong with us. Since Jackson came into our world, there's been 1 single focus, him. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, as a parent your child becomes the number 1 priority. The downfall in that is the focus of you as a couple takes a back seat and for us, it fell off the radar. We haven't been the awesome Jamie and Ryan that we once were in a very long time. I can't say that we did everything we could have to be better, there were things we could have done better or at all. We just didn't

I'm a firm believer that God will never give me more than I can handle at one time and right now, he's pushing me harder than ever. Through everything that I've faced in my lifetime, I don't think anything has ever hit me this hard or hurt this much, but I know this is what needs to happen. Time apart for some introspection and some me time.

So, as you read this, I ask for one thing, and that is your prayers and your love and support that has been ever present in our lives as friends and my family away from family. I need that more than ever, as does she. She's such an awesome woman and I am still deeply tangled up in her, that won't ever change. Whether we change the things about us that have fallen apart is left to us to work through and only time can tell us where our roads lead. For now, we have separate places and are doing our best to be awesome parents and people, separate but together. If your first inclination is to pick up the phone and reach out today, please hold back until later tonight. Jackson and I have plans and of course I'll be working my little arse off today. Hopefully I'll see a lot of you this weekend and we can hug like never before.

I love you all and thank you for being my friends and accepting me as I am, even with my faults and quirks. You're the people that have kept me going for all the years.
Ryan

GFY

2009-03-04T08:07:00.001-08:00

I was shot out of a cannon this morning, well maybe not straight out of bed, but as soon as I got out of the shower... It's a Wednesday, just like any other Wednesday, or any other normal work day. Nothing crazy on my calendar, no out of town guests, no insane weather pattern or comets flying too close to the earth's rotation. A Wednesday like any other and yet, I'm on fire. Walking with a purpose through downtown and the whole time thinking "GFY" to nearly every person who crossed my path between the train station and my office. Even in my office, all I can think to just about everyone is "GFY, for reals...", even people I like and especially those I can't stand. I haven't taken my headphones off since I've been in my building and I couldn't wait to hit my facebook profile and update my status to say "Ryan says Happy GFY Day".

Now really, do you have to ask? Seriously, you don't know? If I really do have to explain than I think it's important that you spend a lot more time considering the author and the mood expressed within this little rant. EVERYONE has been annoying this morning (with the exception of my beautiful family), up to and including the people at daycare, the coffee stand ditz, the asshole in the POS Toyota Corolla that drove 30 in a 40 on a 2 lane road between daycare and the train station, the lady who gets off at the same place every morning that I do that seriously tapped my shoulder to tell me she was getting off (I just looked at her with the GFY face and turned my back to her), the 4 women smokers outside of Starbucks on 2nd and Seneca who insist on spreading out their fat asses and clogging up the entire sidewalk with disgusting smoke and even more insulting, the look of entitlement that is smeared across their caked-on post-menopausal make-up faces... The only real sense of joy this morning came when I got to 1st and Seneca and witnessed a taxi and a relatively similar POS Toyota Corolla stuck in the intersection with a city bus bearing down on them, horns ablaze. I think all the assholes that can't wait for the next green light deserve a good ear lashing from a city bus when they leave the ass end of their POS car out in the intersection, and the city busses don't give two shits, they will let you know it, and I love that!

So again, I ask, do I really need to explain the acronym? If the answer is yes, consider this my response, GFY, Seriously... Happy Wednesday

A Monday, dull shade of sad

2009-01-15T08:21:00.000-08:00

There's an inherent darkness that follows my mood on Monday's. I've never quite been able to get my hands on it, I think my shrink would say that I set myself up for it and she may be right. There's something calming about laying on my own grenade, at least I know what the results will be rather than rolling the dice and allowing some other source determine my mood. She would also tell me that we, as people, have the ultimate control over how we feel. "No one else can determine your happiness or sadness" she's been known to utter. To this, I roll my eyes, as I know that I should pick how I feel like a tie from the closet, but the thing is, the tie should match the shirt, the belt, socks, you get the picture. If your heart hurts when you open the closet door, no matter what you want to pick out, the only color available is a dull shade of sad. So really, what choice is there? That's my Monday's, choice less-sad and amazed.

So the next question I ask myself is always, "why are you sad" and Damn it all, if I only knew. There's a lot of things to be sad about that haunt me everyday but rarely do they take over, except on Monday's. I let them, to remind me of what I'm missing and not to ever take it for granted that amazing people come and go. Hold on to the amazing as if your life depends on them. There's days where I know that mine did, they saved me enough times, and I couldn't do the same. Maybe that's the point, you can't save them all, might not ever be able to save any of them. Is that guilt or remorse or simply just missing the part of them that filled a part of my life that simply cannot go on without them in it and that's the part that screams on the street every Monday morning as I walk out of the bus tunnel and into the dark and windy cold of the city. I've had years to deal with these lost ones and everyday is the same feelings. Makes one wonder, will anyone feel this same dull shade of sad when I'm gone? I'm not looking for that answer, but God I hope that no one else close to me ever goes through the consistency in which the sadness crashes and learning how to navigate the overwhelming chasm of missing loves is an unreachable goal. You just learn how to keep going on and keeping the ghosts at bay 6 days a week, which is about the best I can hope for.

Smile like you mean it

2008-11-06T08:08:00.000-08:00

I cried, I can admit that. I got teary in the moment, knowing that the ceiling had been broken. That we as a people had ascended above color and race, finally. It wasn't uncontrollable crying like Jesse Jackson, it was a few tears of joy and relief and knowing that this campaign and it's daily struggle was finally over and resulted in the best possible outcome for our country.

Today however, I am extremely saddened and disappointed. I'm friends with many different thinkers, a wide array of opinions and experiences, various lifestyles and geographies. I'm a tolerant guy who can usually agree to disagree if I can't be persuaded, which I'll admit, rarely happens, but it's not out of the realm of possibilities. Many of my friends are also friends with each other. The last few weeks have been tense between the various thought processes; left, right and in between, and passion has not been in short supply. I've had phone calls and emails and IM conversations that felt like food poisoning leaving me with a stomach ache and a broken heart. If there's anything I want to be remembered for in that last moment, is that I was a true friend; who loved and supported through the good, the bad and indifferent. And despite our differing opinions, ideals and political ideology, at the end of the day I was your friend and you were mine. I'm watching some of these crumble before my eyes. In the day and age of instant commentary despite distance and geography, having a say within 2 seconds of the last comment is allowing that same passion to be misdirected and putting friend against friend. It's ugly and it's sad.

I've been a strong INFORMED Democrat and began working on campaigns during the first Clinton run, long before I could vote. I did my research, found my way, on my own. Like all of my friends, I had the opportunity to choose for myself, for my family, and for my country. I'm overjoyed that my opinions and my voice was shared by the majority of this country this time. I've spent the last 2 presidential terms feeling much like my friends who don't share my opinion do now; upset and worried. To them I say this, I don't know what the future will hold. I know the direction and I pray, much like you do, that the direction and the destination deliver this country to a better place than it was on Monday, for you and me, and our children. There is no glory or honor in tearing one another down over this election, over someone's opinions.

Take care of each other

Falls Here, Cozy time

2008-10-23T08:07:00.000-07:00

I don't know exactly when it happened, but it seems like overnight the leaves changed colors and started falling to the ground. Nearly every morning, I pass a grandmother and her 2 year old granddaughter heading up Seneca as I make my way down to my office. She has to be one of the happiest babies, always smiling as she walks uphill in the city holding tight to grandma's hand. This morning her smile was bigger than ever as her free hand proudly displayed a giant yellow maple leaf for all passers by to see. She waved it at me and laughed, which of course made me smile. Not a bad way to start the day. Happy Thursday

2008-10-20T07:50:00.001-07:00

I've been on the brink of tears for about 24 hours now, and I'm not sure where it's coming from. It's an overwhelming feeling, like damned water on the verge of overflowing it's levee. As much as it may seem that I enjoy the interior torment, i promise that I do not. Yes, it occasionally fuels these rants, er, writings I pen, but trying to decipher the "why" when there isn't anything weighing heavy makes me a little nutty.

We went to church yesterday, it was the first time Jamie and I had ever gone to church together and Jackson's first time ever being in a church. I'm debating if my attendance has been the tear driver, an overwhelming guilt of not attending a Sunday service in over 10 years? If my grandmother was still here she would tell me it's God's presence returning to my heart, although I didn't know I'd ever asked him to leave. In fact, I'm pretty solidly sold on the fact that his presence in my heart, and head, is what has kept me alive all of these years. I've done some pretty dumb shit, outright stupid at times, and through it all I have still been blessed with a pretty awesome life. Who can say they been in the bottom of the 9th, staring at the end of the season, down 3 runs and knocking the ball out of the park to live another day? The self generated hand grenade factory went out of business awhile back and I do believe that it was the grace of God (along with a good therapist and the love of a very patient woman) that has led me to this place of awesomeness. Again though, where is this welling of emotion coming from?

I had another thought this morning how unfair goodbye's are, especially if you never got one. Pat's been gone now for a few years and yet everyday still feels like it just happened. I wonder if I'm the only one still dealing with his death, seems like it. Maybe I should be over it but not a day goes by that I don't look for his advice and his laughter. How is it that people like that just go? Wish I could be an arrow shot into the nights sky and pierce that fallen star that is my friend and stop that decisive moment. That moment past, but it catches up with me everyday and I can't help but acknowledge it.

The Seahawks lost again last night, 1 and 7! Holmgren's last season here and this is how they send him off? That really does make me sad but not enough to cry, I'm over it and just keep hoping they get healthy and salvage some sense of pride through the rest of the season.

So there I am, still not sure this rainy Monday morning why I feel like crying. Part of me thinks it's a combination of the above, and pieces of my previous post, that are all combining for a recipe of waterworks. Now, if I can just maintain until after work.

Have a great day kids

Welcome Back

2008-10-16T11:21:00.000-07:00

So I've been thinking about writing again for a while now. I guess it's odd to have to think about doing it and actually needing to plan to do it. That is my reality though right now; if it's not planned for, I'm not doing it. Not that I may not want to do it or that or the other, just that I don't have any time to do it. Thus begins this new ongoing dialogue I'll be having here, assuming I can set aside the time to consistently do it.

I quit my job 6 weeks ago, shocking I know. 10 years of history became nothing more than a giant highlight on my resume, and a revelation that I hadn't given much credence to prior to leaving. I spent nearly 1/3 of my life at the same company, something I thought I would never do. I can honestly say though, there are a lot of things that have happened that I said "never" to. The list is long and unless I run out of other clever things to write about, I'll spare you from reading them now. I'm sure they aren't too far off from your own list of "nevers", what other explanation would there be for why we're friends?

So, there's no more AT&T for me, at least not in the near future (Again, trying not to say "never"), and I'm managing a new product for a small startup company in Seattle. It's been quite the culture shift for me, none of the impersonal stark realities of the corporate giant, but an eclectic mix of tech geeks, homeless sheik and magniloquent metros trying to be individuals in a sea of individuality. Maybe I'm not being fair describing the people within this company of less than 300 employees, but I'm a firm believer that perception is reality. My perception is a little skewed though; I spent the first 6 or 7 years swimming against the corporate current, and the last few just "being". Being disenchanted and disengaged, being overwhelmed at one moment and under whelmed the next. Simply put, I was discontent with just being a part of that corporate antiseptic that was slowly turning me into an old man. Wouldn't you?

The trip into the city every morning makes me feel like a champion for the environment and a grown up all at the same time. I park the F150 every morning and saddle up to a commuter train, followed by a quick walk to a hydrogen powered bus ride, directly into the heart of the financial district. 4 downhill blocks, an elevator ride and the swipe of a badge lands me in this place I now call my office. I love the last 4 blocks of my walk in each morning. Even if it's raining, I am afforded the opportunity to overlook the Puget Sound as I make my way down Seneca and under the viaduct. It's beautiful and a great reminder of why I fell in love with this part of the country and why I'll probably never really leave it. That beauty, and a nice pretty paycheck, however, comes at a pretty steep price for me, (You can start your "Whaaa" Cry now). I leave the house with my son at 6:00 am and drop him off at daycare. Not a huge ordeal, but getting home after 6:00 pm most nights means I might get an hour to spend with him before bed. 5 hours from Monday to Friday blows, especially at this period in his life. It's amazing how different the priorities have become for me, I feel like a grown up and it's weird.

A New Chapter for Life

2007-09-05T08:17:00.000-07:00

At 8:36 pm Sept 4th, 2007, my son was born. After more than 24 hours of contractions, IV's, epiderals, tears and sleeplessness, he found his way into the world. It was a process, one that I don't think Jamie and I will ever want or desire to go through again, but one that has been the most worthwhile and meaningful "process" of my life. I won't speak for Jamie directly, but my senses tell me that she would concur with that thought. Just looking at her now, here in this hospital room, holding our new son, patiently waiting to give him his first bath, having slept a total of maybe 2 hours in the last 48, she looks as content and peaceful as a vacationing millionaire in Brazil. She did so awesome and continues to amaze me. She was a trouper through it all and I have to admit, it's a damn good thing that men are not responsible for giving birth. After everything I witnessed yesterday, and I know some of you can confess to this as well, I would never ever want to be the one in the bed, I wouldn't have made it through. Jamie on the other hand, took everything in stride, breathing through the contractions, being poked and prodded and being interrupted by a new nurse, anesthesiologist and OB doc every other 5 min. I was amazed at how she kept her cool, I on the other hand, probably would have started shooting, no doubt. And even after all of the pain of contractions, she ended up having a c-section, yet another "process" that she took in stride, almost a smile.

Anyway, thanks to everyone for the text messages, phone calls and emails. The prayers, although unheard on our end, have definetly been answered and I appreciate all of you for doing so. More pictures to come soon.

God bless-
Ryan Scott

37 Weeks

2007-07-11T00:03:00.000-07:00

That's right, we hit 37 weeks today! That means we're full term, although the due date is still 21 days away. Should we go into labor though, they are not going to stop it. I'm about to become a dad! Holy Crap…

21 days, yes I am counting down! Who wouldn't be at this stage, hell, I've been counting down since month 1. I think it really started to sink in for us when I told Jamie one night, "Guess what? We have less than 100 days to go, we're finally in double digits!" That was a crazy feeling that has continued day in and day out, gaining acceleration as each hiccup and belly kick occurs from within the belly oven my best friend has been carrying for the last 35 weeks. What a unbelievable time this is. There are so many unknowns, a multitude of questions without answers, volumes of information at our finger tips and many more firsts for us.

We've always acknowledged our firsts; First Kiss, first day trip, first over night trip, first time in a car together, first date. I can remember vividly each one of those firsts and I love to remind her of that first movie we watched together or the first time we laid on the couch by the fire with a bottle of merlot and as much as those firsts will always hold a place in my heart, I'm starting to wonder if the new list of firsts will overcome the existing one? The first scream from our son, the first time in a car seat, the first feeding, that first smile or first step. Are the firsts that we hold so close in our hearts going to succumb to his firsts? I'm scared to death to become that parent that initially still hangs out with the single non-parent friends and only talks about the kid and then slowly but surely gets weaned out of that circle of friends and brought into a new circle of friends that all have children and all they talk about is their kids. Comparing the number of steps their kids took or whose kid can take more consecutive steps without crashing to ground in tears. I have a sincere fear of becoming that dad, not that I don't want to have conversations and gloat about being a father, more that I will further isolate myself from my long time friends who do not understand parenthood or don't want to be constantly reminded of what their lives could eventually look like.

Personally, I love my life, what's not to be loved? A wonderful woman and best friend whom I can share everything with, who allows me to be myself in all of my ups and downs. She knows I fart and poop, knows that I have late night cravings for shit food that would put a normal man in a coma, knows that I have ghosts that torment me and my sleep and all the while openly talks me back to calm. She is the perfect ying to my yang, and for that I am in love. I could spend days simply writing out all of the reasons that I love this woman, but I'll save that for another chapter entitled, "Try not to get sick from all this lovey dovey stuff".

We also have an amazing house that I am proud to call our home. We've put a lot of us into this place that started as a typical brand new suburban sprawl home in the middle of nowhere. You know those neighborhoods that seem to pop up where there used to be a field of weeds and nothing more, where every 5th house looks the same. Everyone has the same landscaper, local milk delivery and matching garbage cans that come out like clock work on Tuesdays. Everyone is a part of the home owners association and takes pruning and yard work far too seriously. You know that neighborhood, you probably live in one or drive by one on a daily basis and wonder what it's like to live there, it's cute and fun. Did I just say cute? Must be the new daddy coming out a bit prematurely. I've learned all sorts of new skills in this new home, the kind of skills that women find quite necessary in husband material. Like using a mitre saw to put up wainscoting, new base boards and a chair rail in the dinning room, hanging mirrors, painting, changing lighting and installing a back yard. Who knew back yards were so delicate from the beginning and so much work to prepare for? I had no idea what I was getting myself and my friend into. Needless to say, it's all done and looks quite nice! Those tasks are things I guess I never quite thought of as common sense type things or husbandly duties, but hell, I know how to do them now and it's a lot of fun making things our own.

As we approach this date in time for another "first", I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the babies that came into our lives before our son. Our dogs, Bean and Guinness, have been providing us lots of laughs, days at the dog park, and neighborhood walks, as well as plenty tears and frustrations from those "bad dog" moments that are quickly dismissed with sideways runs and plenty of licks. Our dogs have been our babies for sometime now. I remember the night Jamie brought Bean home. She fit in my left hand, the size of a coke can, weighing in at a gigantic pound. She couldn't have possibly been any smaller at 8 weeks old, resembling a hairless rodent that you couldn't help feeling sorry for and just wanting to keep close to your body in a very light cuddle. She's now a whopping three and a half pounds at 2 and half years old. What else would you expect from a teacup Chihuahua? And then there's the "Buddha" or "bubba" as we like to refer to Guinness. He's a tank at 14 pounds, part Chihuahua and part Terrier, maybe even part human. He has more character than any other dog I've even been around, understanding some key words like outside, treats and goodbye. Both of our dogs are pretty smart actually. At night or any time we leave the house without them, we ask them to "hustle up" and they run straight to their crate. They know the deal. Bean even understands the Spanish language, from anywhere in the house the simple mention of "queso" gets her ears to perk up and she runs straight to the refrigerator. They both LOVE cheese, and not just because it's food. If you say to her, "Bean, do you want some cheese (or queso)" she will do a 360 and head to the kitchen. She'll sit there and stare at you until you get it out of the lunchmeat drawer. I once made the mistake of asking her if she wanted some and found that we didn't have any; she peed on the kitchen floor directly in front of the fridge when I went back to the living room and turned on the TV. Oops! We have loved our dogs as children for over 2 years now and the idea that we are brining another child into our home to compete for our attention is not going to bode well for them. That's something else I'm very nervous about. Where's the dog whisperer when I need him?

One Year has Past

2006-02-28T13:20:00.000-08:00

"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same" -Anonymous

I started writing about this 40 some odd weeks ago, knowing that no matter what I did, no matter what I tried to do, it would still be on my mind, pouring out of my fingers, running out of my eyes. I knew that I had hit a moment in my life that would forever be remembered. You know there are so many things in this world that mean very little and somehow we as people get so caught up in them. We can talk trash about anyone, argue about the smallest things, say hurtful things in the heat of the moment and for what? What does it all matter in the end?

I've been worrying about that a lot lately, "the end". I know in the last year I've written a few things a long those lines and maybe it's just my internal clock ticking a little louder each year, but I've honestly finally realized how precious this time is that I have. It took losing my closest friend to understand how much I've been afforded in this life of mine. Why do I spend time bitching and moaning about this and that? Why don't I take moments every day to just smell the air, feel the ever present NW Weather on my face? Why not just drive somewhere new, accidentally misses a turn and just go for awhile. Roll the windows down in the cold and just be thankful I'm here?

I've had a year to think about a lot of things and my words of wisdom are as follows:

- If you think it might hurt, do it. There is no reward sweeter than the one thing you risked everything for.

- There is nothing more important than your family and friends. Do your best to repay their support by being better to everyone else in your life.

- There is no shame in asking for help, there is always someone ready to listen. I've always got an ear if you need it. It's cheaper than what I pay my therapist.

- Don't be afraid to cry, it just feels better to let it out. Even I do it

- Let music into your heart and lead your soul, be open to anything, you may find beauty in the strangest of melodies.

- Love bigger than you ever have

- Never ever give in to the darkness

One of the many things I learned from Pat is one of the simplest thoughts that we all ignore far too often, "be sure to try something new every day. You never know when your last day will come." I pray that I have plenty of days to come, I still have a lot of things to do. Make sure you don't waste this time either, go do something. Go snow shoeing, skydiving, bungee jumping. Do something this weekend that you said you'd never do, that you were afraid to try. Remember, pain is temporary, glory is forever. I don't want to die wondering what if, so I'm going to do my damndest not to.

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus

My Friends

2006-02-21T08:13:00.000-08:00

Every morning at 6:30 am I get a little text message from MSN Horoscopes. Usually something random, sometimes right on the money, sometimes very stupid. I normally give them a once over, every once in a while just delete them. This past week, almost without question have had something very specific to say about something I had already been thinking about. Friday morning's said "The workout plan you are starting tonight is one you will stick to". I thought maybe someone was sharing my discussions with Jamie to the all seeing internet, as we had planned to begin working out daily that night! Whoa!! So, there is something to be said about my daily horoscope text message and application in my life.

Now, to the point of this blog today. This morning's text of insight read "Don't let friends slip away just because you haven't seen them lately". How timely this was. Over the last month I have dreaded February 28th. That is the day that 1 year ago I lost my best friend, my confidant, my brother. Still to this day, the pain I felt the day I found out hasn't gotten any better, the anger has not subsided, the loss I feel has not been replaced, nor could it. His life impacted me to an extent that I cannot portray in words, but his death can be seen on my face by simply mentioning his name. Day in and day out, there is not one that goes by without me thinking about him, his swagger, his confidence, his leadership, his smile, his love. The impact I feel, is felt by many of my and his closest friends. His death brought many of us together, just as he did while he was with us. Almost immediately following his death, many of us who hadn't spoken in years were suddenly together, talking, hugging, crying, remembering old times. It was an attribute I always wished I possesed, being able to simply bring people together because of you. Pat had that in life and in death, he showed us once again, he still had it.

Almost a year has gone by and many of those same people have lost touch again. I must admit that even I have let life get the best of me and take over from reaching out to those same friends, putting in a call, stopping by when I'm in town to say hello. I try to call Jared and Jr about once a month, usually hit their voice mail, but I try. I call Pat's mom whenever I can, usually hit her answering machine and I know she smiles when she hears me say hello. I talk with Tyra and my beautiful God Daughter at least 2 or 3 times a month. It's so hard not hearing back from them all though, not taking the initiative to call me or call me back. They never were really good at that anyway, but it's hard. It's hard to talk about how I feel with people who can only sympathize. My friends who have gone through life with him can get upset and angry along side with me, feel the same pain and share their stories and that grief with me. I need that, even nearly a year later I still need that.

I've found that there is certain music that sets this off in me. Last night while driving to Jamie's my ipod landed on a Counting Crows song. Pretty much anything off of "August and Everything After" can set me off down this Lonely Road of Grief and Pain. "Raining in Baltimore" nearly kills me everytime I hear it and I know I should just skip it, but it is that pain that tells me I'm still alive. I was told that "to remove the pain from death would be to remove the love from life" so in some comfort to me, I'm supposed to feel this way. But for how long? Are my friends feeling this as well?

Pride always keeps a man from crying on the phone with other men, but on this topic I don't care. I can cry to anyone about this, I want people to know what a great man is missing from this earth. I also want people to know how I feel about suicide and what it does to the people who are left here asking "why". If that stops someone from putting their friends and family through what my friends and I have gone through and continue to go through because of it.

So my friends, this is me trying to stay in touch, trying to tell you how I'm doing, what I'm thinking about. I love you all and miss talking to you. I'm sorry if I haven't picked up the phone enough, keep trying and start answering.

Lucky is as Lucky Does

2006-01-12T22:57:00.000-08:00

This morning i'm sitting here thinking about how lucky i have been in my life. Lucky to have met certain people, lucky to have the career i do, lucky to have loved and been loved and being in love. i started to wonder why all of those things are luck, don't they just make me fortunate? Maybe it's a perspective rather than a fact. i decided to ask Jeeves, "What is Luck?"; the answer from a definition standpoint is:

1. noun: your overall circumstances or condition in life (including everything that happens to you)
2. noun: an unknown and unpredictable phenomenon that causes an event to result one way rather than another
3. noun: an unknown and unpredictable phenomenon that leads to a favorable outcome

So from that perspective, everything that has happened to me has been luck? Such as meeting some people 8 years ago when I first moved here who have become my lifeline, my other family here in Washington. It may have been lucky I was there to have been introduced to them, or is that fate? Was I lucky to have been raised in such a way that I was capable of being friendly and social enough to have made friends with them? Or was that just the nurturing and nature of things... Now I'm frustrated, why did I even start thinking about this?

Fate as a definition says:

1. noun: an event (or a course of events) that will inevitably happen in the future.

2. noun: your overall circumstances or condition in life (including everything that happens to you)

OH SHIT, look at that!!! Fate and Luck have the same definition?? What the heck? So whether I am lucky or not, Fate is going to decide what happens anyway... So then, is it lucky to have good fate? Does fate determine if I will be fortunate enough to have a lucky life?

I think I may drive myself crazy over this one but hell, it's been too long since I've pondered such ridiculous ideas such as Luck, Fate and Fortune. The bottom line is this however, I am so LUCKY to have the love of my friends, FORTUNATE enough to have the the love of the greatest woman in the world, and thanks to FATE, they are in my life!

Maybe I'll atempt to expand on all of this more later... Feel free to add to this discussion, I always love good banter about things we cannot see or hear, but believe are there, eh!

Blind, Stoned or just plain Stupid?

2005-12-15T14:32:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday I spent the day in the "Big Apple" walking around Manhattan, checking out the situation on the East Coast. I have to say, the city is much larger than I had imagined, TV and the movies do it no justice when it comes to relative size. None the less, I finally made it into the city. In all my trips out to the Garden State of NJ, I had never actually ventured into the city. After a few hours of holiday hustle and bustle, taxi's wanting to run my ass over in cross walks, wind burn and sore legs, I realized why hadn't. I am a West Coast, laid back, surfing and drinking kind of guy. Not as high strung as most of the locals I encountered. That's a whole other story in and of itself.

Anyway, as we planned out where we wanted to go and see, Ground Zero came up on our list. Having seen just about every last TV special around 9/11, including documentaries, endless news coverage, etc. I wasn't sure I actually needed to go to the site to "see for myself". I wasn't exactly sure I had any right to do so. Being with my friend who used to take the train in every morning to Tower 1, we went. He wanted to share his history with me, his recounting of that day, his pain. Normally I would say "tough shit, that's what therapy is for" but this time was different, closer to home. So we went.

As you cross the skywalk looking over the huge hole in the ground, it's almost unbelievable to think of what happened there. I felt sick to my stomach as he recounted and pointed out the train tracks that used to drop him off at his building. I was ill. We continued walking, me listening to his stories, feeling worse every step. We came out to the front memorial to the site, to the people who lost their lives. Thousands of people still to this day crying, memorializing and protesting. PROTESTING?? Even the 1st amendment doesn't stop certain clowns in this country from saying what they want to say. Here I stood, ready to vomit with people all around me and two men holding a sign which read, "9/11 was an Inside Job" and "Look at what we did to ourselves". I was shocked, how could anyone stand there and be more selfish to promote such bull shit. Even I don't like George W. but come on now! My sick stomach turned upside down, now I was just mad.

It's like President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad of Iran saying that the holocaust never happened! Are these folks completely out of their minds or just so fucked up that we have to just let them be? I'm not a proponent of the death penalty, nor do I think we should go kill anyone. However, there are times when I have to ask, what the hell is wrong with people? Why would anyone find any amusement out of preying on the misery of others? Don't get me wrong now, I'm all for fucking with people as often as possible, but when we are talking about the death of thousands like in NY or Millions in the case of the holocaust.

My dad always told me that as humans, we're not perfect and people will always let you down. I'm very disappointed in people, especially in New Yorkers that can stand there with their agendas and add salt into the wounds of those still grieving. I'm all for freedom of speech, it allows me the freedom to write my thoughts down here, speak freely to you all. This was one of the times where I wished that along with the 1st amendment, I had the right to kick the crap out of these guys. I was very surprised there wasn't an all out riot amongst the mourners and the clowns. I continued my walk and no longer felt sick by the empty crater where the towers used to stand, but sick that people prey on the emotions of those in grief.

With that said, what would you have done? Would you have said something to these guys? Thrown a punch? Let me know, I'm interested in hearing your side.

Who Get's What in the End??

2005-12-14T17:55:00.000-08:00

So, it's the end of the year and I'm faced with all sorts of wonderful paperwork and decisions. Open enrollment for insurance forces me to pick a plan, life insurance benefits and beneficiary(ies), W2 deductions/exemptions, etc... Such a pain in the ass... Looking through all of this has forced me to think about some cryptic shit though, like if I died, Who is going to make sure I get burried in the right place, who is gonna hide/take my porn collection so my parents don't get embarassed, who'll take the rest of my DVD's, who's gonna clean up my computer of anything embarassing, make sure everyone I'd want to know, knows? Why do I ever think about this stuff? Does anyone want that responsibility? Do I really care about any of this if I'm dead?

This is pretty lame I know, especially at our ages, but if not now, when is the right time to think and talk about this stuff? I'm not getting any younger... So, should I be thinking about a "living will" or setting up a trust? I feel really weird writing this stuff right now, but I can't help but think about it. It's not that I think I won't be here tomorrow or anything, but knowing that we have no control over when our time is up, I can't think that I have not prepared for death and know it would be a huge burden on so many of my friends and family. And, parents don't need to find porn DVD's, right? What if they ahd the same one's? GROSS!!!! (That's my feeble attempt to be funny in this very dark discussion)

So, from the peanut gallery, thoughts? What have any of you done if anything, or are you in the same boat I'm in and done nothing? I'm interested in hearing if anyone else has even contemplated this, I know we're all pretty young still but seriously, are any of us going to live forever?

Sit the Hell Down Already

2005-12-07T08:43:00.000-08:00

Quite frequently I find myself flying, mainly for business purposes, and I've noticed an epidemic that is becoming worse and worse each time I travel.

The media and airlines have somehow convinced Americans that no one is flying anymore as well... That's bullshit as I stand in line to get through security, only to consistently get pulled aside, strip searched, cavity checked and then sent on my way limping toward my gate. The walk to the gate is always a little bit longer when you've recently had someone's fingers up your ass looking for drugs or bombs or whatever else they may think you've shoved up there to travel with... But I digress

My issues really come from the boarding and unboarding experience. You get to your gate, have a seat cause your ass hurts still from the previous moments rectal exam, and you wait. You wait and wait and wait... Announcement comes over the Public Address system, barely audible, and a mass migration of folks sitting and waiting all jump off their fat asses and start pushing toward the gate. I see this everytime I fly. The cattle drive to board the plane almost makes me feel like I have to get up with them and stand there waiting instead of resting my very sore rear end. So I get off my tired sore ass and stand there and wait, constantly being pushed forward by the other heffers behind me. On especially hot days, that usually happen in Newark and Phoenix airports, when the AC isn't working, many of these larger folks actually smell like cattle, quite surreal... But I digress. So this drive begins moving forward, people acting like if they don't hurry up they may not make their flights. Yeah Right, you're pushing me forward so we can go from standing in one line to standing in another one on the jetway.That is quite simply because the assholes ahead of us cannot seem to find where on their ticket the seat assignment is and the corresponding number on each row will eventually match up! Seriously folks, figure it out and sit your ass down! Mine still hurts and I would appreciate you getting the fuck out of my way so that I can sit and watch you fuckers roam around aimlessly trying to squeeze a full size suitcase into a full overhead baggage area!

That's my next big gripe; people not checking their luggage and thinking it'll fit overhead. It goes hand in hand with how long it takes to board and unboard the plane. Listen folks, this isn't the era where luggage disappears all of the time, unless you've packed a lot of drugs, guns or bombs... Your shitty knock-off Louis Vuitton luggage will be waiting for your pretentious ass in the baggage claim area, you don't need to carry it on so everyone can know you're a phoney. We get that by your matching handbag, wallet and cell phone case you're carrying on as well. Seriously, check that shit, no one is gonna steal it, everyone else can afford it as well, check it! Now, if your seat number is in the front of the plane, put your shit in the overhead compartment near or directly above your head. Don't put it way in the back. No one is going to let you walk back there once the plane is done taxiing back to the gate, we all want off the plane and are not allowing you to hold us up. Make it easy, check anything that doesn't fit under your seat so we don't have to spend an extra hour waiting for you!!!

Now, when the plane gets back to the gate and it's time to get off, GET THE FUCK OFF. You've already had at least 4 or 5 hours to stare at the seat in front of you and if you don't already know the person sitting next to you, now is not the time to introduce yourself. Way to waste all of that time buried in the Wall Street Journal jackass, we still aren't impressed that you can read and guaranteed my Playboy read was much more interesting anyway. Why didn't you say hello earlier? I really do not care to know you now, nor did I before or during the flight, but now just is not the time. Just get off the plane, I have to pee now.

Overkill, Overboard and Underwhelmed

2005-12-02T09:19:00.000-08:00

So, here I am, sitting in my office attempting to waste another 20 minutes writing down my thoughts as it seems no one else in my company is working anyway today. Apparently there was snow, I barely see it now, but it scared enough people into not coming in today, whatever. I’m just being irritated that I didn’t have the foresight to see how easily I could have claimed being fearful of driving on wet roads and staying home. Either way, I would still be working from there so all that changes is that I had to shower before noon and get dressed to come to work. Enough of that thought.

We got some snow, not real snow that stays around for days on end, but enough to look pretty for a few brief moments. I swear though, out here in Washington you’d think people are used to seeing precipitation fall from the sky, but no! Even when it rains here, folks feel the need to slow down and lose their minds on the road. Are there that many California transplants that have never seen snow or rain? I’m a transplant, but even I know that rain is not going to damage the clear coat over my paint if I drive the speed limit! There should be a test for competency and common sense when they allow anyone to drive a car, not just the legal test, but an actual common sense test that can determine if you’re smart enough to operate as a human being. And just think, they allow people to drive, drink coffee and talk on a cell phone all at the same time; I swear that should be illegal! If you are so afraid of the snow, then wait until its safe. Do you even know if it’s not safe to drive? If you don’t you have two choices:
1) Watch everyone else out driving, if they start slipping and sliding like bumper cars, it’s slick, stay home.
2) Go out and drive so other people can watch you and decide if it’s slick as you ram bumpers with other morons on the road, your choice.

Anyway, back to the topic. In my line of work, I’m responsible for keeping things running regardless of what Mother Nature, the phone company or a random act of stupidity does to slow us down. When there’s a chance that snow or hurricanes or a tornado will impact one of my centers, we plan and we plan and we plan to keep the ship a float so that it is seamless to the customer (Seamless, a great corporate word). We hold conference calls in order to plan and we talk about shit a lot. We have more documents about what to do “if”, then I care to ever explain. It’s quite fascinating at times. So, we got some snow here, nothing serious, although very pretty personally. I love how quiet the word becomes when it snows. Sometimes, even with all of the planning, it does require that you access the situation at hand, that may be mid-afternoon or the middle of the night. When those of us at my level in this company took our jobs, we knew once that our roles would have no normal operating hours and that as leaders; it would require a conversation at 2:30 or 3:30 in the morning, that’s just the way it is. Keep on trucking, eh!

This morning we had one of those times where it required national presence to discuss the underwhelming Washington weather issue and make adjustments as needed. 3:30 am comes and it’s time to make some determinations as to whether the weather will allow us to be open here or delay the opening or be “Business as Usual”. That’s just part of our jobs. I had a director from New Jersey ask me if I thought that pulling everyone together in the middle of the night was overkill. I nearly fell out of my bed laughing (YES, I do take conference calls from bed in my undies at that hour). I couldn’t believe I was being asked this question by someone on the East Coast, it was 6:30 am her time and knowing this lady, I know that all of her upkeep gets her started on her day much earlier than that, in order to be present physically by 9 or 10 EST. Again, common sense is missing in the business world as well these days. How can it be overkill to plan ahead in order to keep the business running smoothly? I was ashamed to have even heard her ask the question, although my lack of respect for her is no longer able to reach any lower. It was just sad

So there it is, my rumblings for today. I’m sure I’ll find something else to grumble about later.

With My Own Two Hands

Once again, it’s you

…And because of you, I’m me

If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be me…

With Clear Eyes and a Full Heart

God Willin’

Repost the Past

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

One Year has Past

Internet Tough Guys

Tinkered

State of being, a juxtaposition

Til Death…

It’s PDX, not P90X

I’m back, and better than ever

Transient Dream

Walking

This isn't a hotel

Tejas can really suck…

Chicken Little for Dinner

Le Cadeau

Disconnected Thinking

Ms. Dilemma, why you bother me?

Morning Drive

Une fleur willting dans l'obscurité du soleil

Au moins maintenant l'orage ne peut pas me souffler parti

5 Stages of something

Door to Door

Disarmed

Nothing...man

Lame Duck, not lame...Quack

Si l'aint de ciel aiment beaucoup les bois

Here I go again on my...

Les Bois, part deux

5, er 6 days, a trip and an opportunity *part 1*

Dookie

In Pieces

When...I said "when"

Help Somebody if you Can

Kinder Words

One Cold Night

Meet Virginia

Details in the Fabric

Dismantled and Disarmed

I need a spoon

It only gets hotter...

Keep rockin the 808

Wholeness is brokenness, owned

Speak Up now or forever hold your peace

Enough for now

A view from the sidelines

Le bonheur est juste en dehors de ma fenêtre

Lotion for face, Pomeade for Hair

Lundi sanglant, heure de sourire

Father Time

Cover Me

The To Do: list

Bleeding for a Dream

Take This

Mmmmk, it's Friday

Tuesday Train Ride

A week

The Cats out of the bag...

GFY

A Monday, dull shade of sad

Smile like you mean it

Falls Here, Cozy time

Welcome Back

A New Chapter for Life

37 Weeks

One Year has Past

My Friends

Lucky is as Lucky Does

Blind, Stoned or just plain Stupid?

Who Get's What in the End??

Sit the Hell Down Already

Overkill, Overboard and Underwhelmed

5, er 6 days, a trip and an opportunity part 1