Where is Shaw when you need him?

Jon Shaw would disown me as a friend right now were he here. He would look at me, and would say little more than, “dude. . ,” and then he would walk away (most likely to never speak to me again). I’m listening to Hinder’s “Lips of an angel.”

I don’t know why I’m so attracted to this brand of rock from time to time. It isn’t that “good” (at least not by my normal musical standards). It’s catchy, and the hook is just deep enough to sell one hundred million copies to high-school girls and boys all over the free world, and for some reason, I just can’t get enough of the damn song.

It’s like Nickelback’s “Photograph.” It has the same feel, the same (general) lyrical sound. . .and it has lyrics about love lost. . .unrequited love. . .whatever you want to call it.

“It’s really good to hear your voice
Saying my name, it sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words, just makes me weak.”

Maybe I’m tired of missing people. Maybe I’m just sick of so many things changing. Maybe I just want some semblance of consistency in my life right now. Maybe it’s the fact that the writer of the song is comforted by things of the past, or maybe I just like bad music.

Jon Shaw would totally disown me.

Being home still feels like vacation. I don’t feel like this is where I live yet. I mean, I know it is where I live, but it doesn’t feel like it. I know that living in my mom’s home is only temporary, and maybe that’s why it feels like such a “vacation” but I’m ready to have my own bed again. I’m ready to be among my own things. Maybe that’s just the selfish part of me.

_________

The Carolina Hurricanes are the defending Stanley Cup champions, and nobody in this town cares. I love it. That is so funny to me. This town doesn’t even really understand hockey, and they are the home of the defending champs. That must piss people from Canadia (spelling is intentional) off. . .but not nearly as much as me calling it Canadia (but that’s okay because Canadia is only good at one thing. . .and that’s leading the world at being just north of the U.S.A.).

I want to go see the Penguins play. I don’t think they’ll stand a prayer against Carolina (although apparently Carolina has taken the Florida Marlin’s approach to winning a championship: win the title and sell all the players who brought you there), but I’ll still want to see them play none-the-less.
I miss people in the “’burgh.” I hope they miss me.

Jon Shaw would totally disown me.

Leaving is a strange thing. . .

Leaving is a strange thing. It’s even a strange word. Say it to yourself. Say it out loud several times. It’s kind of like “elbow.”

I have less than a week left in the greater Pittsburgh area. I am going on my seventh year here. I have had some wonderful “ups” and “downs,” and I hope my time here was very well spent, but there are times when I have my doubts.

My friends here will be the hardest thing to leave. The friends here have become like family. They’ve cared for me as one of their own, like a family member. They’ve invited me into their homes, fed me, clothed me, and loved me. They’ve truly loved me.

I can’t explain what it’s like to really be loved. To be loved with your baggage, and in some instances loved for your baggage.

Do you really know what it’s like to be loved? Seriously loved. Not just “kind of” loved, but loved all the way around. Loved when you’re at your best, but also truly loved when you’re at your worst.

I know I do. Thank you all. Thank you men of the CLC (and their wives and children), thank you clan LeCornu, thank you CCGF family, thank you so have i, thank you Kidd, thank you Shaw, Bo, Shaw Jr., (actually the entire poker clan), thank you to everyone I have forgotten. . . put your name here _______________________, because I couldn’t have made it without you.