My sixth journey into The McKittrick Hotel provided me with a treat that I will never forget. I was in a dark forest maze following two nurses closely. One nurse darted off into a window without glass that led into a room of The St. James Sanatorium filled with bathtubs. The other nurse watched between the forest branches along with me as the other nurse contorted her body and, at one point, flipped upside down inside the window frame. Next to us stood a stuffed yak and a deteriorating and chained iron gate (this was a reference to the gate blocking the Manderlay castle as told in the intro to Hitchcock's 'Rebecca'). It was a mesmerizing little scene to watch but, in a flash, the nurse standing next to me started sprinting through the forest as the music became louder and more intense. The music, the eery lighting, and the sight of the nurse dodging the dead tree branches everywhere as I ran after her like a ghost behind my white mask must have looked like a scene out of a dark movie. I kept up the chase at almost a full sprint while darting through the forest maze trying not to allow a wayward branch to take my head off until I saw her standing still on the raised doorstep of a small rundown hut. She beckoned to me as I stood in the trees staring at her. So, along with my racing heart, I slowly walked up the stairs and entered her lair.
She immediately closed the door and the window. I looked around this very small and intimate setting from behind my white mask and saw oddly shaped cuttings of pages from books hanging all over the walls and ceilings. The nurse then got very close to me and stared deeply into my eyes. I heard the sound of thunder outside the hut. It startled me and the nurse took a step closer to me never once breaking eye contact nor did I notice her blink. She removed my mask which left me feeling naked and victim to the emotion and intensity behind her eyes. She then started preparing me hot tea after motioning to me to take a seat on a small chair across from a rocking chair. She handed me the saucer and tea cup and, while I held it wide-eyed, she spoon fed me the tea for about 4 solid minutes and, again, her intense eyes never moved from looking deeply into mine as she slowly spooned the tea into my mouth over and over. Already vulnerable without my mask, I felt like a sick and wounded soul she was caring for with each spoonful of tea that slide down my throat and with every single second her amazing eyes looked through me.
She then folded a napkin and put it on my lap and motioned for me to allow the saucer to remain their on my lap. My hands were noticeably trembling as the psychology of the scene along with her gaze played through my spirit. She noticed my trembling hands and grabbed onto one of them and held it tightly between her two hands. She then leaned ever so close to my face (no more than a foot) and told me this story:
“Once upon a time, there was a poor child,
With no father and no mother,
And everything was dead,
And no one was left in the whole world.
Everything was dead.
And the child went and searched day and night,
And since nobody was left on the earth,
He wanted to go up in to the heavens,
And the moon was looking at him so friendly,
And when he finally got to the moon,
The moon was a piece of rotten wood.
And then he went to the sun,
And when he got there,
The sun was a wilted sunflower.
And when he got to the stars,
They were little golden flies, stuck up there like the shrike sticks among the black thorn.
And when he wanted to go back down to Earth,
The Earth was an overturned piss-pot, And he was all alone.
And he sat down and he cried.
And he is there to this day.
All alone.”
As she told me this sad story, she never blinked. Teardrops fell out of her eyes twice as she whispered the story to me and held my hand tightly..warmly. I had thoughts of loneliness, abandonment, and even my own little boy. The pain communicated with her eyes and with her tears falling caused my chin to start wobbling uncontrollably as I became overwhelmed with emotion. I never made a sound but my eyes and trembling hands could not lie in regards to the intense effect her gaze, her story, and the moment in general was having on me. She finished her story and kissed me ever so lightly to further put me at ease.
In a moment's notice she was then overcome by a force of some sort which had her slowly stretching her body out in the rocking chair. Music slightly off in the distance became louder. The sound of thunder became louder. Then complete silence fell upon us. She slowly got out of her chair, stood me up, and very slowly put my mask on as she gazed deeper still into my eyes. She then put her lips so very close to my ear that I could feel them. She whispered to me, "Blood Will Have Blood, They Say..." She opened the door and I, in a completely bewildered state, walked down the stairs of the small hut and made my way back into the forest forever changed.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
My super-fantastic loss of my virginity story!
I have the f*cking best losing virginity story known to man. I promise. It doesn't involve watching the sun rise over the dashboard of a Honda Civic while hungover and in the arms of your awesome sauce teen lover. Ohh, the people that know me well know my story and it's actually funny and twistedly romantic enough to base a movie upon and I swear to dog that none of this was planned or expected ;)
I lost my virginity on the beach in Santa Barbara, CA. Santa Barbara is one of the most gorgeous places in America rivaling even Hawaii and Key West. However, Santa Barbara isn't an island so, to me, as far as the lower 48 states go, Santa Barbara is a special place of amazing and unmatched in its class as far as natural and even unnatural beauty goes (a quaint little town near the beach that maintain a sense of small town charm). In short, its one of the most charming towns in the lower 48 that I've experienced and was the most gorgeous town I'd ever seen at the ripe age of 17.
So, on St. Patrick's Day in 1993, I got lucky on a lucky day. Yup, March 17th, 1993. I lost my virginity on the 17th when I was 17! That's enough of a memory, right there, to set it apart.
During the act of sweet teenage love and lust, a maintenance man started pounding on the door and then opened the eff'ing door to our love shack in the middle of sweet, sweet, and confusing "WTF is going on" coitus (yes, I used that word 'coitus' to entertain you). The "love shack" I speak of was her HUGE muscle bound Father's corporate economy apt given to him to conduct business for a matter of months. It was, literally, steps from the main Santa Barbara beach and we *cough* I took advantage of every wonderful opportunity it had to offer.
After the extreme banging on the door, my sweet and supple teen lover flew off me into the shower thinking it was her Dad that would simply kill me, drown me in the Pacific Ocean, and then slap the sex right off her face with his massive man hand to teach her a lesson in how not to be a harlot to a charming but ginger decorated Casanova. I, literally, scrambled to put my clothes on and failed miserably. I put my shirt on backwards and turned the TV on to "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" (f*cking awesome movie that further illustrates the awesomeness of the moment) just to look like I was doing nothing but waking up to a campy movie while my fair maiden showered and primped for the day out and about within one of the most beautiful places in America. Meanwhile, inside, I was thinking I was a dead man or, at the very least, a crippled for life man.
The damn maintenance man opened the door with his master key while I sat on the couch in my backwards shirt and my lovely fair teen maiden was in the bathroom showering off her shame. Maintenance big "O" blocker quickly cleared the f*cking clogged sink drain in 25 secs. Ugh.
I still expected the person banging on the door yelling "maintenance" to be her Father of Harley riding doom. I assure you that he did, in fact, come off as such a person.
That early evening, when he got home from work, he took me on a ride on his massive Harley down the Pacific Coast Highway mere hours after I had first gotten laid by his daughter. Many moments I will never forget took place in such a short period of time. This moment was a majestic manly motorcycle Zen moment at sunset spent with the Father of whose daughter's sweet, sweet, succulent and perfect 17 yr old flesh I had "violated" just hours before. In all honesty, we both had lust or love or whatever (they both get quite confused during these times of youth / uncertainty) during the act so I wasn't "violating" a thing. This was all chock full of young love and a sweet but oddly high-larry-ass experience I'll never ever forget. It happened all as it should have. Everyone I've ever known has told me how horrible and awkward their lost virginity experience was. Mine was awkward only in a funny way when a mutha' f*ckin maintenance man burst into the room to fix a damn clogged sink disposal. After it all, she said to me, "Wow, we are soooooo lucky that wasn't my Dad." Then she said, "Man, that felt really really nice with you in my arms and I regret none of it as us both experiencing this as our first. We need to do it again and we need to do it again soon!" Ahh, young love! Confusion, awkwardness, fun, education, and laughter shared between two people with little to no cares in the world. I strive to bring that kind of fun into each and every new relationship I embark upon. Life is too short, even in your 30's, to not treat someone you are interested in as that young, fun, lusty ass, awesome sauce person you'll hopefully be able to have many laughs and feel love towards.
I lost my virginity on the beach in Santa Barbara, CA. Santa Barbara is one of the most gorgeous places in America rivaling even Hawaii and Key West. However, Santa Barbara isn't an island so, to me, as far as the lower 48 states go, Santa Barbara is a special place of amazing and unmatched in its class as far as natural and even unnatural beauty goes (a quaint little town near the beach that maintain a sense of small town charm). In short, its one of the most charming towns in the lower 48 that I've experienced and was the most gorgeous town I'd ever seen at the ripe age of 17.
So, on St. Patrick's Day in 1993, I got lucky on a lucky day. Yup, March 17th, 1993. I lost my virginity on the 17th when I was 17! That's enough of a memory, right there, to set it apart.
During the act of sweet teenage love and lust, a maintenance man started pounding on the door and then opened the eff'ing door to our love shack in the middle of sweet, sweet, and confusing "WTF is going on" coitus (yes, I used that word 'coitus' to entertain you). The "love shack" I speak of was her HUGE muscle bound Father's corporate economy apt given to him to conduct business for a matter of months. It was, literally, steps from the main Santa Barbara beach and we *cough* I took advantage of every wonderful opportunity it had to offer.
After the extreme banging on the door, my sweet and supple teen lover flew off me into the shower thinking it was her Dad that would simply kill me, drown me in the Pacific Ocean, and then slap the sex right off her face with his massive man hand to teach her a lesson in how not to be a harlot to a charming but ginger decorated Casanova. I, literally, scrambled to put my clothes on and failed miserably. I put my shirt on backwards and turned the TV on to "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" (f*cking awesome movie that further illustrates the awesomeness of the moment) just to look like I was doing nothing but waking up to a campy movie while my fair maiden showered and primped for the day out and about within one of the most beautiful places in America. Meanwhile, inside, I was thinking I was a dead man or, at the very least, a crippled for life man.
The damn maintenance man opened the door with his master key while I sat on the couch in my backwards shirt and my lovely fair teen maiden was in the bathroom showering off her shame. Maintenance big "O" blocker quickly cleared the f*cking clogged sink drain in 25 secs. Ugh.
I still expected the person banging on the door yelling "maintenance" to be her Father of Harley riding doom. I assure you that he did, in fact, come off as such a person.
That early evening, when he got home from work, he took me on a ride on his massive Harley down the Pacific Coast Highway mere hours after I had first gotten laid by his daughter. Many moments I will never forget took place in such a short period of time. This moment was a majestic manly motorcycle Zen moment at sunset spent with the Father of whose daughter's sweet, sweet, succulent and perfect 17 yr old flesh I had "violated" just hours before. In all honesty, we both had lust or love or whatever (they both get quite confused during these times of youth / uncertainty) during the act so I wasn't "violating" a thing. This was all chock full of young love and a sweet but oddly high-larry-ass experience I'll never ever forget. It happened all as it should have. Everyone I've ever known has told me how horrible and awkward their lost virginity experience was. Mine was awkward only in a funny way when a mutha' f*ckin maintenance man burst into the room to fix a damn clogged sink disposal. After it all, she said to me, "Wow, we are soooooo lucky that wasn't my Dad." Then she said, "Man, that felt really really nice with you in my arms and I regret none of it as us both experiencing this as our first. We need to do it again and we need to do it again soon!" Ahh, young love! Confusion, awkwardness, fun, education, and laughter shared between two people with little to no cares in the world. I strive to bring that kind of fun into each and every new relationship I embark upon. Life is too short, even in your 30's, to not treat someone you are interested in as that young, fun, lusty ass, awesome sauce person you'll hopefully be able to have many laughs and feel love towards.
Home School, New Skewls, New Souls, Old Souls, Old Skewls. Think outside the "Murica" bun...
Rough - Unedited....taken from an informal FB post that I didn't make so people wouldn't jump down my throat for my massive posts to that stupid ass brain numbing social site. The point here? Excuse my lack of proper grammar in some spots as this was meant to be pooped out on a FB wall where I expected no one to read it. Few may read it here but it will be here for myself or others important in my life to reflect upon down the road. Making a journal of your life is important and writing is a tool that gets that done. I also have a massive audio journal of a lot of my adventures so the written word isn't the only way to experience a slice of cathartic cleansing.
This writing was made in response to my fear felt after enrolling my Son for his first year of actual school. I feared of no longer being able to whisk him away on an airplane at a moment's notice as I've done so many times since he was 3.75 ys old and someone suggested that I or his Mom home school him to which I had this long-winded response.
I'm no professional in education and his Mom is too busy building her business so home school'ing is not an option. Ya know, I have NO issue waltz'ing into that damn school and telling them that "Aunt Ida" is dying in Detroit and he needs to be gone for 8 days. Not like he's going to miss trigonometry and he will learn more traveling the world with me than stuck sitting in a Texas classroom. The most disservice put upon American children and the American population, as a whole, these days is the odd dissuasion to travel and experiencing other cultures. I've met many young people from boxed in cultures / countries such as AU and New Zealand and part of their education is months to a solid year off to travel / travel as much of the world as possible. It's literally part of your expected "higher education." When I was in Sydney, AU, there were student travel agencies every 5th store front where I was staying newar the Central rail and bus depot adverting cheap trips everywhere around the world. I happened to be staying in near the main university in Sydney and I, instantly, was able to put the pieces together after meeting a young New Zealand born bloke shortly before my "down under" experience. People from AU and NZ get stir crazy living on those isolated islands. Yes, AU is a HUGE land but the towns are isolated and concentrated around the coast making it this microcosm, in a way, shut off thus giving each town it's own country type of feel. It's hard to explain.
The Uncle of a friend I was staying with on The Sunshine Coast near Brisbane (after my stint in Sydney) sat down with me one night and told me of his tales of backpacking around the world with no particular location(s) other than to travel as far and to as many different places as possible. He was shocked to arrive in Houston, TX one night at the bus station (which is the worst and scariest place in Houston to land) expecting an easy place to pitch his tent on his backpack in some park to shelter his young self for the night. He asked the bus driver where a good place nearby to do that would be and the driver laughed at him saying he'd get killed or all his shit would be stolen. I think he ended up at the Y or some shit but the point here is that American culture is eff'ed in the A. Our young people aren't taught to explore at a young age and our culture breeds people meant to think "Murica is THE BEST" so why go anywhere else? If you do actually go somewhere else and travel a bit, American's become complacent and continue to return to that place OVER AND OVER AND OVER without wanting to spread their wings further let alone take a chance on something different. It drives me crazy. Xenophobia runs rampant in this country.
The higher education system in this country doesn't help matters by putting young people in horrid debt from stage one thus strapping them to a damn desk like a button pushing monkey until they are too damn old to care, have started a family, or other responsibilities that, on top of loan payments, prevent them from taking saaay a year, to travel as a young adult. This not only teaches them that "Murica" is far from the best but teaches them independence, utter confidence, and the fact that the world is out there for them to explore and many corners of it may be perfectly suited for them to live in and even start a family in one day. Only 30-35% of Americans own a passport while I consider it as important as a bank card. Xenophobia is far from sexy as it only puts a bulls eye on your back with the giant "I'm ignorant" label. The first time I crossed the ocean at the tail end of 2000. I was young and, I left the country for 2 weeks to hole up in a flat in London. I was poor (still in college debt), following a lovely lady in whom I was in lust / in some sorta love, and was thrust into a world of possibilities. A cheap bus pass and a metro ticket was all I needed along with a sense of adventure. The most challenging thing throughout the trip, other than being tasked with cooking the Xmas turkey for the young people whom had me in their flat, was finding a restaurant with food that didn't seem awkward to me. I dunno why but it just seemed scary walking into any old joint looking for food when every penny I had was sacred...I failed at most choices and had awful meals and found myself pissed off at "their food." I went to the market to get a turkey expecting a ButterBall wrapped turkey to be in freezer case with one of those plastic pop'up "I'm done you stupid ass American" rods shoved into it's chicken tit. No such thing. I found a 7-11 sized store with a bird and feathers hanging on the wall and was asked which one I wanted. I pointed to one and the butcher asked me if I wanted the clawed feet on or off. I said, "uhhhh, OFF!" He slapped that bird down, plucked some feathers off it, and I, in horror, watched as he took a massive meat cleaver and whacked the bird's feet and head off in front of me. The separate parts were bagged and thrown into a small plastic grocery bag that we, in America, get 20 of for our $40 in groceries off. I went back to the flat, and used some print outs from the net of how to cook a turkey, plucked the rest of the feathers and prepp'ed this THING for the oven half the size of my microwave at home. I lovingly did all I could to this bird using a basic recipe of butter and herbs before throwing it into an oven in which the temp control handle had no numbers left on it having been worn off. I watched that damn turkey for hours, in between make out session on the couch with the girl I traveled their to and whose Sister's flat I was staying at, to make sure we didn't end up with a flaming ball of dirt for Xmas dinner. Well, everything worked out fine, quite damn tasty, and I was sincerely thanked for paying for and putting much love into the meal that came out of the kitchen and into the girl whom had my heart. It was my thank you for the 2 week accommodation I was provided in an expensive town far from my own. In the end, I didn't like London. I hated the place and never found love for the place as I found it dirty, over-priced, and chock full of crap ass weather. However, that trip and the VALUABLE education simmered in me for a long time as I was no tourist on my first trip overseas. I actually lived in that city just as anyone would for over two weeks. I even stood on a bridge over the River Thames whacked out of my mind on absinthe with a lovely young girl in my arms and watched Big Ben sound off Midnight thus thrusting us into the year 2001. I learned that even one of the largest "center of the Earth" type cities on Earth was an alien like place akin to Mars to my suburban raised, in a Single Mom household (worth noting as no one was around to wipe my ass or do my laundry growing up...my hand was never held and I was always forced to be independent), ass. I was sheltered during my young years but left the house when I was 17 and never once looked back for support. My sense of independence trickled down into world travels and experiences far exceeding the education provided to me by "the system." In summation, I will work hard in this life to raise my Son to want to travel and realize that America isn't the only place on Earth and to make decisions in his life that make him want to break free of any bonds that tie him to any sort of microcosm of "perceived comfort and security." He's already been out of the country and in many places in our country (coast to coast in a 3 week period) all at the age of 4 so he's got a good start. He shows a good deal of fearlessness and is insanely well-socialized around both adults and kids. He's never shy around anyone and is eager to share things he's thinking with all whom he encounters. Last, he not easily impressed as he's learned and seen so much in this world already and I think that's a good start. He has old soul eyes just like his Dad and I think he will do just fine making many of the same dumb ass mistakes I have made but more of the good ones I did make. Most importantly, he will have a good soul and good heart. A sense of compassion is seen in him. No matter what he learns. A good soul and good heart are a start. He will always be surrounded by love and told that he is loved. I was raised that way and it has made all the differences. Hug a kid today. Hug someone today. Tell them you love them or, at least, value them and that there is a wonderful world out there for them to experience. Tell them to go and experience it, be happy, learn, laugh, and share it all. Don't waste your time here being ignorant or trying to be "normal" because, if there's one damn thing I know, I'll never ever figure out what "normal" is and I really don't want to.
This writing was made in response to my fear felt after enrolling my Son for his first year of actual school. I feared of no longer being able to whisk him away on an airplane at a moment's notice as I've done so many times since he was 3.75 ys old and someone suggested that I or his Mom home school him to which I had this long-winded response.
I'm no professional in education and his Mom is too busy building her business so home school'ing is not an option. Ya know, I have NO issue waltz'ing into that damn school and telling them that "Aunt Ida" is dying in Detroit and he needs to be gone for 8 days. Not like he's going to miss trigonometry and he will learn more traveling the world with me than stuck sitting in a Texas classroom. The most disservice put upon American children and the American population, as a whole, these days is the odd dissuasion to travel and experiencing other cultures. I've met many young people from boxed in cultures / countries such as AU and New Zealand and part of their education is months to a solid year off to travel / travel as much of the world as possible. It's literally part of your expected "higher education." When I was in Sydney, AU, there were student travel agencies every 5th store front where I was staying newar the Central rail and bus depot adverting cheap trips everywhere around the world. I happened to be staying in near the main university in Sydney and I, instantly, was able to put the pieces together after meeting a young New Zealand born bloke shortly before my "down under" experience. People from AU and NZ get stir crazy living on those isolated islands. Yes, AU is a HUGE land but the towns are isolated and concentrated around the coast making it this microcosm, in a way, shut off thus giving each town it's own country type of feel. It's hard to explain.
The Uncle of a friend I was staying with on The Sunshine Coast near Brisbane (after my stint in Sydney) sat down with me one night and told me of his tales of backpacking around the world with no particular location(s) other than to travel as far and to as many different places as possible. He was shocked to arrive in Houston, TX one night at the bus station (which is the worst and scariest place in Houston to land) expecting an easy place to pitch his tent on his backpack in some park to shelter his young self for the night. He asked the bus driver where a good place nearby to do that would be and the driver laughed at him saying he'd get killed or all his shit would be stolen. I think he ended up at the Y or some shit but the point here is that American culture is eff'ed in the A. Our young people aren't taught to explore at a young age and our culture breeds people meant to think "Murica is THE BEST" so why go anywhere else? If you do actually go somewhere else and travel a bit, American's become complacent and continue to return to that place OVER AND OVER AND OVER without wanting to spread their wings further let alone take a chance on something different. It drives me crazy. Xenophobia runs rampant in this country.
The higher education system in this country doesn't help matters by putting young people in horrid debt from stage one thus strapping them to a damn desk like a button pushing monkey until they are too damn old to care, have started a family, or other responsibilities that, on top of loan payments, prevent them from taking saaay a year, to travel as a young adult. This not only teaches them that "Murica" is far from the best but teaches them independence, utter confidence, and the fact that the world is out there for them to explore and many corners of it may be perfectly suited for them to live in and even start a family in one day. Only 30-35% of Americans own a passport while I consider it as important as a bank card. Xenophobia is far from sexy as it only puts a bulls eye on your back with the giant "I'm ignorant" label. The first time I crossed the ocean at the tail end of 2000. I was young and, I left the country for 2 weeks to hole up in a flat in London. I was poor (still in college debt), following a lovely lady in whom I was in lust / in some sorta love, and was thrust into a world of possibilities. A cheap bus pass and a metro ticket was all I needed along with a sense of adventure. The most challenging thing throughout the trip, other than being tasked with cooking the Xmas turkey for the young people whom had me in their flat, was finding a restaurant with food that didn't seem awkward to me. I dunno why but it just seemed scary walking into any old joint looking for food when every penny I had was sacred...I failed at most choices and had awful meals and found myself pissed off at "their food." I went to the market to get a turkey expecting a ButterBall wrapped turkey to be in freezer case with one of those plastic pop'up "I'm done you stupid ass American" rods shoved into it's chicken tit. No such thing. I found a 7-11 sized store with a bird and feathers hanging on the wall and was asked which one I wanted. I pointed to one and the butcher asked me if I wanted the clawed feet on or off. I said, "uhhhh, OFF!" He slapped that bird down, plucked some feathers off it, and I, in horror, watched as he took a massive meat cleaver and whacked the bird's feet and head off in front of me. The separate parts were bagged and thrown into a small plastic grocery bag that we, in America, get 20 of for our $40 in groceries off. I went back to the flat, and used some print outs from the net of how to cook a turkey, plucked the rest of the feathers and prepp'ed this THING for the oven half the size of my microwave at home. I lovingly did all I could to this bird using a basic recipe of butter and herbs before throwing it into an oven in which the temp control handle had no numbers left on it having been worn off. I watched that damn turkey for hours, in between make out session on the couch with the girl I traveled their to and whose Sister's flat I was staying at, to make sure we didn't end up with a flaming ball of dirt for Xmas dinner. Well, everything worked out fine, quite damn tasty, and I was sincerely thanked for paying for and putting much love into the meal that came out of the kitchen and into the girl whom had my heart. It was my thank you for the 2 week accommodation I was provided in an expensive town far from my own. In the end, I didn't like London. I hated the place and never found love for the place as I found it dirty, over-priced, and chock full of crap ass weather. However, that trip and the VALUABLE education simmered in me for a long time as I was no tourist on my first trip overseas. I actually lived in that city just as anyone would for over two weeks. I even stood on a bridge over the River Thames whacked out of my mind on absinthe with a lovely young girl in my arms and watched Big Ben sound off Midnight thus thrusting us into the year 2001. I learned that even one of the largest "center of the Earth" type cities on Earth was an alien like place akin to Mars to my suburban raised, in a Single Mom household (worth noting as no one was around to wipe my ass or do my laundry growing up...my hand was never held and I was always forced to be independent), ass. I was sheltered during my young years but left the house when I was 17 and never once looked back for support. My sense of independence trickled down into world travels and experiences far exceeding the education provided to me by "the system." In summation, I will work hard in this life to raise my Son to want to travel and realize that America isn't the only place on Earth and to make decisions in his life that make him want to break free of any bonds that tie him to any sort of microcosm of "perceived comfort and security." He's already been out of the country and in many places in our country (coast to coast in a 3 week period) all at the age of 4 so he's got a good start. He shows a good deal of fearlessness and is insanely well-socialized around both adults and kids. He's never shy around anyone and is eager to share things he's thinking with all whom he encounters. Last, he not easily impressed as he's learned and seen so much in this world already and I think that's a good start. He has old soul eyes just like his Dad and I think he will do just fine making many of the same dumb ass mistakes I have made but more of the good ones I did make. Most importantly, he will have a good soul and good heart. A sense of compassion is seen in him. No matter what he learns. A good soul and good heart are a start. He will always be surrounded by love and told that he is loved. I was raised that way and it has made all the differences. Hug a kid today. Hug someone today. Tell them you love them or, at least, value them and that there is a wonderful world out there for them to experience. Tell them to go and experience it, be happy, learn, laugh, and share it all. Don't waste your time here being ignorant or trying to be "normal" because, if there's one damn thing I know, I'll never ever figure out what "normal" is and I really don't want to.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
What my Son means to me...
I wrote this Dec 12, 2012 as I struggled to find the meaning behind being a Father and what my son means to me...
Monday, June 3, 2013
Mystic Manor / Mystic Point - Hong Kong Disneyland - Reflection
Experienced the attraction a week after opening 10+ times. The best storyline build from entrance, thru the queue, and pre-show of any Disney attraction on Earth, a solid original storyline tie-in with SEA (Society of Explorers and Adventurers) started at Tokyo Disney*SEA* and Harrison Hightower, one of the top musical scores of any Disney attraction by Danny Elfman, an amazing ride system which rivals TDL's Pooh's Hunny Hunt and one-ups it given that the carriages can twist on the base while being GPS driven on a trackless system, superb special effects and AA scenes, a restaurant next door that continues the storyline of SEA and nods to the defunct Adventurers club from WDW, and it never has a line (typical of HKDL it was a 5 to 20 min wait with no FP offered). There were some RIDICULOUS budget cuts made that reared their ugly head in many instances in the ride and in the land. The worst offense being a fully functional built-out train depot at Mystic Point next to the train track that does not load passengers because the train cars face the wrong direction (TOTAL FAIL - They should have moved the station or put in a tunnel). Overall, it's a crown jewel in the Disney attraction lineup only inline with 3 other attractions being Radiator Springs Racers (DCA), Pooh's Hunny Hunt (TDL), and Grizzly Gulch Runaway Mine Cars (also in HKDL - same ride system and cars as Everest but 4 times better with 3 full AA scenes and 3 faster track switches to EE's one slow one - and the AA's actually work). HKDL has finally posted a profit this year and is now a park to contend with and worth visiting. Hong Kong is one of the most dynamic and gorgeous cities on Earth, is insanely SIMPLE to navigate as English is spoken just as much as Chinese and given their superb transportation infrastructure, and should be on your must-do list as a true Disney park fan. This was my 3rd trip to Hong Kong and was glad to have experienced Mystic Point in all it's glory. It's still an attraction begging to be properly plus'ed in 5 years time once the park grows into it's own. Again, they really cut some corners inside the attraction and left a ton of room for improvement down the road once the money starts rolling in. Heck, HKDL has room for a DTD, and a second gate. This will all happen...just a matter of time.
Fun Photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8802777102/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8802737382/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8798939879/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934311905/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934318235/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934951632/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934955452/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934453301/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8935058826/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8935035572/in/photostream/lightbox/
Fun Photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8802777102/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8802737382/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8798939879/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934311905/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934318235/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934951632/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934955452/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8934453301/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8935058826/in/photostream/lightbox/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/meanderingmouse/8935035572/in/photostream/lightbox/
Saturday, April 27, 2013
A reality check in regards to violence and how insignificant your problems are..
Think the adversity you are dealing with in your life or what you've dealt with in your life is "devastating" or "really tough?" Let's have a reality check because, trust me, anyone reading this lives in a world of bliss compared to what could be happening. I'm not trying to discount the heartbreak and struggles we all have had during our lives but I'm trying to put things into perspective and not take for granted what I have and have had throughout my life. Bottom line, I couldn't have lived a better or luckier life than I've lived no matter the little speed bumps. The funny thing about it all? It's all uphill from here as I work hard to re-position my business to, hopefully, experience "real money" for once and work towards re-locating my personal space in the near future. Trust me, the adversity I've experienced has been nothing but ant droppings in comparison to most of what the world deals with and so have the "troubles" you've faced.
We've seen much senseless violence going on over the past 6 months and it had me thinking. I just had to re-adjust my compass a bit and realize that what I've experienced in the past and what may slap me in the face here in the near future is a joke.
Let's start small. So, this evil bomb called the "Tsar Bomba" was detonated by the Russians in 1961 - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsar_Bomba - This bomb was about 2x the strength of the 3rd largest earthquake in recorded history which caused destruction and loss of life to an extent that marks it as one of the largest natural disasters in recorded human history. Don't think nuclear weapons are evil? Think again. This bomb had the strength of 57 megatons of TNT. The Boxing Day Earthquake which occured in the Indian Ocean and triggered the devastating tsunami released energy equivalent to 26 Megatons of TNT, shifted the Earth's axis by 1 cm, and killed over 230,000 people without a shot fired. Food for thought, isn't it? I hope I die and my Son's children die before another nuclear arms race begins and we destroy ourselves. I can't believe I grew up during the nuclear arms race / cold war and have been fortunate enough to not be involved in violence and you should be feeling fortunate right about now as well because, odds are, you grew up during this time as well. Count your blessings if you lead a "boring ass life" and don't have to dodge bullets every so often because it's happening right now in many places around the world. The Middle East has been in unrest for decades.
Recently, The Syrian Civil War comes to mind. Want to see what real adversity is all about? Click the following link as I did one day and found myself uncontrollably shedding tears as I was, literally, sitting in a hotel room in a Communist country:
http://www.theatlantic.com/infocus/2012/11/syria-in-ruins/100402/
Peace is good but, sadly, a challenging state for us all to reach due, mostly, to factors that are so unbelievably not worth the blood spilled (*cough* - organized storybook bullshit religions). Violence is barbaric ignorance showing it's face. Plain and simple.
The one war dubbed, "The Forgotten War" remains one of the bloodiest wars in our recent history fought on a relatively small scale in comparison to those wars that even the most uneducated or, simply, uninformed dolts can name such as WWII and The Vietnam War. The Korean War was estimated to have taken 1.2 MILLION lives and most you'll talk to cannot even tell you what that war was about and, surprisingly enough, never ended. North and South Korea has remained in a state of war readiness since the fighting stopped but the war itself was never resolved and tensions have remained thick for decades now.
Take a step back and slap yourself for a moment. Your troubles are miniscule and you are a damn lucky person on this Earth no matter the perceived "hell" you've been through. We've all been handed said "hell" in our lives but it's nothing in comparison to which could be happening. Walk 10 steps to your faucet that instantly brings you clean drinking water and think for just one second about the millions that don't have that luxury for themselves or even their children they are trying to raise and give a chance.
In this all, I can be certain, life is a glorious gift for me and for those I know no matter what is dealt them. We've been shielded from true horror and pain that exists RIGHT NOW in this world. Keep that in mind when you have a stressful day and be glad you aren't busy ducking bullets or holding your child in your arms whose been shredded to pieces by gunfire. Simply be glad that you live in peace. Everything else is material, fleeting, bullshit that will not last in your life. Your loves, your friends, your dates, your homes, your cars, and on and on. Nothing lasts but peace in your life can and you, most likely, will live a blissful existence devoid or such awful horrors brought by the terror of war. Your life will only change in insignificant ways when you look at the big picture of what's really going on out there because you were given more choices and options than the average human on this mud ball. Just remember that the next time you bitch about something that bothers you because, let's face it, you're being ridiculously narrow-minded and truly are a lucky soul on this planet that should be thankful. Last, let's not forget. You could instantly and, without warning, die tomorrow. You actually could.
We've seen much senseless violence going on over the past 6 months and it had me thinking. I just had to re-adjust my compass a bit and realize that what I've experienced in the past and what may slap me in the face here in the near future is a joke.
Let's start small. So, this evil bomb called the "Tsar Bomba" was detonated by the Russians in 1961 - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsar_Bomba - This bomb was about 2x the strength of the 3rd largest earthquake in recorded history which caused destruction and loss of life to an extent that marks it as one of the largest natural disasters in recorded human history. Don't think nuclear weapons are evil? Think again. This bomb had the strength of 57 megatons of TNT. The Boxing Day Earthquake which occured in the Indian Ocean and triggered the devastating tsunami released energy equivalent to 26 Megatons of TNT, shifted the Earth's axis by 1 cm, and killed over 230,000 people without a shot fired. Food for thought, isn't it? I hope I die and my Son's children die before another nuclear arms race begins and we destroy ourselves. I can't believe I grew up during the nuclear arms race / cold war and have been fortunate enough to not be involved in violence and you should be feeling fortunate right about now as well because, odds are, you grew up during this time as well. Count your blessings if you lead a "boring ass life" and don't have to dodge bullets every so often because it's happening right now in many places around the world. The Middle East has been in unrest for decades.
Recently, The Syrian Civil War comes to mind. Want to see what real adversity is all about? Click the following link as I did one day and found myself uncontrollably shedding tears as I was, literally, sitting in a hotel room in a Communist country:
http://www.theatlantic.com/infocus/2012/11/syria-in-ruins/100402/
Peace is good but, sadly, a challenging state for us all to reach due, mostly, to factors that are so unbelievably not worth the blood spilled (*cough* - organized storybook bullshit religions). Violence is barbaric ignorance showing it's face. Plain and simple.
The one war dubbed, "The Forgotten War" remains one of the bloodiest wars in our recent history fought on a relatively small scale in comparison to those wars that even the most uneducated or, simply, uninformed dolts can name such as WWII and The Vietnam War. The Korean War was estimated to have taken 1.2 MILLION lives and most you'll talk to cannot even tell you what that war was about and, surprisingly enough, never ended. North and South Korea has remained in a state of war readiness since the fighting stopped but the war itself was never resolved and tensions have remained thick for decades now.
Take a step back and slap yourself for a moment. Your troubles are miniscule and you are a damn lucky person on this Earth no matter the perceived "hell" you've been through. We've all been handed said "hell" in our lives but it's nothing in comparison to which could be happening. Walk 10 steps to your faucet that instantly brings you clean drinking water and think for just one second about the millions that don't have that luxury for themselves or even their children they are trying to raise and give a chance.
In this all, I can be certain, life is a glorious gift for me and for those I know no matter what is dealt them. We've been shielded from true horror and pain that exists RIGHT NOW in this world. Keep that in mind when you have a stressful day and be glad you aren't busy ducking bullets or holding your child in your arms whose been shredded to pieces by gunfire. Simply be glad that you live in peace. Everything else is material, fleeting, bullshit that will not last in your life. Your loves, your friends, your dates, your homes, your cars, and on and on. Nothing lasts but peace in your life can and you, most likely, will live a blissful existence devoid or such awful horrors brought by the terror of war. Your life will only change in insignificant ways when you look at the big picture of what's really going on out there because you were given more choices and options than the average human on this mud ball. Just remember that the next time you bitch about something that bothers you because, let's face it, you're being ridiculously narrow-minded and truly are a lucky soul on this planet that should be thankful. Last, let's not forget. You could instantly and, without warning, die tomorrow. You actually could.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
2012 Reflection
What a year. Massive party in Floridah at EPCOT for NYE
2011-2012..Obtained a visa for mainland China and visited Shanghai in
Feb on a work trip...visited Sydney, The Sunshine Coast, and Brisbane
Australia in March with my fiance. Took two 7 day cruises on the most luxurious cruise
liner sailing the seas hitting Cozumel, Grand Cayman, Costa Maya, The
Bahamas, St. Thomas, and San Juan...Visited Hong Kong / Hong Kong
Disneyland and Shenzhen in Mainland China to kick the Fall off..Spent a
week in Dizzney Whirl in FL and Disneyland in So-Cal...and one night in
midtown Manhattan on Halloween. I lost one of my largest clients but
gained 3 others to fill the gap. I learned how to ride a motorcycle and
put in over 1000 miles around Houston. Last? I spent more time with my
sweet little boy, The Cashmeister, than I have since he was born. Life
is an astounding journey.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Shit my Mom Says...
Not one thing my Mother has said to me over the years has really stuck with me so the title to this blog post isn't entirely accurate. However, the thing I learned about my Mom is that she's got a super hero sense in regards to affairs of the heart. While I look back at my last blog post, I notice that shit my Dad has said to me was logical in nature. When I think of the shit my Mom has said to me, it's been based on situations emotional in nature.
Ladies. Surprisingly enough, Men do have hearts. We just know they're dumb most of the time so we follow a path of logic more often than not and it drives you all crazy. Then you don't understand us, get frustrated with us, and we come to not understand you and get frustrated just the same. Wash, rinse, repeat. But, I digress.
What I've learned from shit my Mom has said is that she's always right when it comes to advice about relationships. I hated admitting that because I want to tear relationships apart with a socket wrench and look at the logical side of it all. Well, there is no logic in love so a take handed to you by the fairer sex and, more importantly, by the Woman who literally pushed you out into this harsh world full of pain, ignorance, and confusion can, and usually does, hold great value. A good Mother and most Mother's want only the best for their offspring. As they let them out of the den and into the wild, they can only hope and pray that their children's lives are filled with happiness and nothing more. My Mother has always wanted that for me and it took me until I was almost 30 years old to finally realize that her word on relationships carry great weight and meaning.
Thanks for that and so much more, Mom.
Ladies. Surprisingly enough, Men do have hearts. We just know they're dumb most of the time so we follow a path of logic more often than not and it drives you all crazy. Then you don't understand us, get frustrated with us, and we come to not understand you and get frustrated just the same. Wash, rinse, repeat. But, I digress.
What I've learned from shit my Mom has said is that she's always right when it comes to advice about relationships. I hated admitting that because I want to tear relationships apart with a socket wrench and look at the logical side of it all. Well, there is no logic in love so a take handed to you by the fairer sex and, more importantly, by the Woman who literally pushed you out into this harsh world full of pain, ignorance, and confusion can, and usually does, hold great value. A good Mother and most Mother's want only the best for their offspring. As they let them out of the den and into the wild, they can only hope and pray that their children's lives are filled with happiness and nothing more. My Mother has always wanted that for me and it took me until I was almost 30 years old to finally realize that her word on relationships carry great weight and meaning.
Thanks for that and so much more, Mom.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Shit my Dad has said...
My Father is a brutally honest man in his opinion of people, places, and situations. Myself and others may not always agree with his opinions as they are just that. Opinions. However, a few simple things my Father said to me at a young age not only made my head spin but actually taught me quite a bit.
The first two pieces of advice I remember my Father tossing at me dealt with cars. I couldn't have been older than 5 or 6 when he told me that, no matter what you drive, you don't want people to see you driving around in said automobile that's dirty more often than not. My Father is an extremely organized and clean man. He always has been and almost to the point where it became a running joke. I'm nowhere near as organized and clean as he is but I present my spaces better than 90% of the males I've met in this world without really trying that hard in my opinion. There's definitely room for improvement but don't we all have room to improve upon most things in our life.
Next, my Father's dream car seemed to be a 5 series Mercedes-Benz. He eventually got his 560SEL and loved it. The odd thing was, he never seemed to drive the damn thing. As a teenager, I always wanted to go out with him in it. I asked him why he didn't take it out more often and he told me that you don't want to drive your luxury car around most people. Especially around acquaintances. This one stumped me at a young age until he pointed out that people judge you based on certain possessions that make you appear affluent in nature. In a nutshell, I learned that being ostentatious in regards to your wealth, is one of the most ignorant and ugly traits. I'm proud of what I've accomplished in my life and that feeling of pride sometimes gets me in trouble. I'm guilty of being somewhat boastful about the freedoms I've worked hard for; not what I have in the bank. What I have in the bank might as well be Monopoly money. I'm not nearly as successful as many people and my work ethic isn't what I've seen in my Father and others I've come to admire. I do well and hold my head up to that affect. I work different, though. I don't aspire to swim in riches. Freedom with my time is worth just as much to me as money in the bank. An over abundance of wealth is useless if you can't enjoy it, you're always chasing it, and when you're fast-tracking yourself into the grave stressing over accumulating wealth. Some of the most miserable human beings on Earth I've met and read about, have had insane amounts of money while some of the happiest and calmest people I've met, are ones that lead a meager financial existence. The people I've known in my life that I have admired the most are those that are insanely successful but you would never know it. The type of *self made* people that, for instance, have a few private jets at their disposal but you couldn't pick them out of a crowd let alone ever fathom them carrying that type of wealth. These are great people to surround yourself with. I've met most good souls such as this being a part of the small business world. Hard working individuals that provide jobs / opportunity to others without being, for a lack of a better description, assholes about it all are inspirational to say the least.
While I was in college surviving on ramen noodles, my Dad once said to me that a thousands dollars wasn't a lot of money. I almost spit out my 9 cent bowl of soup when I heard this. His only response to me when I told him that he was off his rocker was, "just wait until you get older." Lets just say he couldn't have been more spot on with this statement and, to this day, this has become fact in my world. A fact that I find myself hating. The more you make, the more you find yourself spending. It's pretty simple and choosing a lifestyle while finding balance in it all is something I think I'll be fighting to do for most of my life.
Fair warning with the next piece of advice I was given. It's a bit misogynistic but can be looked at in many ways. My Dad once said to me, "Son, nothing will cost your more during the course of your life than Women." This runs parallel to the phrase "if it flies, floats, or fucks, you're better off renting." This has always made me laugh. I own a watercraft and, damn, they cost a lot to keep up and you eventually leave them sitting in a garage somewhere after riding the hell out of them :) All kidding aside, I'm not blind to the fact that my Dad's statement, most likely, comes from his own challenges and failures within his love life. I get that and respect that. However, in a broader and less harsh sense, I've learned and translated the following from this particular particle of shit my Dad said to me: Your closest relationships to others whether intimate or not will cost you the most in the course of your life. We not only invest finances in many close relationships with others but we also make large emotional investments in others. I believe you should invest both in people that you are close to. If you don't, what's the point of bothering with it all? You'll never move anything forward not investing in it. So, open your wallet and especially your heart or failure will bite you in the ass. And, yes, I'd have to agree with my Dad. Relationships of an intimate nature can become gravely expensive endeavors in every sense. Healthy relationships should be respected and worked at. You should always be able to stand on your own, be comfortable with being alone and content doing so when you must, strive to stand next to someone rather than be in their shadow or be dragging someone behind you. Good lovers are good partners and should offer much to one another in return. What you have to offer doesn't always need to be solely financial in nature but the idea here is to pull your weight and be close to someone willing to pull their weight or you'll pay a great price.
Well, that's some of the shit my Dad has said to me at a young age that has stuck with me. Thanks, Dad.
The first two pieces of advice I remember my Father tossing at me dealt with cars. I couldn't have been older than 5 or 6 when he told me that, no matter what you drive, you don't want people to see you driving around in said automobile that's dirty more often than not. My Father is an extremely organized and clean man. He always has been and almost to the point where it became a running joke. I'm nowhere near as organized and clean as he is but I present my spaces better than 90% of the males I've met in this world without really trying that hard in my opinion. There's definitely room for improvement but don't we all have room to improve upon most things in our life.
Next, my Father's dream car seemed to be a 5 series Mercedes-Benz. He eventually got his 560SEL and loved it. The odd thing was, he never seemed to drive the damn thing. As a teenager, I always wanted to go out with him in it. I asked him why he didn't take it out more often and he told me that you don't want to drive your luxury car around most people. Especially around acquaintances. This one stumped me at a young age until he pointed out that people judge you based on certain possessions that make you appear affluent in nature. In a nutshell, I learned that being ostentatious in regards to your wealth, is one of the most ignorant and ugly traits. I'm proud of what I've accomplished in my life and that feeling of pride sometimes gets me in trouble. I'm guilty of being somewhat boastful about the freedoms I've worked hard for; not what I have in the bank. What I have in the bank might as well be Monopoly money. I'm not nearly as successful as many people and my work ethic isn't what I've seen in my Father and others I've come to admire. I do well and hold my head up to that affect. I work different, though. I don't aspire to swim in riches. Freedom with my time is worth just as much to me as money in the bank. An over abundance of wealth is useless if you can't enjoy it, you're always chasing it, and when you're fast-tracking yourself into the grave stressing over accumulating wealth. Some of the most miserable human beings on Earth I've met and read about, have had insane amounts of money while some of the happiest and calmest people I've met, are ones that lead a meager financial existence. The people I've known in my life that I have admired the most are those that are insanely successful but you would never know it. The type of *self made* people that, for instance, have a few private jets at their disposal but you couldn't pick them out of a crowd let alone ever fathom them carrying that type of wealth. These are great people to surround yourself with. I've met most good souls such as this being a part of the small business world. Hard working individuals that provide jobs / opportunity to others without being, for a lack of a better description, assholes about it all are inspirational to say the least.
While I was in college surviving on ramen noodles, my Dad once said to me that a thousands dollars wasn't a lot of money. I almost spit out my 9 cent bowl of soup when I heard this. His only response to me when I told him that he was off his rocker was, "just wait until you get older." Lets just say he couldn't have been more spot on with this statement and, to this day, this has become fact in my world. A fact that I find myself hating. The more you make, the more you find yourself spending. It's pretty simple and choosing a lifestyle while finding balance in it all is something I think I'll be fighting to do for most of my life.
Fair warning with the next piece of advice I was given. It's a bit misogynistic but can be looked at in many ways. My Dad once said to me, "Son, nothing will cost your more during the course of your life than Women." This runs parallel to the phrase "if it flies, floats, or fucks, you're better off renting." This has always made me laugh. I own a watercraft and, damn, they cost a lot to keep up and you eventually leave them sitting in a garage somewhere after riding the hell out of them :) All kidding aside, I'm not blind to the fact that my Dad's statement, most likely, comes from his own challenges and failures within his love life. I get that and respect that. However, in a broader and less harsh sense, I've learned and translated the following from this particular particle of shit my Dad said to me: Your closest relationships to others whether intimate or not will cost you the most in the course of your life. We not only invest finances in many close relationships with others but we also make large emotional investments in others. I believe you should invest both in people that you are close to. If you don't, what's the point of bothering with it all? You'll never move anything forward not investing in it. So, open your wallet and especially your heart or failure will bite you in the ass. And, yes, I'd have to agree with my Dad. Relationships of an intimate nature can become gravely expensive endeavors in every sense. Healthy relationships should be respected and worked at. You should always be able to stand on your own, be comfortable with being alone and content doing so when you must, strive to stand next to someone rather than be in their shadow or be dragging someone behind you. Good lovers are good partners and should offer much to one another in return. What you have to offer doesn't always need to be solely financial in nature but the idea here is to pull your weight and be close to someone willing to pull their weight or you'll pay a great price.
Well, that's some of the shit my Dad has said to me at a young age that has stuck with me. Thanks, Dad.
Friday, February 3, 2012
You
You are not your bra size, nor are you the width of your waist, nor are you the slenderness of your calves. You are not your hair color, your skin color, nor are you a shade of lipstick. Your shoe size is of no consequence. You are not defined by the amount of attention you get from males, females, or any combination thereof. You are not the number of sit-ups you can do, nor are you the number of calories in a day. You are not your mustache. You are not the hair on your legs. You are not a little red dress. You are no amalgam of these things. You are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you. You are the goals that you set. You are the things that you laugh at and the words that you say. You are the thoughts you think and the things you wonder. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, but for the volume of the soul it carries.
The basket, the lotion, the hose, and being precious
He tells her to "put the fuckin' lotion in the basket or it gets the hose again!" Why? Because he wants a nice soft skin suit to wear around town even though he rarely leaves his basement. He refers to her as "it" as to not humanize the situation; to avoid feeling emotion so he can continue to avoid something cruel. Well, my precious, it's funny how we all throw up our walls and do the same. So, go ahead. Run from your emotions. Dehumanize everything and yourself for that matter to "protect" yourself from harsh realities. I dunno, to me it just leaves you as that creepy person that wants to wear a skin suit around town but, in reality, you end up hiding in your basement, petting a poodle, tucking your junk, and putting lipstick on over and over again trying to feel sexy. Sounds fucked up and miserable doesn't it? That's because it is!
-Inspired by Buffalo Bill, The Lambs, and all you assholes out there too afraid to show some emotion and be honest about them versus hiding like a little bitch :)
-Inspired by Buffalo Bill, The Lambs, and all you assholes out there too afraid to show some emotion and be honest about them versus hiding like a little bitch :)
Conumdrum of "Hell"
They tend to say that hell is crowded. However, I tend to think that while you're in hell, you always seem to be alone. If you tell anyone that you're in hell, they think you're crazy but being in hell is crazy.
The Problem
The problem with drinking is that, if something bad happens, you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens, you drink to celebrate; and if nothing happens, you drink to make something happen.
The same goes for drugs...pills...your poison...
The same goes for drugs...pills...your poison...
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Push the Paradigm
The following is a thread of conversation I started among friends and thought it was worthy of my blog:
I sleep and work when I want. My schedule is all over the place. I put in 11 years of stress and risk building something to sustain myself and afford me certain luxuries and freedoms. In all this, I've never once paid a bill late due to lack of funds and have sustained credit in the 96 percentile for years. I put in more years in school, working for a *pittance* in the public sector (24k-26k/yr) after 75k was spent on my college education in 1990's dollars, and then worked within the private sector before taking the largest risk by striking out on my own. I came from nothing but love. I was raised in a single Mother household of 2 children from the get go where times were extremely tough for our little household. Looking at the big picture, a very small bit of financial help was given. I'm thankful for every shred of support my family gave at a young age and thankful to have grown up with an incredible role model. My Sister worked her heart and soul to the bone to become an M.D. and didn't just eek by her journey in receiving her medical license. She was rarely beyond the top 5 in large classes of peers when graduating each step along the way. Let's just say that, as a young confused teenager, I was on the path to utter loserville and I credit watching my Sister graduate #2 in her class of 800 during high school while getting accepted to one of the most prestigious undergrad programs in America, among many other accolades, was a major wake up call for me. Come hell or high water, I wasn't going to be the problem kid all my life as I had my moments and handouts were not an option in my family. However, I would have to do it my way and I quickly strayed from the traditional.
Americans work too damn much. We spend more time with the people in the office than our family, loved ones, and friends. Pitifully, most people are simply taking up desk space and office time doing absolutely nothing! Why must people be made to physically be somewhere when they are accomplishing nothing? People should only work when being 100% productive or when there is an opportunity to be 100% productive. Being chained to a desk waiting for something to act upon that effects the bottom line due to the 9 to 5 paradigm is Dinosaur mentality. Of course, there are jobs out there which you are productive every moment you are there but most of them aren't found in corporate cubicle farms. They are found in service industries which are full of respectable, hard working, and even wildly successful people for whom I admire knowing I couldn't do what they do.
So, yes, our typical work mentality makes no sense to me at all especially when you've got better luck finding an 8 legged ballerina than securing a proper retirement package or steady employment over the years from a single corporate entity these days. This isn't the 50's or 60's anymore and corporations will cut your ass at 50 years old quicker than a virgin loses their flower on prom night. I've seen this happen first hand with family members dedicating themselves for most of their lives for one corporate stable only to get shit on in the end. It's not worth taking the chance and I'd rather get with the lot that employs over 80% of Americans. Small business. Last, we are the least traveled culture on Earth due to this whack work "ethic" that everyone hates and our ignorant attitude saying, "America is the best...why would I want to go anywhere else?" There's no arguing it. I've met citizens from all over the world that are more worldly at 24 years old than 90% of Americans as travel is part of their education and life at a young age. I've met people that think I'm downright off and even seem to quietly criticize me for going to "odd" far off places. I've been asked, "what's over there that's so fascinating? What's over there that we Americans don't have...we have it all here." The best answer to this is, "I DON'T KNOW...THAT'S THE MAIN REASON TO GO...TO FIND OUT!"
I'll eventually get off my soap box but I've been thinking quite a bit about this. Outside of professionally licensed professions, our entire education system in the USA is a joke designed to put people in debt and enslave them as obedient monkeys to those that hold 99.9% of the wealth in this country. College is an evil business supported by and built by people that own us. I'll raise my Son with this knowledge and let him make his own decisions on how to proceed with his life. I'll want him to listen to his heart versus high school counselors telling him that, "without going straight to college, you'll be flipping burgers for the rest of your life." I'll encourage him to challenge people that seem to shovel manure around for a living. Most of the innovative billionaires and visionaries in this world are educational system dropouts and this speaks volumes. I actually know some people personally like this that excel and make insanely successful financial strides after dropping the educational system. We should encourage passions in this country backed by the tools and means to pursue such passions versus enrollment and degrees as these things are old fashioned and antiquated ways of thinking. We should also encourage people to organize their world to have the freedom to sleep weird hours and live outside of the box created by the 99.9% of the ass hats holding the cash, owning this country, and steering it horribly wrong to keep controlling interest of it all while our currency fails miserably under mounting debt caused by horrid policy. F*ck the norm. Shift the paradigm so people can never "work" a day in their life by simply doing something that they have a passion for.
Did you really think the world would let slavery go? Pfft! They've just gift wrapped it! For most, college is an avenue to being an indentured servant.
I sleep and work when I want. My schedule is all over the place. I put in 11 years of stress and risk building something to sustain myself and afford me certain luxuries and freedoms. In all this, I've never once paid a bill late due to lack of funds and have sustained credit in the 96 percentile for years. I put in more years in school, working for a *pittance* in the public sector (24k-26k/yr) after 75k was spent on my college education in 1990's dollars, and then worked within the private sector before taking the largest risk by striking out on my own. I came from nothing but love. I was raised in a single Mother household of 2 children from the get go where times were extremely tough for our little household. Looking at the big picture, a very small bit of financial help was given. I'm thankful for every shred of support my family gave at a young age and thankful to have grown up with an incredible role model. My Sister worked her heart and soul to the bone to become an M.D. and didn't just eek by her journey in receiving her medical license. She was rarely beyond the top 5 in large classes of peers when graduating each step along the way. Let's just say that, as a young confused teenager, I was on the path to utter loserville and I credit watching my Sister graduate #2 in her class of 800 during high school while getting accepted to one of the most prestigious undergrad programs in America, among many other accolades, was a major wake up call for me. Come hell or high water, I wasn't going to be the problem kid all my life as I had my moments and handouts were not an option in my family. However, I would have to do it my way and I quickly strayed from the traditional.
Americans work too damn much. We spend more time with the people in the office than our family, loved ones, and friends. Pitifully, most people are simply taking up desk space and office time doing absolutely nothing! Why must people be made to physically be somewhere when they are accomplishing nothing? People should only work when being 100% productive or when there is an opportunity to be 100% productive. Being chained to a desk waiting for something to act upon that effects the bottom line due to the 9 to 5 paradigm is Dinosaur mentality. Of course, there are jobs out there which you are productive every moment you are there but most of them aren't found in corporate cubicle farms. They are found in service industries which are full of respectable, hard working, and even wildly successful people for whom I admire knowing I couldn't do what they do.
So, yes, our typical work mentality makes no sense to me at all especially when you've got better luck finding an 8 legged ballerina than securing a proper retirement package or steady employment over the years from a single corporate entity these days. This isn't the 50's or 60's anymore and corporations will cut your ass at 50 years old quicker than a virgin loses their flower on prom night. I've seen this happen first hand with family members dedicating themselves for most of their lives for one corporate stable only to get shit on in the end. It's not worth taking the chance and I'd rather get with the lot that employs over 80% of Americans. Small business. Last, we are the least traveled culture on Earth due to this whack work "ethic" that everyone hates and our ignorant attitude saying, "America is the best...why would I want to go anywhere else?" There's no arguing it. I've met citizens from all over the world that are more worldly at 24 years old than 90% of Americans as travel is part of their education and life at a young age. I've met people that think I'm downright off and even seem to quietly criticize me for going to "odd" far off places. I've been asked, "what's over there that's so fascinating? What's over there that we Americans don't have...we have it all here." The best answer to this is, "I DON'T KNOW...THAT'S THE MAIN REASON TO GO...TO FIND OUT!"
I'll eventually get off my soap box but I've been thinking quite a bit about this. Outside of professionally licensed professions, our entire education system in the USA is a joke designed to put people in debt and enslave them as obedient monkeys to those that hold 99.9% of the wealth in this country. College is an evil business supported by and built by people that own us. I'll raise my Son with this knowledge and let him make his own decisions on how to proceed with his life. I'll want him to listen to his heart versus high school counselors telling him that, "without going straight to college, you'll be flipping burgers for the rest of your life." I'll encourage him to challenge people that seem to shovel manure around for a living. Most of the innovative billionaires and visionaries in this world are educational system dropouts and this speaks volumes. I actually know some people personally like this that excel and make insanely successful financial strides after dropping the educational system. We should encourage passions in this country backed by the tools and means to pursue such passions versus enrollment and degrees as these things are old fashioned and antiquated ways of thinking. We should also encourage people to organize their world to have the freedom to sleep weird hours and live outside of the box created by the 99.9% of the ass hats holding the cash, owning this country, and steering it horribly wrong to keep controlling interest of it all while our currency fails miserably under mounting debt caused by horrid policy. F*ck the norm. Shift the paradigm so people can never "work" a day in their life by simply doing something that they have a passion for.
Did you really think the world would let slavery go? Pfft! They've just gift wrapped it! For most, college is an avenue to being an indentured servant.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Positive stress
I remember long ago studying psychology while away at University. During one course, the subject of stress came up. This is a subject I believe everyone in the room could jump for joy over as we could actually deeply and easily relate to such a subject while trudging through the challenges of figuring out who the hell we were in this world and meeting the the challenges being thrown at us by overzealous private University professors looking to weed out the stoners and time wasters. Well, I doubt those dumb ass trust fund babies going to school for the hell of it, those there for the beer, or the bow headed Women at school solely to get their MRS. degree gave a damn about stress but I and many others did.
When the subject of "positive stress" was put upon the table, my mind spun. How the hell can stress be a positive thing? It was explained that positive stress was the type of stress that motivates us. The type that pushes us. An elementary example of this would be a airplane departure time you must meet. As the clock ticks down, the stress of being prepared and on time will motivate your ass to get your proverbial shit together and get out the door.
Over the years, I haven't been a pro at managing stress. I'm downright lousy at it. I worry far too much for stupid reasons and have led a charmed life if you put it under a microscope. Many people on this Earth have a hard time finding clean drinking water and most have insane challenges keeping a roof over their head and food on the table. Have I worked hard to get where I am? Yes. However, I realize that one of the key factors in anything good that has come my way has been self-discipline. For me, self-discipline is easy to toss out the window. I don't have a clock to punch or a regimented schedule to follow. I've worked hard to create a small business that sustains my needs and allows me to meet my responsibilities. The one thing that has driven me though is positive stress. When I worry, it feels like a fire within me that I must desperately put out. A fire that must be put out NOW...not later. Have you ever had a conflict with someone you care about and felt the nagging need to resolve the issue and clear the air with that person right away? Yeah, you have. Well, that's positive stress at work for you. That's positive stress motivating you in a particular direction and to make particular choices which will guide you down the path of life in the proper direction.
Lately, I've looked back and seen this in action. I've worried far too much for very little reason in retrospect. Positive stress kicked in and my perceived problems started flying out the window quickly due to my actions under my own stressors.
So, stress is an evil thing but necessary to keep us on our toes. The next time you find yourself about to lose your marbles, slow down and think of how you can motivate yourself, change directions, and get back on solid ground. Life is mostly made of rough times sprinkled with moments of joy. It's how you deal with the rough times that marks your character. I have a sensible feeling that I'll be working on this skill as I walk right into the grave and be utterly jealous of those that walk in ignorant bliss or have the magical ability to be fine with the rivers of life carrying them along like a twig floating on it's shoulders.
When the subject of "positive stress" was put upon the table, my mind spun. How the hell can stress be a positive thing? It was explained that positive stress was the type of stress that motivates us. The type that pushes us. An elementary example of this would be a airplane departure time you must meet. As the clock ticks down, the stress of being prepared and on time will motivate your ass to get your proverbial shit together and get out the door.
Over the years, I haven't been a pro at managing stress. I'm downright lousy at it. I worry far too much for stupid reasons and have led a charmed life if you put it under a microscope. Many people on this Earth have a hard time finding clean drinking water and most have insane challenges keeping a roof over their head and food on the table. Have I worked hard to get where I am? Yes. However, I realize that one of the key factors in anything good that has come my way has been self-discipline. For me, self-discipline is easy to toss out the window. I don't have a clock to punch or a regimented schedule to follow. I've worked hard to create a small business that sustains my needs and allows me to meet my responsibilities. The one thing that has driven me though is positive stress. When I worry, it feels like a fire within me that I must desperately put out. A fire that must be put out NOW...not later. Have you ever had a conflict with someone you care about and felt the nagging need to resolve the issue and clear the air with that person right away? Yeah, you have. Well, that's positive stress at work for you. That's positive stress motivating you in a particular direction and to make particular choices which will guide you down the path of life in the proper direction.
Lately, I've looked back and seen this in action. I've worried far too much for very little reason in retrospect. Positive stress kicked in and my perceived problems started flying out the window quickly due to my actions under my own stressors.
So, stress is an evil thing but necessary to keep us on our toes. The next time you find yourself about to lose your marbles, slow down and think of how you can motivate yourself, change directions, and get back on solid ground. Life is mostly made of rough times sprinkled with moments of joy. It's how you deal with the rough times that marks your character. I have a sensible feeling that I'll be working on this skill as I walk right into the grave and be utterly jealous of those that walk in ignorant bliss or have the magical ability to be fine with the rivers of life carrying them along like a twig floating on it's shoulders.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wretch
"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it."
For me, I actually wretch and gag as the blackness inside tries to escape the storm inside.
"I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often."
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Another Bed
"another bed
another women
more curtainsanother women
another bathroom
another kitchen
other eyes
other hair
other
feet and toes.
everybodys looking.
the eternal search.
you stay in bed
she gets dressed for work
and you wonder what happened
to the last one
and the one after that…"
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Delusion = Love
It pains me how delusional I was to think that you would sacrifice anything for me when you couldn't sacrifice anything for your own blood.
Friend's retort in honor of my character - "There's a difference between being delusional and in love. You once fell victim to the later."
Well, shit! Truth? Being in love seems delusional. Leave the very definition of it on the sidewalks of your tortured soul. Instead, let it wander to you without words, without meaning, and without warning. Perhaps, this way, it can endure but not without clawing with compromise, understanding, and yes...sacrifice.
Friend's retort in honor of my character - "There's a difference between being delusional and in love. You once fell victim to the later."
Well, shit! Truth? Being in love seems delusional. Leave the very definition of it on the sidewalks of your tortured soul. Instead, let it wander to you without words, without meaning, and without warning. Perhaps, this way, it can endure but not without clawing with compromise, understanding, and yes...sacrifice.
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