Archive | January, 2011

A Toot Of My Own Horn: The IndieInk Edition

18 Jan

 

 

 

 

Last week, I was approached by the awesome folks over at IndieInk about joining their creative team as a content editor. With a certain amount of saliva running down my chin, I shouted “YES! YES! YES!”

Well, that’s the way it played out in my head anyway. I am pretty sure I did nothing but mumble incoherent things and tell them how much I love to light things on fire. Nevertheless, I am now an official editor. I am not quite sure what that means. But they said I could light whatever I want on fire, so I am going to run with it.

But seriously though, being that I was once a featured writer for IndieInk, I am truly humbled and honored to even be asked to join this awesome crew. So, make sure you come and visit me over at IndieInk (and follow us on the Twitter Machine as well @indieink). Actually, don’t just visit. Stop by, read some wonderful writing, view some wonderful art, and while you are at it, submit your OWN work to IndieInk. What are you waiting for? Go!I’ll be waiting.

 

 

Advertisements

The Day My Life Changed

17 Jan

As the very first cries came from your tiny lips, I found myself lost in you. Up until this point, I had been nervously and anxiously awaiting your arrival for what seemed like an eternity. All of the sudden, you were here in my arms. I could hear your voice, your screams as they alerted my soul to your long-awaited entrance into this world. With my hands trembling, I brushed aside your whimpers with nothing more than a simple stroke of your hair.  Seconds later, you were asleep. A moment in time, frozen in my mind for the rest of my life.

Five years have passed since that cold winter day. I’ve watched you transform into this brilliant, kind, and loving human being. As eager as I am to teach you everything I know, you have been the one to show me all that is right in this world.

In many ways, you are all me. From the way you get frustrated at the smallest of things, to the way you walk, to the way use your hands when you are trying to illustrate your point. But as we are one in the same, we are different as well. You have taught me things that nobody else could ever even possibly do. I watch you interact and love without fear. I watch you make your mother laugh and cry with happiness in the very same moment. I watch you take your sister’s hand and lead her through this world with a passion and devotion like I have never seen. These not so little things seem to be so natural for you. And that warms the inner most part of my soul.

You don’t know it, but as I watch you, I am learning. With each one of your actions, you teach your father the simplest of things he should have already known. I know in the future, you’ll get frustrated with me. You’ll want me to just understand and pick up the simplicity of life the way you do. Just know that I am working on it. I am a slow learner as far a life is concerned. But I know that I’ll get it sooner or later. I have one of the best teachers a man could ask for.

Five years  ago to this very day my life changed for forever. It’s uncanny and heartwarming for me to witness this perfect human being make his way through life. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am.

Happy Birthday, son. I love you more than these words could ever convey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Elsewhere

7 Jan

I’ve been all over the place lately. I am trying my best to win at the internets. It’s a rough game, folks. Anyway, please to enjoy the following links. My fingers worked really hard on them.

This Week At Mamapop:

Tuesday’s Post: HIMYM Season Six Recap: Episode 13 “Bad News”

Wednesday’s Post: Taylor Swift And Jake Gyllenhaal Stick A Fork In It

Thursday’s Post: Top SNL Characters You’d Want To Kick It With

This Week At Draft Day Suit:

Thursday’s Post: Shocker Of The Day: Titans To Cut Vince Young

When Will Morning Come?

5 Jan

The drugs and alcohol try their absolute best to squash the inner workings of my mind. Even their best attempts appear to be in vain though. In my world, reality and the irrational rarely play nice together. The raging war between the two flourish amongst the anger, doubt, and, guilt.  As I lay here in the dark, my alarm clock mocks and taunts me with a constant reminder of just how much time I have left until the first glimpse of sunlight peers through the windows in this empty room. Frustrated, I close my eyes in a feeble attempt to sleep.

In reality, I am just preparing myself for battle.

I can feel a flurry of activity reverberate inside my skull as I lay here in the still of the night. Most of the day, time seems to move at warp speed. But not now. Not when I need it to the most. Instead, time holds on like a starving parasite sucking a few drops of life from me as each second ticks by.

I shouldn’t be surprised by this ritualistic draining. I’ve certainly been here a million times before. But as I toss and turn about this cold, empty bed, the voices inside my mind get louder and more invincible than ever before. Impervious to my redundant and overtly idealistic threats, they mock every part of my being. Powerless, I succumb to each and every thought.

There in the darkness, I watch the clock.

Waiting.

Wondering.

When will morning come?

 

The Silence That Torments

4 Jan

The silence in this house screams out the obvious.

I am alone.

Over the years, I thought about what this moment would feel like. Just me. Just me and this old couch. I would fantasize about the silence. I would glorify this very moment over and over in my head, a simple idealized serenity played out in a million daydreams. I’d speed home through rush hour traffic and anxiously count down the seconds while the garage door opened. As my hand turned the knob to the six panel door, I would feel the stillness of the house invade me like a virus. The solitude would invigorate and refresh my soul. Through the silence, I could breath again.

Or so I thought.

No sooner did my worn sneakers cross the threshold, I knew I was wrong. Gone were the scurry of little feet to great me at the door. Gone were the giggles and adoring salutations that coincided with my mere presence on a nightly basis. Gone was that rush of adrenaline that filled my veins as the first “HI DADDY!” graced my ears.

Gone.

I didn’t even make it to the living room before the first tear rolled down my cheek. The silence that I once coveted, now tormented me more than I thought possible. As I sank my body further and further into the couch, my heart began to pound. I could feel the droplets of panic drip from my brow onto the pillow that I clutched like a lifesaver as if I just abandoned ship. There in the darkness, I was alone.

Petrified.

Paralyzed by the unfamiliarity of my self induced solitude, I closed my eyes. This would be my resting spot for the night. The couch that I dreamt about so many times before, now felt like it was made of concrete. For the first time in thirty years, I was alone.

Just me.

Just this couch.

Alone.

%d bloggers like this: