Last to know

I tell you, if it wasn't for Facebook, I wouldn't know shit about what is going on with my dad's family. Yeah, I know....aren't I his family too? I guess the fuck not. But it just goes to show how he likes to forget about his older kids.

I just found out - thanks to Facebook and my step mother posting - that my baby sister is sick and is going into the hospital tomorrow for tests. You would think my Dad or even my step mother would have called to say something. WTF!

I might not be close to step mom...we are pretty much the same age and its kind of awkward...but she knows that I love my youngest brother and sister as much as I love the rest of my siblings. She knows, or maybe she doesn't, how Dad shuts the rest of us out. She could have called.

Fuck! I'm not sure if I'm more angry at them or more scared for my sister.

Arrghh...whatever. Fuck the 'rents.

Pray for my sister, please.

From the outside in

The world outside my window is insane. Somehow, it matches the chaos that's in my head.

So much for that.

Other news...my sister wants to be a guest blogger here. I'm all for it. So when she decides she wants to write, be warned. You will laugh and you will step back and say whoa. What can I say, she is my sister.

In the meantime, here is my world...on the outside...

16th Letter. I want to remember

It has been sixteen years to the day, hour, minute, since I got the phone call that changed my life, my belief, my world forever. Sixteen years since they told me you were gone.

I miss you.

I had a few rough years. Losing you shattered my belief in God. It shattered everything I thought life was supposed to be. Sometimes I still struggle to understand why God took you from us...from me. Maybe I shouldn't be so selfish, but I loved you so much.

I'm afraid that I will forget you. I'm afraid that if I don't try so hard to see you in my memory that you will fade away. I need you in my life, though. From you is where I pull my strength and without it, without you, living would feel pointless. Please help me remember.

Remember that song I wrote about you? The one I sang to you at your grave? I don't cry anymore when I sing it but it still hurts as bad to do so. I sang it on your birthday at Grandma's on Thanksgiving by request. Aunt Pam got it on DVD and now everyone knows; She gave them all copies. Everyone knows how much I love you and miss you. I'm okay with that now, but I still won't let them see me cry.

This past week was a little tough. It felt like everything was colliding inside. I'm so far away from where they buried you. I know that is not where you really are, but when I'm there, it feels like I know you can hear me clearer. I really needed to talk to you. I really needed your advice. And I couldn't get there...so I did what I could here.

Thank you. I'm sure it was you last night...the quick cool breeze that blew the hair from in front of my eyes as I sat on the couch thinking of you. You always pushed my hair from my face. You made me smile, and that was something I hadn't done all week. I really needed that.

I know you are someplace better. I know you are where you are supposed to be. I have finally come to a truce with God and God's mysterious ways. But it doesn't stop me from missing you like mad. It doesn't stop me from loving you.

And please don't let it stop me from remembering you.

B

Time to create...me

Its true. I never lack for compliments. But sometimes, those compliments, they fuck with my confidence.

Am I really as beautiful as J says I am? Am I really the angel my mom thinks I am? Am I really the Starr my grandmother tells me I am? Do I really have all this talent? Because they say it, do I have to believe?

I don't strive for anything anymore. Sadly, I've never strived to be beautiful at all. It wasn't my thing. Unlike my mother, I didn't try to make the outside look like anything other than what it looked like when I crawled out of bed each morning. I was reckless and a mess but it didn't stop them from telling me they thought I was beautiful. And I didn't care then and really still don't, but maybe I should. Because when J says it, when Starr whispers it, when MM told me all those years ago...they really mean it. They believe it. And if I don't believe, doesn't that make them liars?

The angel of her heart she says. No matter how hard I try, I don't feel it. And I'm sure I have no halo or wings but when I tell her this, she just smiles and says that not all angels have wings but it doesn't mean you can't fly. And that Starr she sees. I wonder if she will still see her when I tell her that I'm as gay as her other two grandchildren that she says she "lost".

Everything is shot. My perception, my confidence, my belief that I am what they believe I am. I just feel so...wrong. And I'm afraid people are going to get hurt or maybe I'll just end up hurting myself. But I need to be more than just their Beautiful Talented Starr of an Angel. I think I fucked up and I think that the only way I can redeem myself is to find myself again...without looking through their eyes and words.

I might not need those wings to fly but I do have to believe I can.

Brody is back

Brody pulled through just fine.

She made me feel so awful this morning on the ride to the vet. She was shaking so bad that I swore I heard her bones chattering. And then, when they separated us in the office, she stared at me with her eyes as big as golf balls and her tail between her legs. I felt like I was the worst person in the world.

We got her home around 5:30. I didn't know whether I should have laughed or cried at her wobbly walk from the truck to the front yard. Maybe tomorrow I can laugh about it.

Right now, she is curled up on my pillow watching me carefully. I bet she thinks I'm going to leave her like I did this morning.

I am sure glad all of this is over with.

Aspen is drunk

Today, we took Aspen to get spayed.

Bright and early, we drove her to the vet. She loves to ride in the truck but it seemed she was a little nervous this morning. I guess she was feeling us already worrying. See, she has a heart murmur and, although the doc said she would be fine, J and I were still basket cases.

Yeah, we were a mess.

J went back to sleep when we got home, but I was too nervous to even try. Luckily, a friend was online and kept me talking to keep my head busy.

I held off calling to check on her for as long as I could. When I finally did call, they assured me that she was fine. Whew!

We went to pick her up around 4.

Yeah, I knew she was really fine when the very tall and very kind male assistant at the vets office came out of the recovery room shaking. With a nervous voice, he practically begged me to follow him because Aspen had decided she didn't like him any more and was growling at him. That's my girl.

She hasn't left my side since she has been home. She is all wobbly and droopy eyed. I'm sure once the pain medication wears off, she'll be pissed as hell at me. She'll probably chew up something that she knows I love and then use the bathroom on my pillow. She's is a smart ass like that.

At least she is okay. Tomorrow, her sister is going in for the same thing. Another nail biting day.

The cult behind high school basketball

A little background about J. She is a basketball player. She played from the time she could walk until she graduated high school. An injured knee her senior year stopped her from pursuing the game into college.

From what I understand, she was pretty damn good. Both of her parents have told me stories of her game playing days. I have only seen her play one-on-one games against some of our friends...and those friends are still whining about how bad they lost. So...yeah, she is good.

I've mentioned before that this is a small town. Since she signed up for Facebook, it seems she has been friended by her entire graduating class (the whole hundred or so of them) and then some. More than a few of them are the girls she used to play basketball with. Only one did she consider a close friend.

I met HH last night. We made plans to meet up with her at, what else, a basketball game between their Raiders and the next county overs Indians. Supposedly, these Indians have always been a huge Raiders rival.

I admit, I am clueless when it comes to basketball. I never gave the sport a chance until I met J and I'm still not a big fan. Hell, I'm still trying to decipher the rules. Ask me all you want about hockey or football but prepared to be confused if you ask me about basketball.

We met HH at the door of the high school. HH = blond, thin, and tall. Like 6 foot tall. J is taller than I am, too. But 5'9" is hardly 6". Needless to say, I felt like a midget. I'm 5'7" in my sneakers but I still felt little compared to them.

Small town politics in the Southern states is strange to me. I played softball for four years and our biggest fans were most likely our parents. I really do not remember any of my high school sports teams having a huge following. Here, in hick ville, Georgia...its something of a cult following for any high school sport. Yes, I said high school. And its not just any sport, its all of them.

Since HH lives in the Indians county and she is pretty involved with the county sports leagues, we had to sit on the Indians side. I was going to question this since both J and HH are Raiders alumni and I couldn't grasp the concept of supporting the other team. But before I could ask, I got my answer in the form of a crowd of very big men as we tried to make our way through the people.

"Hey, HH," one of them said. "I know you a Raider but you live here now. You sittin' on this side, right."

It wasn't a question and I knew it. I'm glad very few people know where J and I live because we would have had to sit on the Raiders side, leaving her old friend to fend for herself.

Now, I mentioned the cult following and I wasn't kidding. There were more than a few times I thought that things were going to turn violent. I completely understood the need for the ten or so police officers. By the end of the girls game, I was sure those officers were going to be needed to escort the refs from the building.

The home team Indian fans were pretty brutal but the Raiders fans came right back at them. As small as the auditorium was, the noise level rivaled the NFL playoff games. The home teams die-hards were dressed in raincoats and a few of the boys had blond wigs on. (I have no idea.) The visitors proudly wore their bright orange and blue. Some things were pretty funny, like the way the Raiders fans turned their backs on the Indian teams as they were being introduced. Or the way the Indians would chant, "Awwww....sit down."

In the last few minutes of the boys game, the ref gave the Indians a technical foul for their fans. A minute later, he ejected the raincoat wearing fans. Yeah, I'm glad I wasn't that ref. An officer escorted a few more people out and an eerie quiet fell over the auditorium. Yeah, we took it as a good idea to leave. The calm before the storm had electrical anger fueling it.

In the end, the Lady Raiders lost but not by much. The boys annihilated the Indian boys. When we left, the score was 79 to 47. I'm pretty certain that leaving early was the smart thing except for the fact that a few of the ejected fans were still outside raising hell. I think the cops handled them well.

High school sports. Who would have thought? Crazy. It could almost be compared to a Dolphins/Bills game or even a Flyers/Bruins game. This place just keeps getting more interesting every day.

Mad surf

I can't believe we missed this. What were we thinking, Starr?

Sick!

Such is life

Rainy days.

Dim light through the window from the cloud covered sun.

So quiet.

Book firm in my hands as I can't wait for the line I read next.

Aspen (big dog) is curled up beside me.

Her warmth is comforting in storms electrified field.

A small bird. Effortless glide.

It lands in the bush just outside the glass.

Its song faint but I hear it just fine.

I tilt my head because I know this tune.

I hum along with a smile and agree...

Life is good.

Set the scene...

Driving one of my roomies to his GED class in an old S-10, my brain was infiltrated by old TV show theme songs.

Me: (Humming then abruptly stopping when I realize what I'm humming.) Oh my God! I'm humming the "Mr. Ed" theme.

RS: (Laughing) hmmm...

Me: I have no idea why this shit pops in my head.

RS: (He makes some kind of grunting noise that makes me want to hurl.) hmmm...

Me: Maybe its a warning. Maybe there will be a horse in the road or something.

RS: (shrugs) Maybe. Hmmm....

Me: But if it starts talking to us, I'm pushing you out the door and saving myself.

RS: (Laughing so hard, he starts gagging and hacking.)

Me: (Thinking that he really doesn't know that I'm NOT joking.) *singing* A horse is a horse... Maybe if I sing it, it will get the hell out of my head.

RS: (grunt) hmmm...

Me: (thinking that he needs more than just a GED class. Is grunting all he can do?) *humming the theme from "Lone Ranger"* Jeez! What is with my head today. Isn't there something better than TV tunes that can get stuck in there?

RS: hmmm....

Me: (Thinking he is stuck in the caveman days when all they did was grunt.) I know what it is. This fucking headache has got my brain in some kind of retro geek-ville. I didn't even watch those damn shows. *humming another tune from another old western show* At least its not that damn "Delilah" song. I hate that fucking song.

RS: Oh, that "Hey there Delilah" song?

Me: (Oh shit! He knows a few words. Paranoid that he speaks, I search the upcoming roads for a talking horse.) Uh huh.

Now guess what is stuck in my head....hmph.

Ut oh...

I have one of those crippling migraines today. The kind where little movements, sudden light changes, and whispering noises are excruciating. Yeah, one of those. I hate them because it makes me feel like my brain is mush. It makes me feel like my head is caving. Arrgh.

In the news...I just found out that my ex sister-in-law has moved into my neighborhood. Actually, she is just a few streets away. I'm torn over this. I really like her but I know what her loyalty to her brother is and a little part of me feels like I can't just hang out with her and be myself because she will be reporting my every move back to him.

No, I'm not just being paranoid. My ex is my stalker. Truthfully. Stupidly on my part, when he friended me on facebook, I accepted. Big mistake. He is now friends with every friend I have on there...even the ones he doesn't know or claimed to have hated when he knew them. My friend KC is a good example of this. (Why the hell did you accept, KC?)

He has been my shadow since our divorce over 9 years ago. Somehow, he has known everything I've done right when I was doing it. My guess is that he questions my family. I know my mom wouldn't breathe a word to him (even though she feels he is some kind of bodyguard for me) but I know my brother would tell him whatever he wanted to know.

The ex is always in my business. Always. And all my attempts to shut him out have failed. It pisses J off but she knows that it is none of my doing. Hell, it pisses me off too. It will be worse if his sister is right down the road from me. Not only will he be able to ask her what I've been up to (very small town, remember) but this also means he will be visiting. He's not a person I want in my neighborhood. Although he tries to pretend otherwise, I know that he still holds a grudge against J. I don't feel safe knowing that he could be lurking around watching me. He used to lurk around my house when I lived in Florida. Yeah, its freaky when you see your ex driving down your street in the middle of the night with no lights on and your outside walking the dog.

J is not tough and he is triple her size anyway. After 12 years and some pretty physical fights with him, I'm sure I could hold my own for a little while. (I know his weak spots.) But one punch from him and J would be broken. (Some butch I've got, huh.)

I guess I will just have to wait and see how it all plays out. I'll talk with his sister and if I feel she is going to be a problem, I will do my best to stay clear of her.

Now I have to talk to J and tell her what is going on. Not fun.

Happening

I started really editing today. Its one of the first books I wrote a few years ago. I figured that I would start with my oldest stories and work my way forward. It turns out that it is a great idea because the story isn't so fresh in my head and its like I'm reading for the first time. Kind of. I suck at explaining things sometimes.

I remember the characters and I know what happens but figuring out how I got to that point is a bit fuzzy. And that fuzziness is just what I need to get a fresh look at the entire story.

J and I have been looking for a vehicle. I think she is pretty much set on getting a Tahoe. Me, well...I would rather have something more fuel efficient. I loved my '07 Civic and wouldn't mind having another one. But she loved my '03 Tahoe more.

J is kind of...hmm....strange I guess. I understand her concerns on safety when it comes to cars but she seems to take it to another level. (I have so lost the argument about getting a motorcycle. She would rather me get a dirt bike.) For instance, she once was told that Jeeps flip easy. Since the person didn't specify which Jeep they were talking about, she honestly believes that it is all Jeeps. I tried to explain that it was the early versions of the Wrangler, but she won't hear it. So the really nice Cherokee Sport that I found is out of the question.

There were several cars that I found. Like a nice Pontiac G6 with very low miles and a decent price. She wouldn't even look twice at it. Instead, she shows me these Tahoe's and Yukon's with over a hundred thousand miles that are more expensive than the newer cars with lower miles that will be much cheaper on gas.

She's driving me nuts with it all. Today I told her that if she was interested in a gas guzzler, then I might as well go back to my '09 Chevy 3500 Silverado Dually. Out of all the vehicles I have ever owned (excluding my '71 Cutlass), that one was my favorite. I should have kept that thing instead of selling it with the business.

Maybe I will just sneak off and buy that damn GSXR I saw in the paper and just let her buy whatever the hell she wants. Except, I know if she buys a piece of shit, it will be me that is out there working on it (I used to build race cars and such) and I'd rather not get grease under my nails anymore. I left that part of my life down there in Florida.

torn

We have these friends. Straight friends. They are pretty fun to hang out with most of the time. Well, all of the time as long as they are not fighting. They are both short little shits...he maybe hits 5'3" and she is about 5'1". They make a really cute couple.

She is funny. Its hard to catch her without a huge smile on her face. And she is sweet, in an innocent kind of way. But from experience I know...she's not so innocent.

He tries to be funny. He breaks through every once in a while but not often. He is a little too much of a know-it-all and him and I clash sometimes. But it never gets out of hand. We are just opposites really. I love the Dolphins...he's a Bills fan. Rivals in the biggest way. Its usually just little stuff like that.

Thing is...he is a Pisces. I'm Sagittarius. There are only a select few...a very select few...Pisces that I actually get along with. (I was with one for 12 years and hated almost every minute of it.) I'm pretty sure thats why we clash so much.

There is one thing that bothers me about him that could very well get out of hand. He is a cheater. Its more than obvious to the outsiders in their relationship. There have been occasions where we have seen him around town with other girls.

For some reason, he seems to think that I'm one of his buds. He seems to talk to me much more than he ever has talked with J. And when he talks, he talks too much. Tonight, we were talking about movie directors (clashing) and out of the blue he started talking about how he and some of his guy friends were calling escorts. And why do I need to know this?

We spotted him one day in the next city over with some girl in his car. He was going one way and we were going the other. He knew we saw him because he waved at us. Later that night, he called and asked if it was us that he seen saying that he was giving his "boss" a ride to work. Bullshit. Once we were riding in his car and the windows fogged up a bit as we were driving. I noticed writing on the window. It said, "Love you, Bob. Love Estell." Stupidly, I pointed it out to him and he made some bullshit story up about how the girl must have ridden in the car before he bought it but couldn't explain his name. I should have just kept my mouth shut and let his girlfriend find it.

I'm not a cheater. I have never cheated on anyone I have ever been with. Its just not my thing. As much as I hate knowing that he is cheating on his girlfriend, I really don't think its my place to say anything. I mean, they have been together for a few years and for all I know, she cheats too. I really don't think so but if she does, she is damn good at hiding it. This town is real small. Its hard to sneeze without everyone knowing.

Anyway. I was wondering, tonight, if he tells me these things to see if I run off and tell his girl. Or maybe he tells me these things to try to cover his ass or something because he always makes it sound like its just his friends doing it and he just watches. One thing that really bothered me about tonight was the way he was talking about this escort. He had that blank look in his eyes like he was picturing what he was saying...how, "she was so damn hot. I'd be more than happy to pay $200 an hour for that. The things I would do..."

I was more than a little disgusted. But I still don't know if I should be telling his girlfriend what a scumbag he is or not. (God knows I really want to.)

So yeah...that was my night...hmph.

New toy!

I did it! I convinced J to take me to the Apple store and I'm now the proud owner of an iMac.

And so far so good. I am making the transition pretty smoothly. Although, it did take me about thirty minutes to figure out how to eject a damn CD. Not funny.

Some of the really cool features: Garage Band. I haven't used it yet but from what I understand, J and I will be able to hook up our instruments and mics directly to the computer and mix/record it all. From there we can put it up on iTunes for sale. Sweet, huh.

Photo Booth is pretty cool. At the moment, my desktop is covered with the silly ass pictures we made with it. No...I'm not sharing.

I got iWorks too. Unless the sales guy lied, I should be able to download all of the books I have written and be able to edit them even though they were written in Word. And J made me promise to edit at least one of them and submit it for publishing within 30 days. (That was how I got her to drive me to the place to get this thing.)

As far as the other features...well, I'm still playing with thing. So far...I love it.

Snow slide

Another day down, another day without my comp. Hmph. J...hint, hint.

Good news is...its warming up a little. Key words: a little. It won't last long though.



It has been too cold to stay outside for too long but it did snow a little. And, well, I can't resist the snow. A few years ago, my grandmother gave me this disk thing called a torpedo. She had bought it for us adrenaline junkies (me and my cousins) so we could slide down the mountain behind her house when it snowed. When she moved, it became mine.





As soon as the snow covered enough of the ground, I was out there. It was dark and of course J was panicking. I didn't torture her for too long but first light, I was out there again. I couldn't resist the driveway.


Believe it or not, I actually got J to give it a try. I don't care what she says, I know she had as much fun as I did. And guess what...no broken bones and no stitches were necessary. There were a few bruises though but they were totally worth it.

I think I'm going to try to subliminally convince J that she needs to take me to Atlanta tomorrow. Wish me luck!

This means war

My time on the computer has been limited. Thanks to my wonderful, loving girlfriend. Yes...I blame her for my lack of posts.

See, I have been wanting to upgrade my computer. Honestly, I'm tired of Microsoft and Windows and all that. I have decided to switch to Mac. J and I talked it over and agreed it was the right thing to do for what I had in mind for it. I know that sounds cryptic but its the way it will have to stay.

So we agreed. And I gave my old computer away. Yes...it is gone since Christmas and I still don't have my Mac. Why? you ask. Because J is the biggest and worst procrastinator.

It actually drives me nuts. She is like this with everything and honestly, it is starting to piss me off. And what is worse...I can't tell her that its pissing me off. Because, really, I don't do pissed...EVER! If I told her she was actually making me mad she would most likely laugh, thinking that I was telling her a joke. I can see these things and I know her well.

And here I am at 10:30 at night, finally getting my time on the computer.

And I am pissed!

Seeing red in the white

The world around me slowly turned to white. She loves the snow as much as I do. And her eyes...the brightest blue...when she smiles took my breath away. Again.

I have to apologize. I hardly ever get angry. Maybe that is a mistake on my part. But today, all the pent up anger I have toward them simmered dangerously in my eyes, in my movements, and just on the tip of my tongue. She knew. She saw it, read it, felt it. Even through my denials.

"I've never seen you like this," she says. And I knew that it was no use trying to control it any longer.
I spoke the truth of my hate and watched as she shook and the sadness took over her eyes. But then she smiled and whispered, "I love you."

Words to live by. Words I live by.

Actions make words

I don't remember when the movie came out but I do remember watching the first time cuddled up with J on the couch. The movie is "P.S. I Love You."

As sad as the movie is, it is still a great love story.

This morning, J and I watched it again. This time we weren't cuddled up but we were at least in the same room.

So it gave me an idea.

I don't have to be dying to be that romantic. And why wait until one of our lives is knowingly ending to show each other that kind of love.

Yes. I have a plan. And I think we might need passports.
I think J might have been right. This will be the best year of our lives so far.

P.S. This is going to be so hard. J doesn't care too much for spontaneous anything.
P. S. S. Well, she's just going to have to learn to love it! We only live this life once.

(As I solidify the details, I put them in here. But none of you...that means you CLC...can breathe a word of it to her.)

2009 in retro

Looking back at 2009 for the last time...what I learned and what I realized:

No matter how hard you try to hide, the people that love you most will always find you.
And those people are the only ones that matter.
The quiet life living in the country isn't as bad as I once thought. It took me all year to realize this.
My year of NO work proved to be rather productive...creatively. I've renewed my love of drawing and music and planted a solid foot in the writing world.
I learned how to beat my insomnia. It cannot exist if I don't believe in it.
I realized that an organized work space leads to an organized mind.

I noticed that this list is much shorter than 2008's list. I'm still not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
I do know that I love living worry free. Not having a business to run, no deadlines, no fuel bill, no more phones ringing 24 hours a day, no dealing with traffic...its absolutely amazing. I honestly physically feel lighter.
I know that I hate fast food. I have no idea how I lived on it for so long. Just say no to McDonalds!

Most of all, I feel like I love life again. I'm looking forward to a great year. To quote J, "This will be the best year of our lives yet!"
I believe.

Back on the air

*Bang, bang, bang*

Is this thing on?

Oh!

Hey, remember me? I hope so.

Its a new year and a new chapter in the adventure some call life. I'm back in town and back on the air and will be back to posting on a regular basis as soon as I can get my lazy ass in gear.

In fun news...I had my first white Christmas. And what better way to experience it than with family (although my Mom almost drove me nuts. Thank you Lil White Pills for keeping my head intact.).

J met us half way and brought me back home and then it snowed here! Me being the junkie I am dug out the torpedo disk and slid down the mountain in the dark. Fucking fun! Except J was freaking out yelling, "That's far/fast enough. Roll! Roll!"
She really doesn't like it when I do dangerous things.

So as one of New Years Resolutions, I figured I could try to stress her out a little less and keep my daredevil stunts to a minimum. But I can't stop completely and luckily, she understands this.

Well...soon to be back to your regularly scheduled program on the Life Of Times network!
Until then...