Mission Accomplished. I hope you get what you deserve. Remember though, Karma is often paid back ten-fold. You havent even begun to see what Chaos is all about.

So much of the past likes to turn around and bit you in the ass when you think about it. For instance, I have this really kick ass stereo that I paid almost nothing for and I believe to this day that my ex-roomate. Not the Builder, the Effeminate Psycho-therapist stole from me because, I made him move, or at least thats what he thought. Because I refused to move into a smaller apartment and pay more rent, so he could get a fish tank. To add insult to injury the Bitch thought he would power play me and he and his now defuncted girlfriend, from here on out Big Tittie girl liked playing house and I unfortunately was the babysitter. YIKES... anyway.. I am hopefully about ready to win a replacement remote control so my lazyness can be complete.

Update I just won my remote. my day is looking up. I think. Do I go out or just stay here I think I know the answer to that.

Okay I just got back from some of the bestest Food on the Planet: Gene and Judes hotdogs. complemented with the greatest Fruit Punch on the planet Tahiatian Treat. For those of you who dont know either They are truly a chicago orignal.

Some key ideas that came from tonight's sojurn:

Its not overly bad to look into your past and forgive and forget.

One of my biggest faults is that I Dont say the things I should and DO say the things I shouldnt.

Boxer Briefs are not for nancy-boys anymore. (Dont fret: I will never give up the Big Dogs.) Although the Big Dogs are not quite as big anymore :P.

Middle-aged women lust after effinminate carpenters because there husbands are too busy playing golf, and smoking falic-like cigars.

Too much sugar+ Unruly outlet mall crowds and only 2.5 hours of sleep make me Cranky, okay extremely more crankier than usual.

In almost six months of dating, I only blasted my friends significant other once. hehehehe.. to their face... j/k.

There should be a new game out find the hidden homosexual agenda in Shrek 2. Jerry Fawell get your hands off Tinky winky and report for duty...

and if all else fails.

Rename yourself Todd or Loraine, and join the buffet.

I didnt even make it to bed but I had this awesome vision, I was standing at the end of the hallway and it occured to me that If I could somehow run past my body, and into free space I could become free I float within the night and it would make me feel ALIVE, more alive than I have been In an AGE. I dreamed of her again. Her eyes are enblazed in my seoul. I cannot take a breath without first wondering if she is here with me. YUK, meladrama must be the order of the day. But when all is said and done, Guess who is the truly gifted one in this clan. I say Fuck the future, it will take care of itself. Its the past I am worried about, because somehow, someway the past has a way of bitting you in the ASS!

I need to know.... should I change my profile pix? I doesnt do me justice... beside Scot+suit= never a good thing

Ironic isnt it. Interview resheduled due to holiday weekend. Its amazing how much laziness creeps in when it comes to holiday weekends. But the sheduler made it a point to mention how much this dickhead wants to speak to me. Yikes, crow may still be on the menu. I think back to year ago, and how much I have changed. We all have really. The stress of graduating is over, The stress of living in the now is here. I often wonder how much of this could have been avoided if I would have been honest with myself in the begining of 2003. I should have known better to make a deal that I know I would break with myself. I found myself tonight crying for no particular reason, and before I hear anyshit about being a male and crying, I think that Its better to be in touch with your feeling rather than try and hide them, that never ends well. I wished for one thing in July of 1996. I wanted a decade free of grief. I didnt even get five years. I guess I am going to whine tonight. I thought I would feel better If I drank a blue moon. no such luck, it reminded me of a very free but scary time.
No witty proverbs here, No slickass glances across the way. I am here, and I am real. It very easy to look at life when you dont live it and criticize. Everyone has a story of pain. Everyone hurts, Everyone bleeds. Sometimes the hurt you cause is intentional, sometimes its accidental, sometimes its a result of miscommunication.

I often wonder what would have happened if you really knew the truth? The walls that I built for you both have never been higher. I would gladly let you in if you wanted but your too busy deciding how much wrong I am than how much I right I would be. Funny thing is

I dont even think you know I am talking about us. Us is such a interestingly painful concept. Us is like, being willing to sneak into the hospital when your 73 and having your heart attack. after visting hours are up and bringing you your favorite ice cream. Us is playing that song that you hate but I love just because it makes my heart skip a beat when I see you. US..... What is us Really?

I was driven around tonight with a bunch of cds that I made. Talk about an archive of Sad music. I would quote something, but its all sad. Pour on the cure, I need some Love Song... Actually my favorite Cure Song is Pictures of you... 7 mins 2 seconds long... thats probably why you hear it on the radio much anymore.

Whats your Favorite Sad Song? Bang, Bang, Bang, Is this thing on? Do you even know I exist? What happened to that spark? I was broken, I am hole, and I dare you to come fuck with me. Tremont is my home. Nobody drives me from my home. I am hiatus currently but I will be back. I wont be alone. Then you will see what it feels not to be free. Cry baby. How does it feel to be poor white Trash??!

Well where do I start. Well, I guess I should start with Evolution, not the car, not the theory. The movie. Something about Julianne Moore makes the movie fun. Its now almost 3am and I thought I was going to sleep. If I could master removing the pain in my back that acts up everytime I get stressed out I would a much happier person. In just a little of nine hours I will have to be in Lake Forest to interview for a posistion I dont want, Dont need and have to eat crow while doing it. I have a pretty interesting quandry that I face here. I should back up a bit and talk about the situation. For those of you dont know I was laid off because my Company eliminated an entire nationwide team of Six Sigma GreenBelts because they re-defined the job description to include a degree in Industrial engineering. Resulting in a layoff for the entire team save two people. Me NOT included. So I find myself with an opportunity to move to the place I have always wanted to live, and I am happy. The events of the previous years have weighed on my to the point of shear and udder depression. The further away I get from the event the more I realize how much it affected me, and affected how I was dealing with the rest of the world. In talking to a friend of mine the other night, she told me that I had almost overnight because the most self-centered egomanical Prick. Thats posed a great problem for everyone around me that I provide their "rock" of stablility because the very bed rock that they relyed on was crumbling to dust beneath their heels. I seem to find tagents alot. But I think the quote from Edward Bloom, Hero of Big Fish fits here pretty well, ".... I havent forgot, I was workin on a tangent, you see the thing about most people they will tell a story from begining to end without and tangent and it will lack flavor. or something like that.. I guess you have to see the movie, but its when William's Wife is asking to take his picture. Anyway so that brings me to eight hours and a half from now. I have a triple interview for a posistion that is down step for me. To make matters worse, the posistion would require me to work for another person at Grainger whom I have had very strong disagreements with in the past. This person in question was the type of guy that was picked on so much in High School that now that he has some power he wields as if he is slaying the "evil Dragon". People that think they are smart and decide to belittle the underlings I have NO respect for. Well this joker no only insulted me personally, he insulted my manager, my lead and my other co-workers, The second strike this pencil neck has is that even when proven wrong he still maintains he is without fault. So I know find myself having to interview for a posistion in which he would be my direct supervisor. How does one handle a situation like this? Do you eat crow? Do you cancel the interview? Hmmmmm.. I have yet to decide what works as the best in this situation... I really dont know what to do. I will prevail either way... what every my decision, It will be the right one. Quotes like, to thyne on self be true... come to mind...

Am I that desparate for job... Should I work on my first ulcer before thirty. I dont think so, I think I would rather go back to a warehouse, and have less responsibilty and get my mountain back.
My mother's health is the major factor in me staying her. I knew this wasnt the last year(s) of her life I would have never come home.

Someone called me tonight scared and worried I hope they are okay.

I also got this really interesting email... Thanks for the message from Matt... I am going to share it with yawl now:

Have you ever heard a child say, “Hey, that’s not fair”? Sure you have. Well from now on you can quote this famous philosopher. You just tell them this,


“The worst form of inequality is to try to make unequal things equal.”

(Aristotle)

I am sure they will understand.

Pour out my soul late in to the night. I can only try to figure what direction my life should go. Should I continue to Rage?

Since I have returned to Illinois for this visit, I conclude that somes its better to just let go. My soul hurts. This pain hasnt been like this in almost a decade. Time has reset itself and I am again put on this path. I knew this eight months ago, and my reluctance to accept my fate only caused me so much more pain that it should have. Had I let go, and stopped raging I would not be where I sit today. Broke, Alone, and wishing for a chance to start anew.

Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”



Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I do wonder about something. Why all the silence? The biggest lesson the longer you try to silence the past the louder the screaming your dreams when you sleep. I think you know what I mean.

It seems almost too wierd to access this blog everyday and write something. The wonders of having a computer at my disposal again is quite wierd. Hmmmm....

Anyway, Last night I spent the evening with a old friend who alot of people thought would never get her shit together. Well, She is 28 years old has a 6 year old daughter and owns her own home. Brand new construction. I couldnt believe it. I am so proud of her for making when everyone around her told her she couldnt. It was wierd to sit at her house and watch movies and talk. It was like time stood still and it was 1994 all over again. Its wierd the people that stay attached to you for one reason or another, and when you dont really think that have an effect on someones; life until you really talk to them. An unassuming comment or just a simple phone call may made the difference in their existence. I dont want to get all it was the best of times bullshit, because that would be more REVISIONIST history. Because my friend and I certainly fought. Funny thing though, is, that we never really lost contact. She is the type of friend that no matter how broke she is she would give the shirt off her back to help you. I am trying to find a common thread here with all the people I call friends. What makes them important to me? why after a decade to they consider worthy of their very precious time? As the rain is pounding on my window now the rhythm reminds that I can be that dreamer, I can let go of everything I hold dear if only for a moment to catch my breath and remember what fun used to be.

Now that is out my system, I was just sitting here in my very humid house thinking of the Indigo Girls. Oddly enough I was driving home from the city tonight and I heard a song that wasnt by the Indigo Girls but it reminded me of my married friends. August 9,1999 they wed. Just one short year before that the met because of me. Sara was reeling from being broken up with my xfriend joe, and Mike was a new lab partner in physics class. A couple of BBQs later they moved in together and married just shortly after that. Anyway getting back to the Indigo Girls. They did a cover of Romeo and Juliet, and this song came alive. Dire straits may have first recorded but The Indigo girls perfected it. I often think of this song. I havent a clue why. It has nothing to do with love's lost I think. I think its more about a time in my life that I was in that much pain... A pain that I will never recover from, because It happened almost a decade ago. With time are we not all supposed to mellow? I find as time goes on I look at the past and to quote Baz Lehrman: Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia.
Dispensing it is a way of wishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling for more than it's worth.

Maybe this ties in with the idea of revisionist history... No I know it does.. and I know one thing pretty well. I am an asshole. Pompus to the core and I dont think will ever change, This last statement contradicts a previous one. Change or die. Okay I change but I am often misunderstood. The pedestal that I fell from was inevitable. I am broken I have shattered and nobody has bothered to get the dustpan and sweep me up.

It hit my mind like a loud thunderclap. Maybe it was the events of the evening that brought me to this stark realization. No matter how much I try to stave off change.. It happens. A really smart person once told me that I had only two choices, Live or die you cant avoid either. I guess you can avoid living if you really choose to separate yourself out of the main stream of consciousness I know I have written about change before but maybe this because that’s been the only constant in my life.

Tonight I shared some hand cut mozzella sticks with a good friend and we discussed The events that are about ready to unfold before us. How much 2004 maybe 1996. or even 1995. I was asked if I was up to the challenge. I think I say, bring it…. That’s what I do best.

Thank God for Carol Mills, for without her I would have never had the pleasure of reading Irvin Goffman presentation of self in every day life…. Or to a lesser extent Berger and Luckmans Social construction of reality. Such silly basic concept these present to oneself. Its as if these authors figured out a way to tap into everyone’s mind eye to WAIT…. What I am saying… what a total line of bullshit. I cant be possibly writing this…. Godamnit… this post is almost as derailed the Funerals post. Time has been my enemy and my friend lately. I can believe this bullshit that I am writing….

What I really want to talk about is REVISIONIST History.

It amazes me how much people like to rewrite the events of the past so they can make themselves feel better. To me it seems like if we can live in our own little self-created universe that if we prevent the intersection ours with reality life can be blissfully ignorant of the pain of time.

My uncle and aunt and mistake of a son, have proven their perfection of this. I have never seen such a projection of guilt than what is going on there. I did learn something valuable from them all. Truth is what we believe it is. I cannot believe the level of jealous my cousin has stooped to because he thinks that I am “sponging” off his god parents, also my aunt and uncle like he did for the first 19 years of his life. Maybe if he learned that you get back 100 times what you give he would not be such a sad little boy. Sounds like jealousy to me. In fact could it be that his 12.00 an hour job is enough to support his spending habits and Keep his live-in girlfriend happy? I would think not, I mean after all you need to spend at least 30 dollars a week on lotto tickets. I know it would wreck the completion of the familial cycle he so desperately wants mimic. STOP

I need to address the MIMIC aspect here. I have never met someone so good at emulating other people.. The so Called superhero of the week phenon.. I have spoken of in the past. Just because you played at being Hannibal little boy does not make you him. Or is it solid snake? Or is it liquid. Spiderman or Batman? You almost need the local movie listing to figure out what character your going to get. Dennis the Blue? Yee haw.. you are original…. I would have NEVER thought of something that creative. If I am so much distasteful then why still mimic me to this day? This is the part I am confused about. As for Chicago, whatzamatta? Couldn’t hack it in the big city little boy? Wow it only took you 18 years to become your father…. His revisionist History sounds a lot like yours… Weak and pathetic… and if I may have direct quote here, source, from one of several insipid AOL messages … The only two people that matter are now buried in the hill” Please I think this is nothing more that guilt speaking here, because when it DID matter, and you could make a difference YOU chose not to. I lived almost 800 hundred miles away managed to see, talk to be around and care about them more than you did and you lived and 1/8 of a mile away. The cool thing about this whole situation was I able to make peace with them before they passed. How about you? So because you and your “Daddy” missed the boat we have to all pay for that…. I don’t think so bucky… Speaking of being the youngest child, at 50+ years I think its time for your Daddy to grow up. Its not really his fault it is everyone involved. Put simply his behavior was encouraged, and when a bad behavior is encourage it’s the adult that is to blame in this situation. This reminds of another axiom another wise friend always told me….. Becareful what you wish for you might just get it. It seems whenever everyone leaves you and your “House” alone, every time I think of this concept this personally makes me chuckle. It would be amazing if your house, was actually yours, and not a hand-me-down… and before you mention 124, It was paid for in cash…. What can you say about your abode? Anyway.. back to wishing for things… You snipe from your keyboard. Harassing a terminally ill woman because you think your stronger, than she…

I must say you’re really clever…. Is that what that overpriced ivy-league wannabe junior college taught you…. O I can hear it now: classes to ensure the successful endeavor in matriculating here at LVC remember to always go for the multi-syllabic words because its much easy to convince your audience of your superior intellect, no wait you were doing this at 16. Yawn… no really I mean to say YAWN!!!

Anyway… its one thing to attack me… but my mother, what did she ever do to you… Going back to the theory that everyone lives in their own universe and the goal is not to let your universe intersect your I wanna know what creative way can retort this? She gave you exactly what you wanted and she still get shit? Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size bucky… whatzamatta? You like swimming in the kiddie pool cuz everytime you venture out your piss yourself and warm the water back up? Nothing you can say to me can hurt me. Because everything you say is meaningless. I have never met such a person that has no other outlet their anger like you do. What happens when I am gone… who can you be angry at then? At what point will you turn on your parents? How soon will that keystone crumbled to your “house” Then that will you blame? Your mirror must be pretty dirty to look at… All that pain and no outlet for it. I feel sorry for you. Sorry that you must live like this. Go ahead get angry with me… Threaten to kill me. Who says you wont be doing me a favor in the long run bucky?

I am really sorry If I bummed all of you out, But I really meant to write something more uplifting... however given the circumstance its hard to be uplifted when you have so much baggage to process.... Does anybody understand this? Does anybody read this... prolly not. Theres no metatags in this so I doubt its searchable. I have this to say... Why is it that I always have to go 1 million miles out of the way to get home? Do anybody have a good explanation of this?

Cleaning out a hard drive found the last post.
The blog has a new look and and a new title. This seemed to sound much better than the old one because I endeavor to believe that that period of my life is over.
This collision course that I set myself on starting in about August of 2002. (Nifty how it closely relates to the death of my grandparents.) Which in the case of some people that dont know:

I will relate the story: My grandfather died on June 28, 2002, from old age (92 years old) cosciencidentally we ended burying him exactly six years from the day We buried my father. The only fortunate thing about this was that I was already sheduled to arrive in Pennsylvania to drop off a PC that my uncle had me build. I just ended up leaving two days early. Fate also had a very interesting way of working itself out because I had luxury of bringing a friend with me to the funeral. I guess I should mention in the time leading up to this my mother had been serving as the primary care-giver for both my grandparents.(Along with the rest of her brothers and sisters) So I was not only trying to finish up a difficult semester at school, build a computer, but also I was taking care of her house as well as mine. Getting back to the events that eventually were the unraveling of me. My friend was able to take three additional days off to attend the funeral with me. So we ventured off the 13 hour drive from Chicago to Tremont PA. We are greeted by my mother and grandmother whom I should mention was diagnosed with the final stages of heart failure at the time and we were greeted with open arms. I looked in to my grandmother's already dim eyes and knew in my heart of hearts that she wasnt long for this world. Hindsight is ALWAYS 20-20. but my friend and I made the best of the visit.
Having not been the first funeral I had to attend/take part of, I knew that there was a certain level of madness that came with all of the events at hand... planning dinners, reading services etc. and having read at my father's funeral six years previously, I asked if could repeat the reading because the power of words somehow shined out like a beacon offering just a bit of comfort in a otherwise painful time.

Those of you know that I don not going around quoting the bible, but and I often have been quoted as saying that the bible is the "best piece of fiction ever written" But I have decided to include here the verse because I often wake up hearing it in my head... and sometimes forgot where to find it.(yes I must be getting old) so here goes:

There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens.

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to tear down, and a time to build.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them; a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away.

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

What advantage has the worker from his toil?

I have considered the task which God has appointed for men to be busied about.

He has made everything appropriate to its time, and has put the timeless into their hearts, without men's ever discovering, from beginning to end, the work which God has done.

I recognized that there is nothing better than to be glad and to do well during life.

For every man, moreover, to eat and drink and enjoy the fruit of all his labor is a gift of God.

I recognized that whatever God does will endure forever; there is no adding to it, or taking from it. Thus has God done that he may be revered.

Sunday school lesson over now, back to my description of what I can only start to write to arrange the emotions in my head a nearly the two year anniversary of these events.

So I have the support of a very close friend, but I lost one of my closest cousins simultanously to the grief that he felt of my grandfathers death. I am only guessing at this because the six months previous to the Death of my grandparents I began to withdraw from everyone that I loved, My family, my friends, and It was like I was Noah and I was building my emotional ark to weather this familia shit storm that was about to take place.

I get extrodarialy angry with people who take pictures of the Dead lying in their final resting place. I believe that you should have remember the person when their soul is on this plane not looking at the empty carton left behind. I cringe everytime I accidentally reach for the photo envelope and come across a picture of a dead relative. The common excuse for this is closure, Whatever, I should not live in judgement but I guess thats just another one of my human frailites.

Getting back to the shit storm. My cousin's father insisted that we "bury the hatchet" and resolve what it was to be resolved. In this attempt I tried to gain the knowledge of what I did wrong and the best response I got was that I dont know...... My response to this was, "your not getting off that easy." I need to know because how I am to avoid this sitauation in the future. I only find out 18 months later it was communicated back to my uncle as I told my cousin that I was not going to leave him off that easy. Thats a subject for another post, REVISIONIST HISTORY.

Lets talk about July 12 for a minute. a day before it was set for us to drive back to Chicago. I was awoke from my bed with a shriek of horror in which I have only heard the tone once before. The morning my mother called me to Loyola Medical Center the day my dad died. I am reconstructing these events from here on out by stories of what was told to me, so if someone who reads this knows otherwise please let me know.

I slid down the stair on the balls of my feet and flew out to the patio that had become my grandparents bedroom. My mother was crying and sobbing in a way that I knew immediately what was wrong. she looked at me and begged me to Help my grandmother, who was laying on the bed.... luke warm and not breathing....
In a flash I just completed a semester of CPR/First Responder training and it kicked in.... I commanded my mother to dial 9-1-1 and instruct the dispatcher that there was someone that was performing CPR.... My mother choked out the words, and dropped the phone to help me drag my grandmother onto the floor. As we slid the 120 pound woman to the floor her head hit the ground with a loud thump! and cringed and began to asesss the situation.... I began preforming CPR... my mother returning to the phone while the dispatcher tried to calm my mother... My mom, told the dispatcher that she needed to call her family and she hung up.. My mom began dial and I could hear her in the background... I would look up from giving breathes and see another relative enter the room. I had to endure about 10 different looks of horror and tear from each one of my aunts uncles, and their spouses. Tears were pouring everywhere, and I was relentless.. I would bring her back no matter what....
The first couple of chest compressions I could feel her ribs break beneath my palms... the sound of cracking bones still haunt me late at night, because I was "hurting my grandma" but training snaps in and says that broken ribs are mendable, and older people have very brittle bones, and its very common occurance. This is first I have wrote these words out for public consumption, I have spoke about this to some people but this is for all to read. The tactile senstion of the broken bones somehow to this day feels like it was my spirit that was breaking. I dont think I will ever recover from this pain. I dont think I am supposed to. I think this "burden" is mine to carry around forever, I dont feel the need to seek abosultion but I do feel like the one time I could be there for my grandmother, I was not, I failed her. My emotional center somehow feels this whereas my ration mind realizes that I was there for her when she needed me, I was able to bear this burden for her to pass on.
My mother, all the while begged me to help her, and begged me to bring her back... this was going on in the back of my mind and I just turned into a machine, From recollection of other people that were there, I had been performing CPR for about 45 minutes before the abulance arrived. At which point my aunt Linda kneeled alongside me and asked what to do to help. Somehow I kept yelling at her to give rescue breathes..... in breath I feel The next memory I have is standing in front of my house on my cell phone calling my brother to tell him that my grandmother had passed. It was a warm July morning, and I can remember looking at my knuckles that were white, and thinking I was exhausted. I walked back inside as they loaded up my grandmother onto the gurnee... They attempted to wheel out this Very proud woman in her bra and panties, at which point my aunt brenda screamed at the EMT staff to cover her up... Please!! let her leave her house with dignity.

I flash to the ambulance pulling away and the mass exodus to hospital.. How do you get 25 plus people that have just lost their mother/grandmother/mother in law safely without someone else getting hurt. Arrangment made, and I was glad when musical chairs stopped that I had my own car to drive. In the midst of all of this I forgot about my friend upstairs... I climbled the stair, my legs like overstreched rubber bands and I collapsed into her arms. I didnt even form the words Shez gon.. before I released a sampling of the pain I just spent the past hour and 15 minutes absorbing. She agreed to goto the hospital with me and we were off.

The longest 11 miles of my life I drove that morning to the bleak entrance of the "local" hospital, I began to see the familar faces of all my relatives with a look of utter horror on their faces. My mother had alway raised us to show emotion and never bottle up any feelings. I entered the emergency room and to the left of the door was a holding area in which they had laid my grandmother out.

Very few images will be burned like that of my mother standing at my grandmother's head, crying. We all formed a circle around the center of our family. Hurt, confusion, pain, guilty, and anguish filled the room. I tried with all my being to be "strong" but the sight of my mother again so mortally wounded and me emotionally unable to ease her pain caused me release tears for so many reasons. Not necessarly for my grandmother, because I knew she was in a better place, but for her children who werent even begining to deal with the death of their father.

Ironically, my grandmother died exactly 1 min short of two weeks from grandmother. The quote, I will always remember her say after my grandfather died, was, "I am free at last" I can fill my church envelops without anyone telling that I am wrong.

Other moments of the morning that stick in my gullet was that of my uncle that sole concern was how we going to divide up the estate. It took ALL of my composure not the lay him out flat. To this day, I believe this man bears me ill will because I think he believes that I should have somehow saved his "mom". I keep hearing in my head, the quote,"everyone deals with grief differently" Well I guess he gets a pass... but still lingers these thoughts of anger two years later.

The organization of yet another funeral was on the horizon. To ease the pain of this event, A simple call was made to duplicate the funeral for my grandmother in the same way we did my grandfather. While the arrangements were being made, My friend and I returned to the house and I began to clean the house. When I walked into the room where my grandmother had laid, it look as if there was a struggle. I dont know where I got the strength to pull the room together but I made the bed and straighted out the rug and replaced the lap and pushed the displaced furniture back into place.
At this point, my aunt arrived to help clean the house, and as she was cleaning up the kitchen I called to her because I smelled the strongest odor in the world. ROSES, I scanned the room and there was NO cut flower in the house at all.. and I realized it was my grandmother thanking my for helping her crossover. My aunt and I looked at each other I put my arm around her shoulder and we both just took in the moment.

My grandmother was a devote Catholic and prayed to the Virgin Mary every day. Most of the members of my family believe that the roses were the virgin Mary coming for my grandmother, To this I say, if that is the belief you have I will let you continue with that because it is rooted in your faith, and its not my purpose to undermine your faith, but its my purpose to let you know that she is better than okay.

So my two week vacation has now strectched into three and half weeks. I am starting to really appreciate my friend who was able to workout staying another week. In retrospect without her there I would have not had a anchor to this experience, which I have somehow shortened to just saying the "funerals"

The week after the funeral, we travled back to Chicago and knew when I saw the Sears Tower from the Skyway that my life would forever be changed. I began to restructure my attitude to include a more selfish attitude toward life.

I was only home a short four days when My brother and I hopped back on a plane and suprised my mother for her 65th birthday back in pennsylvania. The whole family came over, (not very unusal considering the events of the past month) under the guys of helping pick a tombstone, my brother and I were the last to file in and we walked to the kitchen table and said I like this one. I should also mention that I called my mother from the upstair on my cellphone and told her that I was driving with my friend to get some dinner and she told me it was too loud to talk so she was hanging up. She looked at me, and my brother and started to bawl... Surprised was yelled and we ushered down to the backyard where we decorated it like a little kids party. Props to my brother for throwing this shindig.... After a month of sorrow, a little happiness was in order.

Topics of My grandparents house filtered throughout the family. I knew the day my grandmother died that the house would be ours. because we understood it, not its monitary value but its emotional value, and were willing to make the sacrifes to ensure its contiunation of its long standing tradition.

My did not return to Illinois for almost another two months. In that time she spent this time in the house that was my grandparents. I dont know what she experienced there but my mother was never the same after the "funerals" and each day since I have watch a piece of her die everyday.

One of the blackest nights I have ever seen was the night that I lost you forever. My dreams of the light shining forth to light the way home were gone. No place for me here. No time to spend without looking at a watch. Nothing more than a faint memory of time that when if could be that way it was. I am left here a shell of which I once was because I am alone. In body, spirit and mind. Its long road traveled to get here. My tale is not without woe, grief or anguish, but then again whose isn’t. Any attention to detail that I am paying is not for you benefit, but more for mine. When I am long gone and all that is left of me is pile of papers. The people I leave behind will know that I did care, I did believe and I will be okay no matter what becomes of me. I did learn how to love, even though it was only for an instant

Pardon the last post... a little bit a family feuding to take care of.

I always said I would never quote some cheesy lyric but here goes:
(and I should mention for the record that I really did like this song, I just had a hard time admitting it....)

I hear these two verses, and I choke up...


It's always times like these
When I think of you
And I wonder
If you ever
Think of me

'Cause everything's so wrong
And I don't belong
Living in your
Precious memories
........

And I, I
Don't want to let you know
I, I
Drown in your memory
I, I
Don't want to let this go
I, I
Don't....

like I said in my last post, you can never go home, thats not the point here, and theres probably not I time that this song to come on the radio that I dont think of a much simplier time, before manager to self distruct the best thing that ever happened to me. This isnt a attempt to anything other than to muse about the past. I sorry to see the poopfish get flushed. I am not trying to reinsert myself into a life in which I no longer belong, I just need to put information out like this. even if its ignored, read, flamed, etc... Its there, and like I said in more than one post this is an excerise for myself... a way to assemble the jigsaw puzzle of my mind. I find myself trying to set "right" all the wrongs of the past two years. Some I realize can never be fixed. Much like someone very close to me that is quite ill, I am cleaning house preparing for the big move.. (spiritually, ethirically, emotionally.
I have a lot of time to think about me. Something hasnt happened in a long time and it feels really good. I am having an emotional yard sale so I can get rid of the ugly orange shag carpeting emotions and Move in some nice hardwood floors. I am getting rid of my baggage for nobody but my self. Maybe with some renovation one day I can share my house with someone special.

I think the best part of all this is that my computer use is at a very minmun. My computer is in pieces and no longer boots all of my music etc, gone... for good so its back to the drawing board for that. I havent spoken on IM in a very long time, except when my mom logs onto her computer and my SN pops up. When I do logon, I never see any names I recognize. I assume for the protection of all involved names were changed to protect the innocencent. I would like to make it clear, I am not interested in hunt anyone down via IM, I want my life to have much more meaning than that. I know I was wrong and because of that I will not pester.

Today was very sad for another very close friend of mine. My favorite Rot was put to sleep tonight. She fought a good fight, but that wasnt enough. for those of you who knew Tazzy knew a finicky gasoeous Rott that stolen every boys' heart, I have to laugh in retrospective, Tazzy didnt like female competition, and were reminded of this every time I came for a visit.

I hope another cliche rings true in the wee hours of this moring.....


........ ALL Dogs goto HEAVEN.....

****This is not a effort to return..... I need to put this out for myself to read...... I am sorry

Wooo Who......

It less than two months since I made my last post.

Well here it goes.

Where to begin.. Well lets start with some typical cliches... You can NEVER go home. Its even harder when you get there and realize in less than heart beat why you left. I found myself back in Chicago to clear up a bit of business so I left my mountain home to come visit the corn belt. Lies of the past have uncovered themselves in such a way that the mere thought of them is more like a strong expresso at 3am the jagged little pill know as vicadin.

It took just a little less than two years for my family to spin off into non-existence. It just under five months I have been several topics of conversation, in how much I need to stay out of town. A very violent and libelous buddy profile was made available to me this evening and it completely changed the direction of this post. I want to mention to the White trash emulator (How many couches on yer frunt porch does it take to be considered a red neck?)in question that while I am making a conscience decision to live in Tremont, I could live anywhere in the World, I don't think he could say the same. He will be forever stuck in Tremont to carry on the family tradition of medicorcity. Can we say imbalance? Your absoultly correct in everything you said little boy. EVERYTHING is correct. I wish could be as smart as you. I hate to burst your bubble but the all the buttons you've attempted to push dont work anymore. I am much better person, and as you so Astute in pointing out my stature, Because thats nothing that I havent before. Weight can be lost, Attitudes can be modified, sucess can be achieved, when its done from within, the last year has taught me that. I wouldnt expect you to understand that, you too busy trying project the All the guilt you feel on the people that were there for you when the needed them... because whether your house rises or falls it doesnt affect my life in ONE bit.... Just consider this, the next time you want to pick on someone that is dying.... remember these days because when your on your death bed kharma willl revist you ten fold.

Wow, at the rate I am going I am averaging about two months between posts.

So much time has passed and no time to post, Not really, I think its more of the fact I dont live my life in front of a computer anymore, and that any time I do spend on the computer is not my own computer so I dont have the time or the artistic drive to compile my thoughts in a cohesive matter. Nonetheless, I still manage to journal and although not electronic, its in a brand new journal I received as a joke, bright red with a cartoon character that clearly states, "ITS ALL ABOUT ME..." was this a case of life imitating art or vicsa versa

Most of my family is suprised how non-internet deprived I feel. Not having a computer at all seems like it would be something I could not live without, but I find it almost a blessing in disgquise. Time is on my side again and it feels good to let old wounds heal themselves, Squibbles that I had nothing to do with I am putting to close, Things that have been troubling me seem to right themselves. I had a conversation yesterday with a cousin, Someone that is "gifted" and he confirmed all that I knew to be true. I am now at peace with the ideas that I always knew to be true. Two years of murmered words between our families about the "gift" came to a close within a hour or so of discussion.

The land of Corn, Com Theories and Ottos seems to be a hazy dream in which I often question who that person was? I have never seen a better case of the boiling frog than what I went through in the year of 2003. After running the full gammit of emotions in 2002 I somehow thought I was owed a bit of self indulgence. WOW was I wrong. I spent 2003 making all about me and I ending up starting 2004 with just that.... just me. Nobody else, My life became the inverse of itself almost overnight. Repair must come from within. Nobody else has responsiblity for my actions here. It seems popular to rewrite the events that lead to this and I how however, I am not going to bother. I cannot change what has happened, I can only pick up the pieces and learn from my mistakes.

The view from my bathroom window is timeless. A view of the mountainside, that is timeless as the rock that makes up the mountain itself. I consider its beauty as a blessing, something I dont think I would trade in for a urban setting, or that of a empty cornfield. Here I am anew, Here I do not have to make excuses for my failure, Here I am not scruntinized for having a grounded view of realism. Here, the view Welcomes me without judgement, something that is foreign to me.

Physically I feel different here, I am becoming a new person. Something the cornbelt was preventing I feel, whether it be from a matronly concern or my person demons. I have undergone my own process improvements. This process is like a new day. I feel my efforts paying off, its likely everyone else will to.

As for my Pop Psychology reference, It has nothing to which switch majors, or even the Dig at Communications as a major. I have always recognized the Business-lite path I took, that I need to defend myself, but Coms has always taken the "meat" of theory applied to useful everyday application and discarded the conjecture that was mostly ego driven. Pop Psychology is regarded something that is exactly that, For once the rocks being slung here were not directed at the lingustics, more of a recapped dialogue I once had.

Ditto on the last post. Ironically I have a tendency to forget about this blog. But after I post it seems to be the most saturates write here. 2003 much like 2002 was very trying in many ways. If I were to look back then and know what I know now there is several things I would have changed about it. But that's the good thing about the past, you cant change it, you just LEARN from it, and learn I have.

I would have thought that living through as much tragedy as I have had in my life, I would have been immune to its effects. Apparently that is incorrect. Every time its different. The circumstance in which you look each experience leads you to the next in which you tested in a different way. I guess the one blessing/curse I have in this is that I have the time to prepare, because when the time has come to for me to deal with this tragedy I will know that I have done all that I can to make the best of what time I have, versus, lamenting the time I don't.

The turn on events that have occurred in December allow me to have a moment of pause. Living out of Illinois made me realize some really important things. Things that your not presented with until they are gone. When it comes to taking your last breathe, and you revisit the events of your life, the race is with oneself.

I don't know how often even read this pharse of a journal or even if this for my own demons. I guess it really doesn't matter, I know this exists and that is all that matters.


I think its all a matter of prospective, and when the view is skewed, what once was great is now sinister, and what once was sinister is now great, Positive energy aside, Realism will win out, Pop psychology, empty rhetoric, and false icons are mere crutches to cloak ones' inadequate limited prospective on creation.

Emerson put it a bit more poetically when he said:

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.