Chasing a Trail of Smoke and Reason

I've moved!

2009-06-28T22:16:00.001-04:00

To anyone that may have been reading this, I have moved here. I hope to see you there.

Updated...

2009-05-22T22:53:00.003-04:00

I did manage to survive that 'swine' flu that was going around. Yay!

I'm taking a couple courses this semester and blah, blah, blah. Replace blah, blah, blah with work.

In other news, the cat went into heat. That's not a euphemism for anything fun regarding humans. Literally, the cat is in heat and my cat (the male) is proving to be rather ineffective right...now. Humorously enough, there was a clip on the TV a moment ago about the "Summer of Love." The background image was, of course, a male lion standing over a lioness.

Appropriate.

The universe has a strange sense of humor (if you keep your eyes open and sometimes when you try to keep them closed).

Until next time...

Flu

2009-05-05T18:54:00.001-04:00

The flu is taking me out of commission. Better than being kicked in the junk though.

Miserable

2009-04-28T20:30:00.002-04:00

I am in a miserable mood right now. No good reason for it either.

Stupid Tuesday feeling like a Monday. *Grumble*

3 Wonderful Things

2009-04-11T19:35:00.002-04:00

I dragged my four year old to the National Museum of Natural History this morning. We metro'ed in (which he loved because he likes trains) and then walked in the rain (which he also enjoyed because he loves puddles.

Why the Natural History museum? Dinosaurs, of course. He is a typical boy that way, too.

So, over the course of the day he said three wonderful things (wonderful in that I enjoyed them):

1. When the Dark is tired, the Sun comes up.

2. We saw BIG dinosaur teeth, BIG SHARP TEETH that will bite your fingernail off and then you'll bleed so when we see those dinosaurs, that's why we RUN. We run fast. We run into the parking lot and then into the grass and the trees and we hide. We hide from the BIG SHARP TEETH.

3. I love you, daddy.

Adam's Date

2009-04-07T22:34:00.002-04:00

Adam rolls his eyes and looks away, but his exasperation is obviously all for show.

“I met Lydia just a few nights ago. I was trying to forget the whole lot of you, actually, after your Valentine’s Day fiasco. That’s another story, though.

“I was out dancing, having a good time although no one was catching my eye when I heard this deep boom—louder than the bass in the club. I danced my way away from the women and toward the door.

“Outside, a big black hummer was engulfed, just completely engulfed in flames. A crowd was beginning to form and Lydia was in this crowd—though I didn’t notice her yet. I was a little preoccupied with the black giant that stepped out of the blazing hummer like the nothing was amiss.

“Immediately, he registered as abnormal. What Shaq-tall black guy walking unfazed through fire wouldn’t though? Oh, and then there was the big-ass ninja sword he had strapped to his belt. But he just up and walked away, like the sun was shining on him and everything was peachy fucking keen. Hell, I think a butterfly landed on his nose while Mr. Bluebird rode shotgun on his shoulder and three dozen woodland creatures sung and played around his feet as only woodland creatures can. Plus, he was registering as weird; supernatural, I suppose.

“My eyes scanned the crowd and that’s when I saw Lydia, though, I didn’t know her name yet, of course. She, too, seemed a little, off, shall we say? I noticed her, the golden hair, the slightly pale coloring, and her perfect body. I marked the way her eyes followed Shaq when he walked casually in the opposite direction. I watched as she, without noticing me, walked away from the explosion.

“I’m not stupid; I knew she was tied to the explosion. I felt it in my gut. But I chased after Shaq first. It wasn’t until I caught him that I realized he was more Samuel fuckin’ L. Jackson than Shaquille O’Neal.

“That dick had a MASSIVE attitude problem. Major. He didn’t want me tagging along. He threatened to kill me two—no—three times.

“I told him I just wanted to help him out. I told him it wasn’t everyday that I saw a man climb out of a burning hummer unharmed. He told me to get lost. He told me he didn’t want to be responsible for my life.

“It was obvious he was on some sort of mission. I figured that I might actually learn something from him. There wouldn’t be any fighting or bickering. So, I told him I’d help out—if he’d give me a weapon.

“He argued he didn’t want to be responsible for my life. He claimed that his mysterious superiors would kill us both if I were mixed up in, well, whatever he was mixed up in. So, I dropped the only information that could have helped me through the door: I told him there was a blonde woman watching him very intently and that she seemed a little strange.

“He spun around instantly and we stalked off toward Lydia. All the time, he told me I needed to get lost. As soon as we were close enough to see Lydia, he lost interest, spun, and went in the other direction again.

“I figured then that my best chance at learning what had happened lied with the woman. So, I walked right up to her and slipped my arm into hers.

“I said, ‘Where’ve you been beautiful? I’ve been looking for you all night.’ She was intrigued with my forwardness. I asked her out for a drink and she suggested we skip the formalities and just go back to her place, if I were interested.

“With her arms covered, it was hard for me to tell just how much warmth she had. I dedicated myself to discovering what exactly she was, at the very least. So we hopped into her sports car.

“She drove like a maniac. I slipped my hand onto her leg and made small talk. She asked me why I wasted my time with small talk. ‘A good way to pass the time,’ I said. I slipped my hand farther up the inseam of her tight, leather pants.

“There wasn’t much heat. Probably wasn’t any heat, I thought but I couldn’t stop there. That wasn’t enough evidence. So my hand slipped farther up to where her legs met her body. Still no warmth.

“I thought then that my life might be over. I was dedicated to see it through, though. Up the elevator we went to her hotel room.

“We fucked all night long. Her body felt a bit different—cold, of course. She was also hard and strong and pushed me to my limits. I made sure to do the same to her. I had to keep her interested, right?

“Not long before sun-up, her teeth began to prick at my...neck. Apparently, orgasming repetitively all night long, is just the foreplay for a vampire’s meal.” Adam smiles a little, but the smile falls away seconds later.

“Playfully, I told her, ‘I plan on surviving this night, darling, so don’t bite too hard.’ She grabbed my shoulders, spinning me to face her on the bed. Her cold nipples were rigid as she thrust herself against me. Her arms slid down to my wrists, icy, unbreakable steel. She held my arms taught as she traced her fangs longingly against my throat.

“Forcefully, I told her, ‘I will live to see the morning.’ She laughed, pushed me onto my back and climbed onto me, sinking around me, drawing my focus away from the cool chill of her abdomen rubbing against mine, those pert nipples against my chest and my arms, pinned. Her hips distracted me, drawing my mind from the danger and into ecstasy.

“Her hips worked back and forth again and again, until I was moaning. The first tickles of that blonde hair fell across my neck. She was still laughing, even as my voice worked itself toward a crescendo. Her lips were the candy given to my childish neck. Her fangs, the razor-truth of reality, tore into my throat and my cry orgasm became one of pain.

“You cannot imagine a pain like that. It was fire and lightning ravaging the inside of my body. It was glass exploding behind my eyes and frigid talons rending my heart. I only allowed it for a moment but within that moment, I lived and died a thousand times.

“No, you cannot imagine a pain like it. It took most of my strength but I managed to imagine a barrier between myself and her. I imagined her being thrown away from me.

“The thump of her body slamming into the wall of the hotel room brought me back to myself.

“She hissed, ‘What are you?’.

“I said, ‘I’m a real man, the first one you’ve ever met, and I’m still interested if you are, but I will LIVE through this night. When that sun comes up, I’ll be watching it rise.’

“Like a broken record, she whined, ‘What are you?’

“I told her, ‘I have no idea. Why don’t you come over here and help me find out?’ She looked skeptical. I said, ‘Seriously, fuck me now. Then help me figure it out.’ That was all the invitation she needed.” Adam chuckled and adds, “She crossed the room a little more carefully that time. But she had no qualms crawling back onto my lap. I had no qualms about having her there either.

“She was slightly warmer those last few times.

“Just before sun up, I exchanged cell numbers with her. We agreed to meet again later in the week—which became last night. Do I need to go over that again? Or the phone call?”

Adam waits expectantly.

3 A.M. # 94 - Life Story

2009-03-28T15:02:00.001-04:00

I had no idea where to start. Her icy eyes pierced through me and it made me nervous. I’m a guy; I shouldn’t be nervous, but there it was. She just kept staring and I couldn’t help wishing to be elsewhere.

So, I opened my lips and lied.

“We were poor—couldn’t afford much when I was young. I’m an only child and my parents were working all the time.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, they did work all the time but we certainly weren’t poor. I was on the verge of poor now, but hey, that’s the cost of fucking up in life. Maybe she knew it was a lie? Those blue eyes masked everything or anything going on in her head.

“Anyway, we couldn’t afford much so I had to suffer the bullying of kids. Kids are ruthless. Once, I remember, a group of us—or them circling me. Two of them had baseball bats and the rest of them just stood there, arms crossed and glaring.

“Horror writers just don’t know horror. They don’t write about that, and if they knew horror that’s what they would write about. Anyway, that was my childhood. Just like everyone else’s: fucked up.” Did she catch my slip? Did she know that I had been one of the ones with a baseball bat?

It does not really matter because I kept lying. I kept digging myself in further. She just sat there, smugly silent and observant. Bitch.

“I survived it all, of course. Worked my ass off in school. I was loved by every teacher.” More lies. Some pitied me though, foolishly. “I made it into college only the money or scholarships wouldn’t cover everything. I dropped out, started dealing drugs.”

“And now here I am, sitting on a shrink’s couch.”

3 A.M. # 130 - Monotony

2009-03-13T23:26:00.002-04:00

Pressed against the wall, Andrew closed his eyes. They swarmed over the wood chips, the monkey bars, and the swings like tiny, barbaric apes. One bellowed then charged him.

Andrew opened his eyes because of the cry. The brute pumped its small arms forward and back, accelerating toward terminal velocity with surprising ease. Lips parted around feral teeth.

Chip Brewster, that one’s name is, Andrew thought. Chip was six years old, already failing class and known as the meanest red-headed bully around. Chip’s sharp teeth glimmered hungrily.

Chip screeched; Andrew's heart leapt within his chest. The brute closed in and Andrew fell to his knees, curling up into a fetal position. The beast slammed the wall.

Layout

2009-03-12T21:15:00.000-04:00

Yay. New Layout. This is my first (finished) layout. Woo.

3 A.M. #96 - One Moment

2009-03-11T21:26:00.002-04:00

Water pelted the metal sink. He stared out the window into a world bright and young. Hot water scalded his left hand but he ignored it. If the bright world looked in, it would see his nasty grimace.

The phone in his right hand flashed. The ringing repeated ceaselessly. The click, click, clicking of the over-sized wall clock was louder. Minutes passed. Still no answer. His hand blossomed red.

Trembling, he shut the phone off and set it down on the tiled counter. The black clashed with the grainy white of the 1950’s tile.

Click, click, click.

The scent of lemons and cleansing agents danced around his dark mood. His face blossomed red. He lifted the phone from the tile, clicked it on.

Beep. He hit redial and the same malevolent, seven tones played for the eleventh—no twelfth time.

Sore tenderness crept along the heat in his left hand. He withdrew it and the plate from the burning water. The phone rang and rang and rang. Mocking.

He pressed the end button.

His left hand shot out. The plate sailed across the 1950’s kitchen to smash in the living room, above the fireplace. Its white ceramic bits splashed against the stone mantle, chiming like a chorus of windchimes.

The front door creaked open. Her heels clattered against the hardwood floors, slowly.

His left hand reached again into the hot water. Against his battered flesh he felt the solid curve of the kitchen tile.

Her heels tapped impatiently first on the hardwood, then on the checkerboard linoleum. He turned to her, breathing in her scent. Perfume, stale smoke, lingering alcohol, sex and death.

Back in Black

2009-02-10T21:12:00.002-05:00

I was completely done with the other layout. Completely.

It is a bit strange, I'm sure. I do not blog so often but the background really, really needed to change. I have been tinkering around with custom layouts. I'm not sure anything will come of it really.

I suppose we'll see.

Other things on the agenda for this month:

Work
School (homework, yay!)
Certification testing
Crayons' birthday

Feeling a bit cynical. See you next post.

The season...

2009-02-05T11:13:00.004-05:00

...will be over when I say its over!

Seriously, I'm not sure what I am waiting for. Something.

I am around, though. I can feel this blog looming behind me like a creepy, large man with heavy, rancid, hot breath.

Something is coming...

In the meantime, I have kept busy with school and work. Returning to school is always awesome, of course. (Hold on one sec, I need to push my nerd glasses farther up the bridge of my nose.)

I am hoping that work will calm down sooner rather than later. We have had layoffs (of course). Thankfully, I am in a position to avoid most of that. A vacation is needed!

Tis the Season

2008-12-23T21:19:00.003-05:00

I have not been around very much.

Obviously! You say.

I have been up and down with my passion for this 'blogging' thing. Mostly down, of late.

My passion can change on a whim though...so if anyone out there does stop in from time to time, I still plan to post on occasion...

Happy Holidays to anyone out there.

Vacation

2008-11-04T11:42:00.003-05:00

I have been away from work for just about two weeks now. Away from work in a physical way because I have had to remotely access the server once to fix an issue, coordinate for some meetings via email, and lend guidance to a few coworkers via phone and email. Still, all of that only wasted about an hour of my life.

Without work, what does a Parabolist do?

God only knows. There has been a LOT of driving. We (24Crayons, Mr. T, and myself) drove to Dallas, where we spent a few days 'relaxing' with Crayons' family.

My 27th birthday happened to fall within that stretch of a few days. They, along with the aid of Crayons' grandmother and a friend of theirs, set up a wonderful birthday for me. The day began with a powerful massage (that masseuse's hands could apply enough pressure to bend steel, I'm sure).

After the massage, we snacked and rushed about to make it to the Dallas Museum of Art. The museum's major exhibit right now is the Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharoahs. It was an impressive exhibit which, sadly, denied photography.

Once we had wandered through the exhibit and perused the gift shop, we dove head first into Dallas commuter traffic to get all gussied up for dinner. They had reserved a table for us at Nana's, a swanky restaurant on the top of the Anatole. The food was delicious and the apple martini's were loaded.

We collapsed shortly after dinner, knowing that the next part of our journey (another drive!) would begin the next morning.

We raced from Dallas to Searcy, Arkansas for the wedding of one very wonderful cosmopolitan, small town girl. Crayons was a bridesmaid and so was very busy with all those things bridesmaids do that men can never know about. Mr. T and I, in the meantime, hung out with the groom and his men.

It was a great ceremony--all the groomsmen were dressed in kilts. The bagpiper was absolutely amazing and everything went off without a hitch (which is as it should be). I wish the best to both of them.

We left the morning after the ceremony to return home. That's where I am now, stretched out on a couch, trying to enjoy the rest of my time off and just relax. Work begins again soon and it'll be the busiest its been all year due to a very large project resting solely on my shoulders.

Company of the Burning Stag

2008-10-05T15:47:00.000-04:00

Gaming,Dorkiness,DnD,Art

Hi. My name is Ron and I'm a gamer. It has been twenty hours and thirty eight minutes since my last game (as of writing this particular sentence...make that thirty nine minutes).

By gamer, I am not referring to those MMORPGs. I have never managed to maintain much enthusiasm for those games (I grow bored with computer and console games LOOOOOOONG before I ever finish them). No, when I call myself a gamer, I am referring to pencil and paper role-playing games.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter what I like to do with my spare time. The whole setup is to explain that the image I'm linking is actually for my gaming group. I created it, from scratch, for them. Partially, I created it because I wanted to test out some new software that I may end up using for other creative endeavors.

The characters of my player are in a party they have named The Company of the Burning Stag. This is their standard:

I am very proud of the way it turned out.

The Early Bird...

2008-08-26T07:14:00.003-04:00

Been up since 4:30 am. I twisted, turned, somersaulted, and did all I could but no comfort was to be had in my bed.

So, I decided to give myself a morning. I drove out for breakfast, nowhere special, just some place with coffee, peace, and enough space to write a bit.

I hand jotted about two pages which is a lot for me to handwrite.

Leaving the diner, I was struck by the empty parking lot of the mall. The sun was just beginning to come up and it was as if the world had been scoured clean. A profound sense of emptiness hit me and I was reminded of all those zombie movies I've ever seen.

Anyway, I've a couple other things to do before I subject myself to "working".

Good morning, world!

Warm up: Cat Lady

2008-08-24T17:39:00.001-04:00

“Susie? Susie?! Where are you, darling?!” Mrs. Stengel squeaked, her left hand groping about in the darkness. A tumultuous bellow of thunder slammed into the side of the house shaking picture frames and inciting knick-knacks to dance. She steadied herself with one gnarled hand.

Lightning erupted, illuminating the living room ahead of her. Susie was pawing again at the front door. Every time she slipped out of her cage, it was the same thing. She always charged for the front door, always tried to pry it open. Curiosity would certainly kill that cat if she made it outside. That was why Mrs. Stengel had installed a padlock to the inside of the door. Susie had somehow manipulated her way past the deadbolt and the chain last time! No repeats of past mistakes.

“You’re just frightened by the storm, honey,” Mrs. Stengel soothed.

Susie wasn’t buying it. Her head jerked right and left, searching for an avenue of escape.

Mrs. Stengel’s right hand tightened on the metal shaft behind her. “Come on, dear. It’ll all be okay. We’ll just return you to your home downstairs where you’ll be kept safe and sound away from that storm. It certainly is a doozy!” The thunder boomed again, emphasizing the old woman’s words. Her old arm snapped out, bringing the net down around Susie’s head.

Susie whined and mewed as Mrs. Stengel cautiously lifted the net and clamped two fingers tightly on her ear. More mewing. Mrs. Stengel pinched tighter, tossing the net to the side entirely. “Now we’ll just take you back downstairs. You’ll see. It’ll all be better downstairs. You can play with the boys until this nasty storm passes.”

Susie kicked and whined and clawed but Mrs. Stengel’s grip was unbreakable. The door to the basement slammed shut with finality as they descended the staircase. Frustrated minutes passed as the old woman slowly descended the staircase.

The boys were huddled in their own cages, faces turned away. Susie cried out as the door swung open and she was shoved again into the cell. Taking no chances this time, Mrs. Stengel wrapped a chain around the bars and the door and applied a heavy duty lock. “That should keep. No more running away, Susie.” She turned and murmured, “the things I endure for taking in the neighborhood strays.” Mrs. Stengel hobbled up the stairs.

From above, another booming sound shook the house. Once the basement door shut again, Susie burst into tears.

“Don’t worry,” one of the boys—Sammy, she thought his name was—whispered. “Our parents are coming for us. Soon yours will, too. I just know it.”

Warm-up: You Cannot Run

2008-08-04T23:22:00.001-04:00

Only two feet away, rain drizzled into the alley, bombs bursting against the cracked asphalt, scouring the city of its filth. Axe was lost in that photo again, dreaming of that picturesque Hallmark life, that sort of life so few ever attain. Framed in front of a grandiose manse, three beautiful faces stared out of the photograph, a happy husband and wife and their smiling daughter.

Perfection, or at least, damn near it. Better than this place, he knew. The cost was high—it always was. That is exactly why so few could reach that dream.

Axe rubbed his grubby finger along the daughter’s jaw line. He cursed as a smear of grime was left in the wake. He searched for a bit of newspaper, something not smelling of piss or excrement or booze, and scrubbed at the image. Some of the color rubbed off. A tear tugged at the corner of his eye.

Delicately, he gave the picture a kiss and slid it back into the newspaper padding beneath his shirt.

Winters were harder here. Everything was harder here. There was no roof above his head save for the corrugated cardboard box. That roof would melt through tonight because of the rain, he knew. Tomorrow would be spent scavenging for a new home or some temporary fix. Maybe he could beg for a box from the soup kitchen.

Beg. Once, such a low act would have made him cringe. Once. Now, times were different. They said you cannot run from your past. He had to, though. Anonymity became necessity. Axe cursed his fate.

“What do they know anyway?” he questioned the night or the storm. “I’ll do what I want, when I want. Yes, I will.”

A torrent of water suddenly ripped through Axe’s cardboard roof. Startled, he leapt out of the box, slipping on his newspapers and blankets.

Thunder silenced his groans and curses as he crawled to his feet in the alley. A bolt of lightning illuminated his home and the enormous rip in its center.

“Alex?”

Axe straightened; the hairs on his neck immediately erect. Cautiously, he turned his head, casting a glance at the entrance of the alley. A shadow hovered at its edge. “No,” he hissed, spinning. Axe—Alex backpedaled. The shadow stepped forward.

“You cannot run, Alex.”

“I—I—I,” he stammered, still edging backward.

“You gave us quite a bit of trouble. Who could have guessed you, so lazy and glutted on the wealth and perfect life you once craved so desperately, would give us so many problems.” Alex could hear the smile on the man’s face. “Two years! By God, you survived on the street alone and unseen! Tenacity! That sort of tenacity will make you a wonderful addition.”

“M—M—Madeline and Joanna? What about Madeline and Joanna?”

The shadow paused its pacing and held its hands down and out to its sides in a strange manner. “They will live out their lives mostly unmolested, unless they should seek us out as you did. Our dealings are with you and you alone, right now, Alex. You knew the price when you signed. Now, it is time for us to collect.”

Warm-up: Wordy monologue

2008-08-02T14:36:00.001-04:00

“I’ve always loved words—always. There’s a beauty there and a rhythm and, gods, do I love rhythm. Listen to them! See them! If you can, feel them. There is nothing—almost nothing—like their caress.

“Words dance around and around, a wild movement filled with vivid color and razor-edged shape. Description, that’s where it all is. Description is what it is.

“Some people like math but I’m a words person. Words are description! Math is explanation. Math speaks one language—and it’s a beautiful language in its own right because it is universal but math rarely, if ever, describes. Math explains. Math is the musty, monotone teacher at the head of the classroom.

“Words are alive. They’re breathing and showing and telling, too, but more often they’re just out there living and doing and being. It’s so hard to just be, at times. But words do that.”

Warm-up: Flik's Fall

2008-07-31T00:36:00.005-04:00

Just a little warm-up writing (so to speak)...
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He patted the beads of sweat from his forehead and reached for the water skin. The march could not stop here; not beneath the boughs of eternal fire in this damned forest. On all sides the withering branches burned ceaselessly. Curiously, the bard began to compare the blistering, black branches to a child’s stick-drawings. This artist had smeared reds and oranges and yellows across the image.

Another bead of sweat collected on Flik’s brow. They would not stop here, in the thick choking smoke, in the withering heat. There must be a clearing.

The gnome gulped down a mouthful of water. Around him, the weary faces of his companions were cast in a lurid light by the tunnel of fire. He listened closely to the cadence in their unique rhythms and mannerisms, observing and collecting each quarter beat and each beautiful melody. Exquisite music hid even within the ragged bickering between the Ragesians and Councilman Bower.

A haunting tune tugged at the bard’s senses. He snapped his eyes to the molten path ahead. Through the haze, he could make out a patch of light—a clearing. With a whoop, and a half-leap, Flik sprang ahead as quickly as his little feet could carry him. The rest were not long to follow.

The clearing was not much, just enough. A chasm stretched across the old road, its rim lined by the ever-burning forest. Still, the hole in the earth was large enough to pull the trees back and open the fiery tunnel. Fresh air flowed into the clearing along with a bit of that haunting melody.

Intent on deciding the path forward, no one else seemed to notice the tune. Flik focused on the sad key of its notes. It was incomplete, some notes lost on the wind, but whole in its own right. Something primal stirred within the chords, something that stoked the heart of this burning forest. He shuddered.

“It doesn’t look safe,” advised the councilman.

The Shahalesti elf took a long glance at the edge of the canyon. “The burning brush hugs too tightly to the edge. This bridge is the safest way to pass."

Councilman Bower sighed and set his jaw with a grim determination. “Fine. We’ll take it slowly, though. The cracks—"

“There are cracks in the bridge!” Flik chimed in. “This will make a great tale! Chased into the ever-burning forest of Innenotdar by the cruel fist of the Ragesian Army, the valiant heroes and heroines survived the heat and smothering smoke to find a chasm passable only via a crumbling bridge!"

“It’s not exactly crumbling,” corrected the elf.

“Are we done standing around?” demanded the Ragesian woman. She moved past the councilman, stepping onto the bridge. Everyone watched as she walked across, edging around a sizable hole.

“Me next!” Flik shouted. He ran out onto the stone, his friend Arc only a few steps behind. The view was incredible, stretching off hundreds of feet in either direction. Eighty feet below, fires burned in the scrub brush. The cliffs were stark, sandwiched between the oranges and reds of the flames.

The hole in the center was large, easily large enough for a man to fall through. Being smaller than a man, Flik clung to the railing as he passed. His eyes searched downward, noticing a few spots that were devoid of the flames. One of those spots was filled with water and what looked to be a broken carriage.

The haunting tune magnified in Flik’s ears when he stared down. He released the railing of the bridge to cover his ears. Flapping, flickering lights poured from beneath the bridge.

“Bats!” the bard shrieked. “Fiery bats,” he spit as bile rose from his stomach. Like everything else in the forest, the bats wore a skin of eternal flame. Blisters boiled upon the gnome’s flesh as he released his ears and swatted.

More and more of the beasts poured up from beneath the bridge, engulfing his body. Spinning, the world lurched in Flik’s mind.

He stepped off the bridge, into the hole.

The bats fell away quickly, so far above. Hanging between the bridge and the burning brush beneath, Flik could hear that strange melody beckoning to him with its primal energies just as the earth below called him to its bosom.

Pure Evel - Explained

2008-07-24T22:02:00.002-04:00

I tried to fit way too much story into two few words. My original draft was five hundred words long and I had to cut it in half for submission.

When I first saw the picture of the motorcycle, my mind leaped instantly to daredevils and specifically Robert Craig "Evel" Knievel. I'm not an Evel Knievel or a daredevil expert at all. I did some quick internet research to give myself some basis to churn out a story.

I decided to eulogize Evel, who passed away last year, with my story. The best way I could do that was to imagine what his arrival in heaven would be like. If I were Evel, what would I want eternity to be? Daredevil jumps, of course!

So, I decided it would be perfect if, in heaven, God (or the boss) set aside a 'customized 'little piece of heaven' for every deserving soul. Then, he'd commission a few archangels (Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael) to design and build upon that piece of heaven.

All that was left was for the boss to do a final inspection and for St. Peter to bring the new arrival in.

I thought it was a fitting eulogy. Having to cut the entry down to 250 words removed a lot of the subtle hints I gave regarding the setting. Ultimately, I feared many people would not pick up on what I was saying.

Still, I really enjoyed entering and I had fun working past the block that has been plaguing my writing. It was definitely a fun learning experience.

Pure Evel (Clarity of Night)

2008-07-21T19:37:00.002-04:00

The following was my entry for the Clarity of Night competition. Sadly, I didn't place this time but there's always next time. Ultimately, I think I tried to just cram too much into too few (250!) words. In a couple days, maybe I'll explain what I was trying to do with this story.

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The boss shifted, his clear blue eyes taking full measure of the new highway. Contrasting the flat, scrub horizon in either direction, the asphalt arched high into the air before plummeting like a rock cast into a chasm. At a nearly impossible angle, the stretch of road fell nearly vertically before wrenching upward to end at a drop. A flashing sawhorse barricade blinked repetitively at that precipice.

He strolled to the barrier where Mike, Yuri, Ralph, and Gabe waited patiently for praise or criticism of their work. Beyond the barricade was nothing short of a slice of heaven. “You couldn’t find any helicopters for the jump?” he teased.

Mike chuckled. “We figured some rattlesnakes and cougars would be nostalgic for his first jump.”

“Besides, we don’t want him to bore too easily,” Gabe interjected. “There’ll be more shows. We’ll use helicopters then.”

“It’s well done, boys,” the boss drawled. “A bit too much light, though.”

Yuri chimed in, “I’ll kill the lights soon as the star arrives.”

“Perfect.” The boss glanced at his watch. “Pete will be here with the new guy soon. Usher the fans in, kill the lights, and fire up those flaming hoops.”

“It’s your show,” Pete cheerily chimed as he handed over the helmet. Robert Craig mounted the machine, its carburetors growled beneath him. Rings of fire flared to life. Fans erupted in cheers. Craig spurred the Harley into motion, the front wheel screamed in the air as he raced toward eternity.

Clarity of Night

2008-07-11T22:29:00.001-04:00

Hi all. I hope all is well.

I submitted my entry for the Clarity of Night short fiction contest a moment ago. Hopefully, it'll be up by tomorrow (it is titled: Pure Evel).

Everything else is still ... going. Finished up another big project at work and I'm looking forward to the next week or two of refocusing on my "real" job. Still P90X-ing.

P90X: So Sore...

2008-06-14T10:57:00.003-04:00

SO damn sore.

Last night was Legs and Back X followed by a round of Ab-ripper X (339 ab reps spread across 11 exercises). This morning, I woke early, set up the living room and did P90 Fat Burner (not a regular part of the P90x Lean routine) and followed it up with Kenpo X (the normal part of the routine).

The legs and butt are soooo sore. Thankfully, tomorrow's a day off.

Today is a game day...

Cheerleaders

2008-06-09T22:25:00.001-04:00

His name was Garrison. I didn't think about it at the time but, looking back, it was exceedingly apt. He was six-foot-six or so and easily three-hundred pounds of nearly solid muscle. He had played football in high school and college. Garrison had worked as a prison guard at a state penitentiary but decided, ultimately, upon a safer career in education when his first daughter was born.

You wouldn't have imagined it by looking at him--or even dared to think it--but he was my cheerleader.

It was nearly a decade ago that I was suffering through basic training. I'm only five-foot-ten, maybe five-foot-eleven on a day of light gravity when I'm blessed with a bouncy spirit. Then, I was still a very overweight two-hundred-and-fifty pounds. I had somehow survived my freshman year. Everyone else packed on fifteen. I packed on fifty and picked up smoking.

Basic was trying, to say the least, and I'm not certain I could have made it through without the support of Garrison.

He was my cheerleader. He knew what to say to drive me on, whether it was a simple, "Pick up the pace!" or the more wily ego-challenge, "You gonna let the drill sergeants beat you?!"

He'd fall back when I slowed because I was losing my breath--because I felt like I was suffering too much, for too little. When I fell asleep in class and lost my hat, he dropped and did the push-up punishment with me. On fire-patrol, he always had my back.

He was a true, great friend. Sadly, I only knew him for those three months. Wherever he is, I wish him well.

This post is for all of the cheerleaders out there. Those people dear to us that have helped us or spurred us to accomplish the difficult.

Arms, Shoulders & Ab-Ripper X: P90X - Day 3

2008-06-04T23:03:00.001-04:00

Ouch.

Arms and shoulders are dead. Abs are tight.

Day three was absolutely harsh. I could barely lift my arms afterward to wash my hair.

Helluva work out. An hour of arms/shoulders/mainly tricep work and then we rolled over to struggle through the ab workout which was at an insane, heart-pumping rate.

I'll be so sore tomorrow. I'm sure its worth it though.

P90X - Day Two

2008-06-03T21:43:00.001-04:00

Day 2 kicked off with nearly an hour of high-impact cardio training combining a bunch of fun exercises. Fun not necessarily for the people doing it so much as for anyone that happens to pass by unexpectedly.

I had fun though. More flashbacks to the Army, particularly with the Superman/Bananas. Those memories only intensified afterward when I refused to wait for the shower to heat up and dove into the cold water.

Way, way back in basic training, the water-heater for our barracks broke two weeks into the three (or so) month training. Our assumption at the time was that it was another part of the training (read as: hazing).

Two weeks past and finally we said something to the Drill Sergeants. They told us to, "Suck it up! You don't need hot water!" We had no hot water for the remainder of the training--not until the head Drill Sergeant found out what was happening.

I believe they fixed the water heater the day of graduation.

Fun memories.

Now, I'm done rambling. This is the site of the friend that recommended the P90X workout. I'll add it to the 'Looking Glass' links on the side as well.

P90X - The Workout of Workouts

2008-06-02T22:27:00.001-04:00

Wow. Just, wow.

Started the P90x workout routine tonight and it was very difficult and very fun. I had a blast despite feeling as if I could only accomplish 75% of the workout.

It triggered a bunch of great memories from the Army.

Of course, I may be weird for enjoying all the manual labor and training they force a person through. Maybe I'm just an endorphine addict?

Tomorrow's Day 2 of the routine. Can't wait to see what's in store.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note: Venture Brothers: Season Three just kicked off. Amazing and funny stuff.

Its an awesome week.

The Estates at Elk Run, Section 1

2008-05-30T17:47:00.003-04:00

Today, the construction plan and profiles drawing set for the Estates at Elk Run, Section 1, was approved.

This was the first project the company completed utilizing Autodesk's Civil 3d. It was the pilot project. It was a major reason as to why I raked in over four hundred hours of overtime last work year. It was the project that I used as a training experience to craft the company's design standards from.

I am so glad its over!

(Of course, its never really over. Such is life.)

Down with the Sickness

2008-05-26T19:02:00.002-04:00

I think its just a cold with a bit of sore throat. Fun (with a capital 'F')!

I've also decided NOT to work on the project I need to for work. There's always tomorrow (when I'm actually at work). As a result, my productivity for this weekend is down a bit but I can live with it this time. I spent the last couple days with my son and that is always totally worth it.

Nightmare

2008-05-22T22:34:00.003-04:00

Last sleep cycle's nightmare snapped me from unreality and into the world of consciousness, long before I would have chosen to rise.

Along the coast, near a beach that kissed the edge of an endless ocean, I was a passenger in a car. The driver and I were exploring the nooks, crannies, and hidden beauties in this city on the edge of the world. A beautiful azure sky drifted above, calming the scene as the bright rays of daylight crafted halos around the white puffy clouds and the sleek, building-full skyline.

It was absolutely gorgeous.

The car raced along the vacant streets, sliding hither and fro. It careened around a corner and accelerated toward a bridge rising into the sky, over the ocean. The bridge spread itself before the car, all six of its lanes devoid of traffic.

Laughing.

Two eighteen-wheelers pinned the car, pulling alongside and swerving in to sandwich the machine. Revving, the pedal of the car pushed hard against the floorboard, the car lurched ahead, leaving the massive trucks behind.

The final exit off the bridge swirled past, disappearing with the wind. Up and up the car charged; the ocean fell farther and farther away. A blanket of clouds wrapped around the car, choking vision.

Two, three, ten tense seconds ticked away.

The car roared again as it kicked itself beyond the choking clouds. The world opened up wide and blue. The sun shimmered on the ocean, hundreds of feet below.

The sky opened its maw at the sudden end of the bridge.

No signs of street work. No warnings. Just two seconds of not being in the blinding clouds before the car leaped into the gulf. Everything was whistling and emptiness. The car's nose tipped forward, my stomach lurched into my throat.

Gravity grasped the car, tugging us toward the ocean.

Everything was screaming and terror.

The car smashed into the ocean, unstoppable force shattering the windshield. As the glass exploded, the world of dream gave way to darkness and wakefulness.

Nerd

2008-05-20T20:44:00.002-04:00

First, my random thought for today:

If LIFE is what happens when you're making plans, does that mean that refusing to make plans is a refusal to LIVE?

Now for the only tangentially connected topic of today's blog: I'm a nerd.

When I say nerd, I don't mean the classic thick glasses wearing, smarter-than-thou pencil-necked, gawky kid that is the archetypal nerd. Of course, I do wear glasses. Also, I may be smarter than a few people out there. Still, I don't have pencil neck and I'm not gawky (anymore).

What I mean is I am absolutely in love with school. I love going. I love learning things.

Tonight was the first night of my summer course. Its just an accounting course, nothing major. Still, I had fun.

This is a course that I attempted to take last fall. Then, however, I was stricken with an impacted wisdom tooth and missed nearly a month of work and school. I dropped my classes that semester.

Now, I'm attempting to finish the same accounting course with the same instructor. I showed up a little early to class, fully prepared to get the semester underway.

There must be something in those fickle universal cards, though. The instructor never made it because of a medical emergency. The substitute (another accounting instructor) informed us that the university may choose to cancel the course.

Now is the part of my post were I shake my fist idly at the heavens. Someone up there is trying to deny the full enjoyment of my nerdiness.

Le sigh.

Hope all is well out there in reader-land.

Edgar

2008-03-05T18:52:00.002-05:00

To anyone out there reading, I'm trying to get back into writing more constantly. I plan on posting sequential snippets of writings (every two or three days), just to try to find my groove again.

Feel free to comment. I won't mind any criticism.

----------X----------X----------X----------

Edgar fired up the cigarette. His lungs sizzled with relief. With the back of his trembling, meaty hand, he mopped a layer of sweat from his brow.

The crowd traipsed before his beady eyes, cockroaches scrabbling across the streets. They moved against the neon tapestry of the city, hustling between clubs, casinos, and strip-shows. A rapid tribal drumming clashed against heavy guitar wailing, giving life to the macabre dance.

The stink of sweating flesh suffocated Edgar. A few raindrops splattered atop his head.

His eyes locked on an aberration in the crowd. A shadow stood unwavering against the sea of bodies passing both around and through it.

Edgar gulped. He stepped back slowly. It mimicked his movement. The neon lighting tugged at its edges unnaturally.

Faster, Edgar spun on his heel. He crashed into a line of kids. The cigarette slipped from his lip, dying in a puddle on the sidewalk. He spat an apology and glanced back.

The shadow slid closer. A cold chill lanced his spine.

Edgar shoved the kids aside. He darted down the congested street.

Whisper to me...

2008-02-25T23:31:00.003-05:00

Recently, I threw my hat in the ring with the Whispers short fiction writing contest. My entry is
Beneath the Ash (Entry 35). If you have a moment, pop over there and read a few of the stories.

I've been jotting a bunch of ideas down for my writing recently, so hopefully I'll put my fingers to type and pop out a few stories soon.

Busy Month

2008-02-17T14:37:00.004-05:00

I feel that this entire month is just speeding past. It has been packed with illnesses, chaos at work, Aidan's third birthday, exhaustion, and finally goodbyes to one vehicle and hello to another.

Life is rocking along at an incredible pace. (Speaking of rocking, I have mastered Guitar Hero I & II on medium and am about halfway through conquering Part III)

---

Illnesses - Somehow, I've managed to avoid it all. Its cycling around and around and around here. Each pass, I miss it, somehow. I'll credit the glass of whiskey that I have on occasion but seriously, I haven't had that supposed immune-boosting glass in over a week. Maybe I should just accept my immune system is on overdrive.

Chaos at Work - Not the typical chaos either. Additional Chaos stacked on top of the Standard Chaos. I had to fill in as an IT Guy for the last half of this past week. We upgraded our computers to handle our software. Unfortunately, I am more trusted with the desktop machines than the IT Guy, which means all of the work fell on my shoulders.

Still, I managed to have everything switched over and fixed quickly enough (although not quickly enough to avoid some overtime).

Aidan's Third Birthday - Was fun (to the left is a photo from his Birthday Eve with Ely poking her head in to make sure she was included). We chose not to take on anything too trying this year--a good choice for my sanity. It was a simple night at home with dinner, cake, ice cream, gift opening and fun! He loved his presents, ice cream, cake, and not so much the dinner but I believe that is to be expected of a three year old.

Recently, he's also taken to potty-training like a champ. He's only had one accident in the last couple months. AND, he's conquered the very first trial of growing into a young man--that event that is sure to annoy bathroom-cleaners, mothers or maids everywhere--the ability that all women* long for in the wintry season: The act of peeing while standing.

Yes, my son is now a "real" boy. If only I could make sure he never lies...

Exhaustion - A staple of my chaotic and filled existence. Still, I'm feeling it more right now than usual (or at least it seems that way). I think that may just be because my body is fighting off the illness referenced above.

Goodbyes and Hellos - I have had a couple of these in the last month. The most recent would be the trading of my current vehicle for a brand-spanking-new Scion. The clutch had gone in the old car, the timing belt was not keeping the best of time, so, sadly, I had to say goodbye to her. I spent most of yesterday at the dealer (with Aidan in tow) working out the paperwork for a Scion which will hopefully perform very well over the next few years.

As for more personal Goodbyes and Hellos, I caught up recently with my first "real" girlfriend from high school. She and I met up for some coffee a couple weekends back to reminisce and see how each other were doing. It was nice knowing that she's doing well.

It was also interesting to observe the changes between us. We're definitely not the people we were all those years ago; I consider that a very, very good thing.

---

I believe that brings us fairly current with my crazy life. Hope all is well out there in the really, real world . . .

* - I do not really believe that all women desire the ability to pee standing up.

Rock Out!

2008-02-12T19:29:00.000-05:00

She batted those long, undeniable black lashes, blue eyes shining in the early morning sun. "Um," she cautiously stalked into the question, one foot twisting in a small circle against the carpeted floor, "later today could I rock out?"

She (Crayons' and Mr. T's daughter) was referring to Guitar Hero, which has only recently become a part of the household but it already holds a coveted place. The advertising for the game should go something like this (maybe):

Want to be the coolest middle-aged person on your block? Run out today to your nearest Gamestop and pick up GUITAR HERO! Go now! Get the band back together!

Guitar Hero is much more challenging than I expected. I actually found myself getting into it, believe it or not, and I'm not big on video games.

The callouses I once had when I used to attempt to play guitar (yes--"attempt"--I'll not delude myself about that) are suddenly all back. Didn't even need real strings for that. Even my forearm was a little tender for a day or so.

So, if you're looking for one of those "active" video games, get the band back together.

Um...Bellydancing

2008-01-28T20:41:00.000-05:00

I ran a mile and a half tonight to help stretch my body out (on top of my normal stretching) so that I could venture into the complex world of Bellydancing.

Yes, you read that word correctly. Bellydancing.

As a man, I'm socially trained to believe that the "love-handle" is the most hideous spot of the male body (despite the ugliness of some...ahem...other body parts). Whether or not my Handles of Love are nearly as bad as I imagine them to be, they certainly felt as if they were getting in the way tonight.

Bellydancing grabbed my Handles of Love by the hair and showed them who the real man of the house was.

Now, my abdomen is crying out in sweet, sweet pain for more. My arms want to dance like silky serpents through the air. My hips demand that I move in sexy ways (if I were proficient, that is) that they've never wanted to before.

I just wonder if this feeling will pass before I go to work tomorrow. Otherwise, I may be shaking my ass, hips, or many other body parts as I undulate up and down the walkways tomorrow. I'll let you know if I receive any harassment claims.

Oh, and sorry, no pics ;)

Until next time...

Missed it!

2008-01-24T21:24:00.000-05:00

Well, I missed the HNT this week so you'll just have to forgive it. I'm not much in the mood to recycle a picture in an attempt to post this week. I'd rather give you something...original.

So, here we are with a few rambling words from yours truly, instead.

Too much time working this week. Large project has to go out (how often do I find myself saying that anymore. Note to self: Need new catch phrase).

So much time working, in fact, that Mr. T nearly brought dinner to me because he and Crayons thought I wouldn't be home until late-late again. Instead, I gave up work (trying to kick that habit) and set it aside finally at six pm and headed home for dinner.

I also haven't been very thorough with the workout this week. That's something that should improve. It always seems as if Life is getting in the way of "the routine" but perhaps its just an example of my being a gentleman, opening the door for Life, which then distracts from "the routine".

*Sigh* The pains of being human.

At least there's that wonderful excuse of everyone being sick this week (almost deathly ill in a few instances) to toss into that mix. Still, I've managed to slide by the illness this time, it seems. Yes, yes, that sound you just heard was yours truly knocking on wood. ;)

Alright, I fear this is where the rambling ends for the night. There's not a lot interesting going on in my world at the moment (unless you count that looming Shopping Center I'm working on--and I try not to). Hope everything is well out there in ReaderLand.

Until we next meet...

A Long Weekend...

2008-01-21T23:22:00.000-05:00

In some manner, utilizing some abnormal definition, this past weekend was a four day weekend for yours truly. I did not technically go to work on Friday. I did not technically go to work today. Instead, I utilized my personal back door to work from home.

Friday, I had to meet with "the competition" and provide my taxi services to Crayons, who needed to drop the kid-mobile off at the dealer for standard scheduled work. So, I provided a vehicle by which Ely could attend school and Crayons could drop off and pick up her vehicle. In that busiest of days, I also spent an hour, maybe two, answering a rash of emails that erupted in my mailbox when something went wrong at work and later making a phone call to assure myself that all had been righted.

The meeting with "the competition" was not anything treacherous, believe it or not. While I am not the most satisfied individual with my career (I do work too much for what I'm paid), I was not looking to backstab my employer. No, instead, I was searched out by these two individuals for another company. Two individuals that, combined, do two-thirds of my current job. They were looking for advice on transferring to a program with which I am unnaturally fluent.

I provided my advice for the low-low cost of lunch at a pleasant, upscale restaurant and we parted ways--with ideas of organizing a get-together for ALL the companies in our area to discuss these same topics. It really would be easier to have everyone on the same page, after all, even though, technically, we're in competition.

Saturday belonged to our bi-weekly [b]Game Day.[/b] My gaming group (who have temporarily, at least, decided to call themselves the "Order of the Burning Stag") rocked the city of Seaquen, hard. Right now, we are playing through the War of the Burning Sky campaign, ran by yours truly, and I'm having a blast. They're an awesome bunch of fun (and perverted) individuals.

Sunday was a day of rest which boiled down to a pursuit of knowledge in the financial realms (particularly regarding my son's financial future and the balancing of current account ledgers), the finishing of Greg Keyes' The Charnel Prince, and a healthy dose of Baldur's Gate II, which Crayons and I play together. Altogether, a good, relaxing day.

Monday was blessed with the appearance by my son, who is just amazing as far as I'm concerned. His daycare provider had taken the day off, so, he spent the day with myself and the T. Clan, running his cars across the floor, practicing his sign language and talking back a little (which ended with both time-outs and spankings, go figure). The child is stubborn--which definitely has been inherited from this Parabolist.

Fast-forward to this afternoon, another Gameday! We picked up right where we left off on Saturday with the group chasing after a hurricane summoning druid/monk. Twice, I worried about a TPK (Total Party Kill), but they managed to pull the rug out from underneath their foes. We finished up book three of the campaign: Shelter from the Storm and they delved headlong into adventure four. Fun!

I've also worked fourteen hours and have managed to read half of Beowulf. It's been a very busy, but awesome, weekend. I hope you've all had the same!

Goodnight...and until next time!

HNT...the Good ol' days

2008-01-17T00:24:00.000-05:00

And here we have a photo cut from the history books. I guess I was about 3.5-4 years old at this point. We had "professional" family portraits done because my brother was finally old enough for it at 1-1.5 years old.

Happy HNT.

So...sleepy...

2008-01-15T18:39:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure what exactly is up with today but I've been unable to wake up all day long. I just had dinner a little while ago and it seems to have helped a bit but I didn't skip any meals today so I'm not sure what that means.

I can assume that its just normal exhaustion. Perhaps, there is a larger explanation. Was anyone else out there unable to wake up today?

I'm hoping now that my run in twenty minutes or so will finish kick-starting my mind. It is hard walking around in a haze all the time.

Huh...

2008-01-14T21:32:00.001-05:00

You look away for two seconds and all of a sudden two months have leapt off that horizon we call possibility and into that shifty textbook we call the past.

Where does it go?

Like so much sand, it just slips through our fingers. I'm not trying to be sad or emo here. Really, if it didn't slip through our fingers so quickly, we'd never have those moments that we cling to which we appreciate, so much.

Well, Happy New Year out there to all of you. Maybe I'll do a bit better with updating this year...or, maybe I'll use the excuse of being too busy again to avoid consistency. Either way, I hope a few of you hang around.

Forgive the sudden change of background. I'm actually working on a new layout for this place, but for the time being, I just grabbed one of the standard layouts.

See you sometime.

Bad Hair HNT

2007-11-08T13:34:00.000-05:00

She'll be a quick one today, folks. Let me show you the horrors of long hair (at least, when attached to my head)...

If it please the court, I'd like to add Photograph 1 into the records:

Clearly, we can all see that the long hair...is not very stylish for my box shaped head.

To further prove my point and offer a comparison, let us enter Photograph 2 into the records as well.

I believe the Prosecution rests it's case. So, kids, remember, when I randomly declare that I'm going to grow my hair out, someone needs to tackle, subdue, and give a quick haircut.

Happy HNT!

Just Another Manic Monday

2007-11-05T18:39:00.000-05:00

Dear reader,

…Everything feels off today, I’m not sure why. My dreams were assaulted by a weirdness so aberrant, my conscious mind was unable to grasp onto the specific images but did managed to hold the subtle, unnatural feeling that is, even now, clawing at my soul.

First stop on this crazy, whirring, train of unease in this very similar but still parallel and thus, incorrect dimension was a close, very close look at the conductor. You can tell, from the picture, that he was indescribably insane. He conducted my entire weekend (and so I’m convinced it was him that sent me so far off the beaten track today!) with his mood which is as changeable as the clichéd weather. Prone to rapidly alternating moods of possessiveness and compassion and patronizing condescension, he held the carrot over a sheer chasm. My unfaithful steed took the bait and we plummeted.

The train kicked forward, rushing to overdrive as the day crawled to my hour-and-a-half late lunch. I run to a Giant supermarket only to be assaulted as soon as I make it through the front doors.

“Would Bob Manly please come to the service desk! Bob Manly, please come to the service desk!” screeched across the loud speaker.

Who (in the fuck) names their kid “Bob Manly”? I brushed off my confusion—trying to focus on the task at hand, instead of pondering the ensnaring abnormality of the day. Acquisition of lunch foods led me close to the dairy isle where the managerial staff at my friendly local Giant supermarket has posted a picture of the Dairy Manager. His name, you ask. His crazy ass name was Harpo. My eyes stretched wide at the insanity of it all—that, or at the fact that he looked like Captain fucking James T. Hook (minus the big, black, curly wig). He’s even balding in the same ways. I can’t make out his hands in the picture, either because hooks don’t photograph well or Giant is afraid of Disney locating their runaway pirate captain.

Taking a deep breath and grabbing a sandwich, I glue my eyes to the floor until I made it to the self-checkout isle. My lunch slid across the scanner and I paid for everything, making sure to move double speed. Only, something drew my eyes before I quite made it out—right near the service desk.

Sure enough, that which drew my stare was Bob Manly. His name tag read: BOB in big, bold fucking letters. He was a middle-aged man—nothing too remarkable there except that he looks exactly like Duncan, Master at Arms from He-man (or Masters of the Universe starring Dolph Lundgren).

I averted my eyes, hoping he didn't notice me—in the event that his posse (probably consisting of He-man/Dolph, Teela, and maybe even Orko) are hanging around—and rush out the door.

It’s approximately a five minute walk back to work (give or take depending upon the amount of traffic and the then variable amount of time it takes to cross a town street without a crosswalk). Birds are chirping, the typical smell of smoldering cigarette smoke is absent, and perfect, white, poofy clouds pirouette slowly across a crystal, cobalt sky.

It is then that the realization hits me: I’m fucking dead. I must have died last night while gaming. It is the only explanation that makes any sense. At all. I had some sort of massive coronary whilst playing through the Tomb of Horrors. Acererak himself has condemned my soul to some godless prison—and to an eternity of weirdness—just for wishing his demise.

I’ve returned now to my cubicle…but it’s definitely not MY cubicle…

If, however, I manage to keep my head down and eyes closed, perhaps Wile E. Coyote’s Laws of the Universe will keep my soul from being trampled on at least, for a time…

*end transmission*

Like Father, Like Son - HNT

2007-11-01T14:01:00.000-04:00

Here we have my son, in a tiara. He thought it was pretty, and we all did too!

Then apparently it was my turn, and who am I to turn down an opportunity to be pretty?

Random: My eyes are bleeding!

2007-10-24T00:11:00.000-04:00

Okay, not really bleeding; they're figuratively bleeding. I've been pounding away at some work for about the last four hours--which doesn't include the ten straight hours I worked earlier today.

It sucks but I feel as if I've actually accomplished something. I've managed to navigate the most painful part of setting up a bunch of design standards and its really the last hill I had to climb. Everything else with these files will be downhill from here which means that I may be able to crank out this road design within the next three weeks as requested.

I have a slight headache--but a few sips of whiskey should take that edge off.

I spent part of tonight with my boy. Not enough time; there never seems to be enough time. Sigh. I'm looking forward to Halloween and the first weekend in November--both of which will be spent in his mischievous company.

Also, my birthday is swiftly approaching (this coming weekend). I'll be just a bit older than that cliche spring chicken we all hear so much about. Sadly, because of work, I'm having to rearrange my plans slightly. I'll probably have to pass on what's become a yearly tradition for me: Taking off the surrounding three or four days of work to write. There is just too much work and not enough me to go around (right ladies?). I still may pop out of the office early (or in late), if possible, but my odds aren't that great at this point. But such is life. And I do have a great weekend planned with a bunch of folks in DC...so, I'll get over it.

Not much else is up here on the eastern front. My brother's enlisted and will be marrying his girlfriend this weekend (all very, very suddenly, mind you). I shouldn't comment too much about it--but I wish him more luck than I had in each situation.

HNT tomorrow...I'll see you all then (or you'll see me, rather) ;) Until then...

HNT - With the Spiked-ed Hair.

2007-10-17T23:12:00.000-04:00

I haven't violated this aspect of the HNT rules just yet. I haven't overused it. Not in the slightest.

So here it is...an HNT violated by the cuteness that is my hellspawn. I promise not to overuse this, but, I figured since I've been absent for a bit...here's a decent return.

The hair is spiked-ed in the pictures because of a bit of psoriasis (I blame my father for that...the genes skipped a generation and I have no maladies). Anyway, I ask only that you bask in the glory that is my son, Aidan. He's beautiful...and amazing...and almost always wearing a smile (which we all need at times)...

Seven Things...

2007-10-06T20:34:00.000-04:00

- Crayons tagged me.

1. I've never been blog-tagged before.

2. I was born in Belgium (I am a military brat).

3. I was in the marching band in high school *cough*band geek*cough*.

4. Obviously, I did survive my surgery and have just been absent for other reasons.

5. I was a computer engineering major in my freshman year of college but changed to a double major of psychology and criminal justice. Had to leave college, wound up working in the civil engineering field while trying to finish my degree--only a business degree this time.

6. I once had an agent for acting.

7. Did you know I'm actually published now? If you're a gamer geek, please pick up a copy and support my habit :D

Well...nervousness...

2007-09-18T02:24:00.000-04:00

Alright. In five minutes, I can no longer eat or drink anything. Intravenous Anesthesia here I come!

I'll admit, having never been under the knife before, I'm a little nervous. I can only hope that my hallucinations are fun! Maybe, if I'm not too sore tomorrow I'll check in.

Talk to you all soon!

Thanks...

2007-09-18T02:07:00.000-04:00

...go to Crayons for the wonderful layout. Thanks also go to Mr. T for a little technical know-how.

Sigh

2007-09-17T00:53:00.000-04:00

I saw my son tonight, briefly, when I was shuttled over to the ex's apartment by Crayons. Because of the vicodin, I've not been driving (which leaves me at the mercy of Crayons and Mr. T). She was kind enough to drive me hither and fro for a bit.

Anyway...

My son (who is rapidly approaching three) threw his arms around me and gave a gigantic hug. I tried to explain to him that I couldn't stay long. He looked at me--with those perfect blue eyes--and asked, "Are you going back to work?" There was no malice there, no sadness, just curiosity in those eyes.

It reminded me of my own childhood. I remember thinking, if not expressly asking, that with regard to my own parents.

I'm saddened tonight and for good reason.

Relaxing HNT

2007-09-13T00:06:00.000-04:00

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday, all!

Bahamas ..... Check.
Beach ..... Check.
Mixed Drink ..... Check.
Ocean lapping against your toes ..... Check.
Great company ..... Check.
Perfect Relaxed HNT pic ..... Check.

What more can be said?

HHNT all, and I'll see you next week (if not before).

Darling, will you dance with me?

2007-09-12T00:46:00.000-04:00

Darling, will you dance with me?

Okay, okay...so she didn't really ask so much as she directly leapt onto my shoes and grasped my hands to benevolently gift yours truly with the privilege of leading. No matter the technique, my heart was stolen.

This is just one of the many, many pictures taken from the Disney cruise. For a larger sampling, check Crayon's blog.

I won't bog this blog down with too many random pictures (even if there are sexy pictures of yours truly wearing pin-striped suits or more hot Pirate costume pictures [one night was Pirate night!]). I should correct that to say that I won't waste all of my back-up HNT photos ;)

I just thought I'd post a couple photos to show the joy that was had. Thankfully, we had the sense to enshrine the moments digitally.

It was great fun. There was even one point where I was on my feet and waving my napkin about... -->

And I think I'll leave you on that note (and with that picture.) I'm a bit tired and the pain is coming back (my surgery was pushed back a week...which means I'll be hopped up on Vikodin for an additional seven days or so). Time for more meds and more rest.

Talk to you all soon...

Quietly...

2007-09-11T00:23:00.000-04:00

...I return...

Its been amazingly busy for me (Amazing is by far the best word to describe what I've been going through). I've been on vacation (and before that putting in WAYYYYY too many hours at work). We've (Crayons, Mr. T., the kids, and I) went on a cruise to the Bahamas ala Disney. It was amazing (there's that word again) fun.

We made it home Monday around 12:03 am EST exhausted in all the wrong ways. I had the pleasure of the appearance of an impacted wisdom tooth for a portion of the vacation and will undergo the knife tomorrow afternoon to excise the problem. As a result, my other posts this week (and I assume there will be more seeing as how I probably won't be able to move from my position here on the couch) will be sponsored by Vicodin.

Sorry for the absence and thanks for hanging around ;)

See ya soon!

HNT (The Play-along at work Edition).

2007-08-16T00:13:00.001-04:00

I am...still at work. Just hit the 16+ hours of work mark (I think. My cognitive ability is becoming impaired...)

...just as it was in this week's HNT! This is a pic just from last weekend, we (Crayons, Mr.T and I) met up with Lycorys, a friend of ours from an online messageboard community.

As you see here, when preparing to ingest the amazingly divine beverage known as Whiskey, one should either wear a look of peaceful contemplation or a sexy, I-own-you-bitch look. (I was the one with the peaceful contemplative look on the right :P ... although I have been known to throw that sexy look around after a few).

Cheers! And HHNT! (Now I'm going the hell home to crash for a few hours....)

What a week!

2007-08-15T07:58:00.001-04:00

What a week.

Classes officially finished up Monday and grades were turned in yesterday. The result: Straight A's. :D (pushes nerdy, taped glasses up onto bridge of nose and gives a smug grin)

Today, my first published bit of writing went on sale!

Its been an amazing week so far (despite my 12-hour work days--even work is seeing a lot of productivity this week). I can't wait for a chance to breathe so that I can just sit back and bask in the accomplishment.

Oh, fall classes start next week. So I should probably bask quickly...

One long night...HNT

2007-08-09T03:13:00.000-04:00

Okay, I swear I didn't forget.

I've been attached to my desk all night, pounding out a final copy of the class project for business--and that was after taking my last statistics exam for the semester.

Whee! I can almost taste the freedom :D

So, here's the HNT. With not much lying around...and knowing that I feel like crap so I probably look like crap, I took a few quick photos of all my paperwork scattered on the floor with various lengths of my leg and or feet poking through.

Sorry its not sexier ;) Its the best I could manage at 3:15 in the am...

Right, so I have to get some rest so that I can go to work in a few hours. Goodnight all, and HHNT!

The End is Near...

2007-08-06T23:58:00.000-04:00

...I feel it coming closer, ever closer.

The curtains are falling for the summer class schedule of 2007. I just sent my business professor my final test and when I turn in that group project later this week, I'll be done with the class. My exam for statistics is Wednesday, after which I'll be completely without classes until August 21st or so.

I was looking forward to a break...to rest and relax but sadly there is a looming deadline (doesn't it always work out that way?). The deadline is set for August the 20th which means I may end up with a one day break before I begin those fall classes.

At least I manage to keep busy. I'll shoot for having that subdivision done before the 20th...hopefully allowing a little more space to breathe. If I fail at that, though, then at least there's a vacation popping up in September.

I can't wait. I sorely need it.

Hope all of you are well out there (and not too busy)!

Aarrrrggggghhhhhhhhh HNT!

2007-08-02T01:54:00.000-04:00

Aaaarrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! I promise ye, this'll be thee last pirate-themed aych-an-tee tha' ye'll see in some time! Aaaarrrgggghhh.

So, that's me in last weekend's birthday party get up. Its a better picture with my bright blue eyes...but if I gave it all away in one photo, then this wouldn't be half-nekkid, would it?

I wonder if either of the other blo kes involved have blogged about the party...or if that's something I should write out...

ah well. Its late...and I should probably start to wind down for bed.

Goodnight, all! And HHNT!!!!

HNT - Beauty in Form and Function (take 2)

2007-07-26T02:25:00.001-04:00

Aaaargh and happy HNT to ye'. This week's is a continuation of last week's HNT, landlubbers. Above is a map scrawled out (by me own hand, mind ye') of buried treasure for a wee lass' birthday party this weekend (and just ye' nevermind that there fleshy hook--it was the best I had at the time).

Should be a good party. Aaaargh.

And, no, its not International Talk Like a Pirate Day, yet...but it is drawing near...

Happy HNT!

HNT - Beauty in Form and Function.

2007-07-18T23:24:00.001-04:00

Hands are beautiful in form and function. (And I've been told mine are especially so by friends and lovers).

Hands design, create and build. Hands comfort and pleasure. Hands can speak, can communicate. Hands betray your lies. Hands show your truths.

They harm. They heal. They love and they can plead. They are one of the most expressive pieces of our bodies. We use them everyday in every way.

--------------------

My hand is against the backdrop of a design for an Ultimate Gaming Table TM that Mr. T. and I have been tinkering with the idea of. We're real dorks.

Other ideas that my hands have been birthing recently are: A pirate map (for a certain princess' birthday party), a dress (for that same princess), a subdivision (for 189 eventual home-owners), and this post ;)

Happy HNT all!

(Oh, and I adjusted the contrast so that my extremely pallid right (and dominant) hand wouldn't be so jealous of the left...)

Uninspired

2007-07-15T17:11:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning to find myself completely uninspired. (Woke up is relative, really. We were up late last night...till after 3 am and even though I grabbed those 6-8 hours of sleep, I was by no means awake when I stumbled out of bed). Hell, I wasn't even awake after two cups of coffee.

A blinding fog had rolled in to engulf my creativity and general brain-power during the night. I had had so much prepared for today to accomplish. When I sat down this morning, there was nothing but disorientation.

I popped onto my publisher's site to find a design journal for our book. He praised my dedication to the project. That lifted my esteem...until I realized I could not pump any writing out for him.

I stared at that stupid, flickering cursor for awhile and then, fed up, retreated to my private space to read and shower.

My laundry is almost done (the one chore that desperately needed to be accomplished today). I can take heart in that--and in my slowly waking mind.

Maybe it will be time to write soon.

HNT - The Green Excuse

2007-07-12T01:07:00.001-04:00

So, last Saturday I'm expecting a typical day when I awoke. Crayons had other plans when she finally stirred from her torpor. The great idea was to paint the bathroom.

And so I found myself lassoed into helping her paint her bathroom (which was a blast, I'm happy to admit). Sadly, it pushed back the other HNT photo(s) I had planned...but that just means I get to lure you all in further into my trap ;)

So, happy HNT all!

Randomness & Planning

2007-07-10T08:47:00.000-04:00

After last week's HNT (yes, my toes are still slightly blue! but the marking is completely gone, as far as I can tell, from my chest), I had a brilliant idea for a series of HNT photos.

Absolutely fun. And I had planned to make them this last weekend. Sadly, as is so often the case, real life interrupts and forces that which I yearn to accomplish to the back of my mind.

Much like my writing. I want to be a writer. Scratch that. I am a writer. I just happen to be stuck in a designer's body...er...life. On the upside, I have begun to jot my ideas back down (digitally) and I'm even trying to pick gaming back up to further boil those creative juices. I still haven't produced anything concrete or solid in awhile but that is bound to change.

You know, if I could just stop going to work, I'd have so much more time available to fulfill my needs.

ANYWAY, as far as the HNT goes--I'll probably do something quick and dirty (perverts) for Thursday and try to get to the series ASAP.

On another random topic, I'm a little annoyed with judgmental people. I know that such annoyance is in itself a form of negative judgment. I am well aware of the hypocrisy. Seriously, when you go to judge another (their life, their lifestyle, their choices, well...shit anything about them really), take a look at yourself FIRST.

I'm not religious (I'm spiritual) but the Bible had some good wisdom embedded therein. For example, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." (John 8:7) Of course, "the devil can cite scripture for his own purpose" (Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, I. iii 93)--so, take that with a grain of salt, I guess.

*Calmly pushes a few strands of hair over the horns*

Right, so I'm feeling random. Can you tell?

So, fuh-schnizzle (yes, that's right--I'm making you endure a crazy amalgamation of half-nekkidness, bible quotes, literary quotes and, most shockingly, ebonics) you have to look forward to:

I really need to create a layout for this site. An idea is forming...
More random updating! (Excited, aren't you?)
HNT!
An HNT series built around a central theme.

Hope you hang around for it.

HNT: Fourth of July '07

2007-07-05T00:00:00.000-04:00

Happy HNT! And Happy Fourth of July!

Thanks go to Mr. T for the initial idea of utilizing the Declaration of Independence and to Crayons for being kind enough to inscribe the chosen words on my chest with permanent marker. The least she could do since I'll have blue toes for a few weeks at work ;)

Hope you all had a great fourth!

HNT: Awkward & Innocent & Girly

2007-06-28T01:12:00.000-04:00

Ahhhh...a pic of my legs pressed together in true, innocent girly-fashion. Sexy, right? If that doesn't draw the women in, I'm sure the index of a role-playing book will help to steal their hearts and souls...

Okay, maybe not.

Role-playing always manages to find me in the most awkward of positions, with Crayons holding a camera to immortalize the moment. There's a lovely photo she has of my hand in a very effeminate gesture (of course, I was letting my nails dry since she felt the pressing need to paint them).

So, here's the first of what I'm sure will be many awkward HNT photos of yours truly.

An update on my chess games with Crayons: She won again this past week (go her!). She's of the mind now that when she wins, I should have to lose clothing for HNT. Which, I admit, might sound a little fun ;)

And finally, an update on life: One of my summer classes ends later today (I have a 7 page paper I need to knock out by 9 am). That will afford a little more time; hopefully, I'll be able to pop in around here more often.

Happy HNT!

Until next time...

Joining the cult...

2007-06-22T23:56:00.000-04:00

Well, I grabbed the links from Crayons. Figured to aid in the whole 'getting-to-know-me' process, I'd do a couple online "tests". For anyone who understands a reference to Meyers-Briggs, I'm an INTP (bordering actually on ENTP).

Have a great weekend, all.

Your Brain is Purple

Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic.
You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.
Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries.

You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.

What Color Is Your Brain?

You Have A Type A- Personality

You are one of the most balanced people around
Motivated and focused, you are good at getting what you want
You rule at success, but success doesn't rule you.

When it's playtime, you really know how to kick back
Whether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love!
You live life to the fullest - encorporating the best of both worlds

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

HNT - A little late, A little leg

2007-06-22T00:12:00.000-04:00

I am *sigh* running a little behind. Its sad, really. So, here's a little leg.

You can see a wonderful blossom of a bruise there on my inner thigh. The thing to remember is that I don't bruise easily ;)

Happy HNT!

HNT - June 14th 2007 - Half & Half

2007-06-13T21:49:00.000-04:00

Happy HNT!!

Sorry about missing last week's. As has been explained already, we just missed out last week due to general busy-ness. Apologies. I probably owe a more revealing photo...

...but this time, let's just go with the strange photo taken earlier today...

It may be hard to tell in the photo, but my left arm is red/tan while my right arm is practically untouched by the sun.

The story: I'm an arm-hanger-outter driver. One of those guys that you see pounding away to the rhythm of the music (Not any of Phil's songs, sorry) while I'm speeding down the highway with my arm hanging out of the window. Unfortunately for my right arm, I work indoors. My classes are indoors. And as opposed to my younger days, I spend a so much time indoors.

Thus, my left arm ends up with a splash of color while my right arm could belong to a vampire.

IF anyone out there doesn't mind driving around in the summer heat with their windows open...and wouldn't mind a passenger...and happen to be in the NoVa area. Drop me a line. My right arm is jealous...

(And I absolutely love that my shirt here says, "Open All Night" because it's true. I am. :P Until next Thursday--if not before...)

Edu-ma-cation

2007-06-05T23:47:00.000-04:00

I figured I should check back in before HNT this week. For those of you that don't know me (yeah, there are a few of you out there), I'll give a quick run down of my general life situation: I am a twenty-five year old guy with a two-point-five year old son, a full-time (and then some) job, and recently I returned to school to finish out a business degree.

There are a lot of nit-picky details intertwined in that general statement (e.g. I share custody of Aidan on a weekly basis with my ex-) but I'll not dive too far into those right now. If ever I seem absent from this blog, I warn you now it is probably because of part or all of the above. I will drop in at least once a week for HNT though ;) so you can look forward to a bunch of pics if nothing else.

So, I'm back in school and loving it. Maybe I should have become a scholar... Its a lot of fun being back and meeting a variety of people. Because I'm picking up a few classes at a community college before transferring into a "real" school to finish the degree, I meet people from all walks of life.

There are the Naive-Children (18-20 year olds) that have no idea what life has in store for them. I used to be one of those.

There are the Get-Back-On-Trackers (21-30 year olds mostly) that hit a few detours (children, traveling, etc.) who are finally pulling their lives together and blossoming into "adulthood". That's me now.

There are also a few of the I-Love-to-Learn scholars (any age but most that I've met are in the 30+ range). They're there for the sheer joy they find in learning. Maybe I'll be one of those someday.

For now, I have to buckle down and find a calm center in the madness of my life. If only I can make it through statistics and my Wednesday morning of meetings...

Off to bed with me. I have to be up early for a little DDR. G'night.

HNT - The Sexy Dimple Moment..

2007-05-31T15:03:00.000-04:00

Though my plate is more than full at the moment, I couldn't miss HNT!

Happy HNT!

Phil, Phil, Phil.

2007-05-27T19:33:00.000-04:00

I have a stalker.

Phil, I'm calling you out. It has taken a long time and many soul-searching sessions to do this. I'm calling you out over this medium, the wonderfully vast expanse of the Intraweb.

Phil, please stop stalking me. Every time I turn around, you're there, serenading me with your lyrics, reaching out toward my heart.

I cannot take it anymore.

When I climbed into the dentist's chair Friday afternoon, I knew you'd pop on over the loudspeaker. You always do. You're consistent in your assault. Sure enough, you told me thru these walls that Only you know and I know. Its not true, Phil. Amy and Karlan know. Now, the rest of the world knows!

You caught up with me Saturday, though, didn't you, Phil? I was minding my own business at the local AC Moore. I was just trying to pick up a few supplies for that class project when you slipped behind the lines, to promise you'd find a way to my heart.

Phil, it doesn't matter if you hang in long enough. There's no such thing. One more night won't make any difference either.

I'm done.

Before you start with the, "If leaving me is easy...", just stop. Phil. It doesn't matter to me, Phil.

Do you remember that Groovy kind of love we shared? Don't say, "It's not too late". It's over, Phil. It's not just something in the air tonight. You seriously drive me crazy. Leave me alone.

Don't make me call the Love police, Phil.

HNT

2007-05-24T19:49:00.000-04:00

I'm in...

A proper introduction is on the way (along with a proper layout...)

Happy HNT