Just Get Up

I’ve been laying in this bed for 46 minutes now. My mind is wide awake, a flurry of activity as usual. The flashing red numbers and screeching sound of the alarm clock will me to move. Each flicker of red light seems to chant something annoyingly familiar.

Get. Up.

Get. Up.

Get. Up.

Another 16 minutes fly by. At this point the alarm clock has given up on me. Something in its internal circuit board has signaled a cease and desist. A built-in fail safe for people like me. Why waste sound and perfectly good electricity on someone who has clearly given up?

As I raise my head off the pillow, I brace myself for the world has in store for me. The house is silent and eerily still. The faint bark of my neighbor’s dog tries to sneak past the windowsill, but is instantly drowned by the deafening silence. By now, I’ve managed to force myself into a slumped over, but upright position. My muscles ache. My bones feel like they have been on this planet for more than 100 years. Without warning, the surrounding silence has now been replaced with the screams of my own mind. Thoughts of doubt, loathing, and pure misery dance around freely as if they were a ballerina on stage. And once they start, they rarely ever go away.

With my feet dangling over the side of the bed, I do my best to lift my head. The heaviness of my convoluted mind weighs down the rest of my body like a 1000 pound weight. My body feels like it’s made out of nothing but quicksand. My mind is nothing but jumbled mush. If I can just make it to the shower, I know everything will be okay. The scalding hot water will wash away some of this hideous mess. The tiny grains of sand will swirl down the drain and disappear. They’ll vanish and hide from me until this process starts all over again.

Today is just an average day. You see, Wednesday is a fickle bitch. Really, so is Tuesday. I am willing to bet that Thursday is no different from the rest. As my eyes focus on my weary feet, I begin to talk to myself. Each word more stern and borderline violent than the next.

“Get. Up.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Get the fuck up.”

And so I do. I trip over my failing body as I make my way to the shower. The hot water is my only reprieve. My only hope to feeling some sort of normalcy.

With one foot in front of the other, I get up.

I just get the fuck up.

This Week @ MamaPop

Damn! Did you feel that? This week flew by. As usual, I am here for you. What can I say? I am a giver by nature. Please to enjoy my posts over at MamaPop!

Tuesday’s Post: HIMYM Season Six Recap: Episode 1 “Big Days”

Thursday’s Post: ANTM Cycle 15 Recap: Episode 3 “Patricia Field”

It’s Mah Birfday

Last week, I reached the one year anniversary of blogging my insane thoughts throughout the interwebs. As with most things in my life, I completely forgot about this magical occasion. My teeny tiny brain is on overload and I failed to properly acknowledge the all loving and all knowing internet gods. I failed to give the peeps that encouraged and nurtured my half-witted ass the proper shout outs and accolades worthy of an Oscar acceptance speech. Make no mistake about it, I have had an amazing year in regards to writing. I started by blogging random thoughts about Vinny Delpino from Doogie Howser M.D. to actually scoring my first writing job. Not too shabby for a kid that never learned to read, huh? So, without any further procrastination I give you a completely random list of people that have blown me away with their writing, generosity, friendship, and over all complete and utter badassness. (Cue the orchestra now!)

Jules (@meangirlgarage) from Mean Girl Garage

What can I say about Jules that hasn’t already been said? This amazing woman is a teacher by day and a naughty sex toy reviewer by night. If that doesn’t kick ass all on its own, she once told me that “she wanted to write like me”. Now, I am not trying to brag or out Jules in anyway, but when she told me this, I was on the brink of questioning my own talent and skills as a writer. I mean, I still do that every single day, but after hearing that from Jules, I was instantly humbled and more driven to write than anytime before. And for that, Jules, I thank you.

DJ (@DysFuncJunc) from icanhasissues

DJ is truly my partner in crime. Crimes against humanity that is. There is nothing like finding another bacon obsessed, atheistic Heeb out there to share random Anchorman quotes with and make fun of our unfortunate medical maladies. I mean, what’s more funny than a craniotomy and degenerative bowel disease combined? Nothing. That’s what. Also, she thinks poop and farts are highly hysterical. Now that’s a true double bonus! We are currently designing our twinsie super hero costumes. My vote is for heavy usage of lycra and lace! What? I like to feel pretty, okay?

Jen O. (@JenO_Eh) from My Tornado Alley

If DJ is my partner in crime, then Jen and I were born from the same demon, blessed with opposite genitals, and sent about to roam and rule this bitch we call planet Earth. Jen ended up ruling where Canadian bacon is king. She has been blessed with copious amounts of maple syrup, donuts, and a huge hatred for mullets. On multiple occasions, her unwillingness to watch hockey has almost gotten her permanently kicked out of Canada. But what she lacks in hockey knowledge, she makes up with blatant sarcasm, snark, and a huge robotic heart. Although she won’t admit this to me, she is solely responsible for me getting not one, but two of my first ever writing jobs. She likes to argue with me and try to tell me it was all my doing, but I know the truth. I can honestly say that Jen is one of my best friends. And for that, I couldn’t be more grateful.

Tracey (@sweetney) from Sweetney and MamaPop

Tracey is my editor and chief over at mamapop.com. This woman snatched me from the pits of obscurity and gave me my first real writing job. I mean, I am still obscure as all hell. But thanks to Tracey, I have  HUGE platform to show just how much crazy actually floats around in this skull of mine. She has welcomed me into the MamaPop crew like I was one of her own. Everyday, I am in awe of my fellow writers there. They make me laugh and make me a better writer at the same time. Tracey has a true talent for spotting the best of people. Her loyalty is unmatched by anyone I have ever seen. I’m not just sucking up to my editor here either. It’s the honest to gawd truth. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone who writes or has ever written for her. I am sure they will tell you all about the baseball bat and brass knuckles she uses to defend her loved ones.

The Writers of How To Eat (@howtoeatblog) and MamaPop (@mamapop)

Adam P. Knave (@adampknave) from adampknave.com, Jen O. (@JenO_Eh) from My Tornado Alley, Bri (@sarcasmically) from sarcasmically.com, Aidan Morgan (@palinode) from In Palinode’s Palace, Kelly (@kdiddy) from kdiddy.org, Jodi (@jodifur) from jodifur.com, Miss Banshee (@missbanshee) from Inverse Candlelight, Snarky Amber (@snarkyamber), Sarah (@goonsquadsarah) from Sarah And The Goon Squad, Charlie (@everymankitchen) from The Everyman’s Kitchen, BHJ (@wwbhjd) from thebhj.com, Two Busy (@twobusy) from Two Busy, Katie (@motherbumper) from motherbumper.com, Laurie (@lauriewrites) from lauriewrites.com, Christine (@byflutter) from byflutter.com, Anastacia (@jurgen_nation) from Jurgen Nation, Amy (@thebitchinwife) from The Bitchin’ Wives Club, Kelli (@KBestOliver) from South City Confidential, Travis (@theholmes) from The Holmes, Melissa Locker (@woolyknickers), Susan (@trouttowers) from Trout Towers, Alexa (@alexaflotsam) from flotsamblog.com, and last but not least, Julie (@momslant) from The Mom Slant.

I know that is a shitload of writers. I know this. But the truth is, these are some of the most fanfuckingtastic writers around. For some odd reason, they allow me to pretend that I can even hold a candle to their many many talents. I must be a good bullshitter. Really, if you don’t follow these people via their personal blogs, MamaPop, or Twitter, you are missing out on pure excellence.

A BIG and Very Special Thanks Go To The Following:

Schmutzie (@schmutize) from Schmutzie for featuring one of my posts on Five Star Friday. That was the single most viewed post I have ever had on my personal blog.  I cannot thank you enough.

Paige (@PaigeJo75) for putting up with my shit on a daily basis, supporting my crazy, and giving me the two best little muses a father can ever ask for. There were many and many of times when you were my ONLY reader. There are still times when I am convinced you are the only one reading this shit. Specially, when I recap America’s Next Top Model!

Heather (@schmooplee) for making me fabulous meat and potatoes for dinner. Oh, and the bacon. I can’t forget the bacon!

Andrea Anthony (@andygirl) for always reading and commenting on my posts no matter how fucking stupid they are.

Paul Ingold (@theswimback) for representing Kansas City in a beautiful way. Yanno, through copious amounts of food and beverages!

Lindsay Smith (@sometimesicing) for loving bacon, Canada, and rocking any fucking hipster hat she so chooses.

I am sure I forgot a ton of people that have helped me over the last year. I am eternally grateful for every single one of you. The internets can be a mean, cruel place at times. But if you stop to look around, you can meet some really good and fabulous people. I certainly know I have.

This Week @ MamaPop

It was another fun week over at MamaPop. What’s that? You want the links to my articles? Well, you’re in luck! I have them conveniently located below! Happy clicking!

Tuesday’s Post: Jennifer’s Body: A Review From My Couch

Thursday’s Post: ANTM Cycle 15 Recap: Episode 2 “Diane Von Furstenberg”

Broken: Part Three

“Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!”, I mumbled to myself. Well, at least I thought I was mumbling these things to myself. With each expletive that left my mouth, the volume of my disdain seemed to skyrocket to the point random people were staring at me as I feverishly marched down the street. “Did he see me?”, I asked out loud to the unwitting passersby. I don’t know what I was expecting. I wanted someone to give me an answer. Surely, one of these strangers would know something. I mean, I couldn’t wrap my mind around what had just occurred. Someone other than me had to have the answer.

We live in a city of over 8 million people. That’s EIGHT. MILLION. PEOPLE.  He just had to be on the very same train at the very exact time. One full year to the day had passed without a word, without a clue to his whereabouts or well-being. The last months of my life had been dedicated to wiping my mind free from every single memory of him. And with nothing more than a brief encounter with his laugh, there he was staining my brain with memories that I had tried so hard to forget.

It’s amazing how a single chuckle can ruin your day. If it wasn’t enough that I was already late to work and dumped my purse out for all of the train to see, I now had to deal with every imaginable emotion associated with this man. As I trudged through the seemingly never-ending crowded sidewalk with nothing but my purse and a portion of a found newspaper to protect me from the sudden onslaught of cold, stinging rain, I failed to keep myself together. I could feel the tears well up in each eye and mix with the rain as they poured down my face. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet and I was already defeated. My mind broken,  my soul ripped apart. I could feel the stares from my co-workers as I  made my way through the office. Their eyes seared through the newspaper as I tried to cover my face as if I were a leper hiding her spots. With the rain, tears, and mascara running down my face, I slammed myself into my chair. “One breath at a time.”, I uttered as my voice quivered in between the tears. “Just one breath at a time.”

(Part One of Broken)

(Part Two of Broken)

This Week @ MamaPop

After some brief time off in the beautiful mountains of Colorado, I actually regained some of my brain cells and wrote not one, but two posts over at MamaPop this week. How is that different from any other week? Well, it’s not. But!! Wait! This was the first week for my America’s Next Top Model recap! I know you are exited. I can see it on your face! So, do me a solid and go read!

Tuesday’s Post: Watch The Princess Bride Or I Will Divorce You

Thursday’s Post: ANTM Cycle 15 Recap: Episode 1 “Welcome To High Fashion”

This Week @ MamaPop

Friday is upon us again. And as usual, it’s time for me to whore myself out to the internets. Lucky for you, I make it easy on you. Behold! The links! So, do me a solid and give me some clicky love. Please to enjoy the fuck out of my posts for the week over at Mamapop. Now, go getcha some!

Tuesday’s Post: Five Reasons Why Bio-Dome Was Genius

Thursdays Post: Another Bill And Ted’s Adventure?

And In That Moment, My Mind Was Free

As I threw the tiny plastic ball towards him, I could see the setting sun laced with dark clouds in the Western sky. Brilliant oranges and reds peered through each and every crevice in which these enormous masses of vapor could not cover.  A gentle breeze cooled my skin as it passed us by. For a moment, time had stopped. I was transfixed and quickly ushered to another realm of reality. I am not sure just how much time had gone by, but judging from the inflection of his impatient response, I am sure it had been a while.

“Strike One!”, he yelled followed by a mischievous giggle.

That was the last thing that I heard. In that few minutes we played in the front yard, the real world no longer existed. I’m sure he said a bevy of things during our time together, but my mind would not allow me to process them. I watched him scamper about the yard as if he were some kind of wild animal just set free from a life in captivity.

Most days, the world does nothing but create confusion and angst. It tries to ruin your soul and eliminate the hopes built up in your mind. But on that day, it was just me and my son. Nothing else matter, but him, that ball, and that bat. For once, my vision was clear. And in that moment, my mind was free.