I've come back to Blogger!

Wow, how time flies by!  I just wanted to send a quick update here....I will be changing the format to this site for sure....thinking about starting to post a short story/flash fiction per week.  I think this will be most manageable with a full-time job + taking care of a 1 yr old for half the day.  The question is, how polished will it be?  The answer, most likely not all that much at all.

Busy at work....

Working away at writing and revising.....


Nothing more to say than that.  Hope you're all doing well!

The 'Next' button...

The 'Next' button gets a lot of play whenever I'm reading blogs.  The anticipation of what's going to pop up is thrilling, kind of like a literary version of Chatroulette, only without the countless number of jerking off men.  A fact, for an added side note, that I am wholly grateful for whenever pressing the button.  I know sometimes you need to let loose, but I don't want to see you do it... get it, do it....

I always find it fascinating what blogger thinks is related to the previous blog I was reading.  I think for the most part they judge by broad strokes of similarities...prime example being language.  But beyond that, they do tend to group similarly veined blogs together.  Start reading a blog about fashion and the next one might be one by a make-up artist, followed by a fashion photographer, followed by another photographer... you get the idea.

I like to take time away from my blogs (which if you haven't realized is often) and press the next button to see what blogger thinks is a good match for my semi-poetry related blog.  What I have been surprised by lately is that I seem to be joined up with Spanish and Portuguese blogs, two languages that I have no real experience with.  I can plunk around and say a few words (many of them inappropriate of course) in Spanish.  But when it comes to Portuguese I am completely at a loss.  I take that back, I know one phrase that my Brazilian friend taught me, yet once again it is a phrase I shouldn't use!

So, in the spirit of joining with Spanish and Portuguese blogs Blogger has bestowed upon my lonely little blog, I thought I would take the time to attempt a few things in the languages of my neighboring bloggers:

¡Hola! Me encanta español!  Me encanta salsa, Compay Segunda y Buena Vista Social Club y Picasso y Rivera y Dali!!!!!

Para Portuguese - Eu amo Tribalistas, Água De Beber, bossa nova, e cidade de deus!

Haha....sorry.  I had to keep it simple, but that's my small shout out to the two languages I love to hear blaring through speakers...and even more when I can hear it live!  To close with another language's word that all three use....Ciao!

Life Is Good EP....check it out!

Jason Mraz is a very cool guy.  That is about as much of a blanket statement as you can make about him, I know, but it's true.  Either he is faking it until he's making it, or else he has a lot of things figured out about life.  I read his blog almost religiously as he is one of the most positive people I have ever discovered.  I say discovered because I've never met the guy, I don't really know him, and I don't have a better word to describe my relation to him.  Anyway, if you are the type that can be down on yourself, have doubts about who you are as a person, or anything negative related to self-personification...read his stuff.  It's seriously good ego-boosting material.

Mraz has a new EP out now entitled "Life Is Good" as he gets ready to release a new album.  These are songs that apparently might not make the cut, but he thought were good enough to get out.  I dig his music as it is also very uplifting in meaning, and he delivers on this EP.  The songs on the EP are pretty strong, and if you go here, you can hear the whole thing!  What can be better than that!

If Jason reads this....then you can mail my check at any time for the free publicity...oh wait....

A change of topics completely...

I wanted to take today to talk about the French artist named Fred.  Simple name, but complicated melodies and sounds, especially the second CD he put out in 08.  I bought his first CD when I lived in France by complete happenstance, and I am glad I stumbled on him.  He is almost completely unknown among the French people, which I find very sad.  I always try to compare him to an American artist when trying to describe his style to people here (America).  I think roughly one of the best comparisons would be Jack Johnson.  If Jack were to become French, I think he would sound like Fred.  Fred has a very diverse background and can speak fluently at least 5 languages. 

I only know so much because I went a concert of his once and it was one of the best I have ever seen.  It was just him, a drummer, and a piano player who was the opening act.  It was a great time and I even got to meet him after the concert as he was just hanging out in the bar.  I tried to stumble out some words in French, but then said the rest in English as I felt like an idiot.  I am not one to normally get tongue-tied, but I felt myself at that moment...how great! 


Anyway, I am a big fan of this musician and thought I would try to spread the word.  Some people might be put off by the fact he is a French singer, but I say get over it.  I have included the lyrics to a song called "Veille" below thanks to greatsong.net, so it will at least give you the ability to translate the song.  I personally won't do it for you because the chance that I might screw it up is great.  I would hate to have someone make the first comment on this blog just to tell me I messed up big time.  Anyway, I find it to be a beautiful song, and so I thought I would share it with anyone who might stumble upon this page.  Here is the song, and if you search really hard you can find a few extraits of the song on the web...otherwise, visit the aritsts website, and if you like his other stuff, buy the CD.  It's seriously that good.

As promised, voici les paroles!

J'ai sous la peau cet hiver
Qui ne débâcle pas
Petit feu de bord de mer
Qu'on ne souffle pas

J'ai caché dans ma voix
Des airs d'autrefois
Assise au fond de moi
Tu Veilles sur mes hiver

Il en est fait de moi
Il en est fait de moi

Dans nos mains on peut tout faire
Marchons du même pas
Et c'est un long Noël
Qui passe sans toi

J'ai caché dans ma voix
Des airs d'autrefois
Assise au fond de moi
Tu Veilles sur mes hiver

Il en est fait de moi
Il en est fait de moi

[ Merci à Narkotik d'avoir ajouté ces paroles ]

Hope you enjoy it.  Ciao.

How time can just fly by...

So I have been working on getting some pieces out.  A few weeks back I submitted three pieces to a website called Barrelhouse.  We'll see what happens with it, but so far no response.  Otherwise, still looking for places to submit and working away.  In terms of producing, I've kind of faltered withing the last few weeks.

It's amazing how time can fly by when you get sucked into the vortex of youtube.  From the absolute crap videos (watching gross shark bites) to the awe inspiring (Words video), there is always a million new videos to wrap yourself into endless hours mind-numbing stupification.  This happens to be a really great way to take your mind off the fact that you have had next to no sleep at all in the past few days.  Rag weed is killing me something fierce!  I think I have gone through two boxes of tissues over this Labor Day weekend.  Speaking of labor, I feel as if I could use another three day weekend to recoup after the strenous and back-breaking work I did.  One ceiling fan (over fifteen feet to the ceiling on a rickety ladder), one bathroom faucet, and one large garden box (4' wide x 20' long, and a foot high) and you have one busy body.

In other news, speaking of busy bodies and labor...my wife is pregnant.  Right now she has a nubby tadpole swimming inside of her, and on Thursday we will get a first look at the little peanut.  She has been very cautious about announcing the being growing within her, and I have complied so far to her wishes to keep things under wraps.  However, I know that no one really reads this blog, so I feel this is a way to cheat her wishes and spread the word like a manic soon-to-be dad and still not have to worry about spoiling her fun.  It is a crazy thing life, but this is how my life is.  Maybe that's everyone's life, but we just like to think we are unique in our situations.  Anyway, it is a shocking moment to experience, which is very ironic in itself.  You work (nudge nudge, wink wink) at trying to have a kid, but when the moment the test strip comes back with a positive sign, you end up saying "Damn."  And the shocked feeling is still there, the fish bowl effect of watching you standing there stunned as the world shrinks and you realize there's a higher purpose now for you.  To be responsible of more than just a dog who's pretty smart and could make it on his own, a wife who is amazing in her own right, but now to have under your wing a pooping, spitting, helpless bundle of pudge who needs you to become that beautiful being they will hopefully become.  It's a moment that - once it happens - you check yourself back into the reality that you know and are comfortable with because it's a little too much to take.  At least it was that way with me.  But as time is progressing, and the morethere are signs from my wife that there is life within her beyond gas and the remains of food, the more I start to grab ahold of this concept of fatherhood.  I think that now I can start seeing myself as a dad.  And now I just checked out of it, it's still too raw.  That's ok though, no need to worry.  I have until April before I really come face to face with the daddy reality.  Until then it's a pleasant dreaming coming to fruition.

I hope your days have been as eye-opening and universe expanding!

Matt

The Sneeze poem is finally published!!

Ok, so here it is.....the poem is up and running (or should I say riding?).  If you are in Lafayette, IN at anytime in the next six months, and you ride a bus, you might be able to see this on glossy 2'x3' paper in the bus.  Yeah, it's huge!!  How cool huh?  Even if it's just a bus, and they took a little liberty with the structuring of my piece, who cares!!  It's still fun to think of it.  It was just a fun piece I did, and I happy that it got out there.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Scroll back through other posts to see the piece being worked on and talked about!

Creativity....Part 2.

So I think I'm going to do a few posts on creativity...  Other people's creativity that is.  This is technically the second part to the series since my last post and the flying cereal should have been labeled the first. I think the focus will be how creativity can be manifested in even everyday life.  I think it's about time people start thinking beyond the regimented rule of allowing themselves whimsy only when they're young.  Too often we get out of school, and the impetus for experimentation is gone.  The mentality becomes: We don't try anything in art/music/writing/any sport because we're (a/an) _______, and that's the only thing that can define us now.  The routine is set, and this is the way it will be from now on.

I think comfort can be nice, but choas will keep us alive.  Anyway, here is some definite outside-the-box thinking that is totally creative!




Check out the blog for more cute pics of this baby here

A fun video!

So, I think that being creative in writing means to use sources for inspiration everywhere.  I love to explore many venues of creativity......and I especially dig the interface of graphic design with poetry.  I love how many people now tend to create pieces of art by combining image and word, and I definitely think it is a trend which is picking up more traction (and has been for the past ten years).

So, with the thought of exploring creativity in other genres... I thought I would present the following video for your enjoyment.  I dig it a lot since I have wondered many times what it would be like to pick up a table full of food and let it drop.... I guess kind of that self-destructive manifestations we have when younger...

When you watch it, I thought it was cool to take a look at the photos on the right-hand side of the screen that shows the setting up of the shoot.

http://vimeo.com/12432139


The Huber Experiments - Vol. 1 from The Upthink Lab on Vimeo.

A Forray into Flash Fiction

So, maybe the following is not exactly a forray in the sense of pillaging flash fiction.  It's really more like taking a dip into the genre.  But, I thought I'd post up a bit of long flash fiction I wrote based off a poem of mine.  I don't know what made me want to do it, but sometimes you get ideas in your head that you can't shake, or is it just me?  Anyway, this is not really refined at all, and I know there are a few areas that can be tightened up, words changes, phrases rearragned.  I realize flash fiction is usually shorter, but I have to say I relatively happy with the first effort.  I wanted to take the name 'flash fiction' quite literally, hence the breaks in the story.  Oh, a bit of warning...it contains bad words in it and sexual content, but it's not smut or anything nasty like that....so no worries.

Well, hope you enjoy....if anyone is reading that is ;)  It's called Sara and the Price of it All:

        He went flying by her in a squat, white convertible, its top and windows down. The last rays of the sun to shone off the top of his bald pate. His arm, poised upon the door, revealing a brown, tailored suit that showed just the perfect amount of his white cuff. As he passed, barely giving her a sideways glance, a smirk was smeared on as if he were grimacing from some unknown pain. He swerved in front of her, just missing the tail end of the car in front of him and forcing her to slam on her brakes. Now in front of her, he tapped on the brakes twice to make some kind of signal.
        She saw his head tilt back a bit, presumably from a chortle. Then just as quickly as it happened, he zoomed away from her. She took a deep breath, and held down the scream that wanted to creep out.


     “Sara!”
     The exclaim rang out even about the loud chatter from those in the party. Sara was startled. She zipped around to see who was calling out her name. It was Harvey Kline, a gentle and fun guy Sara was always pleased to see at parties. He was a short man, as seemed to be a lot of the men in Los Angeles. His brown hair hung loose in large curls much like a dirty mop. His face was bright and round, as usual, and he came over to her with a large smile pasted across it. He carried two drinks in his hands making a locomotion action with them as he approached accompanied by a chug chug sound from jutted lips.
     “My lady,” Harvey said, bowing as much as the crowed room permitted. His voice was a rich tenor full of Shakespearean propriety as he spoke. “Put down whatever thy drink is and have a quaff of this concoction.” Sara did as commanded and took a sip of his drink.
    “Wow, this is really good, what is it?”
    “Ah, well,” Harvey’s voice altered again, taking on the combination of a maniacal scientist and Peter Lorre. “It is… a concoction of which I cannot tell you. But, I made it myself.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and it’s filled with ruffies so that I can ravish your body later without anyone knowing the better!” He laughed mischievously and Sara could not help but join in.
    “Okay, if you weren’t such a softy,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I might believe you.”
    “It’s not working, huh?” Harvey deadpanned at her.
    “Sorry hun.”
    “Oh,” and he hung his head, shoulders severely stooped over. He looked the perfect picture of pity and she laughed. “Hey,” Harvey straightened up, now serious, “did you ever get the part? You know, the one you tried out for like last week it was. What was it, the ah…”
    “The waitress role for the John Rushing comedy,” Sara inserted. She shrugged. “Mum’s the word so far, but I guess Daniel Donahue’s got the final say,” she scrunched up her nose at the name.
    “Oh God, not him!”
    “Yes.”
    “But the guy’s such a creep!” Harvey looked around him to be sure no one was listening. “How does he even get in these positions?”
    “How do they all?”
    “Good point.”


    There he was, standing across the room. Sara was all by herself, wishing for anyone – but him – to come and talk to her. He had his eyes fixed on her like a predator watching it prey, readying for the pounce. She looked around, but saw no where to escape. She was caught, and he knew it. He made his way over, interjecting a comments to people along the way, yet relentless in his pursuit. Sara could see his brain working hard as he rehearsed mental moves to make her capitulate to him. In his mind, those moves would lead into more movement: the type that would send her to the place where all men want to send women. It was instinctive, the desire to get theirs, but then ask if it was good, seeking the affirmation of a job done well, and Sara wanted no part of it tonight.
    Just then, Harvey was near. She could see his fluffy head of curls, but could not make eye contact. She scooted over to try to initiate it, but it was not happening. Harvey was lost in conversation with a young couple who she did not recognize. They barely looked old enough to be in this party atmosphere, and, knowing where she was, Sara realized they probably were not. At the last moment, Sara got Harvey’s attention. His eyes perked up, and he broke into a big smile. He started to move towards her, but it was too late. Harvey saw why she had called him over, and mouthed a ‘Sorry’ to her.
    “Susan, how are you?”
    He had looked her up and down as he talked. Sara’s flesh crawled at the sight of it. As she shivered, an internal debate started. The subject was whether to correct him about calling her by the wrong name. It was very tempting to just let it slip. He ran into many people, especially young actors who are looking for their big break, so it seemed only natural. Then, she remembered who he was.
    “Hey Daniel. It’s actually Sara.”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “My name. My name is Sara, not Susan.”
    “Oh, right.” Daniel looked over his shoulder at the crowd behind him. He looked back at her again and smiled. Sara edged to the left. There was a glare coming from his bald head that unnerved her greatly. The way he seemed to look down on her, even though he was shorter than her by a full three inches, accentuated the glare. Daniel seem to stare down his angular nose when speaking, and it helped accentuate the vulture reputation he had in the business. His brown suit jacket was unbuttoned now, and she saw there was a large, wet stain down his dress shirt.
    “Someone got a little tipsy and crazy with their drink,” he said when he noticed her staring at it. He cracked a short burst of laughter, and she forced herself to laugh as well.
    “So,” Daniel said, drawing out the word, “your test scene was very good.”
    “Oh, thanks.” There was a brief pause between the two, and Sara followed with, “You really think so.”
    “Oh yeah, for sure. No doubt about it.” He gave her a look down, and without focusing on it, reached for the straw in his drink with his tongue. His tongue hung out, testing the air, seeking the thin plastic. All the while he stared at her body unapologetically. Daniel stared as if hypnotized. Finally, he continued, reluctantly looking up at her.
    “Yeah, we see thought that you have a lot of potential. It’s why I thought I’d talk to you tonight. I’d like to talk to you about potential.”


    Sara got up, slipping out from the sheets silently, hoping not to disturb him. She needed to get out of the place quickly. The stench of the room, the heat from his body still on her skin, all of it was too much. Above all else, the guilt of failing her resolve was creeping into her mindset. The price of it all was too much, and her dignity had a value Daniel could not ever understand. She just wished she had been able to have that clarity before tonight.
    She made it all the way out of the bed and began reaching for her clothes. She picked up a shoe but it slipped out of her hand. The smack against tile flooring was painfully loud. Stirring, then a moan came from the bed. Sara looked over her shoulder slowly. Daniel was moving now, and had turned in her direction. His beady eyes stared at her.
    “Where are you going?” His voice was flat.
    “I need to go. I have an appointment in the morning.” Sara continued to pick up her things.
    “Agh, come on,” his voice was full of phlegm, and he hacked twice, coughing up something that sounded substantial to Sara. She heard him swallow it. The repulsion was greater now, and she was afraid that she might just start running, regardless to her nakedness or the effect it might have on Daniel. “Come on, baby, let’s start up round two. What do you say? It’s only five in the morning.”
    “I’m sorry. I have to go.” Think of something. Any reason what-so-ever, but just think of something to say! “I have to drive home and get washed up. I’m really sorry.”
    “Oh, come on now, Susan. Don’t give me – ”
    “It’s Sara. If you’re going to fuck me, at least get it right.”
    Daniel sat up in his bed, and then stretched out his arms, arching his back and sliding down the bed again. He scratched stomach, moving farther down, pulling the sheet down with it until he was playing with himself.
    “Come on, babe. Don’t get so upset. See, I’m almost ready.”
    Sara shook her head. By this time, she had her dress back on and was slipping on her shoes. “I’m sorry. I really can’t now. I have to get back to my apartment in order to get ready.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Excuse me?” Sara could not believe what she heard. She stood motionless, staring at him.
    “I said ‘fuck you,’ are you now deaf too in addition to being prude?” He remained slouching, playing with himself. “Come on. Get back in bed with me.” His tone was not in a plea, but a firm command.
    “And I said I have to go, maybe your old age have damaged your ears.”
    “You dumb cunt.”
    “No," She shook her head. "Dumb no longer. That’s something you can bet on.” She started walking out of the room.
    “You know,” Daniel got up, kneeling on his bed, “you’re going to be making a mistake. You remember what I said about you having potential. Poof,” he motioned with his hand a cloud of smoke escaping his mouth, “now it’s gone. Gone.”
    She slowly shook her head. “If it means that I won’t have to fuck another limp dick like you, then so be it.” With that, Sara walked out of the apartment, ignoring the stream of insults that followed her out. The tirade became muted as the door behind her closed and finally faded away.

Getting back into the game/ A good blog I read today

I know I am not a good blogger.  In fact, I'm sure that one would realize this fact by a quick scan of my entries.  They tend to be made up of excuses on why I have not been writing, and how I will change that habit.

I've come to accept that I am not an extremely dedicated blogger.  Yet, at the same time, I have felt compelled to write an entry today after reading a couple blogs I regularly peruse.  Both were on the topic of blogging and the entries refreshing as usual, but still did not spur the drive to make some scribbles, or, I should say, some tappings.  What did it was a blog I stumbled upon.  I am a big fan of the "Next Blog" button at the top of the page, and hate it when people disable it.  Scanning through a series of blogs is always exciting as it is like opening a series of gifts, or walking into a book store to pull off random books and see if they spark interest.

So, when I had clicked through a bunch, one finally struck my fancy, and I started to read through her entries.  The blog is Gitzen Girl, and I was fascinated with her style of writing.  It's very engaging, and very easy to get hooked into reading it.  Also, I am really digging people who choose to have a positive aspect of life, especially in times of difficulty.  I am a negative guy by nature, so reading the entries of positive minded people are breaths of fresh air.  I am skeptical sometimes on how one can always be a pool of such energy, but I know it's my negative feelings creeping in to try to discredit them.

Anyway, in her blog, she has been grappling with the very recent and unexpected death of her father.  Her father meant much to her, and I can completely empathize as I lost my mother in similar unexpectedness.  But the tragedy aside, I found the desire to write an entry today due to a past entry of hers.  In one post she talks about how we are all given talents and it is usually our negative natures that cancels potential acts of greatness before we even begin them.  We tend to mitigate our strengths by saying 'it will not be good enough,' or 'a waste of time,' or that 'no one will care for it'.  We are so exact with the criticism that we shut down any attempts at exploring our possibilities, and instead rely upon the here and now of our situations: our jobs, our friends, our routines, what-have-you.  That's not to say those three things and other aspects are not life-fulfilling.  They are, but at times we tend to find a niche in between these things, and barricade ourselves to other possibilities, ones that might open us to new levels of personal contentment.  I know I am guilty... and I would wager others are too.

In  the end of the entry, she talks about reading a fortune cookie that quelled the doubt and confusion in her.  It said, "You are competent, capable, and creative.  Prove it."  A simple declaration for sure, but it was enough of a push for her to find her mojo again and write the article she wanted. 

Reading her blog and the fortune made me realize that I (too) am competent, capable, and creative.  I can prove it as well.  So, I am very thankful to her for the inspiration to write this entry, but also to help spur my creative writing juices in general again.  I was heading into a lull there for awhile after hitting a bump in the progress of a story I have been writing.  I side tracked with three short-stories and a few poems, but the impetus of output was lost.  Refreshed now, I am going to tackle that story and a few others I have been cooking up.  I now I can finish them, and, regardless if someone reads them, I know I can do it to the best of my ability.  As Arthur Christopher Benson wrote in The Thread of Gold, "...the essence of the happiness is that the joy [of writing] resides in the doing of the work and not in giving it to the world."  That seems to contradict what I am doing right now, but I deeply believe in those words.  I love to write for the satisfaction it provides to me, regardless of how many people will read them.  Would I like for people to read them and enjoy it?  You betcha!  But I know that I will continue with my work even if no one does.

So remember, as Gtizen Girl's fortune cookie said: 

You are competent, capable, and creative.  Prove it.

A link to events, people, and more

So, I have not written a post about poetry (outside of my own preoccupations) for quite some time.  I thought today, what better time than now?

While I was searching through all of the bookmarks I have grabbed for poetry resources, I rediscovered the poets.org site.  Granted, for those of you who are looking for lesser known artists...this is not the place for you.  However, what I find most interesting about this site is a map located within the it.  The map takes a look at important poets, events, and additional resources by each state within the United States.

I like this for two reasons:

First, I have a thing about knowing your local happenings.  Being involved in community is of great importance.  Without your involvement (yes I do mean everyone of you) the community cannot be vibrant.  When the community lacks, so do the amenities that people like.  You want a good jazz scene?  Be involved in the community and support it.  You want community parks and events?  Join a group that works to create those events.  You want a safe environment?  Join or create a neighborhood watch/walk and take back your streets.  It's all up to the individual to make the community.  Anyway, enough of the soapbox.

Second, knowing the history around you will help you grow as a person.  Much like being involved in the present will create a better now and future, so will knowing your past.  There are many influences on a culture - which I define as any segmented group (read community) - and they shape how people come to understand their surroundings.  Being cognizant of the past and their decisions will help an individual to understand the choices they make.  Further, it will help you assess them to see if you need to make a change for the better!

Poets.org's map helps accomplish those two functions.  It lets you know who the current and past major poets in your area are, and the events, groups, companies that will support the efforts you endeavor.  Being aware of your surroundings will help you connect to your poetic community and it's local history...all of which will, in the end, make you a better writer.  What could be better than that?

To see what's up in your state, click on the link below:

National Poetry Map

Fighting to not discover the answer...

Ok, I have a big thing about not having the ending of a story ruined.  Whether it be for a play, movie, novel....anything... I don't like to find out what happens.  I like the surprise at the end, I like to not know and have it revealed to me slowly over the course of time.  As a side note, my wife is completely the opposite.  She loves to have the answers before she begins.  You can imagine that this makes for tough times when it comes to watching movies as she always asks questions during the film.  Another side note, I can't stand talking or any interruption during films.  Thankfully, my wife has accommodated my neuroses and is really good about holding off on questions.

Anyway, this desire to be surprise comes into direct conflict with the outside world when I have not been able to see the finale of the show "Lost."  My wife and I are big "Lost" fans, and can't wait to see the ending.  We also have just purchased a house, she's taking three graduate classes, and I to work on the house while preparing for a concert this coming Monday.  Needless to say, time is tight.  That's where DVR is a life saver.  I'm in love with it, seriously.  I can't stand watching commercials... it's the bane of my existance.  With DVR, I can skip all the crap.

However, we have been having to dodge nearly all media outlets for the past two days in order to not find out what happens.  This is extremely hard to do, folks!  So far, I have been successful....but I was signing into this blog and happened to see a blog I follow put up a post on "Lost."  I think I might have inadvertantly seen something I did not want to see.  Right now, I'm doing my best to forget it, but it seems that the more I try to will myself to forget, the more it's getting stuck deep in my mind.  Argh!

So, I'm going to put on some music and do my best....and cut myself from anything on the web until I have finished the four hours(!!) of the show we have yet to see.  Wish me luck, and let's hope I don't see anything else!

I should be back now....

Well, what can I say?  It has been roughly a month since my last post.  Where have I been?  For the most part, I've been somewhere secluded with a phone glued to my ear.  It is amazing how much house hunting can be a full time job.  There are schedules to the whole process that are needing of attention to ensure a smooth process.  That means you have to do a lot of calling to make sure people are doing their jobs.  If you don't do it, then you run a big risk of being late on your closing date, or some other kind of delay that can be costly time and monetarily speaking.

After roughly a year of searching, with about ten months searching in earnest, my wife and I finally closed on a house yesterday.  It was roughly a month from acceptance of our purchase offer to closing, which is a very aggressive time line.  However, this was out of necessity.  Our nine-month apartment lease is over this month along with the storage unit we have packed with most of our belongings.  So, any delays in moving were not really possible.  Further, this meant everyone (Realtors, inspectors, mortgage brokers, etc.) needed to be synced together to ensure no hiccups.  I was the one who did this.  It felt like a second job, and with the amount of hours I spent on it you really could call it just that!  But it's done.  We changed the locks and will move in next weekend.  It has been a thrilling and emotionally draining experience.

Having completed the purchase of the house, everything should be in order, right?  I should be able to just go back to writing and pursuing this dream of mine...  Yes, and no.  There is still much to be done.  This next week is clean-up and painting time, and next weekend will be the big move.  This summer will be filled to the brim with activities of weddings, reunions, etc.  My work has been slightly more time-consuming. 

All of this will be a drain on the amount of time I have to write.  But I resolve to make it work regardless.  In fact, I sent off a packet of poems to the New England Review roughly a week ago.  That means that I should have a response as next week, but as late as the middle of August.  They stipulate a response is highly likely within a twelve week time frame, but that's no guarantee.  In the meantime, I am continuing to work on my chapbook, which is tentatively titled "Cynicism & Sleeping at Work."  I was planning on sending the work out to a contest before the end of the month, but it seems this will not be likely.  Therefore, I need to find some other outlet for it.  Any suggestions?

Otherwise, there is a novel I continue to work on, but it only has a rough title I do not wish to share.  I am not good at writing longer pieces, so I do not plan on even sharing the premise of the novel until I am fairly confident that there's hope of it being finished.  Keep your fingers crossed please!

I will try to keep in touch on this, but since I have never received a comment from anyone, I will assume that no one reads this.  Which is just fine by me.  Maybe one of these days I will have an audience who demands me to keep in touch....until then, so long :)

Well, ok....

I'll admit it.  I've fallen off the wagon again.  Not with alcohol or anything serious like that.  No, I've fallen off of the "Write in my blog frequently" wagon.  I have not been able to keep up with everything that is going now.  So, I will give an update to show how busy things have been:

Bought a car (which did not take that much time up really)
House hunting (a full time job....seriously)
Finding a house and getting an accepted offer (so much paperwork!)
Getting ready to go to NYC this weekend
Started writing what will hopefully be a novel-length story
Continue to piece together a chap book of poetry to submit in a contest (less than three weeks left!)
My regular job (which has been busier at times)
Rehearsals/practice for orchestra band concerts

That's about it....but it keeps me so busy.  Mainly the house hunting part does, and that might soon be over with this week.  We have an accepted purchase agreement, and now are in the final stages.  Keeping my fingers crossed for sure!

So, once again, I apologize.  Once again, I will say I will try to be better at this.  Once again, I probably wont be as other time consuming things will take the place of house hunting.  So I apologize in advance for it... :)

Too much time on our hands...

I don't think I am the only one to notice this, but the more technology moves along, the more I realize we just have way too much time on our hands.  From vids about cats standing up, rants about celebs (as an every day post), to photos of your nasty number 2s, people just seem to think that since the web allows the posting of anything (so long as it doesn't break a major law), it then becomes an imperative that they do so.

I just thought I would put my two cents and say wtf (which means why the face, right?) to the following:

http://www.boredtohell.com/

http://www.mystupidwebsites.com/

http://www.ratemypoo.com/

and this list could go on.  By the way, the first two are websites that links to other websites that are supposedly stupid.  I guess anyway to make a buck, right?

Writer, Poet, Liar

Hey, I wrote a small poem that I thought I would put up on here.... a little meat for those who might read this actually looking for poetry!!  I hope you enjoy.................................


Writer, Poet, Liar

I dream of famine,
Though I’ve never known a day of hunger
I write of lust,
But I only covet necessity
I speak of death,
Yet I’ve never felt a blade full to the hilt of flesh

No, my crime is none of these,
But of innocence lost within the wake

Is this really April 1st?

The high is in the 80s.  The low last night was 56.  Today could be warmer than some spots in Florida....what is going on?  It's crazy, and I love it right now.  I have been biking to work and it's glorious.  So wonderful.... I really can't write too much more because I'm going to just stare out my window and the cloudless blue skies!!  Enjoy your time today as much as I will!

Wake Up? ...What for?

After the week that I have had, I find myself falling asleep at my desk.  A few minutes ago, a co-worker just told me - albeit jokingly - to "Wake up!," to which I jumped and turned my attention to her with heavy lidded eyes.  Yet, I couldn't help think as I listened to her, why should I wake up?  I have a horribly boring job at a pharmaceutical company (that shall remained unnamed), and average about five minutes worth of work a day.  Even worse, there are two of us in this position.

Normally, I love being able to have all the extra time, for it allows me to get paid while writing.  If you haven't realized this, not too many writers actually get paid to do just that - write.  Most of us cram hours in here and there, pining for the flexibility and fame that celebrity-status wrtiters enjoy (read: Grisham, King, Sparks, and any other number of widely read authors out there).  But, for today, I just want to doze and attempt to catch up on lost sleep.

So, today, I'm taking the rest of the day off... at my desk.  I'll be here with my head on my hand, seeming to read the same paragraph for the next two hours.  Wish me luck, and happy Friday!

To be drained emotionally...

Is a state I wish I could claim.  Right now, I am way beyond it. The emotions have been so wild in their directions that whenever there's any downtime, it's hard to think.  Period.  That's why I have been having trouble putting up a post on here.  That's why I have had trouble writing.  I haven't picked up a pen for a literary purpose in well over a week, and I feel like I am losing the momentum that I had earlier.

To give you some more insight into why this might be, I digress to Facebook again, where its limited character input is very much aligned to my capacity to emote on the page.

So, instead of getting a house...we have a new car! It's a Subaru Outback, and it's a lot of fun.

That said, Amanda and I didn't enjoy the new car feeling very long. A friend in our complex had her apartment burn down. Quick synopsis...the apartment below had a fire, the department came and went....only 30 mins later her place is on fire!! She's probably lost everything in there. We stayed with her until 2 am, her boyfriend remained.

Who said we were done with the emotional rollercoaster? Oh, and we might have an accepted purchase agreement for a house....but don't get your hopes up yet! :)