distance

The distance between Raleigh, North Carolina, United States and Honolulu, Hawaii, United States is 4790 miles (7708 km).

i just want to sink to the bottom with you

“the ocean is big and blue,

i just want to sink to the bottom with you.”

I am currently without internet connection. That’s most likely a good thing. I have written 4 blogs this week and published none of them. I am breaking every rule I set for myself when I started this venture. I swore to myself that I would never write these in a way that they were meant to be read. I also swore that if I would sit down and write blogs as one stream of conscious thought. I would not edit them (save for a few spelling errors . . . and my grammar is always perfect anyway). I would always present these to you as they poured from me.

I feel the slight need to explain the first caveat, as of course these are written to be “read,” but there is a clear difference between sharing these thoughts and writing things that are contrived and feel practiced. I really don’t want to write these things and share these things with you as an exposure to “me” to what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, and maybe asking for a little help from time to time.

Each time I’ve written something this week, I found myself reading and re-reading every blog making sure it was polished, making sure it “felt” perfect, and making sure it wouldn’t hurt or offend anyone that may swing by and have a “look-see.”

Apparently I have some new readers, and some return readers. My biggest issue at the moment is one new reader in particular. Anyway. . .

I am learning that things change.

I am learning that things get more and more complicated.

I am learning that “I did know something I didn’t, but it wasn’t that.”

I am also learning that “your microwave sucks.”

NJ is a long way away, but Hawaii is even further.

Pretty much anywhere that isn’t right here is too far away for me. It always has been , and it will be for a long time.

Fayetteville sucks.

I’m so frustrated right now. I’m so tired of being moments behind where I want so badly to be. I mean moments.

New York scares the hell out of me.

New Jersey scares the hell out of me too.

Hawaii scares me even more.

How can I be frightened and scared and still desire?

I am exhausted. I promise I will post this.

Ω

remembering isn't everything

"There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone, and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still recall
Some and dead and some are living
In my life, I loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is none that compares to you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love, as something new
Though I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I love you more"

JL/PM


Sometimes, remembering things is the hardest part. There are so many odd things I remember. I remember conversations and I really remember things about she. Conversations that we had, and the one argument . .

My heart aches for she. My heart truly aches.

Ω

help?!?

"It's been a while, since I could hold my head up high
It's been a while since I first saw you.
It's been a while since I could stand on my own two feet again.
It's been a while since I could call you.
And every thing I can't remember,
As messed up as it all may seem,
and consequences that are rendered,
I've stretched myself beyond my means.

It's been a while since I can say I wasn't addicted
It's been a while since I can say I loved myself as well,
It's been a while since I've gone and messed things up just like I always do,
It's been a while, but all that sh*t seems to disappear when I'm with you . . .

. . .why I must I feel this way?
just make this go away,
just one more peaceful day . . .

. . . it's been a while since I could look at myself straight
it's been a while since I said I'm sorry
it's been a while since I've seen the way the candles light your face
it's been a while, but I can still remember just the way you taste."

She called tonight.

Awesome. My worst fears were confirmed. My heart aches for her.

If you pray, please pray for me and please pray for she.

Ω

Graduation

So, I thought I would post a few pictures from this past week's graduation.

The first picture is of my father, David placing my hood on me.








The second is of my mother and me after the ceremony.





















The third is of me in front of the Tom Folwell Memorial Fountain.

More to come at a later time. I'm exhausted.




If you click on the link of this blog's title, you can actually watch the whole ceremony. I am the 11th person to graduate. It's about an hour in.

I miss you guys,


Ω

"Remember your lesson . . ."

"'Say your lesson, Jake, son of Elmer, and be true.'
'I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand
has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye.
I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand
has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind.
I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has
forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart.'
'Kill these.'"

Can anyone actually name the book that's from? I would actually be impressed. Like actually impressed.

So "Kidders" gets here tomorrow morning, and I'm psyched! I can't wait. I'm almost as excited about kidders arrival as my graduation. I really miss the Kidd. I miss his wife Leah too, but I miss the Kidd more.

This is is a short one. Sorry to the faithful. I just loved that quote. I need a "lesson" like that.

I hope everyone is firggin' awesome.

And I'm out,

Ω

"On the dashes"

So I ran into an old buddy tonight. When I say "old buddy"I mean someone with whom I was once acquainted. I asked him how he was doing and he responded by saying he was, "just trying to live life on the dashes." I chuckled like I got it, and I didn't.

I thought about it for a few minutes and realized I had to know what he meant. I sought him out and asked, "What do you mean, 'on the dashes?'" He told me that it meant the dashes on his tombstone. Between his birth date and his death date. He was just trying to live, "on the dashes."

I was crushed. I wasn't crushed because I felt he had a defeatist attitude or because he was just "phoning it in." I was crushed because I knew exactly what he meant. I have mulled it over for hours now and I realize that I have a tenancy to live the very same way.

I'm reminding myself to step out, live it up. You only get to ride this roller coaster one time.

be good,

Ω

such is life

Tonight as I opened my copy of "A Christmas Story," I realized that the closing mechanism is near complete failure to the point of falling off. I can only assume it is from overuse. Aside from being one of the best movies of all time, it is one of two "Christmas" movies I watch at any given point throughout the year ("Eddie, I couldn't be any more surprised if I woke up with my head sewn to the carpet"). For some strange reason, it is very comforting to me to watch this movie in the middle of the summer (both of them actually).

I've made two posts in the past week (after taking more than MONTHS off) and your response has been overwhelming. I've had so many e-mails and comments (I only published one as the rest were kind of personal), and each one is very meaningful.

I must admit that I wrote again simply to get things off of my chest and I didn't really think you guys still checked this. It's flattering and it makes me sad to think I have done such a horrible job of keeping up with each of you.

A few updates: 1) Friday night, I will graduate from Campbell University with my Masters Degree in Business Administration (with concentrations in management and finance), 2) I still have the same job, but that's apt to change at any moment, and 3) I'm still single (thankfully).

I fear that I will fall into the trap of writing this so that it will be "read." While that is a good thing, I've spent my entire life shielding my soul from others using humor and sarcasm, and I need to be as open as possible. It's cathartic for me to get things off of my chest in this forum, and I need to keep that openness and honesty with myself . . . also with each of you.

J-Kidd is flying in from Pittsburgh on Friday, and Shaw was in this past weekend. That's all the Christmas presents I could ever ask for. Seeing these guys has been like water for a thirsty soul. It was wonderful to see Shaw and I can't wait to see Kidd. Truly.

I hate people who always insist on using "internet abbreviations." U kno the p33ps i'm talkin 'bout rit3? I felt the need to get that off my chest. If you're over 18, please stop typing like this and get a lif3, "I triple-dog-dare-ya!"

I went to church yesterday for the first time in months. MONTHS. I went to LIFE: The Changing Church. They meet in Crossroads 20 movie theater in Cary. The music was . . . well pretty ok. The guy who led worship was good. I know I'm really hard on musicians, and I should try to be a little more open, but man . . . when you're doing it for GOD, is it too much to ask that you practice?

The sermon was about being alone and it struck a lot of chords deep in my soul. One of the passages of scripture was,
"We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all."
I just sat there in awe. I have gone astray, and I need to get back.

"The reason why I stand/the answer lies in You/You hung to make me strong/though my praise was few/when I fall I bring Your name down/but I have found in You/a hear that bleeds forgiveness/replacing all these thoughts of painful memories/but I know You're response will always be/'I'll take you back'/'always'/'even when your fight is over'/'even when the pain is coming through'/'i'll take you back'

I can only speak with a grateful heart/as I'm pierced by the gift of Your love/I will always bring an offering/I can never thank You enough/You take me back/always."

I need this . . .

"You are my supply/my breath of life/still more awesome than I know/You are my reward/worth living for/still more than awesome than I know/All of You is more than enough for all of me/for every thirst and every need/You satisfy me/with Your love/all I have in You is more than enough."

I have to get back to basics. I simply must. If you pray for me, let that be your prayer. Please.

"I can't feel You like others around me/I don't feel like kneeling or closing my eyes/is there something wrong with my heart that I can't see?/Or do You feel love still when nobody cries?/So I'll praise You if I never feel You/and I'll love You 'cause I know You're there/and if You should choose/I'm sure I'll feel it/but feeling good is never the reason I cared./Father I praise You/because You are/Jesus I love You/because You are/Spirit I worship You/because You are/and if no one can see that Your love's moving me/I'll worship you still and forever will be/because You are."

"I keep singing skyward, it just never rains."

I miss you guys and gals. I love you all, and I'm thankful for your love for me.

because, He is,

Ω

"there's only four things running through my mind"

"How hard will it be if she is nice to me?
How bad will it get if I let her get to know me?
Should she see the willing dog or should I be the jungle cat?
And most of all my God, how does she make her eyes do that?

And I don't need another girl inside my head . . .

. . . I'm not the only one to write her letters.
That doesn't matter anyhow, the question isn't 'if,' but 'how?'

How hard will it be if she is nice to me?
How bad will it get if I let her get to know me?
Should she see the willing dog or should I be the jungle cat?
And most of all my God, how does she make her eyes do that?"

People shouldn't ever tell me things they don't want thrown back at them in times which they deem inappropriate for "them." I may have horrible ADD, and I may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but I'm not the dimmest and I have a memory like a steel trap. It's amazing the things that I remember. I remember what certain people were wearing on the day I met them (at least important people--or important to me), I remember what people drink, I remember how they order their food. Most importantly, I have a tenancy to remember what people say, and how they say it.

Telling me something like, "I'm going to fire that person," or, "we're just not compatible," and odds are, you're gonna hear it again. If you want to fire someone, and you tell me that, when I see them working for you months later, I'm gonna ask you something along the lines of, "Dude, when are you gonna fire that person?" If you tell me you aren't compatible with your significant other, and you're still dating them in a week/month/year, you're definitely going to hear about that one from me.

I had a very good friend once who told me, "I know this isn't the person God has for me. I can't see myself marrying him." Then, she proceeded to call a taxi while he slept and attempt to sneak out of the house (in Arizona) and go to the airport and fly back to Pittsburgh without any explanation. When she flew into Pittsburgh that night, they were apart, and it was, "the best decision" of her life. Now, years later, they're married. I've made a conscious decision not to speak to her ever again. I've done this because every time I see her, I see a liar. She either lied to me, lied to herself, or is lying to everyone (mainly her husband). See, I remember things.

Recently, I heard the comment, "he still isn't over his ex-, and we just aren't compatible." I'm pretty sure we also then later on in the week discussed the fact they are going out on a date tonight (Saturday night). Why say things like that and then go out with someone? Am I the last person on this planet with "balls?" Step up, be a man (or a wo-man) and take care of your business. Or, don't say shit like that. That's all I ask. Apparently, from the people I call my friends, I am asking too much. Therefore, I don't think I shall call them my friends any longer.

Is that wrong of me?

I didn't think so.

If you're reading this. Thank you.

Ω

i'm not really sure where to start with this

there isn't really much point in again apologizing for failing to write in this thing with any sort of regularity. there also isn't much point in saying that i'm going to get better at writing in this thing, because i'm not. i'm not going to get better at it at all. i don't have any direction with this post, and i don't have any idea if i'll gain any direction.
i'm frustrated.
i'm a little hurt.
i'm a dismayed.
i'm conflated.
i'm misunderstood.
i honestly have to wonder how it's humanly impossible to be this misunderstood. i hate being the nice person all the time. it's ridiculous.

i haven't been to church in months.
i haven't been playing my guitar.

i have the next two days off work and i'm excited about it. not being in that building makes me happy. i need a perminant vacation.

this time next week i will have graduated from campbell university with my masters degree in business administration.

check that one off the to-do list.

and i'm out.

Has it really been this long?

I don't even know where to begin. April 15th seems like eons ago. In fact, I suppose it is forever ago. I mean, since the 15th of April, I've watched almost the entire Rocky series (I have only the most recent to watch and if I'm not mistaken it will be arriving via mail tomorrow).
I suppose that today I am most compelled to write because I had my first really good cry in a long time. It all started when I got out of bed. . .
As usual, I woke up and flipped open my computer to check my e-mail. I received word that our classes' grades for Strategic Management had been posted. I suppose I should back up just a bit. . . When I started grad school (again) I had 2 simple requirements: 1) I had to take four classes (two required and two electives), and 2) I had to get 2 A's. My first two classes were both B's. I only had 2 classes left. Strategic management was tough. It was down-right hard. Tests were complicated and at times downright confusing. I wrote at least three pages a week (that were due weekly), and I had a major paper due at the end of the class which ended up being 36 single spaced pages.
After realizing that the grades were up, I nervously logged in to Campbell's web access. I swallowed hard as I selected the "grades by term" link and again clicked on "RAL MBA SUM I." My worst fears were confirmed: I had gotten a B.
As today was a class day anyway, I showered and got in my car to head to campus. I reeled the entire way to campus. I didn't know how I was going to tell my dad that I got a B (am I really disappointed with a B?). I was trying to figure out which class I would re-take so that I could get an A.
Dad and I had lunch and we talked about school. . .he stated everything that I expected him to: we would do whatever it takes to finish this MBA. I told him that I was going to go and talk to my professors and see how far I was from A's in my last classes. . .

More to come later. I'm exhausted.

Last request. . .

"don't sell out, or bow out,
remember how this used to be.
i just want you closer. is that all right?
grant my last request and just let me hold you.
don't shrug your shoulders, lay down beside me.
sure, i can accept that we're going nowhere,
but one last time, let's go there. . .
. . .grant my last request and just let me hold you."

It's been far too long since I've written. I know it's no excuse, but I have several blogs that i've written that were never "published" for one reason or another. Part of my issue is i've been in a rather self deprecating frame of mind lately, and anything that might have been published would have come off as such, and nobody wants to hear that crap. Least of all from me.

I've got to get back to writing here. It centers me. Truly. I've learned that if I write these posts to be "read," I write in a totally different form than if I just get things off of my chest. That isn't fair to me, and it certainly isn't fair to whomever has chosen to spend their time in my corner of the net. If you're taking the time to read this, it is "me" that you'll get. For better or worse, "me" is all I have to offer these days, and admittedly, that isn't much, but hell, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and dog-on-it, people like me."

I'm still single. I felt the need to just get that out. I appreciate all of the e-mails asking if i'm still single. It's wonderfully pleasant of each of you to remind me that I am completely incapable of keeping myself in a relationship with someone worth "keeping" for any amount of time. It is of course at this point that I will undoubtedly get comments or e-mails reminding me that were it not for one or two occasions, I haven't been in a relationship with someone worth "keeping" in the first place. While I'll never agree to that in such a public forum, I will say that at times I agree that your line of argument may indeed have merit, but I've learned from all of my past failures, and one day, all of that will pay off in ways I never imagined (at least that what i'm praying for nearly daily).

I've decided that i really want a pair of rainbow flip-flops (or thongs to the weird among us). I'm not entirely sure why I feel that prevalent to point out at this juncture, but I need to get that out.

Imus has been really eating at me lately. Well, not so much Imus, but the way he has been literally shat upon by the masses. Al Sharpton called Imus racist. Isn't that a bit like Bill Clinton trying to tell someone the merits of remaining monogamous in a relationship? I don't know. I wish that I could say I had watched any of the Women's NCAA tourney and could make my own accurate judgment as to whether or not any of the Rutgers University women were indeed, "nappy headed ho's." But alas, I am a man and deep in my genetic code, I am forbidden to watch any Women's sport that doesn't have "mud," "wrestling," or "nude" in the title. Without having seen the women in question, these facts/questions remain:
1. Imus is, after all is said and done, a 'shock jock.' Doesn't that tile, in it's very nature, imply the words coming out of his mouth are intended to shock us? Just checking.
2. Were this not said on a national stage, would anyone have cared?
3. Were this said by a black man, would anyone have cared?
4. Imus got thrown under the bus by a whole slew of people.
5. Al Sharpton is by far the biggest racist this planet has ever seen (including even Hitler. . .Sharpton just hasn't killed anyone yet. . .at least that we know of), the fact that he isn't considered one simply because he is black astounds me.
6. Any one of the 34 rap albums released in the first week of April of this year make Imus's comments sound like they came from the pages of an animated children's book. If you think I'm kidding, you should "Throw some d's on that bitch. . ."
7. How does Howard Stern still have a job if we are this picky?

That's all I have in me for the evening. Next installment, Duke Lacrosse. . .

If you're reading this, thank you. I miss you.

Ω

"Please do not create customer issue."
~Brooklyn


by the way, i'm down about 50 lbs.

lyrics

some lyrics that are moving me right now. . .

I never loved nobody fully.
Always one foot on the ground.
And by protecting my heart truly,
I got lost, in the sounds:

I hear in m mind
All of these voices
I hear in my mind
All of these words
I hear in my mind
All of this music
And it breaks my heart.

Suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we'd never fell in love,
Suppose I never ever let you,
Kiss me so sweet and soft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose you never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs,
just to break my own fall

All of my friends say that of course it's gonna get better. . .


. . .better


Excuse me but can i be you for a while?
my dog won't bite if you sit real still.
i've got the anti-christ in the kitchen yelling at me again
yeah i can hear it
been saved again by the garbage truck
i've got something to say, but nothing comes
yes i know what you think of me, you never shut up
i can year it.

sometimes i hear my voice, and it's been here. . .silent all these years


Suddenly, you're becoming a part of my past
you're becoming the part that won't last
I'm losing you
and it's effortless


I know it's been a month since i've posted and i am truly sorry. i will get better. again.

please keep the love coming. it's turned some dark nights of the soul in to sunny pittsburgh afternoons.

i love you guys (and gals). . .well, most of you anyway.

stupid people. . .

I can't help it. I really can't. I am thankful to have an above average I.Q. I am thankful to have exceptional schooling. I am thankful to be surrounded (for the most part) by people I consider to be highly intelligent. I am most thankful for those around me with much higher intelligence than my own (and I mean much higher. . .like Dr. White and Dr. Katie--their intelligence blows me away at times).

I like having long talks with intelligent people. I like reading what they have written (even if at times I don't really understand some of it. . .that refers to the few things I have read by Dr. White. . .hell I don't even understand the texts from which he's writing).

I don't have a problem with people that simply don't know better. Those people just can't help it. They wake up in the morning, and they simply don't know they are stupid, they get out of bed (maybe they put the right shoe on the left foot, but maybe not), and they go about their day.

Idiots on the other hand annoy me beyond belief. These are the people who know better, can help it, and simply don't. It is this category of individuals I find myself particularly upset with today.

A few days ago, while at work (so that is the first strike. . .) I was setting up the new Vista machines. We had placed all the laptops out the day prior so it was time to work on the desktops.

I had put three machines out (I was working my way from left to right) and was in the process of booting the fourth machine. The Windows Vista logo was prominent on the 22" wide-screen monitor and I felt a customer peering over my shoulder.

"Is that a Vista machine?" He asked me.

I looked back at him and then back at the screen to make sure "Vista" was still on the 22" screen.

"Yes," I replied biting my tongue.

"When are you going to start displaying them on the floor?" He asked.

I had to really stop and think. Was I still standing on the sales floor? Check. Was the computer on? Check. Was the Vista machine on and next to three other Vista machines? Check. Now, sarcasm was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't let myself say what I wanted to. I wanted to say something along the lines of, "Look moron, if you couldn't see that these machines are a) Vista machines and b) already on the damn sales floor, then you are clearly too stupid to own a computer in the first place, and you are clearly too stupid to even find your way home without a road-map and a GPS system."

I held my tongue. I continued setting up the machine, and I just let my blood boil.

Idiots shouldn't be allowed out of the house. Ever. They are the reason people go postal. Honestly. That's the reason. People are fine until one idiot wrecks their day, then suddenly they grab the closest weapon and wreck their entire environment.

Sorry, I'm ranting.

I got my first test back today in my first MBA class back. I got an A, and that makes me happy.

Down 21.2 lbs this year.

Good week.

Ω

Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you, you loved Mozart.
And you speak of your loved ones
as I clumsily strum my guitar.
Well excuse me, cause I've mistaken you for somebody else.
Somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself.
And these foolish games are tearing me apart.
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart...
You're breaking my heart.

the hook. . .

Maybe you're right
We've had a good time
I'll sit around, you get yourself a new life
Go get your spark
Go find your smile and get happy

I can't stop listening to Bowling for Soup. "Come Back to Texas" has one of the most amazing hooks I've heard in a long while. I don't know why I feel the need to create an entire blog to this song. . .but it's amazing.

By the way: Vista isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's pretty much garbage except for the boot up and shut-down times. That is a miracle. Less than 5 seconds each way.

Peace

Ω

any questions?!?

Questions.

We all ask them every day. Some are good questions, and some are better left un-asked. You know the kind I'm talking about:

"When is your baby due?"
"I'm not expecting!"
-----
"How is your wife?"
"We got a divorce."
-----
"How is your mother?"
"She passed away last year."
-----

Seemingly innocent questions can have absolutely damning responses. Your intent isn't to hurt someone (least of all yourself) but somehow your question pierces. Your words resonate in someone else's ears and it's suddenly all they can hear. Your words have brought about disdain to their ears, and likewise, their response, at least on some level, has caused you a certain amount of consternation.
Sometimes you can feel it. Sometimes, even before the question gets all the way out, you know it's a bad question. You can even feel the words floating off your tongue. You wish that they had mass. You wish you could reach up and grab them before they arrive inside the ears of the recipient. You know you can't, and that's a horrible feeling. You wince in anguish as does the person you're talking to.
Maybe you're good enough to play it off. In some cases, you are able to talk your way out of it. On rare occasion, I've been able to do that. On rare occasions, I've even been able to back out of it and have a seemingly decent conversation afterwards. Mostly though, I've simply relished at the flavor of my boot leather as I have tried to remove my foot from my oral cavity.
What about the other kind of question? What about the kind that you ask and you really don't want to know the answer to? I don't know what makes one ask that kind of question. You ask it anyway, and in much the same way as the previous type of question, you can see the words float off of your tongue, and you sincerely wish you hadn't asked the question. This time, however, there's a bigger problem than the embarrassment or temporary discomfort you face. This time, you wince because you know there's more coming. You know the next part is going to be even worse than the first. You know the answer is coming, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. You couldn't stop it if you wanted to, and you really want to. I've done it all my life really. . .
"Dr. Hsiao, what did I get on that test?" (the first time. . .not now)
"_____ are you really going to ask her to marry you?"
"This tastes funny. What's in this?"

Kevin Smith, in his Jersey Trilogy spent a significant amount of time depicting characters (in both Clerks and Chasing Amy) who had not only asked the question they didn't really want the answer to, but also labored over the answer. They labored over the answer so much that it consumed them. The answer didn't ruin relationships, but the character's inability to cope with the answer to the questions that they didn't really want to ask did ruin relationships.

"It's amazing what one can accomplish
when one doesn't know
what one can't do."

I'm a generally inquisitive individual. As people go, I would consider myself more inquisitive than the average individual. I've always liked to explore the unknown. I've always sought out answers to what seemed unanswerable questions. When I study, I tend to be obsessive compulsive about it. When I read a book, I find it hard to make it to the mid point of a book without "peeking" at the ending. In truth, that doesn't ruin the story. At the risk of sounding cliche, the means always interested me more than the end anyway. It's still that way today.
I've recently gotten in to the Alex Cross series of books by James Patterson. I started with the most recent book "CROSS" which has exposed many answers to the books prior (which I'm working on now), and those answers don't dissuade me from continuing my trek through the series. In fact, they only make me want to read them more.
That's the beauty of my inquisitive nature. Getting an answer isn't the end for me. Rather, it's usually little more than another beginning.

I digress. My point in writing this is more the questions we don't want the answers to. Why do we ask them? Dan is famous for the lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. He very often says whatever comes to mind. I love that about Dan. It's actually quite endearing. Most of us have come to expect it. In a room with Dan, keep your ears open, because it's coming sooner or later. My favorite part is, Dan knows when he does it. He knows the moment the words leave his lips that he's done it again. He gets this sheepish look on his face and his cheeks flush very slightly. He usually nods and says something to the effect of, "Yeah, I did it again."

Dan, I did it again too. I asked the question. I opened my mouth and let my tongue form the words I knew I didn't want to utter. I spoke them anyway. I regretted it almost immediately. I suppose that at least partly, I still do. A couple of hours have passed, and I can still feel my question hanging in the air. I wish there were some way I could simply reach up, wrap my fingers around them, pull them close, and save them for another time. A more appropriate time. I fear that the issue would perpetually exist: there would never be a more appropriate time. Somehow, that's strangely comforting. I am comforted to know that in the world of questions you don't want answers to, there is never an appropriate time to ask them. Not now, not ever.

Today, tomorrow, or two years from now, you still won't want the answer. In some way, shape, form, or fashion, you'll always be "Chasing Amy."

I hope you all are having a wonderfully silent moment. Ω

winter passing. . .

I suppose I could start out by making a half-hearted apology for failing to blog as often as I once hoped I could, and once swore I would, but it would be trite and contrived. It would sound that way too.

I was in Pittsburgh last weekend. It was wonderful. I have to say that I loved seeing J-Kidd and Leah as a couple. It dawned on me that it had been a while since I had seen that. I mean really seen that. I am so proud of the two of them and I am amazed by their endurance. There are times when you look at couples and you know that, "it's just right." This is clearly one of those times for me. Through all of the ups and downs I have always felt like they were so wonderful for each other. They both brought each other to different levels of "living." It was always so beautiful to see, and it is amazingly beautiful to see it again. It really makes me happy.

Maybe that's why I have found this past week so difficult. Maybe seeing Leah and Kidd so happy together and seeing Raffy enter a relationship with Alyssa (who saw that coming?!?) is what has made me so reflective so suddenly. I'm reflecting on her again. (Or on you if you happen to be stealing bandwidth and happen to be reading this--but I feel fairly safe in realizing you aren't doing either).

During Bible Study this week, we decided to just talk. We went around the room and talked about what was going on in each others' lives. I talked about her. I had been struggling with it since arriving back from Pittsburgh. I can't get her out of my mind.

I keep thinking about all the "what-ifs" in my life. She is hands down the biggest what-if I ponder. I had decided that I was going to be over it all. Through an entire week of absolute hell, I made up my mind that I wasn't going to deal with it any longer. I went to bed on Thursday night and actually kept myself up knowing that I wasn't going to hear from her ever again. I've tried my best to not call her (for the past couple of weeks I've managed to keep my self just busy enough to accomplish that Everest-esque feat). When I woke up on Friday morning, I felt like I was going to be ok with the whole situation. I felt like I might be able to move on. I felt like I had possibly given myself the permission I was seeking to move past the hurt. I felt like I might have gotten to the point where I could tell myself I wasn't in love anymore. I didn't love her any longer (no matter how untrue that statement happened to be).

The snow in my little globe had finally settled. I had grown accustomed to the chaos inside my head and finally realized that nobody was shaking my world any longer. In truth, it wasn't that the snow settled. The snow hadn't settled at all. I was so used to seeing the swirling snow that it became my normalcy. The snow just resumed it's normal agitated state. It started when she called. I was at work and my phone started vibrating in my waist. It isn't a new occurrence, and normally I don't even pay it much mind. This time was different. I pulled it off my waist to see her right foot (that's the picture that shows up when she calls).

My heart sped up and my mind began to race. The snow actually stopped. I could barely breathe. I couldn't even get the words "I'm going to have to call you later" out of my mouth. My mind raced. It's still racing.

We talked tonight. I am so not over this. I am so not over her.

Is the snow churning right now or has it stopped?

Am I losing my mind or am I becoming more sane by the second?

Who knows.

I certainly don't.

Ω

heaven is a lot like this. . .

So, I'm sitting in Sewickley, PA. It's 1:30 in the morning and I've got Shaw on my left, Dan on my right, Dugan to the left of Shaw, and Kidd laying in the floor. This is great.

I miss this place.

G

Happy New Year

"They say 3% of people use 5-6% of their brain,
97% use just 3% and the rest goes down the drain,
I'll never know which one I am,but I'll bet you my last dime,
99% think we're 3% 100% of the time!

They say 65% of all statistics are made up right there on the spot,
82.4% of the people believe them whether they're accurate statistics or not,
Now I don't know what you believe but I do know there's no doubt,
I need another double shot of something 90-proof,
I've got too much to think about!

Too much to think about,
too much to figure out
Stuck between HOPE and DOUBT,
It's too much to think about.

The average bank robber lives within say 20 miles of the bank he robs,
There's this little bank not so far from here I've been watching now for a while
Seems like lately all I can think about is how bad I want to go out in style.

Too much to think about,
too much to figure out
Stuck between HOPE and DOUBT,
It's too much to think about."

Statistician's Blues --Todd Snider

I'm not entirely sure where I'm headed with this one, so hang on tight, this ride may get a little bumpy. . .

Someone far more intelligent than I once said something to the effect of: "The longest distance a man will ever travel is the 18 inches between his head and his heart." (I wish I knew who to attribute that quote to, and if you know, please let me know immediately.) It seems I'm having trouble traveling that 18" these days. Lots of trouble.

My head is telling me I'll never see her again. My head tells me every single minute of every single hour of every single day that I will never see her again, never breathe the same air in the same room, never laugh out loud simultaneously during a movie that isn't even that funny. . . ever again. Apparently, my heart hasn't gotten the message. I don't know if the line is busy or if there is even a permanent disconnect. Man I hope there isn't a permanent disconnect.

Why is it so hard for me to convince one that the other is inherently wrong at this point? I should be able to convince myself of the truth (but which is the truth?). Will I see her again, or is my head correct?

I must change the subject before I scream. . .

Last night, I found myself sitting in a bar in Charlotte, NC full of belligerent incoherent drunks wishing like hell I was right there at that very moment (yes you read that correctly), but I wanted to swap out many of the attendees. . .and replace some of them with different people (mostly you if you're reading this). I was there with Raffy and Alissa (from Campbell), some of Alissa's friends from 'Jersey (Heather and Nicole to be exact--in order from left to right is Heather, Nicole, and Alissa).

There were certainly parts of yesterday evening that I wish were dramatically different, but at 1:30 a.m., I think my life changed. I was sitting on a bar stool fighting away the "sleep-ies," and the jukebox began playing a familiar tune. . .

"I have climbed the highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you. . ."

It occurred to me, that I, "still haven't found what I'm looking for." See? I told you it was going to be a bumpy ride. Hang on.

I sat there, on a bar stool, leaning over a warm beer that had been warm for almost an hour, looking at an unfinished tray of chicken wings, and trying to figure out how I had gotten "here." How on earth had I arrived at this point in my life? How had I let myself get to this point? How could I possibly have gotten to the point where I required so much humbling? Will I ever recognize the point that God is trying to push through my thick skull?

Looking back, I think my favorite moments of 2006 were the last 10 seconds of it. Standing there, with a ridiculous party hat on my head, a plastic glass of "Sparkling Wine" in one hand, and my other raised above my head in some sort of celebratory count-down maneuver, I watched the last 10 seconds of the worst year of my life fade away. . . 2006 became a part of my past and I can't tell you how happy I am to say that out loud. In one year I lost a job, lost a love, lost an apartment, lost my "way of life," and moved back in with my parents. 2006 treated me like a baby treats a diaper, and I am glad to see it gone. I'm glad to date all my checks with a new number at the end (not that I have any money to write checks with). I was glad to wake up today to a whole new beginning in a whole new year.

Even with the brand new year, the simple fact remains. . . "I still haven't found what I'm looking for." I haven't found it because I haven't looked like I'm supposed to. I have spent my life looking in all of the wrong places. I have spent my hours working towards goals that have no eternal hope. I have pursued things that will never last. I have tried time and time again to tell myself that I am centered on Christ. Am I?

I can't lie to you and say yes. I'm trying.

This year will be different. I'm not making any resolutions. I don't believe in them. I'm just making a commitment to myself.

"This year's love better last,
heaven knows it's high time,
I've been waiting on my own too long."

So help me God (and that's a prayer. . .), this year, I'm gonna find what I'm looking for. I'm gonna start, and finish in the right place.Ω