dragons' wings

Sing Along

2007-04-04T16:00:00.000-06:00

This morning in Spinning class, the instructor played a ZZ Top song, “Tube Snake Boogie.” That song reminds me of when I saw them in, I think, 1985. They were in Laramie, Wyoming, playing on the college campus. Same spot that our Cowgirls won the WNIT championship last Saturday. Night Ranger opened for them and it was a good show.

When ZZ came out, I remember standing and never setting down back down. From the first song, I stood and sang at the top of my voice. I sang like no one else was there. Just me and “The Little Ol’ Band From Texas” having some fun. At some point, I noticed there was a lot of others singing, too. Sometimes a band will prompt the audience to join in on a certain part or yell something, but for this night at this show, no prompts were needed.

At some point further, ZZ just stopped singing during the song. Can not remember which one, probably one of the songs that was made popular from their videos on MTV off the “Eliminator” album, like “Gimme All Your Lovin.” This was not during the chorus or, again, with any prompts, they just stopped singing and kept playing. When they stopped singing, everyone got even louder. The next song, same thing. Then they played Tube Snake and did not sing any of it! The whole place was on their feet singing as loud as they could!!! Gives me chills just thinking about it.

Boy, I had fun!

Being a musician myself, I think that is the ultimate compliment. To go to some small town like that, play a show and have everyone know all the words to your songs and to sing them like that! I had so much fun at that show! Nothing fancy, no special lightening or theatrics, no tower of flames or laser lights shot into mirror balls. Just good old rock and roll. When it comes to playing music, that to me is all that I have ever wanted: to play and have everyone have fun. Dance, sing, forget about life and live!

For me though, I want my lyrics to have meaning and significances, even to provide help. So now you know what I dream about sometimes when I am listening to music.

Women and TV

2007-04-03T16:37:00.000-06:00

There is this woman at work. She is from Slovenia. We have an Air Force base here so it is not uncommon for me to meet woman from around the World. This lady is a queen, a goddess, feminine perfection. Yes, of course, she is married and I do not come on to her. I do talk with her much and she is just so classy and elegant. This lady is full of style and grace and kindness and intelligences and all the stuff I want and more. She is confident, yet, not arrogant. Speaks her truth, yet, with dignity. Plus, she is way hot!!! The most beautiful blue eyes and dark hair and brown olive skin.

As long as I can remember, foreign woman have been my desire. Sorry, do not mean to say anything bad about American women, just my personal choice. I also much prefer women who are non-Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic, black, dark hair, non-white skin. Again, just my choice. Yet, I have dated very few. 2 or 3 Hispanics, some dark hair blue eyes (yummy) but plenty of white blondes.

Any of you watch “Dancing With the Stars?” Love that show! That and “Lost” are the only ones I watch. (ok, and some sports here and there) When I watch “Dancing,” I wish it was me dancing. Anyway, that one chick who is the former Ms. America (can not think of her name right now, nor do I care, might as well be Bimbo), the blonde, the “Barbie and Ken” one, do you guys dislike her as much as I do? She thinks she is the All-American dream. Guess what, Honey, the only dream you are for me is my worst nightmare. To me, she is all that is wrong with some people in this country: shallow, self-centered, superficial, ignorant, arrogant, closed-minded, and all about youth and looks and money.

When people in other countries observe us, it is usually through the media. TV mostly. Think about what it is they see: Brittney Spears, Paris Helton, Anna Nicole. Yeah, nice. Is it any wonder these people think badly of us? Not many worse examples of a role model then Brittney Spears. Paris is a shining example of the evils of capitalism and un-supervised youth. Not saying I am perfect and of course, we have tons of good in this country, even on TV. Of course, TV just loves to make woman look bad. However, I do not think I want my daughter to be an ignorant amateur porn star. Think about it: that is how Paris got famous. You want to be know for that? You want the rest of the World to think that is how all our daughters are and our wife’s and our families? My parents would kick my ass if they saw my daughter (not that I have one) on the news drunk and stupid and…

The rest of the World laughs at us.

Got nothing against porn stars or any one who makes their own sex films. You are all free to be and do as you wish. Not everyone can be intelligent, either. Does not mean they do not have a reason to live or that are bad people.

So, what is my point? Just complaining? Or do I see a tear in the fabric of a once decent society? Maybe I am just getting old? Or maybe I am being arrogant? Or maybe I know what I want and what I do not want.

What is inside that matters. What you do that is good for all, including yourself, is what matters.

Time travel and rock music

2007-03-27T14:39:00.000-06:00

Time travel has always been a very interesting subject/idea to me. The idea/concept of time in itself is enough and could take lots of time for me to write about. However, today I am thinking about a time machine. Go here and there, see, experience, learn and do what?

For now, I do not have anything so noble to write about as changing major events in history. Stopping Hitler or anything like that. Sure, I have some of those ideas or thoughts, I have lots of questions, but for now, I would like to talk about this idea I have had for many years now.

Music is huge in my life. I love rock and roll mostly and I have seen many shows. Over 120 and seen over 150 bands. What I would like to do with my time machine is go back and see some bands back in the day. Many I never got to see or to go and see them when they were just starting or at their best or their peak. Ray Charles when he was just getting started early 50‘s. How about one of those shows in the early 50’s with a very young Elvis and Johnny Cash? The Doors at the Whiskey in 1967 before their first album. The Beatles in Liverpool before they got big. Janis Joplin with Big Brother pre-1968. Bob Marley in Kingston, 1977 or ‘78. I could go on and on with a huge list. Maybe see some famous shows like Woodstock or some of the shows that I have on albums. For example, I would have loved to been in Paris to see Supertramp in 1979 for their live album “Paris.”

What about you? Who? Where? When?

anger, more and less

2007-03-24T17:58:00.000-06:00

this is pastels. measures 22 by 33

Healing Light

2007-03-24T17:32:00.000-06:00

So, I have actually done some creating in the past few weeks. Just finished this one tonight. Not even framed yet. Used mixed media of pastels over watercolors. I am calling it “Healing Light.”

The Beatles and me

2007-03-22T16:07:00.000-06:00

A few days ago, we were listening to the radio at the CAS. Like we always do when I am doing a job shadow with the guys, we listened to KRRR, the “oldies” station in town. Used to be oldies meant 50’s pop/rock-n-roll, but these days, they go all the way into the mid 80’s. They have this great program, comes on at 9:00AM, called “The Top 9 at 9.” They stay with the current day (which would have been 3-20) and pick a year, then play the top nine songs on the charts for that year on that day. That day, the year was 1964. The top 3 songs, number 1,2, and 3, belonged to the Beatles. Not before, not since, has this happened. Well, it did for the Beatles again, but not for anyone else.

Will it ever happen again?

Not a new band out there right now that could master that, not unless they are still playing in a garage somewhere right now. The new stuff today is lacking. Hip hop is a bore, the rock scene blows, and rap is just horrid. However, I think the time is ripe for a band to step up and take over. Any thoughts?

When I was 10 and 11, back in 1969-70, me and 2 other guys would pretend we were the Beatles. We would lip-sink to the albums and put on shows for the girls. I was John. The night he was shot, I heard it from Howard Cosell while watching Monday Night Football. George’s death is much more emotional for me, though.

As my father likes to say, “we were raised heathen,” referring to him and his siblings. That is pretty much I grew-up. No church or Sunday school. No prayers at dinner or before bed, no Bibles in the house, no nothing other than beer and country/western music. The Beatles helped me to escape all that, but also to learn about life. About love on a deeper level, about spirituality, about God, about being a good person, about love for all. Of course, they taught Eastern beliefs and that seemed to be me then and it is now the way life should be. Even after the break-up, their music as individuals helped me to learn and grow.

Within/without

2007-03-17T22:18:00.000-06:00

All I have ever wanted in life is to be loved. Same as everyone else. That is really truly all any of us wants. We look around for other things that we think bring us that love, but it is not true or real. That love comes from within just as much as from without. Perhaps we all already have it, just that we think we do not that we are so frightened so afraid that we push love away. Yet, that love is always there, perhaps way down deep or perhaps right under our noses, but that love is there. Yet, fear masks it, covers it, gives us the false impression that we do not have love. All any of us need do is not allow fear to blind us and fool us. That is the real trick, isn’t though?

All that I have ever wanted was to have someone love me as much as I love her. To know it is real and true and lasting. Instead, I feel fear. Fear that she will cheat as the many others before her. To lie and deceive and to leave me. Funny, ironic, that right now there is no rational reason to feel that. What we fear most will come to us, drawn like a magnate to metal.

8 years now there has been no love in my life. No gf or wife or even a sex buddy (as if that is love, right?). Yet, all around me is love. Love within me, love without me. Love from my family and friends and pets and from God and from myself. From myself? Not as easy to do at times. Getting much easier, yes, but at times, well, not so good.

Love from within, love from without.

Yoga weekend follow up

2007-03-03T18:36:00.000-07:00

Since the big Yoga weekend and my epiphany 3 weeks ago, my life has been challenging. Some how 3 of my clients got the idea that I am the anti-Christ. All evil in their life was perceived as being by my design. Last week, my payment for services was not deposited into my account. Not only did I not get paid, but I can not pay my staff. Got a $500 cell phone bill and a collection notice for $1,500 hospital bill from 6 years ago in the past 2 weeks. My wicked cold from a month ago returned. Some other stuff happened that right now I can not nor wish to recall.

Oh, one was that the first Tuesday back, I subbed and taught the Yoga class. I had all this great stuff I was going to share with everyone, right? All that new stuff I learned. Had it all planed out. Right after we first started, just getting our breathing down, my mind went blank. Completely forgot everything. Just had to wing it.

That first week, not only did I get very sick, but the 2 wolves were fighting again. Not sure why I would want to fight myself over receiving and using such a very special gift, feeling better and all that, but I was doing it. That cold was beating me down, I got depressed and well, same ol’ same ol‘. That fight lasted a week or more.

Talked with the other person from my Yoga class here that went to the Yoga weekend same time as me. Same story with her.

In my opinion, through my life experiences, after we receive a new cooping tool, we are offered a chance to use it. For me, that chance is often the next day. Been using it and yes, it works. Just keep calm about the whole thing, some good deep diaphragmatic breaths, kept in mind it all Serves a Purpose and well… most of it has worked out and soon the rest.

Within me lately is a growing desire to take off, get some time away from my life. It worked so well before on that weekend that I have been feeling like I need more cleansing and growing and insight. Found a 16 day Yoga retreat on the internet to the Himalayas in India. Great price and Yoga all day and all night and I will be able to heal and grow and fix and… rubbish. All of that has to come from within. I can travel around the world and spend my whole life looking here and looking there and all the issues will just follow me. Life will still be here when I get back. I have the tools, just need to use them and let them do there work. That is what I have been doing and so far, so good.

So, how about if I get fixed and working, then go on that trip?

What happened to responsibility?

2007-03-01T12:37:00.000-07:00

My parents were 50’s “Father Knows Best” types. Yes, that had it’s many flaws. One thing that has gotten lost that was not a bad thing is responsibility.

Born in 1959, I was a child in the 60’s. What a great time to be alive! Sure, I suppose we can all say that about our childhood years, right? Then came the 70’s, the “Me” generation. Suddenly, everything was all about “Me” and “who cares about anyone else as long as I get mine.” Then came the 80’s and the next thing I know everything is someone else’s fault. “I am not to blame for my actions, my parents are, the bartender is, my teachers at school made me so screwed up that how can I be to blame for my behaviors?” The 90’s? Same song and dance, only worse.

What happened to responsibility? Yes, sure, our environment, our peers, our authority figures have helped to shape us, but since when is it anyone’s fault but our own that we are irresponsible? Do we blame it on too many lawyers? Yes, the bar owners need to be more responsible, but HELLO, they did not force anyone to get drunk. Sure, our dysfunctional families have made it very tough for us. You bet, lots of us are victims.

It takes many years of hard work to get past childhood abuse or rape or extreme violence. Depression, bi-polar and all that very tough. In those cases, you bet, the perpetrator is to blame. However, in our daily life’s we should assume responsibility and heed our actions. “We are only a victim for as long as we allow ourselves to be.” Heal, morn, grow, learn, become a better person.

What I am saying here is that if you are rude or mean to others, then it is you who is to blame. You are hurting others and yourself. Life is hard enough as it is without us harming ourselves. So you were hurt too, no excuse to hurt others.

Me? You got it, I need to be responsible for my actions, my words, my behavior and not just toward others but for myself. So, yes, this blog is for me. Hey, if you do not get many readers on your blog then you need to blog for yourself, right?

One Love, One Heart, One World, One Soul. We are all ONE so we are responsible for ourselves. We are all here together so we are all responsible for everyone.

Fear of freedom

2007-02-23T08:05:00.000-07:00

122 prisoners of war in a prison camp were given a choice for their execution: the firing squad or ‘the black door.’ All 122 choose the firing squad. Why? Because they had clear knowledge of their death, there was no intangibles to fear or ponder or worry about.

What was behind ‘the black door?’ Freedom.

Fear of the unknown keeps us from being free, holds us in our small inner worlds. “We only know what we know. We do not know what we do not know.” Without venturing out and walking through that black door, we are not living.

Do you choice death over freedom?

Yoga weekend

2007-02-12T17:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend I drove to Colorado Springs to get certified to be a Yoga teacher. I have been practicing Yoga for coming up on 2 years and I have been subbing for our teacher on occasion. Getting certified in this area is tough with limited opportunities and I have been waiting for over 6 months to get certified. Everybody wants a person to have that piece of paper saying they are legitimate. Colorado Springs is only a 3 hour drive for me, so no problem. I stayed at the Broadmoore, a 5 star hotel, becuase that is where the conference was at. Never done that before and all the extra fancy and extra service was a nice treat. I had to eat in my room because I did not bring the appropriate attire for eating in the restaurants in the hotel. I tried not to think too much about all the possibilities of my $30 cheeseburger I ate, just that it was a good one. I very much enjoyed the big bath tub and the huge shower.

It was great for me to get away from the drama of my daily life and have some time to myself. One great thing about it was there was tons of young attractive women working there who gave me lots of attention. Thought I was back in Jamaica for awhile. I bet they were thinking I have lots of money or maybe they are just getting paid to be nice. Any rate, that helped my self-esteem out tons.

For the 2 day seminar: it changed my life! Any one who has read my blogs of late knows I have had some questions about my life. I have been asking and searching and waiting for answers and I finally got some. The teacher/Yoga master was incredible! He taught us all about Eastern philosophy and all of those things about life that I have always thought was the best way to be. In the last 7 years, I had lost my faith in it. Thank God it had not lost It’s faith in me!!! All of my answers can be found within, just where they were all along. I had stopped trusting and now I have found my way back.

The Yoga itself we practiced was intense! At times I was feeling the best I have ever felt in my whole life! Then, I was crying like I have not in years. We did trance dancing that I wanted to never end. My ohms chant had a big loud tone that surprised me. Sunday we practiced a very fast paced, intense, physically demanding session that rocked!!! I was performing posses I had seen in magazines that I thought I could never do. And did them all on my first try!

Today, I am sore. My back and my legs are sore from setting on my matt for 2 days and the drive home did not help. I moved a ton of blocked energy and all day today I have been exhausted both emotionally and psychically.

The thing about receiving great information is what a person does with it after. Right now, I am just so happy to be found and back on the right Path. Be assured I will do my best to allow this information to do It’s work. Right now, I just need some rest.

Real quick: a few things that are sticking out in my mind right now. First is forgiveness. Who do I need to forgive? Myself. The other is taking full responsibility. Always thought I had been but I can see now I was placing a lot of blame on others. Who mostly? God.

Question EVERYTHING

2007-02-08T07:51:00.000-07:00

I am asking why.

Why do we believe in the things we believe? Is it because we know in our hearts it is true and right and just? Or is it that we blindly follow what we are/were taught? Or do we just do what everyone else is doing?

Have you ever questioned all of your thoughts and beliefs? Even some of them? I think we all should question everything.

Our culture, our environment, our social-economic situations, our location, our weather, our past, our heritage, our parents, our teaches, our peers all play a part in our social norms and our belief systems.

What works for people in the United States does not always work for people in other parts of the World. What works for them does not always work for us. What works for people in Wyoming does not work for those in New York or Florida or even Wyoming’s neighbors Nebraska or Colorado.

So who is right and who is wrong? Both? Neither?

If you question your beliefs, really take a good close deep down objective look, what will you find? Perhaps you already have and if not perhaps you should. Go beyond that tired old attitude of “because that is the way it is” and find what is in your heart. Find what is truth and not just because you were told so. The worse that can happen is you will find you have been blindly living a lie. In which case, you will spend some time in confusion and resentment and then find a better way. Or, you will find it was right all along and best for you and only serve to strengthen your resolve. In either case, you will become a better person.

Woke-up yesterday morning…

2007-02-07T15:29:00.000-07:00

The clock said 2:13 AM. A feeling of gloom blanketed me. Perhaps it was a bad dream that disturbed me, but after a short recalling, my dreams were not as such. Then the day's date came to mind: February 6th. On this dreadful day, now 17 years ago, my best friend died in an alcohol related car accident. 2:13 AM is the estimated time of death. My mood was, well,… not good.

My emotions for the day wanted me to at times just break down and cry. Depression wanted to take control and have me drop out. Yet, I was able to just work through it. By the time I finished Yoga at 6:30PM, my mood was good.

She was my best friend. We were very, very close, so close that we seemed to know each others thoughts and moods without speaking of them. We were also big drinking buddies. Whatever was within me that drove me to drink excessively, went to the grave with her. If not for that, I would perhaps be dead as well by now, or worse.

This time of the year is tough for me. Sometime around the end of January, I begin to get very depressed. I suppose many people do this time of year, but I have found that the source of mine is due her passing. This year was not so bad though and I feel as if I am working through it. After 17 years, one would think that pain and sorrow would be gone. This year is much better so far because I only had yesterday and not a full month worth of battling depression. The depression was not as disabling as before. Now, all I have to do is make through the funeral date, February 14th, and go on remembering her fondly.

There is a song that brought us together as close friends, one that she loved. After telling someone at work about this day and my experience with waking, that song came on the radio. “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin.

Follow-ups

2007-02-05T07:36:00.000-07:00

A few blogs ago I wrote about doing things out of my normal routine. At that time there were some opportunities for me to possibly date. So, I asked. Of the 3, one is married and too bad because I really like her very much. No, not too bad for her, but for me. She is very beautiful and smart and kind and from Slovenia. The other said yes but has since blown me off. I can take a hint. The last is a lesbian with a live-in girlfriend. I did not ask her out after finding out and she is still very flirty, but that is confusing to me. Maybe she likes it both ways and good for her. To me, if she has a live-in partner that would be cheating. Not sure I want to get in the middle of that anyway even if both are consenting.

So again, I am up against the wall. I have been doing some art and playing my guitar. This weekend I am going to Colorado Springs to get certified to be a Yoga instructor.

In March Neliesha is graduating from college. She is studying to be a nurse. I have been funding her needs for this so I feel it is important that I should go. That will be in March.

Although I have not writing any in the past 3 weeks or so, there have been no responses to my letters on both dating sites I am on and I still seem to attract only scammers. Leaves only Neliesha then and from what I am gathering I should not be even thinking about that as a possibility either.

But I am a rebel, so

Holding Back I

2007-01-29T17:57:00.000-07:00

When I first saw her, I thought she was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. She had grace and elegancy and boldness and my complete attention. When she spoke I thought angels were singing. Even as far away from her as I was, perhaps 20 feet or so, I could feel her warm loving caring energy. Yet, I held back.

As she walked passed through the crowd, it was as though the Queen had arrived and all were in humbled awe of Her Majesty’s presence. All bowed and kissed her hand as she adorned her loyal subjects. Yet, I lingered back behind the others in the crowd. She did not notice me, not then. For the next five days and four nights, I watched her from a distance, studying her, noting all of her lovely physical features, her moves, her mannerisms, her character. That was over a year ago now.

At that time, that first day, she spoke to me, but only for a courteous greeting. Her attention was on a much younger and more handsome man than I, my son. My heart was filled with great joy to think he could have such an impressive woman’s attention. In my mind, I could see him and her together, happily married and several children about, some little girls who looked just like her, son‘s as handsome as he. Next day, she braided my hair.

We talked and through our conversation, I discovered that she is intelligent and kind and pleasant and polite and… perfect. I became very comfortable with her and we shared some nice conversations and a few great hugs.

Before arriving on this first trip of mine to Jamaica, the voices in my head told me I would meet my soul mate, my spouse, my life mate, my “her” there. Upon leaving, I felt despondent because I had not and they told me it was her, this Neliesha, this Queen.

“No,” I debated, “she is for my son.” So, I held back.

Holding Back II

2007-01-29T17:48:00.000-07:00

As time went by, we had a few nice phone conversations, strictly as friends. Latter, after three or four months, I discovered that my son was not really interested in her. His mother would not have a black daughter-in-law. When I returned in July, some 8 months latter from this first meeting, I was again impressed with the site of her. The many photos I had from the first trip did not do her energy and elegance justice. Yet, I held back.

On that second trip, I was there to met another and Neliesha had a Jamaican man in her life. The second day of this trip came a phone call with a surprising confession: she told me she liked me, not just as a friend, but for much more. Even more surprisingly, I told her, in an awkward, clumsy way, that I had feelings of wanting to be more as well. Yes, I did, even though I had not admitted it to myself. Indeed, I do so now. But what to do?

Upon returning here, confusion filled my heart and I fought with myself for many months. What to do? Then, Jah provided an answer. Her man had become abusive and she quickly ended it. The person I met went her own separate way to Canada. Yet, I held back.

Holding Back III

2007-01-29T17:38:00.000-07:00

Then came another meeting this last December’s end and New Year’s beginning. Now just a month ago, the feeling became much stronger. My desires to touch her and be with her became over-whelming. Never before have I ever desired to love and touch and make love to a woman as I desire her. Again, observing her, she is Isis, the perfect wife and mother. Her passion for children is obvious, her role as matriarch of the family again obvious, but perhaps only to some. Strong, independent, intelligent, loyal, caring, honest, bold. Yet, I am holding back.

Why? Because I am 47, she is 19. Perhaps in her world, her country, that does not matter much, and perhaps it should not matter here, yet, for me it does and…

Just do not know what to do. I have spoke to her about it. To her, it does not matter. So why should it to me? I have let go of it, but there is too much love there to ignore. I have only but kissed this woman once, nothing more. Never been on a date with her, never held her hand and stared into her eyes, never... But she is in my heart and in my mind. I catch glimpses of her in public. See her face and image in others. It sends chills through out my body and soul. This is more than just infatuation, more than lust, more than…

Why must those two wolves within me fight each other so?

Something new and a wax museum

2007-01-28T16:36:00.000-07:00

My dream from this morning: We were walking through a wax museum. This part had just been a quick change from the previous, so details of whom I was with are not clear because it happened very quickly. The time duration was very short as well before I woke. I can recall seeing two wax figures, one male one female. They may have been actors or rock musicians, not sure because I did not spend much time looking at them. We walked quickly by to the next display.

This was a male figure of a guy dressed like a janitor with a dark blue full jumpsuit. His head was missing. In his hands was a rake, the type with the big plastic forks, not the short metal ones. My intuition was telling me he had something to say, so I listened closely. He began to speak to me from down inside his chest, or from his heart. He did not speak words right away, but began to rake the area around him. He cleared all of the leaves quickly because he was standing in a very small area that was marked by a very short gold fence. This fence was perhaps only 8 or 10 inches tall. He twisted his body to do some raking behind him. With great effort, he pulled his feet from the floor that had been attached with rebar wire from his souls. As he stepped over his fence and began more swiping, he said “Step out side your area.” That is when I woke.

I knew he was saying for me to move out of my usual routine, my normal comfort zone, to try a new approach, to do things I have not been doing. In the recent past, I have heard a few people advise me to try new approaches to my current concerns. I guess just do some stuff I have not tried much lately. There are a few women in my life right now that seem interested in me. I am not extremely interested in them, but enough. My internal thoughts have been to avoid them because of lots of silly reasons like I do not have feelings enough for a long term love relationship or hurting them, yadda, yadda. Now that I think of, how do I know that? I think the proper thing to do would be to ask them out and see. Be honest with them, yes, but at least get out and be doing something besides sitting at home.

Other than that, I am just not real sure what else I can do. That will come and I will just go from there. This stuff will take some effort for me to motivate myself. I am not feeling so confident, either.

wicked cold

2007-01-14T16:23:00.000-07:00

Been down with a wicked cold. It has been zapping all of my energy. No achy muscles, just so tired. The cough and sore throat and sore chest are bad. No appetite and not much sleep. Even though I have been very tired and lethargic, sleep has not been happening. Wake-up several times during the night and un-able to get back to sleep. Nothing much as gotten done in the past week or so.

For a person like me who has troubles with depression, specifically depression for no reason, being this type of ill and having no energy makes it even harder. The lack of energy and being lethargic and no strength to fight makes it very easy for depression to take hold. Hard to tell at times which is which.

Very tired of feeling like this. Want my life back. The doc gave me some anti-biotic and they seem to be working, but they only seem to be taking the edge off. Have not been to Yoga or Spinning in a week.

Jamaican Expectations

2007-01-04T07:05:00.000-07:00

Back now from my trip. Had a very nice relaxing fun time. The food was even better than before, the people great and the weather nice. My son had a great time as well.

Expectations are an important role in a person’s experiences. In cognitive psychology, they have what is called “schemas.” These are organized structures of how we perceive the events, people and places in our life’s. The theory is that we organize our experiences into categories and use them for latter experiences. We meet someone new, we quickly place them into a certain category and react accordingly. Same with going somewhere new or being in a new situation. The cognitive psychologist feel we do so as a defense mechanism. At some point, we alter those schemas upon receiving further information. When re-visiting a place, we recall those past events and place inferences on them just as we would in a new situation.

My original intentions for returning to Jamaica this time was to spend time with someone I had met on the internet last January. Things went very well with her. In July, I went to met her face to face. In August, she went to Canada, telling me only after she had left. Received a dear john letter from her a few weeks latter.

My friends in Lucea told me that New Year’s Eve in Negril is a very popular place for Jamaicans. So, I changed my plans, added my son on and decided to return home sooner than planned. My hopes were that I would have a good time and meet some women. Do not really like to admit it, but I had expectations of meeting someone. That was one of the reasons why I decided to go anyway and not cancel the trip. Do not feel like I was holding onto it or forcing it or hoping and praying for it, but the expectation was there. New Year’s Eve was fun and crazy, very entertaining. No one new came into my life nor did I make it happen. However, I was able to make a few deeper connections with those I already knew as friends.

My expectations changed greatly after some time on internet dating sites. All of the games and fake profiles soured me. After my first trip to Jamaica, I looked in that country. The people there are looking for something different than the Wyoming/US people. After that person went to Canada, I took a few months to heal and grow and get my head straight. On the internet, what I want and what I will get are far, far way from each other. So, I have had to change what I expect and abandon what I want. What I expect and what I get are the same, nothing. However, I seem to have made a few internet friends. As many people are on these dating sites, it has to be working for someone.

My previous trips to Jamaica brought me inner peace and clarity. I was in need of that this time, but I did not find much. Again, another expectation. What I discovered is that I still have some rejection issues. Expectations turn into assumptions. Those assumptions have been ones of pain and fear of cheating and lying. Situations arise that call for trust and understanding, yet, I react with fear. Time to work on that now. Not sure how I can without other people being involved, but I am sure God will give me the opportunity to continue to grow and heal.

Expectations can be bad things. I will continue working on letting go of them, not making assumptions and allow for what will be to be.

Depression and creating

2006-12-22T17:08:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I am a creative person. For me, it is not just some aspect of my personality, but a way of life. To me, creating is as essential to my being as food and oxygen. Yet, I do not always create. I have several different venues and mediums that I use to express and release that need within me. I write, poems, prose, songs, blogs, I do art, mostly drawing, and I play music. I own 4 guitars, a bass, a set of drums, a mandolin and 2 harmonicas.

When I am watching a very good movie, I want to create an epic novel, or a series, that is like no others. I know that is within me. I have several books in my conscious that I often think about. I have written a book already and started 4 or 5 others. I have over 20 poems and songs written and many more in my heart. I have been drawing and painting for over 40 years. Right now, there are 3 or 4 pieces begging and clawing and scratching to get out. I play lots of blues and rock and country, but I prefer to make my own songs. I have 4 completed and 3 or 4 wishing, hoping, praying to be finished.

When I have an idea in my head, it eats at me. It consumes my thoughts and concentration. When there is an art piece forming in my heart, it will not leave me alone until complete. Complete means actually tangible. There are times when those pieces, those ideas, scream constantly. I can not eat or sleep or walk or talk until they are released. Right now, 2 books are hollering very loudly. My guitars taunt me endlessly when I am near them. I hear music and say “Oh, how I wish to be playing.” There are 3 drawings yelling and screaming and banging my head to be let go and flourish. So, why am I not doing it?

Depression kills my creativity. Not always, most often times, it just delays it but I know I have lost some good quality pieces from ignoring them for too long. The past few months, I have had some extra time in the afternoons. Have I been creating? NO! I have been doing the one thing in life I can master: naps. I know I have some depression going on, some changes I am going through, but I have done some quality creating while depressed worse than now. I just can not seem to force myself to do any of it. I can not seem to gently persuade myself into doing any of it. I mean, my guitars are setting right here. My books need only be plugged into the USB port. My drawing paper and pastels and stuff are setting right here, right behind me now. So why?

Time and decorations

2006-12-08T15:04:00.000-07:00

How interesting the changes of time! Things that once were so extremely important that day the next seem to just fade away, gone but to memory. The holiday seasons cause me to reflect (perhaps to much) on the past at times. Today I am noticing that a few things that were once “tradition” a main stay, extremely important, of not only my holiday doings, but of my family’s, are fading or gone. Of course, like many on here, this time of the year is a huge struggle with depression for me. You know, wish I had a special someone to be with or buy a gift for or have sex, that sort of thing. Then throw in the fact that the past month or so I have been going through some major changes, well, here I am bloging about it. Through all of the long and short term relationships I have had, only one was what I consider to be the relationship that I actually gave 100%. Never even thought I could, but hey, that is a different story and there I was doing it. How it relates is that that is one example of what is lost or gone or fading. That relationship was the one that I made the “total commitment.” One major part of it: sharing and combining Christmas decorations. When this relationship ended, 8 Halloweens ago (and now 8 Christmas’ and New Year’s and yadda yadda), I can recall a day shortly after that we met at my storage unit. She was taking her stuff. Her folks were there and I just stood there in quite shock and numbness watching and answering vaguely a few questions. At that time, I had no feelings of like or dislike or care or concern about who‘s stuff was who‘s and all that, but I guess my actions of these past 8 years has told the true story. I can vaguely recall her opening the boxes containing the ornaments and such and her possibly, maybe… well, to be honest, I do not actually recall. All I know is that since then, I have not decorated for Christmas. No trees or stockings or lights, not even cards for a while. This year, same as the others. I am not even sure if I have any decorations any more. Maybe she took all of them, I do not know. If I do have any, I have no idea where they are or what box they might be in or any of that. I have always been a little kid for Christmas. I love to decorate and give gifts and bake and eat and fudge and even the music. Even at 39, I still could not sleep on Christmas Eve. That was then. Today, well, I guess I still care, but there is no passion. I still love to give gifts and I spend way too much money, but that is just a part of it. Yes, this is about Jesus and He is in my heart always, not just one day a year or one day a week, but 24/7. I have my son and that is more than some. I get to buy him gifts and my family, but… The TV commercials and newspaper ads hurt. Oh, buy her this expensive necklace, diamond ring, Mercedes-Benz, whatever so I just stop watching TV and looking at the ads. Yeah, I can do all the damn logical thinking or Dr. Phil “you don’t need anyone to validate yourself” rubbish, but it just does not always seem to help. Makes it worse at times, actually. OK, enough complaining because you all have enough of this. I guess I am just saying that oh how time chances things. This year has not been as bad as the 7 before. In fact, I even caught myself singing to a Christmas song on the radio this morning. Not with much passion or enthusiasm as before, but it is a start. When I was shaving this morning, I was just thinking about how I have not decorated for Christmas in all this time and just where are my decorations anyway?

crossing

2006-12-02T15:32:00.000-07:00

‘Twas night as he walked home. As he reached the viaduct, he stopped, then pulled on to his back a thick rectangular piece of grey carpet. This 2 foot by 4 foot piece of carpet was tossed over his back as if a blanket from the cold, or perhaps a cape. Strange because the night was warm and clear, the stars bright and the lack of wind caused the evening to be very pleasant. As he begun his accent, he held the carpet piece corners, one in each hand as though the carpet where a cape or wings. Certainly any one would know this would not save him from a fall from this mighty viaduct, yet, to him, this is essential to carry this carpet upon his back, as if there is no choice. Once on the viaduct, the nice smooth wide sidewalk was no more but now a rail. Not so thin as to not allow decent footing, but there is a great covering of ice, smooth and thick and translucent, causing him to reach for the handrails that ran on both sides. As he placed his footing sideways to the rail, the handrails instantly changed into broken and busted and twisted. The handrails also were covered in ice, with thick sickles hanging from them causing his hands to loose their hold. The hand railing to his left broke off and fell to the ground far below. He held fast his right hand grip as he himself began to fall. For a moment, the fear of falling to his death over-whelmed him. Panic ensued. Yet, he took another firm grasp of hand railing, pulled the carpet back even on his back, and continued to climb as the fear of falling subsided. Soon, he is beyond the rail, onto some cement stairs, then onto the top of the viaduct. The sidewalk returned, but is now rust colored and crumpling. Loose reddish brown rubble causes his footing to be unstable, but he continues onward. Not just continues, but with joy in his heart. He begins to sing, sing as he never had before. Loudly, beautifully, as he always has known he could, yet never done so before. The beautiful sound of his voice carries far and wide as he hits each note with great grace and volume. He always knew he could sing like this, always. Now, all the World knows as well. Quickly, the song is done as is the top. Decent comes quickly, but near the bottom is a layer of fruit, impeding his path. This is but a mere slight obstacle, not worthy of such name, but rather just silliness. Yes, they are lying side by side, in neat tidy rows. Yes, they are ripe and large and beautiful and... Well, he just has to know. Just as he would reach the bottom, he bends down, taking a nectarine, then lets the carpeting fly away. As he dismounts the viaduct, he takes a nice big bite of the fruit. Oh yes, it is indeed very tasty. Sweet and juicy and as fine a nectarine as he has ever tasted, and he has tasted quit a few! He stopped his walking to enjoy this fruit and a spectator came over to him. This young man professes to being a huge fan and eagerly spoke of awe and bewilderment of this man’s accomplishment. The young fan feels he has never seen such a great achievement, feeling that he could never do so in his simple life time. “No, my friend, that is not truth. For one day you will do the same, just as I have done this day.” The fruit is gone into his belly, only the pit remains. The man tosses that seedling to the ground, stepping on it, grinding it into the earth as he goes upon his way home. Then I woke up for the 3rd or 4th time that night/morning.

To Just BE

2006-11-29T19:56:00.000-07:00

About 4 or 5 months ago, maybe longer now, maybe less, I came to a conclusion. All my life I have been the story of the 2 internal wolves that are fighting for supremacy. In that tale, they are ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ Within me, they are ‘logic’ and ‘intuition.’ Which one gets fed the most in that tale wins, and perhaps within me as well, but not really. ‘Logic’ wants to rule, but ‘intuition’ has the first and final say. With all that has been going on in my life, I have just grown tired. Tired of thinking about everything. Tired of trying to “figure it all out.” Tired of fighting within myself about why and how and who is responsible and what does it all mean. I generally know all of this so why bother discussing it over and over in my mind. The parts I do not know come to me sooner or latter. I find myself imagining other perceived outcomes to events that have passed, sometimes months or years ago. I find myself arguing over ‘who’ is responsible when ‘who’ does not matter as much as ‘why.’ And how much does ‘why’ really matter? I have spent a good majority of my life, especially the past 17 years (since I quit drinking) trying to figure out ‘why’ and “what it all means.” That quickly leads to how I can do better next time or coulda-shoulda-woulda. Then comes the preverbal “ya buts.” I try to convince myself that I want to ‘learn’ so I will just get 'IT' and not make the same mistakes. Yet, here I am! Sometimes I do and sometimes I do not and so what? See, here I am doing it again. My conclusion: just BE. No more fighting with myself, no more over-analyzing, no more trying to figure it all out. I am spending far too much time fretting when I could be just BEING; just living and not over-thinking everything. Turns out just BEING is a little harder than expected. You see, I either am BEING or I am not BEING. “Do or do not; there is no try.” Sometimes in my quest to just BE, I am actually only holding it all in and not working through it then letting it go. Life is flying by so quickly that one day it will all be done and I will be wondering what happened and what did I just do. Why spend that time fighting with myself?

Our bodies do not know the difference between a real and a perceived threat. To our bodies, all fear is real. Only in our minds do we know “real” fear. Therefore, we are in control of our fears, assuming of course that we can control our minds, ha, ha.

Choices, who makes who?

2006-08-26T11:21:00.000-06:00

We hear that we create our own realities. We have the power within us to make our life’s better or worse. I have thought that this mostly meant that we have a choice to react to our situations in whatever manner we see fit at the time. We can choice to react with anger and fear or with patience and understanding. We all know the stories of a kid living in the ghetto who turns to a life or drugs and crime and hate. That kid blames their circumstances and their lack of choices for the poor choices they have made. Yes, indeed, at times, it can sure feel and look like we have no choice. Although we may not like those seemly limited choices, we always have a choice. Or do we? For my chosen example here, I think we do have a choice. Not easy ones, or ones we want or like, but choices.

My purpose here now for this blog is a question I have been pondering for a few years now. Do we have a choice in who we are and what we do or has that choice already been made for us? For example, I want to create in my life a career. One where I make tons of money, I am doing something to help others and to make a difference in the World, and that I would love. After I quit drinking and discovered myself, I have been working toward that. Changing one self internally, emotionally, spiritually and intellectually seems to be a very necessary part of this process. No simple job, believe me. Here I am, owning my own business that helps others and I am doing my best to make a difference in many ways, but am I really I control of it? Not absolutely, no. When one attends college, having a specific goal is very useful. Yet, one has to be flexible because life happens and changes occur and before you know it, you are banging your head against a wall you will never get past. Is that wall telling you to work harder? Keep trying? Persevere? Or is it there to point you in another direction? Hard to tell at times. I know many people who got the degree they wanted and the job they sought and they are miserable. Time to go back to school and make another poor choice?

Yes, we have some control, but do we with the how and where and when and who? There are many books out there that say yes and provide detailed instructions on how to do so. For me, so far, none of it has worked. I seem to get to a certain point and then it is gone or changes or somehow I end up losing it or at best going off in another direction. If one believes in past life and reincarnation, and also believes we have some choices in determining our next life time, then certain major parts of our life’s have already been chosen, by us as well as God.
Since I began my business, this seems that I have been on some Holy quest for a grail. Finding good employees is seemly impossible. There is a huge lack of responsibility and morals and proper etiquette. Far be it for me to decide what is proper, but anyone with any small thread of common decency should know some of the basics here. That seems too much to ask for in a person. Showing-up to work on time, or even showing-up at all seems to be far too much pressure. Working a full 4 hour shift 4 days a week is also to much too ask of someone. Expecting them to remain sober and not use illicit drugs or abuse prescriptions seems to be an un-realistic expectation. In comparison to the other business such as mine, I pay more. I ask less and I tolerate more than any of the other places I have worked. Yet, I can not find any decent workers in this area. What has happened? Have we taught our younger generations to be lazy and demanding of things not yet earned?

We had a pizza delivered from Domino’s Saturday night. Attached to the box was a flyer advertising for workers. They are paying $15 an hour! The funding I get for my clients from the government is only $11 an hour for most of the services (some do pay more, yes). I pay my employees $10 an hour. So why would they want to work for me with all of the huge responsibilities of taking care of other humans in need when they can delver pizza for more money?

Our priorities in this country need to change!

After the day I had yesterday with on of my clients, I might want to consider delivering pizzas. While at work, he took several of his pain medications and drank some vodka. Oh, I know about his sneaking around with his drinking and until yesterday he was able to still get his work done. I guess he decided to party like 1999 on a Sunday morning at work. He passed out numerous times, one of them while he was standing and attempting to remove his back brace. When I suggested I take him home, he became very agitated and vulgar with me. He left the building finally only to pass out on the ground in the parking lot. After reminding him he could not sleep there and made more attempts to give him a ride home, he still refused with much vulgarity and walked across the street. He then passed out on the side of the road. After numerous phone calls, my only option became to call the police. They told me they would take him home and he did get in the car, but a phone call latter that evening informed me they took him to jail.
So, I ask myself, is this what I busted my ass for in college? Is this why I spent 4 years in college, going in debt for $45,000? Is this what God is asking of me?

Starving

2006-04-04T15:43:00.000-06:00

If it is true what is said
That touch is as much
A necessary function of life,
As much a physical need,
As eating, food, and nutrition,
I am starving
Each morning I wake
Hearing my body speak.
My empty stomach roars;
My weak muscles moan;
My tried mind complains,
Begging me to feed
Before we all parish;
I am starving
I leave my solemn bed
And enter my quit kitchen
To find every stark cupboard,
The large dark pantry,
The cold humming ice box,
All completely bare.
My thin body cries aloud,
I am starving
I cover my meager body,
In baggy, worn clothes.
My hand searches my pockets
To find that nothing's there;
No paper of green,
No coins of sliver and gold,
But soon, I am told
My Employer will Pay
For my hard Work and Efforts,
But not today or next week, but someday.
My restless conscious begs
I am starving
I leave this barren home
Onto the chilling cold streets
And amble past the shops.
I smell the sweet pastries
That offer only a small taste
If I am willing to buy.
I see beautifully decorated deli delights
That feed my hungry eyes
But their price is far too much,
Demanding even, my very soul;
The over stocked and neatly supplied grocery shops
Stuffed with over indulgent people sampling and buying;
But the glass doors only open
To those who can afford.
I hear the crowded diners stuffed full
Of obese joyful customers in expensive clothes,
Who laugh will their mouths full of lavish meals
And drink fine wine and eat their cake;
As if mocking this poor ragged beggar.
I lower my head as my frail muscles scream
I am starving
Shall I steal or maybe beg
And try to cheat my fate
For just a small taste?
Shall I barrow, as before,
With my stomach never full,
My muscles still weak,
Having to repay ten fold
Any amount of console?
No, these prices are much too high
For such poor and ill gotten nutrition.
I shall, in fact, continue to wait
Until my Employer Delivers my Pay.
For then I may purchase my own
To feed my tired, starving body, muscles, mind
And be completely full and satisfied.
I quite the screams and aloud cries;
I am starving
I return slowly to my empty home
Listening to my satisfied soul
Telling me that although I maybe hungry,
Although my body hasn't eaten in a long while,
Although I have grown thin, my muscles weak, my mind tried
I shall soon feed and eat right
I shall not wither and die
No matter how much I think so
I will not starve

Ol' Mr. C

2006-03-29T18:55:00.000-07:00

I would like to quote some lyrics from a song I was listening to a few days ago. A song I know well and have listened too many times. It somehow seemed to fit the events of my mental state of the past few days.

“Nothing Ever Goes As Planned” (Dennis De Young) Styx

“‘Cause
Nothing ever goes a planed
It’s a Hell of a notion,
Even Pharaohs turn to sand
Like a drop- in the ocean
I’m so together and I act so civilized
But every time that things go wrong
I’m still surprised
I’ve done my duty
And paid a fortune in dues”

Mr. C was hanging round looking for a fight. He stirred up some trouble and wanted to have me complain about not getting laid and asking lots of “why not me” ’s and “why everyone else” ’s. Over the years, I have often times been amazed at how quickly and easily I can get depressed. Anger and frustration takes hold and Mr. C makes his appearance. What is even sometimes more amazing is how comfortable it feels. It is like coming home, picking up on a conversation that had a long interruption, yet never actually stopped. Even more amazing still, is how I become surprised at my depression and wonder how can it be this is still happening to me. He did not hang round too much and I did not entertain him. He was allowed to speak on occasion, but he did not take over.

return of the zombies

2006-03-27T07:27:00.000-07:00

Sunday afternoon, my father was showing my son and I one of his many guns. This particular one is a 20 gage, bolt action, shot gun. For some reason, I always thought a 20 gage was some type of joke and not a real shot gun. I thought 18 was the highest gage amount. Also, I had never seen a bolt action shot gun, only single shots or pumps. This gun is old and has a long barrel. I did not think any more of it that day. I was still concerned about my son and his issues he was having with his school friends and all of that I mention previously. That night, or early morning, I had another zombie dream. My son and I were here in our house. The front door was open with he and I standing looking out at the rest of the World. It was a warm, sunny, bright day. Usually, a clear vivid dream such as this has some significance for me. That shot gun was in my hands and a zombie came waltzing up in it’s awkward theoretical manner, then entered the house through the front door. I shot it in the face, completely obliterating it’s entire head with nothing remaining, not even anything as mere as splatters of plasma or bone fragments. I turned to my son, who was standing behind me with a shot gun, not a 20 gage bolt action, and told him: “Don’t shot them in the head like that. The cops will not be able to identify them once they arrive.” No sooner had I finished that factorial comment, another zombie entered the house. This time, I shot it through the chest, in the heart, nearly severing it in half. At least, the face was still recognizable. There came perhaps 6 more into the yard. My son stepped up to join in the activities. After pulling the gun up, preparing to shot again, the dream altered. The zombie part and my son and being even in this city was over. In the movies, and apparently in my dreams as well, zombies are symbolic of brain dead, very low functioning, can not think for themselves and always follow the rest of the herd, sheep, I mean, humans. They are the type of people who can not do or act or say anything of their own accord, only do or say want they know from the majority consensus. Not very flattering as far as I am concerned. The dreams theme or message was just telling me that my son must also be involved in fighting ‘zombies’ in his life. Suppose that is only fitting considering what happened with him and his “friend.” The dream is encouraging became it is suggesting that we both have very effective tools in combating this issue. This is my 3rd zombie dream in the last year. This was the first that my son was in one. These dreams remind me that I can not just be a follower. In my hour of deep need and desperation, I wish to be a follower and just have random sex or sex without love or just jump from one relationship to the other. Pick out something very easy and take whatever I can get. Please, do not take offense anyone! I am not saying anything bad about anyone else and their choices. Simply, that is not me. I have to be true to myself.

Happy New Year

2006-03-21T07:22:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of Spring for us here. Right now, it is 16 degree F and we have 14 inches of snow. Welcome to Wyoming! Typically, March is one of our biggest snow months. We need this moisture, though. We have been in drought for a long time now. This new snow will only help, especially the fishing. Spring time for me is a new beginning. Some places around this small World of ours celebrate the Spring equinox as the New Year and not January 1st. I like this idea. This is how I have always viewed Spring. In the Spring, life becomes new, renewed, blossoms. New hope for the coming year. No looking back in sad reflection of the ending year, just looking forward with excited anticipation. Right now, I can think of only one category in my life that is lacking. There are some that still need some improvement, but they are at least moving in a positive direction right now. Many aspects of my life are doing very well right now. The only one lacking: my love life. Right now, today, it has been 6 years and 5 months since I had a girlfriend. 5 years since I last had sex. How does it look for the new year? Well, a little better than this time last year. Will it happen? I would like to hope so. Sure, I have been looking, but nothing thus far. Thta only adds to the frustration, fueling Mr. C’s fire. Sure, I have meet a few very interesting and intriguing women, but they are all thousands of miles away from me. Not even really sure if they like me that way. Today, I feel hopeful that I will meet someone in this World that is willing to take the time to get to know me and see that I am great guy. Maybe this year I will meet someone who would be willing to give me the opportunity for sex, for making love, for giving me some of their precious time. One can only hope!

why I blog

2006-03-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Many years ago, I had a series of very intense very vivid dreams. They were very ‘realistic,’ complete with sounds and smells and bright, vivid colors, even tactile sensations (hot, cold, wet, etc.). These dreams, that I labeled “holocaust dreams,” kept me awake at night and effected my days. I would wake from them feeling very frightened. When I tried to make sense of them I would find only confusion. Sometimes, I would lie awake for hours contemplating life and who I am and 'what It all means.' I labeled them "holocaust" because the dreams were of nuclear devastation. At this time in my life, 1979 - 1981, I was questioning God and the existence of a Higher Power. I labeled myself agnostic. Of course, at this time period we were at the height of the “Cold War” and all of the worries about nuclear attacks from the Soviet Union. Talk of nuclear bombs and war and all of that was inescapable. On the news, no matter which media form, in conversations in the streets or elsewhere, at home or at work or at play, the topic of nuclear war was constant. Where I live, we have an air force base. Within a 150 mile radius of my city, completely surrounding us, were nuclear bomb silos. Thus, we were considered to be at “ground zero.” We all considered ourselves the lucky ones because we would die first and not have to suffer years of nuclear fall-out poisoning. (this was labeled suicidal tendencies by our nations’ psychiatrists of the time). Then we got those MX missiles here. Any one remember those? How can I forget. No surprise then that my dreams were full of nuclear holocaust. My dreams did not have me looking at the bombs drop on my head and me screaming in agony as my molecules vaporized in the searing heat flash. Oh no, I survived. In fact, I was completely unharmed and often the soul survivor. Everything I knew as life was obliterated or reduced to rubble. No where was life, not even a dog or cat or rodent or tree or flower or blade of grass. All life, all vegetation, all animal and insect and human life had been vaporized. Just me walking around. I would wake and wonder: why me? Why did I have to live and be left alone? This happened 2 sometimes 4 nights a week. I would sometimes not get back to sleep. Finally a friend suggested to do as one of his college professors' suggested, and write them down. Just get up right after the dream and write down every small and every large detail. It worked. I placed a note book and pencil by my bed and when I had a holocaust dream, I would write it down, providing as much details as I could. The dreams stopped, for a time anyway. I kept my ’dream journal’ and wrote down the dreams that were to me significant or intense and vivid. As time went on, I would write about my thoughts and feelings and significant events of my life, and not just my dreams. To this day, I still have a journal I keep. Blogging has taken over, perhaps even, replaced my journals.

Thank you all for you time and your comments.

update for my son and Mr. C

2006-03-18T22:01:00.000-07:00

My son and I had a long talk Friday night. Over 4 hours worth. Seems the story is a bit different than from the way my ex told me. Before I go further, I will try to be objective with this. Most parents, my self especially, have a tendency to favor our off-spring in most, if not all situations. Even if we know in our hearts they are wrong. Throughout this whole lifetime of my son long ordeal with the ex, I have tried my best to listen to my son with my heart AND my head. Hard for me to do at times, yet, with him it seems to come natural. My son has not gotten along well with his step-father since my son was perhaps 6 or 7, sometime shortly after the birth of their own son. Not sure of time lines here because of the distortions with what I have been told, as mentioned earlier. I can recall quit vividly one day my mother and my son talking while I was out of the room, just not out of ear shot. Their were discussing me and who I am in relation to my son. My son told my mother (and I quote) “(my full name) is my pretended father and (the other guy) is my real father.” No, my mother explained, the other way around. Next visitation, the following weekend, my son began calling me “Daddy (my full name)” and the other guy “Daddy (his full name).” Before that he just called me by my first name. Wonder where he got that from? (sarcasm) Back to the present: There are some similarities to the story. First similarity: they were out eating at a restaurant and there was a debate over the phone. Only one other similarity exists. Just to set this up, S, the other guy, had several drinks at the restaurant. According to my son, S was already “mad” before they even got there. In fact, S often comes home from his long day at work angry. He has a drink and becomes even more angry. Each drink he takes, more anger. On the drive home from the restaurant, the argument ensued. The argument escaladed until S pulled over and got out of the car, calling my son out. Yes, asking that they engage in a fist fight. S told my son that the phone “is taking over his life,” grabbed my son’s cell phone, which S paid for, and smashed it on the ground. Then, he got into my son’s face, with his fists raised and called my son out, asking to fight. My son refused and S took off leaving my son there to walk home. According to my son, S often gets in my son’s face and “tries to fight” him. My son did not want to go home, so he went to his friend’s and spent the night. That is the other similarity. Of course, I had lots of emotions and thoughts that I did not allow to run through me. Ultimately, most of those thoughts and feelings, such as I will take care of S myself, see if he wants to call me out (again, because he has before) and see if he would like to follow through with it, would not do any good for anyone and perhaps just make matters worse. The feelings and thoughts I did allow involved me being concerned about legal ramifications and getting my son out of there. We discussed just that and having him move back in with me. However, I made it clear to him that it is his choice, but my best advise for making the matter better. We then discussed my son’s attitude of late. He agreed that it has not been good and that he will do something about it, without any prompts from me. Very good! Per his idea, he will be making 2 lists. One is “bad habits” the other “good habits.” He will focus more on doing the “good” and to find solutions to the “bad.” His troubles with school are typical, so not much was needed there, just to find healthier solutions. The drinking and pot was pinned down to one friend. This guy has been an issue for my son, coming between him and his friends of many years, spreading rumors, demanding that my son do the drinking and drugs and just showing up places uninvited. My son had, previous to our conversation, decided to not have this guy as a friend any more. We did not discuss the pot much further at that time, so we will latter. My son has gotten lots of direction from me on that subject although apparently I should have focused more on peer pressure.

my son and Mr. C

2006-03-18T07:17:00.000-07:00

Since my son was a child, ( we divorced when he was only 4 months old) my ex has been giving me the same old routine. When we first got divorced, she wanted to make her new husband my son’s father. After that did not work, she stopped pushing, but kept playing the game. As my son got older, she resorted to calling me only when there is a ‘crisis.’ Never to tell me he is doing well or joined some sports team or had a school play or he was sick; no, just for the huge issues. Mostly what it comes down to is she calls me when she can not handle the situation herself or she is very frustrated and can not think of any solutions. Even before I obtained my BA in psychology and my professional training with troubled youths, she would call at these times. At first, her drama effected me, but now I just take it with some salt. I do not even stand back and ask why any more because I know it is the residue of her selfishness from my son’s early years and her resentment toward me from our failed marriage. However, there is another aspect of this that sometimes bothers me. Each time she has called and complained and rambled on, she has divulged some information about my son’s behavior that I was previously unaware. Some of it has been significant enough to warrant concern on my part and has caused me to wonder why she, or he, did not tell me about it before. For example, he shot out their neighbor’s window to their house with his BB gun. I found out about that a few months after the fact ( actually she did not remember exactly when it happened, so that gives an indication that the length of time was perhaps longer). I can see where my son would not report to me such incidents. Who can blame him? Would I have done so at his age in that situation? Most likely not and I am not saying he should. However, whenever there has been some ‘reporting’ to do on my part, I have done so in a timely manner, as in telling her at the end of my visitation time. Yet, there are some occurrences that I have not mentioned to her because I took care of it and I did not feel the need to have her input. Just depends on the severity and of course, I try to treat her as I wish to be treated. My son’s best interest comes first and foremost. Last night, 3-16-2006, she calls me on my cell phone. I was at the YMCA volunteering during their annual major fundraising event. I was busy, but I am expected to drop everything and adhere to her drama. If she calls, then it is only to ‘report’ about my son’s negative behaviors. She calls for nothing else ( of which I am very appreciative). She informed me that he had “run off” from home for 2 days and missed some classes at school. Then, she informs me that at an unknown time, he came home stoned. He admitted to smoking pot. Last week, she found 2 empty alcohol bottles in the back of his vehicle. The night he took off, my son had become angry with her husband because he “asked” my son to stop texting on his cell phone while they were out eating dinner at some restaurant. That cell phone and text messaging as been an issue here with me as well. He does it non-stop. While we eat, while we watch movies, while we are in the car, even at the theater. Of course, I made some “house rules” about that and we discussed it and he has stopped doing it so much. Last night, he became belligerent (something he has done only once with me, yet something he does daily with her and her husband) and then “jumped out of the car on the way home.” He spent the night at his friend’s house and then refused to “come home.” Actually, he just went to another friend’s house and was not answering the phone. They confiscated his cell phone, so I can only assume she meant the friend’s phone. My suggestion was to just go over and get him. To me, that was my first thought. Not so for her, I guess. I further suggested that if he choose not to go with her, that I would go and get him. She called me an hour latter and said he came home with her. My son and her husband have had lots of fights. In fact, from about age 10 to 14, that guy would call with his drama and his anger and make comments such as “your son” and “my house,” the typical uncaring step-father antics. He would call at 10 AM and yell at me, sometimes calling me names, and demanding I take care of the situation right then and there. Thankfully, those days have ended, but I still get ‘crisis’ phone calls. To me, there is no surprises with this other than the drugs and alcohol stuff. That is a huge concern for me. I have not spoken to him yet. When he gets here tonight, we will have a few long talks. Last night and this morning, I was upset because I was hoping he would avoid my mistakes with drinking and drugs. Thus far, he has and one time of him trying should not be a major concern, but does warrant attention on my part. Ironically, my son has not done any of these things with me. Now, for the past 2 years since he started high school, there has grown some distance between us. He does not talk to me so much any more, but then, he never really told me his secrets or his problems before. Sure, if I asked and then it was vague and devoid of details. Yet, lately, his attitude has been very poor. He seems angry and aloof and distracted. In my opinion, just typical angry teenager behavior. Oh yes, I monitor it and make suggestions here and there. In that respect, the apple has not fallen to far from the tree, although I was hoping he would roll some distance beyond the trunk and roots. I had been hoping he would be the me now and not the me back then when I was his age. By his age now, a junior in high school, I was a junkie and had been for about 3 years. Not living on the streets, but a ‘functional’ junkie. If he has only smoked pot once or even 20 times, he has indeed fallen far from the tree, just not as far as I had hoped. I have been very careful to not allow Mr. Cynical to affect my actions and behaviors and words with and around my son. Certainly hope there is no “genetic link.”

a visit from Mr. C

2006-03-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

Funny how the next few days, or sometimes longer, are challenging after a nice dream like that. Mr. Cynical came by a visit 2 days ago. I had hoped that by exposing him in such a manner as this would cause him to back off, yet, there he was, just as angry as ever. In fact, I was rather taken back by the intensity of his anger. Standing there observing his behavior, I could not help but be amazed at the level, the degree of anger and hostility he invoked in such a short period. To me, it seemed nearly instantaneous and the anger absolute. I could see him, even feel him, trembling with it. And for what? Why? What prompted this? Not sure, really, perhaps nothing more than just the usual. There was no specific event that occurred, no catastrophic incident, no minor irritation, even. One word triggered this, a word I do not recall, just that the Voices do not often allow for my own personal thoughts. It seems They constantly need to remind me of thoughts and actions and feelings about occurrences that I already know and have already felt. They want to warn me when I am already taking heed of such “danger.” They feel They need to tell me what it is I should think and how I should feel and in which manner I should react when I am plenty capable of doing so on my own and am, in fact, many times, already doing so. Some days it is no so much enjoyable conversing with the ‘dead.’

bikes, viaducts, & raging rivers

2006-03-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

My dream from early this morning, 3-13-2006:

This dream began with me on a mountain bike riding it up a viaduct at night, perhaps after midnight, so, then 'twas very early morning. This viaduct is one of ours here in town that crosses over the railroad tracks just before downtown and onto a busy one way street. The other viaduct, the one I was on, is a one way headed South, leaving downtown. Only, it was much different. It was much steeper and there was no pavement. Instead, there was lots of very large coral and live sea rock that was very rough with many deep, dark crevices. As I began to ride up it, wanting to get to the other side for some unknown reason, I began to consider the challenges. To begin with, the bike was in 3rd gear, making it harder to pedal. My legs felt very heavy and thick. I was very concerned about the bike going too slow, me losing balance and falling into a crevice or having to stop pedaling and falling off the bike, or not making it at all. Stopping was not an option. I began arguing with myself: I can not make it, I need to shift down into first, I am to old and… but I did not stop, I kept going. However, I did shift down into 2nd. Then, I had this huge Enlightened thought. I spoke aloud to myself, “Hey, I have been going to Spinning now for a year. I’m in good shape. I can do this easily.” And I did. The climb became effortless. I could feel the power and strength in my legs. The air flowed easily in and out of my lungs, as though I was not even breathing. I became taller, more muscular, thicker, calm. It was as though I was floating. My mind became quit as I focused totally on the here and now, focused on what my body was doing, just like in Yoga class. The “road” underneath me changed to trimmed hedges with me riding on top. Could have been more treacherous, but my focus remained on the top of the bridge, on my goal. When I reached the top of the viaduct, I slowed and looked down. Instead of the numerous tracks and trains and such there, it was a big river. In Guernsey, Wyoming, there is a large bridge just south of town that crosses the North Plate. When I was a child, that river seemed huge and daunting. I can recall one year when I was about 8 or 9, the year I nearly drowned some 15 miles east of there, there was heavy flooding. That river over ran it’s banks, raging with dirty, mucky water. Tree branches and logs and all kinds of things rushed past. That is exactly how it was in the dream. I looked up from the river to see bright clear blue skies and the Sun setting with an orange sky-line. Still setting on the bike, I held a clinched fist up to the sky as if to say “Right On, Mr. Sun!” I woke feeling very lethargic. I went to the bathroom and as I stood there, letting go, I thought about the dream. Then, I began to feel very good about myself! This dream told me that I have not only the physical strength, but the inner strength to over come and make it not only to the top, but to the other side with no problem. I go to Spinning at 5:30AM, 3 days a week. Sounds crazy, I know, but it is worth it! The dream tells me: I have good tools (the bike) and the support of God ( the Sun) to over come my obstacles in life (the coral, the hedges) and all my troubles and worries ( the raging river) are all just water under the bridge ( or soon will be). With dreams like these, is it any wonder I love naps and sleeping?

me and Mr. Cynical

2006-03-08T17:56:00.000-07:00

Within me are 2 very distinct people. They are as different as dark and light, night and day, good and bad. They both are aware of each other’s existence. At times, they seem to forget how the other thinks and feels, but that awareness is still there. At times, the awareness is far below the surface, way out of mind. At other times, it is very near, clearly in mind. One person I will call the “Cynical” one, the other, the one I wish to always be. Mr. Cynical comes along at any time, any place, for seemingly, no reason. When I am ‘he,’ I am angry, frustrated, confused, bitter, resentful, depressed, self-loathing, foreboding, do everything wrong and do nothing right, very low self-esteem and self-image, fat, ugly, stupid, bald, old, unworthy of love and full of fear. The worst of all possible situations is not just some remotely possible, but the absolute truth and what will indeed become, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the truth and the way. There is no consoling Mr. Cynical. No positive thoughts nor positive affirmations nor encouragement nor good news nor positive events, not matter how wonderful, nor how recent, can cause him to see any beauty or love or anything good in my life or life in general. ALL is bad and always will be. There is never anything good and will never be. He/I acts out by dropping out, being angry at everyone and everything, especially God, because after all, it is entirely God’s Fault for everything. I hate myself and my life. Even having the awareness of the other guy, the actual truth clearly in mind, is sometimes not enough. This guy, he can not stop himself from being so pessimistically cynical. He seemly has no control over his words. Even with the other guy screaming in his ear, Mr. Cynical can not stop being pessimistic and angry. Now, Mr. Cynical, he is not always so morbidly pessimistic. At times, there are layers or levels of his personality. Sometimes he takes over absolutely, at his fullest extreme, instantly. Other times, he is just sort of, kind of cynical and can be reasoned with, and sometimes, he just drops out. That drop out phase or level, well, he just does not care and takes nap. He goes to bed 12 to 14 hours before he has to be up the next day. We/I have all of these wonderful talents in art and music and writing and have time to do all of this needed/necessary creating, but he just sets there thinking it all a waste of time. He will lie on his bed and thump through the channels on the TV, never really watching, but wishing and wondering and asking why everyone is so damn lucky and he is rubbish. Mr. Cynical has a very distorted perception of what is ‘real’ and what is ‘fact.’ The facts, at times, do indeed support his pessimism, his frustration, his foreboding, his lack of trust. He does not understand why his life is so bad and there is no love. Most times, he thinks he is a good person and deserves love, but wonders why he can not have his desires. Just so unfair! God is punishing him. Then at other times, he hates himself and has multiple reasons why he should not even exist, let alone be loved. No matter how angry or resentful or frustrated, Mr. Cynical knows there is a voice in the depths of his mind that says he is wrong. That God does not hate him or that not ALL is bad. Never say never, right? This other guy, the one I wish to be ‘me’ always; he is a great guy! He is kind, caring, considerate, funny, witty, intelligent, charming, talented, thoughtful, patient, intuitive, happy, and joyful. He has tons of love from all sorts of people and places and things and ways. This guy’s life has lots of ‘great’ and lots of ‘pretty darn good’ and tons of ‘it is all getting much better each and everyday.’ This guy has a calm, deep sense of “knowing.” He “knows” that one day he will have everything he has ever desired. That is all just a matter of time and patients and trusting and some good effort here and there. During the best of times, he forgets all about Mr. Cynical. In fact, he can not even recall how it feels or why he would even consider feeling that way. Mr. Cynical hates the other me. Yet, deep down inside, he wants to be him. Some days, these boys conflict. Mr. Cynical sees it as fighting, where as the other guy, he just views this as a part of life that he is working through and learning to cope with and to improve.

can we love

2006-01-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

When I am angry, I cloud everything. Frustration makes me angry, very little else. That feeling of being hopeless or not in control or unable to know what and how and where and why becomes an ugly beast of burden instead of a magic carpet for me to fly around to see what fun and excited adventures are waiting for me. When frustration takes hold, all I can see is the negative. Nothing will be good, nothing has ever been good, everything is bad, everything will always be bad. A very typical 'all or nothing' cognitive distortion. (learned that in college I did, funny that I was always living it)

The past few days though, I have not been so frustrated, just flustered and confused. I made a resolve, before New Years and while in Jamaica, to make a good strong effort to find someone to love. So, again, I signed up on some dating website. I did some looking, but I only wrote to Jamaican women. Why? Because I fell in love with Jamaican people and the women there seem to be a very good match for my wants and desires. I got several quick responses. I have gotten some e-mails and even spoke on the phone to one. Yeah! Well, I got a letter from some ‘woman’ who lives in Africa last week. I do not know who the person is in those photos, but WOW! After seeing her, all other women just seem ordinary. Yet, there was just too much wrong with this. I wrote back and after only 2 e-mails, they asked for money. That is where I began to become flustered and confused. Everything began to get very cloudy. Clarity became a commodity.

Yesterday morning, 1-14-2006, something very interesting happened. I was having this intense dream. I do not remember any details from it, just that I was very busy doing some type of work. At some point, I recalled slightly waking, then turning over to face the opposite direction that is toward the wall during the dream. I was headed for some seriously deep REM time. Then, I psychically felt some one poke me on the back of my shoulder with their finger. One of those type of ‘excuse me can I have your attention please’ pokes. As I quickly woke-up, I could ‘see’ a woman, but not sure who, behind me. As I became more awake and logic took over, I thought it was my son, so I woke-up and turned to face the direction of the finger. There was no one there. About 5 minutes later, my cell phone rang.

Latter that day, I was able to find some clearly, well actually, last night. With the clarity, I got some messages. Focus only on Jamaica. Very early this morning, I had an interesting dream just before I got up. There was tons of tan colored blocks, set-up like stairs. They were large enough for me to stand on them, which I was doing and walking along. Each one of the blocks represented a relationship of mine of all sorts. Not just girlfriends, but people I have written to in other countries, or friendships or working relationships, n' 'nat. They also represented different parts of the World. As I walked around on them, descending South, I could recall who and what I learned from them. Symbolically, I was moving past them. After I had stepped on all of the blocks, reviewing, I reached the last 4. There were no more left. Causally, I slowly stepped down onto the first one, being very careful and fully aware. All directions were in my sight, all sides, above and below. Above me, clear blue warm sky. Below, clear blue ocean water. Then those last 4 separated from the all the others and began to float out to sea, above Jamaica. The blocks all turned black. They began to slightly reshape representing certain body types. One was a woman who is a little over weight with very large breasts. Another, average. The last two, thin and petite. All very good people and worthy of my love. Sorry to sound so arrogant, but that has been the big issue. I have lots of good things going on for myself and I can give tons of love, yet, I seem to be meeting only those who can not accept nor return that love. One of those blocks is my 'her.' Two of those blocks, I know already are not right, the last two, one of them is my 'one.' I woke up with the confirmation I got from my messages last night “focus on Jamaica.” The dream suggests that I have already made contact with her through the internet.

new ride!

2006-01-09T17:32:00.000-07:00

Just got a new car today! It is a 2002 Saturn SLII. This is the nicest car I have ever owned. And the best part, no payments! All that extra work I did over Christmas vacation allowed me to save up some cash to just write them a check. It has a great stereo system in it! I cranked her up all the way and wow!!! It has a CD player/cassette player with an eq. The first CD I played: Bob Marley. It sounded great! This car has less than 60,000 miles and is spotless inside and out. The engine compartment looks brand new as does the interior. It did not look to good there for a while for me getting it. The place I bought it from is going out of business. They have been our Lincoln/Mercury, Pontiac, Subaru dealership for many years. They started out over 91 years ago. I saw an add on TV on Christmas Day while kind of half watching football. My son and I drove down there that night and I saw this car. I came home and checked it out on the internet and noticed they were asking a very good price for it. So, the following Tuesday, I test drove it and put a deposit down for it. I get paid from the State on Mondays, so I told them I would be back on the 9th, today, to get her. Well, the next day, the dealership called me and said they had 4 other people who wanted to buy it. The guy asked me all kinds of questions about my deposit check and my work. I had an experience before when I had put a deposit down on a car and they sold it to someone else. Not this same dealership, but I was feeling like they were either pressuring me or thinking about screwing me. They are going out of business, so what leverage do I have? So, I drove by that evening and they had a sold sign in it. I drove by last Friday, too, but the car was gone. I did not expect them to put it away somewhere and I did expect them to let others look at it. They need to cover their backs just incase my deal feel through. This morning, I went to my bank and the State did not pay me for all of my funding. I ended up being $300 short. So, I dropped my client off, came home and called the State. They had sent me this e-mail last Tuesday, the 3rd, saying they had a system clinch. It said I had to make my billing before 5:00PM on that day. Well, it was 4:30PM and I was just making a quick check of my e-mail before Yoga at 5:00PM. Normally, the billing needs to be done on Wednesday before 5:00PM, then they deposit the funds in my bank account on Monday. I did everything they said and on time. Well, they did not pay it. That was $600. Nothing I can do about it. They did not get it done and I will not get the fund until next Monday. The dealership would not hold until then. My parents were not home and I had no idea where they where. I called my sister, not home or at work. I went to the dealership. The car was not there. I told him I would be back shortly to get the car. Finally, at 2:15, my parents came home. They loaned me the $300 I was short. During all this, I just tried to remain positive, but I also told myself if I did not get, well, there are others around. Not as in good as shape as this one, though, especially for that price. I paid $6,900. They only gave me $600 for trade-in on my old one. That is where the $300 came in for me. The Kelly Blue Book is $9,300 on this car, so I got a very good deal on it. They gave me a 90 day/4,000 mile warranty, as well. It is fully loaded with all the fancy electrical/power stuff. YEAH!!!
Thank you God for the new car!!!

funding 'rules'

2006-01-07T08:27:00.000-07:00

From my very early days of working with DD/MR people, I have known that the funding for services for an DD/MR person is dependent on the person’s served functioning levels and their specific needs and issues. Last Thursday night, 1-05-06, at one of my client’s IPC meetings, I learned something new about it. I have to say, it makes little sense to me. When the person served turns of legal age of consent, which is 21 for DD/MR people, they have a major evaluation to determine their service needs and funding. They are no longer considered to be children who are mostly dependent on their parents or guardians at 21 and are considered to be at the stage of their life to be an independent adult, as much as they can, anyway. The State uses some complex formula of IQ, cognitive and physical abilities, the specific disorders and issues. Makes perfect sense, right? However, they also factor in the person’s current situation. All well and fine, except that this initial determent does NOT change, throughout the person’s entire life time! In some very few, very select cases, the person may have some very slight changes over their entire life. However, and my issue with this is, how many people actually have little or no changes in their life’s? Very few. Then how is it that the State can even remotely consider the fact of not ever changing there funding ruling? That is just absurd to me!
In Wyoming, a DD/MR person can stay in high school until they are 21. There is a very good program for them to attend that teaches them life skills like cooking and cleaning and they also get job skills. If the person happens to turn 21 sometime before the end of this program, they can stay until the school session is over for that year. If a person served is evaluated at that time, then obviously their current situation is going to change. Well, obvious to me anyway. It is the State’s ‘rule’ to not allow them to continue going after they turn 21. Yet, they make a life time determination of funding for services and factor in that they are going to school and not working and still living with their parents. My main client, R, is a prime example of this. This is exactly what has happened to R. When R was initially evaluated last year, R was still going to school and not working. R’s funds were set-up to be 10 hours per week. That is all R really needed, then. Now, R is out of school, living in an apartment separate from R's parents, and working a job 5 days a week. R can not maintain a job without a job coach. R has been fired from everyone of R’s jobs prior to me and constant supervision because of R’s issues. In R's case manger’s and R's parent’s opinion, R may never be able to function enough to be without supervisor at work. There are some other serious factors and issues that I can not discuss here because of confidentiality that need addressed in order for R to maintain independence and safety. Therefore, R needs 25 hours a week of services now, not 10. Yet, the funding will not change. I just do not see the logic in this. Maybe there is, but I can not see it. R’s case manager said they are working to change this ‘rule,’ but why was it even a ‘rule’ to begin with?

The problem for me now is that I have to provide R with 25 hours a week services on funds that were set-up for 10. In other words, I have to work nearly 3 times more hours for the same money. I really feel at times that the State just takes advantage of the providers. Anyway, I am hoping it can get changed for R. It will just take some time.

I was hoping in this new year my business would grown and things would happen for the better. 2006 it is starting off getting worse, not better.

Merry New Year Everyone!!

2005-12-31T08:54:00.000-07:00

2005 was not so bad for me. In fact, last year saw many improvements for me in many aspects of my life from the previous year. 2004 was better than ‘03 and each year for the past 3 has gotten much better than the previous. I am hoping that 2006 will see just as much positive progress as 2005. From here, 2006 looks very promising. Yet, I would trade it all for someone to love and who will love me in return. I would gladly suffer 18 months of unemployment and the worst health again if I had love with me.

At Midnight tonight will be my ‘birthday.’ 16 years of clean and sober. The first 10 seemed like a breeze, but the last 6 have been tough. Years 10 through 13 were brutal. The last 3, well, they have each improved as time has progressed. The desires and longing and struggling with myself to not drink or do drugs has become less intense and less frequent from 10 through 13. That trip to Jamaica could have been very challenging with all the beer drinking and ganja smoking going on around me, but I had no desires or feelings of wanting to drink or smoke there, or since. That only seems to occur when I am very depressed or frustrated. That should tell me or anyone that I am an addict who only seeks to escape and not a disease that I have no control over. Oh yes, I admit I have problems with it, but I am usually able to work through it. Who cares how it should be described or labeled? I do not because my only choice is to live with it. Either I beat it or it beats me.

I hope you all have tremendous sucess in your 2006!

more on Christmas

2005-12-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

One other thing about Christmas, I can never sleep on Christmas Eve. Of course, when I was a child I was very excited about Santa and gifts and all that. To this day, I still do not sleep well. I wake up and can not get back to sleep or toss and turn and not fall to sleep at all. There are some “holiday traditions” that I do not care so much about. I do not like eggnog or fruitcake or pumpkin pie. My Grandmother used to make pumpkin bread and cake that as really good and I like pumpkin cookies and pumpkin seeds, but not pumpkin pie. I always thought that I would like to start my own tradition with my own family. I think we should have a birthday cake and sing happy birthday to Jesus. After all, it is his birthday, yes? Do we not have cake and ice cream for other’s birthdays? Maybe I am just a dork.

Christmas traditions and my family

2005-12-23T18:41:00.000-07:00

Each family has their own little twists and ways of doing things for the holidays, so I thought I would tell you about ours. My family exchanges gifts on Christmas morning. When we were kids, we were allowed to open one gift before we went to bed on Christmas Eve. As we got older and got to be teenagers and beyond, we would have some of our friends over. Then, it turned into a big party each year. We would take turns having it at each other’s houses and have Christmas Day at my parent’s. When we were children, we always went to my Grandma Mary’s house for Christmas in Guernsey, along with ever holiday and most weekends. This is my father’s mother. When my father’s sister and her family moved from Des Moines, Iowa to Torrington, 30 miles from my Grandmother‘s, they would come to every thing as well. As we all got married and started having children, we stopped going to my Grandmother’s. Shortly after, she died. There was just too much going on there. My family, that part of it anyway, fights often. There was tons of drinking and smoking and drugs. There was always huge fights that most often resulted in actual physical stuff. One year, on the 4th of July, my cousin pulled a gun on my uncle. The fun had gone out of it and the family was just too big for my Grandma’s very small house. Plus, after my Grandfather died, my Grandmother was ill all the time and it was just too unfair for her to have to cook so much and work so hard. So, we would just do our own thing here with my brother and sister and all of our own kids and spouses. Christmas Eve turned into a huge drinking night. My mother would not allow drinking on Christmas Day at her house, so we had to fit it all in the night before. There was one night that we drank beer and Schnapps and smoked cigars and played cards all night. At 4:00AM, my sister noticed they had not put any of her girls’ Santa gifts together yet. So, there was 3 extremely drunk idiots, my sister’s husband, my best friend and myself, trying to put together a canopy bed for my niece. Needless to say, it did not get done. At 6:00 AM, we all decided we needed to go home and get ready because we had to be at my mother's at 8:00. Sometime, I do not know when, my wife had left. I had to get a ride home from my friend. I was extremely hung-over that Christmas. Yes, I know, what a dumb-ass. I have a nice photo of me face down in a recliner, sleeping it off to remind me.

In my sister’s senior year at high school, she got really drunk on the last day of school before Christmas break. She and her friends began drinking peppermint Schnapps in the morning. Early that night, her friends dumped her in our front yard. Just rolled her out of the car and drove off. My father came home from work to find her passed out, stone cold to the World in our front yard. She was still throwing-up on Christmas morning, 3 days latter. Each time she smelled a candy cane, she ran to the bathroom. She still has a taste aversion for peppermint to this day. There are never any candy canes at her house.

Okay, so, then, divorces happened and people moved and friends moved on and I stopped drinking and all that. No longer was it a big party any more, except for my sister and what ever guy she was with at the time. We still get together, but it is not the same. The last 6 or 7 years, I have been making my famous egg rolls and hot wings. My nieces bring their friends over and they all beg for about a month before each year for me to make them. I will be doing so this year.

Trevor’s step-father’s family does their gift exchanges on Christmas Eve. That works out well for me. They go to church that night as well, like lots of people. I have never been to church on Christmas Eve or Day. Since my sons’ second Christmas, he has spent Christmas Eve with his mother and then comes over to my house in the morning. His first one, well that is a story. In our divorce papers, we are supposed to have it that each of us trade off everyone year, not just for Christmas, but all holidays and his birthday. It was supposed to be mine for his first one, but she thought otherwise. A few days before, I called to make arrangements to pick him up, but she was not there. Her soon to be husband said she was out to happy hour with the girls from work. She called me back, much latter, drunk, and told me I was not going to see him. So, that next morning I called my lawyer and asked what my options and my rights were, then called her back. Before she could open her mouth, I told her I was taking him. In Wyoming, a parent can not denied visitation to the other parent. Even if they do not pay any child support, they can not be denied visitation. The parent who does deny can go to jail for it. So, I informed her of my rights and she backed off and we have settled with this arrangement ever since. In fact, I have had him for nearly all of the holidays and all of the weekends.

I miss going to my Grandma’s. I miss her food and her small house and just seeing her. I miss my son being little and watching him open gifts and playing with his toys with him. I miss Legos and Lincoln Logs. There are some very special memories for me. One year, I think maybe he was 4 or 5, just learning to talk well and walk well on his own, we were at the Mall before Christmas. I think I was shopping or something and he sat down on the floor and began playing with some toys while I was at the check-out. See kids do this all the time, but he had never done that before, or since, now that I think about it. He was playing with some rubber ‘men’ action figure type things. They were superheroes, like Spiderman and stuff. I noticed they were cheap. So latter on, after I took him home when the weekend was over, I went back and bought 3 of them for him. It was just a last minute thing, no thoughts to it. When he open them, he pulled them out and yelled, very excitedly, “I got guys!!” He showed them to me, and said it again, very loudly. He held them up for every body, walked them around to everyone and said it over and over. I will never forget that. I get a little tear in my eye when I think about it. I can still see it clearly in my mind and hear it just as if he is saying now.

I love to buy gifts for others. I get it from my mother. I am sure we will be out tomorrow, last minute buying, even though she said she has already gotten everyone all their gifts. She does it every year. This year, I have not had much Christmas spirit. My heart and my mind are still in Jamaica. Usually, I take my time buying gifts. I start early, before Thanksgiving. I try to go all the different stores, avoiding Wal-Mart as much as possible (do not want to fed the monster, if you know what I mean), and spread the wealth. This year, I did it all in one day. In fact, in less than 2 hours. I have not heard much Christmas music this year. That is okay though, because usually by now, I am a little sick of it already. I like it, but I just do not like it so much to hear it all the time. I have not gone to one Christmas party this year. At least this year I am not feeling so depressed and lonely because I do not have any one special in my life.

Anyway, Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!

These are some of my friends.

2005-12-17T07:33:00.000-07:00

The black bass is new, just got it 2 weeks ago. It is a BC Rich “Warlock.” Do not play bass so much any more, but I have always wanted one of these. It is the style the 80’s hair bands used to play, although this one is an early 1990‘s model. They are usually pricey and hard to find around here. I bought it used at a pawn shop here for $300 with a case. The blue one is new as well, just got it last week. It is a semi-hollow body electric Dean. The detail photo shows off the cool pearl sun fret markers. Dean does not make these any more, from what I understand. The maroon one is my oldest one, a Washburn. The other is a Dean acoustic “Resonator.”

“I don’t like spam!”

2005-12-14T19:01:00.000-07:00

Spam… spam, spam, spam. Spam… spam, spam, spam.

“Haven’t you got anything without spam in it?”

Spam sucks!!! It is the swollen, puss oozing, rectal swore of the World! I do not like in my e-mail, that is bad enough, then in my blogs! Now, today, I got a frriggin’ spam in my text messaging on my cell phone!! Ughhhhhhhhhh!!!!

“SHUT-UP!!! Bloody Vikings!”

That was a ruddy funny skit on "Monty Python’s Flying Circus," though.

"He's not dead, he's restin'."

more photos

2005-12-10T09:42:00.000-07:00

This is Tosha Kay in her school uniform (blue dress). All the school kids have to wear a uniform and they are all different for each school. Alissa with Trevor is in her uniform for nursing college.

more of Alissa
Tosha and Allissa braided my hair

Some of the family, Mon

2005-12-10T08:28:00.000-07:00

My brother and his wife.

This is one of Richard’s daughter’s, Alissa, with my son. She is so pretty and so smart and the sweetest person I think I have ever met. She is 18 or I would think she is my perfect mate. She had a big crush on my son and asked me is they could marry.
Center photo is another of Richard’s daughter’s, Tosha Kay. She wanted to marry me, but she is only 16. And another of Richard’s daughter’s.

This is Richard and my brother. Richard is the guy who’s house the wedding was at and where we spent lots of time eating and hanging-out.

Jamaica, Yah, Mon

2005-12-09T07:35:00.000-07:00

This is where we stayed, Global Villa. It is like a bed and breakfast type place. We did not stay at some all-inclusive resort. We were among the locals. Global Villa had a nice biog kitchen and we had an excellent cook. Boy, did I eat!!! All Jamaican food, all jerk chicken and fish and pork and goat and lots of fruits and vegetables. We had lobster for Thanksgiving. It rocked!!!! This place is half way between Montego Bay and Negril. There is only 2 airports (well, for tourists anyway) in Jamaica. They are in Montego Bay (which we came in on) and Kingston that is on the South side of the island. Negril has 7 miles of white sand beach. That is where all the big fancy all-inclusive resorts are located. Global Villa is known also as a “travel halt” that the tour buses that transport the visitors to and from Negril stop for Red Strips and the rest rooms. Red Strip is the only beer made in Jamaica. There is only 2 imports, Heineken and Guinness. There is no American beers. No, I do not drink so I did not try any of it. There is only Pepsi for sodas, no Coca Cola products. All the Pepsi stuff is made there in Jamaica. I feel in love with this stuff called “Ting” (which is actually thing but they do not have a ‘th’ sound in their language) that is made form local grapefruits. It is very similar to Squirt, just a whole lot better. One bottle (no cans there, yeah!) was $50 Jamaican. 50 J is about 30 cents American. I am not much of a soda drinker, but I put down about 4 of those Tings a day. There is a big main highway that runs around the island. That is where our villa was located, just about 10 kilometers west of a small town called Lucea (pronounced Lucy).Montego Bay is east of Negril. We did some shopping in Lucea for food and stuff, but there is no tourist stuff there. Across the road form our villa was the volcanic rock on the shore. About a 5 minute walk was a nice little beach. We had it all to ourselves most of the time until the local kids saw us, anyway.

TWENTY YEARS AGO TODAY

2005-12-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

“It was twenty years ago today,” the deejay announced. Immediately, I knew he was speaking about more than an allusion to a Beatle’s song, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” He spoke about an anniversary.

“Wow,” I spoke aloud, “was that today?” Yes, yes it was twenty years ago today, December 8th, 2001. My heart sank and my mood sunk even lower. Listening to the radio for my daily commute to work is standard. This old car‘s tape deck has not worked in years. Living in Boulder, Colorado or more specifically, a far Northern portion called “Gun Barrel,” makes my 45 minute drive along Highway 287 to the psych hospital in Louisville trying at times. Today, it seems timeless. After the shock and depression sunk in, my feelings went to shame and guilt for having forgotten that today is the day it happened. “How could I have forgotten?” I asked myself, but I know why.

The disc jockey began talking to a caller. The radio station was taking calls, having people comment on what they remembered about that day. Where were they at? What were they doing when they “heard the news, today, oh boy?” My thoughts went back to that night, twenty years ago.

20 years old, living with my parents, working at a meaningless job, and living a mundane life. That night, I was home watching “Monday Night Football” alone. My father was at work, my mother was in bed a sleep. I do not remember the teams who were playing because I had no real interest. I was just waiting time. Nothing better to do, nothing better to watch on the TV. It was no different a night, or day, than any other. My mood was already melancholy, but when Howard Cosell made the announcement, it felt as though my life was over. Between plays, around 8:20 PM Mountain time, Howard told me of a breaking story, an epic tragedy. John Lennon had been shot dead in the streets in front of his New York apartment building.

My thoughts went to my cell phone and making my comments on the radio. There was just too much shock and disbelieve for me that night to focus on football. I thumped through the TV channels, looking for the news story. We did not have any CNN or FOX News back then on our cable, so I did not find anything. I waited for the news at 10:00PM and got some vague information and confirmation. As I went to sleep, why and how and all of that never came to mind. My childhood is what trudged through.

August, 1969 through August, 1971, I lived in a large trailer park in Casper, Wyoming. This was ghetto Wyoming. The trailers had no skirting, no green lawns, many had 5 or 6 children and a non-working or non-existent father. Many boys and girls my age lived there. Some where my friends, most were just a bunch of bullies to me. There was a group of 3, including myself, who hung together most often. One, named Donnie, decided one day that we should be the Beatles. He was to be Paul because in his opinion, Paul was the leader. Donnie had to always be in charge. Me, I did not care so much, so I was designated John. I knew very little about them before this, but shortly after, I knew a lot. Donnie’s idea was for us to lip-sinc to the records and ’perform’ in front of some of the girls he was trying to score with back then. I was 10. I had no idea what scoring was or what girls were about, but I knew they were cute and very interesting, so I played along. We would gather at my house, go back to my bedroom and pretend we were the Beatle’s. We played our air guitar and mimicked the music as best we could then. That was a lot of fun for me and the girls loved it! One day, my father came home with the "Abbey Road” album. He liked the song “Hey, Jude.” My father has been traditional country his whole life. He hated “drugged-out hippy music” back then, so this was a huge shocker for me. He walked straight to the stereo, pulled-out the record, then played the song. Then, as the song began to change and the lyrics stop, my father stopped the song. His comments were that this was a very good song, but he did not like how they sang it. In his words, “it is like a beautiful poem being screamed in your ears.” That sold me. I sat in front of the stereo and stared at the cover. I memorized every small faction of the album cover while I listened to "Hey, Jude" 3 or 4 times. Then, without asking, I took it back to my bedroom and played the album in it’s entirety over and over. I listened with my full attention to every word, searching hard to find significance and meaning. Oh, yes, I found plenty.

The deejay began to encourage more people to call in and gave the number to call. My heart and my mind are just to full to record it to memory long enough to call. I want to call and tell him that the next day, I heard the full story. First, was the newspaper (of which I still have the article to this day). Never before had I read the newspaper first thing in the morning before work. I just had to know. Why was not clear, just that some idiot shot John Lennon. Why began to mount in my mind, consuming my thoughts. Then, a few days later, I heard the news. This person wanted to be famous. He wanted to have his name go down in history. Shooting someone famous was his way of finding recognition. Something inside me broke. What an absolutely absurd reason to kill someone! I am sorry, young man, but I do not know your name. I made it a point to not recall your name. You are not famous to me nor are you even a human being to me.

My ride is over and I have no time to set and listen any more. As I walk to the door for work, I began to notice that the deejay did not mention the guys name. In fact, he said he would not ever mention the murderer of John Lennon’s’ name, ever on the air. Thank you! After walking to the time clock and beginning my shift, I began to wonder if any of the adolescents I will be working with today would even know who John was or even like the Beatles. It all seemed to be lost .

Today, it is 25 years ago. In one of my college classes, “Criminal Psychopathology” we watched a film about John Lennon’s assailant. The guy was ill, very ill. Still was at that time, will always be to me. He was a huge ‘fan.’ Just seems so strange to me. That film gave me a much better understanding of why he did what he did back then. I do not have resentment, but I still do not know his name. Even if I did want to put his name in this story, I do not remember it. Do not want to, not ever, even though that was not his whole reasoning for the murder.

Today, I am sad, yes, but also because of the loss of George Harrison as well. I remember the day he died, I cried like a child. Perhaps I was still holding it in for John. There is more to it than that, though. Back in Casper, I began to see that there was life other that what I knew it. I began to learn about spirituality, about being a good person and respecting life and others. I did not get that so much from my parents and peers. With George’s death, I realized that I learned more about God and spirituality from him and the other Beatles than I ever had from any church or adult or peer. The night of George’s death, I was setting at the dinner table with my parents, watching the news. My tears had finally stopped, but then the TV news began to talk about it. They were interviewing some guy and his words brought my tears back. “The 60’s have never seemed so far away." Not just some comment about the passing years and age, but about a state of mind. About an ideal of World peace and harmony. About free love and.. Well, you had to be there. Sure, I was only 10, but I remember. We could sure use some of that now.

They come in 3’s: duce

2005-12-06T19:16:00.000-07:00

A few blogs ago, I wrote about ‘bad’ things happening in 3’s. A friend suggested to me, mer , that ‘good’ things also happen in 3’s. Well, today, it was the ‘good.’ Each year for my business, I have to re-certify. The State has tons of regulations and miles of red tape and endless paperwork they like to impose on us providers. It has been near 2 months preparation for me. Today was my meeting. I got my re-cert! Then, my client, R, that I mentioned about in the 'bad' blog who was losing his job, got one today. I had made a proposal to the Animal Shelter where we have been volunteering at for the past 9 months and today they accepted! #3, I asked someone out and she said yes!

Vacations: you work twice as hard before and twice as hard after. Sorry, everyone, but I have been swamped! I will hopefully get caught-up by this weekend. A very special thank you to Elvira!!!!! You are the best!!!

2005-12-03T11:43:00.000-07:00

This is Eugene. He was our taxi driver and guide. He is also the brother of the sister whom is married to the man who’s house we spent much of our time and where the wedding was located. Have you ever meet a person whom you felt was a true soul mate? Not some sexual partner or spouse, but a brother or sister? One whom you have known many life times? That is Eugene to me. He was a super nice guy, so mellow and smart. We had many “nice chats” about our cultures. In Jamaica, a “nice chat” is a good, informative, pleasant, intellectual conversation. There is so very many customs and norms and values that I very much love and respect about Jamaica. I grew-up in some very small towns in Wyoming. When a person walked by you in the streets, you made good eye contact. There was a warm greeting from the heart. There was no pretend compliments. Asking how a person is had meaning, not just some shallow greeting. These days, when someone says “How are you?” most do not want an answer nor do they care. In Jamaica, just like in my childhood, if someone says something, they mean it. There are no empty promises. If they say they will call, they do. If you are invited back, then you know you are a part of the family and considered to be a friend. That invitation is not some shallow response to a person leaving with a secret hope that they will not return ever again. If they do not like you, they say so. Every body there was so happy! There was no one in the streets or at the places we went or at any of the parties or events we attended that not only did not fight but did not even argue. Everyone was very friendly to us. The only grumpy people I met were in the airport customs, but they were still very polite. I did not want to leave Jamaica. No, not because of the weather. I do not like hot weather. The reasons are the people and the life style. We had a 2 hour delay in Miami coming back because of the weather. I was so used to looking everyone in the eye and saying hello and giving and receiving smiles. Every damn person at the airport, the Americans, were so damn rude to me. We had to eat because we were not getting food on the plane. I ate Pizza Hut because I thought I missed pizza. It was so greasy and salty and god awfully unhealthy that I nearly puked. Honestly, without any exaggeration, I did not see one Jamaican woman that I thought was not attractive. Even the older ones. Every woman was pretty and most were as my sister said, “drop dead gorgeous.” The first American woman I saw on the plane when we were leaving was in her early 20’s and blonde and thin and tanned and before I would of thought her very hot but she just seemed plain and ordinary. Every woman I talked to in Jamaica was not only pleased to have me talk to them, but they gave me their full attention. It was so easy for me. I felt relaxed and comfortable. I did not feel like I was going to say something that was not PC and make them mad and get yelled at and some damn I-am-holler-than-you attitude and how dare you even speak to me. I get that often here. There, they call that being silly, here, we call it progress. I do not want to whine, but I came back feeling like I am living in the wrong country. I can guarantee you that I would not be blogging about being lonely and not having a family of my own if I lived there. I had so many chances to get laid it was like I was the only man alive. Did I? NO, because I am not that type of person. I could have easily found a wife and been very happy. But, silly me, I have to have it perfect. Right now, my plans are to go back. Perhaps this summer. I will go for 3 or 4 weeks and I will find a wife. Thanks for listening. More latter.

To my friends:

2005-12-02T16:44:00.000-07:00

Hey, I am back! I had a great time in Jamaica! This photo is of me in my favorite spot at the Villa. Yes, I got my hair braided. I would set there for long periods and watch the ocean and the people and just chill. I took 282 photos so it will take me a little time to go through them and upload some on here. There will be lots of stories for each set of photos, so stay tuned! Hope you all are doing well.

what is right and what is easy

2005-11-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

For the past month or so, I have had this interesting feeling. That feeling is just waiting there, crawling around under the surface, snacking on my conscious. That feeling has already devoured my sub-conscious, biding it's time to get out. That feeling is not ready to come out yet and even if it did, I would not allow it. For the past 5 years or so, my intuition has been shot. I have been blocking it with my fears and doubts. Somedays, it is there and I can readily feel it, but not these days. I just tell myself I do not care, but I know I do, very much so, care deeply and want my intuition back. I do not want to be that psychic who does taro readings at the VFW, just a guy who can follow his heart and allow it to guide him again. As I have mentioned, repeatedly and perhaps obsessively, I am tired of being alone and not having a wife/girlfriend/lover. When that feeling surfaces briefly, it tells me that my life is going to be different once I get back from Jamaica. Perhaps, my life will change while I am there. Perhaps I will met someone or perhaps I will just lose some of what keeps me from my intuition. Maybe things will not happen until a few months after I get back, I do not know. I suspect that even if that feeling did fully expose itself to me, I would still not know any of that. Perhaps that feelings purpose for hiding and only teasing me is to make sure that I am ‘aware’ and ‘open.’

The past 2 weeks, I have been frustrated. I have had a strong urge to just take over. I have been just telling myself that getting laid is the answer. Forget about love and a relationship and all of that and just score. After all, I have done my best and have fallen very short of the mark in finding love. I even went on that Adult Friend Finders site and found many possible candidates for my little scheme. Yes indeed, I am going to just get some damn sex no matter if God or anyone likes it. That was my plan, anyway.

Yesterday, Trevor and I went to see the new Harry Potter. It was great! I think it was the best one so far. The movie fell far short of all the details in the book, but that book was the longest to date in the series. Most movies fall short of the books in my opinion. At times, I was glad that I read the book because the movie was a bit confusing at times. There was a quote at the end of the movie that was a 'message' for me. Professor Dumbledore told Harry, "Now things will be a choice between what is right and what is easy.” The right way is always the hardest it seems and the easy way is the one that hurts and damages. If one thinks about Good and Evil, why would anyone want to Evil when it only delivers pain and torture and nothing good comes from it? Evil’s greatest asset is that it is easy. That is why many people take the ‘wrong’ path, because it is so much easier. Going to one of those on-line sex sites is the easy way, not the right way for me. I can easily find someone to just have sex with and then what? There would be a huge price to pay. It would be a step backward, not forward for me.

After that feeling of understanding and acceptance followed through me, I did not thank God but began to become a little upset. I asked when? How much longer? I began telling God that I am sick of waiting so damn long for what is right. Every woman in my life so far has not been ‘right.' So, when? No more do I want some woman who has this little thing here or that big there ‘wrong’ with her that keeps her from being ‘right’ for me.

These times bring up the question for me about Free Will. Do we really have it? Of course, I could do the easy thing, but you know, I have tried. I went on that same site 3 years ago and got nothing. I sent out their version of contacts to every single woman within a 100 mile radius of me. All of them! I got nothing from any of them. Not one! Tell me I am so hideous that no one wants to have sex with me and I will say that is impossible. Sure made me feel like though. What answer for it is there then? Devine Intervention. Can be nothing else. Safe me from myself. So, where is my Free Will then? Why was I not allowed to make that mistake when so many others are? At that time in my life, any sex with any woman would have not been good for me. I needed time to heal and grow. That would have put me back into my rut and then what? So, perhaps deep down I did not want it to happen and some how I made it not happen.

Okay, so I did and I do Thank God for the message. What do I do now? That is the real question. Where is the message for that? Jamaica?

"Three about me"

2005-11-19T07:37:00.000-07:00

Tag from another blogger, "Three about me" fromShithouse rat , elvira black
I am doing it her way and not the original.

Three things I like in a person:
1. Honesty
2. Intelligence
3. A good heart

Three accomplishments I'm proud of:
1. My son
2. Getting my 2 A.A. and my B.A.
3. My son

Three big-time fears:
1. Not having love
2. Not having love
3. Being alone forever

My three diagnoses:
1. Bipolar disorder (type II)
2. Anti-Social Personality Disorder (bs)
3. Self-Inflicted-Chemically-Induced PTSD

Three fervent beliefs:
1. God (or a Higher Power)
2. Karma
3. Afterlife-Past life’s

Three reasons I'm lame:
1. Low self-image
2. Poor impulse control with food
3. Too nice

Three guilty pleasures:
1. Chocolate
2. Naps
3. Ice cream

Three of my favorite bands:
(No way can I pick just 3, but.. And not in any order)
1. The Beatles
2. Elton John
3. Black Sabbath

Three great things about Cheyenne (or your city):
1. Low population
2. Very close to the mountains, lakes and streams
3. Good people

Three not-so-great things about Cheyenne (or your city):
1. Wind
2. No-growth attitude by those in control
3. Did I mention the wind?

Three kinds of blogs I don't love (personal blogs, not informational/link-ish blogs):
1. People who hate others
2. Blogs that do not allow comments.
3. Umm…

Three things I wish for:
1. Total Enlightenment for everyone
2. To find true love
3. My son to be successful in his life

Three things that make me sad:
1. Child abuse
2. Cruelty to animals
3. Being alone so much

Three things I studied in college:
1. Psychology
2. Art
3. American literature

Three things I'm good at:
1. Art
2. Helping others
3. Music

Okay, so let’s see yours.

the edge is off

2005-11-18T16:29:00.000-07:00

Last night was the banquet for my son’s football team. A part of me was dreading going and facing more of the pain. However, after I got there and the coaches began giving out awards, I felt better. My son lettered again and got special recognition for not missing any work-outs through out the entire year, not just during football season. When the head coach began talking about all of the accomplishments of this year, I began to let go of that pain and resentment and disappointment. Well, the resentment was never really there. My disappointment was in my confusion of not knowing what to do next and why things did not work-out. I did nothing different from before. I began to doubt if I would get any of the things I am working toward. My visualization growth and development are still in the learning process. When the coach began to inform us all of the positives, well, I just saw things in perspective. This year, my son’s team started out with losing their first two games. Then, they won 8 in a row. They made it to the championship game after not being there for 31 years. They ended up having the number 1 offense and defense in the State. They scored 197 points and only gave up 43. They had a rusher who surpassed 1,200 yards for the first time ever in school history and he is only a Junior this year. We had 11 guys make First Team All Conference and 8 make First Team All State. Last year, we only had 2. There are many more who made Second Team and Honorable mention. One of our guys won the “Lineman of the Year” award for outstanding lineman in the entire State. That had never happened before. There was lots of other stuff, as well. All of this has taken the sting out of my pain and the edge is off now. Best thing about this is that many of these guys are coming back for next year. We should have a very good team. Many of the Sophomores and Freshman are pretty big, too. There was one huge shocking conclusion to all of this though, the head coach resigned! We were all in shock. No one knew, not even the kids. I think though, it is for the best. One thing I learned in all this is still loud and clear and somewhat confusing. The coach was quoted in our local newspaper this morning saying what kind of sums it all up for me: “There‘s no guarantees in life, I guess, no matter how hard you work or if you do the right things.”

Now what? As I said before, I have no other choice. Just keep working and doing and moving forward. Why I lost out this time and why many of the other things I am working toward are not in my life yet is a mystery. Maybe I will get them, just not in the time frame I wish. Or, maybe I will not get them and something better will come of it all. Sometimes, though, it seems like I do a lot of giving up and very little receiving of the better stuff.

Wish it were Monday already!

2005-11-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

My bags are all packed and I am ready to go!!! We live here Monday. Tuesday at 3:00PM I will be in Montego Bay, Jamaica! My brother called this afternoon and told me to bring a small portable FM radio because they have some “interesting radio station there” he thinks I will like. I am so looking forward to hearing some live reggae! I hope I get to here some good local old school stuff and not the new stuff that sounds too much like rap and hip hop. Can not wait to get my toes in the sand! There will not be the traditional Thanksgiving turkey, but I am sure some fresh lobster will do. Can not wait to eat some jerk foods!

The problem with CDs

2005-11-16T13:19:00.000-07:00

For an older guy like me, being a child of the 60’s and a teen of the 70’s, there are some issues with CDs. Yes, they are much more convenient and reliable than 8-Track tapes, but pretty much everything is more reliable than an 8-Track. (By the way, I still have some, about 200 and several players.) When CDs first came out, they were limited in their sound quality. No way did they compare to those Half-Speed Master albums or the Japanese imports (because they used true virgin vinyl and did not mix the vinyl with plastic to cut costs), but CD technology has caught up. The issue I have is two fold: lack of perks and availability.

By perks, I am talking about those really cool sells incentives that came with the vinyl albums. Here is a short list of some of the items that I own that originally came with the albums from the manufacture: posters (some 24” x 36”), stickers, book covers, laser etched art work on the vinyl itself, colored vinyl, 8” x 10” photos, gatefold covers, gatefold sized books (some reaching 50 pages), land deeds, rolling papers (12” x 12”, extremely difficult to find because, well, we tried to use them and no, they did not work so good), women’s panties. Many covers and posters were band and recalled due to graphic or controversial material and subject matter. “Penis Landscape” is one poster that comes to mind. It was included with the first issues of the Dead Kennedy’s “Frankenchrist” album. I own 3, 2 un-opened. Do not get that kind of stuff with the CDs.

The lack of availability is subjective. Most of the albums I desire to own on CD are no longer being manufactured. Some were no longer being produced before CDs. Lately, there has been a lot of older music being put on CDs. Most of it, however, is in a 'greatest hits' format. ‘Greatest hits’ is relative. For me, most of the artists best stuff is left off of those compilations. There are 5 albums that I can think of just right now that I wish to have on CD that I can not seem to find anywhere and I am told are not available: Melanie "At Carnegie Hall", Argent “In Deep”, Jo Jo Gunne “Bite Down Hard”, Devo “Oh, No! It’s Devo!”, Wendy O. Williams “Maggots: the Album”. (Any of you hardcore punk fans remember her? She was my dream girl back in the early 80’s) I bought this new toy a few months ago. I can record CD’s and not have to burn them on my computer. This way, it works just like a cassette and I can record anything, vinyl, 8-Tracks, radio, anything. Problem is those albums of mine are a bit scratchy.

There is still confusion from last event, so I am refraining from blogging about it for now. Yes, I am feeling better and thank you for asking. No, I am not feeling great.

2005-11-13T07:54:00.000-07:00

Now that the pain has subsided a little, I think I need to vent. To those of you who read my blogs and make comments, I know some of what I am about to say is not the “Truth” but it is how I am and have been feeling. Right now, I wish more than now than at many other times that I had a good friend to talk to and that could help me get grounded. Someone who would understand all of this. I am open for suggestions and I would appreciate any advise any of you might have for me now.

Trevor's team had a very good year. Last year they only won 4 games. The year before that as worse. In time, this will look much better, but for now, it hurts a lot. Friday night as was I shaking and cold with mild hypothermia from being wet and in the wind and rain and very cold air for 4 hours, I was thinking to myself that that feeling I had then was the most painful and worse feeling I have ever had before. At least, I could not recall it feeling worse. I have know some of these kids for 5 years now. They work so hard. 31 years of frustrations and losing. My brother played for East in 1982. He says he can not remember them winning any games that year. At the game Friday night, there was tons of former grads, former players, all wearing their letter jackets, supporting the team. For them it was a chance to have something special. Central has won State 6 times now, East, 2. Central beats us in lots of sports. They are the ‘rich kids’ school, the kids who seem to have many more advantages than the others. In the over-all record throughout the years, Central holds a nearly 4 to 1 advantage of wins over East. This just does not seem to be fair or right or just. Life is not, but I sometimes like to think that there is some justice in the World. Maybe I am just a fool. Besides all of this, this is my son I am talking about. Show me a parent who odes not want life to better for their children that they had it and I will show one who should not be a parent. The thing that is so confusing and painful is that I really thought I was getting the visualization thing down and that I was finally going to met some one. Now, I have tons of doubts.

I have been working hard at making my life and my situation better. I have taken it upon myself to make my life better. I have done some reading and studying of proper visualizations. To truly get what is most important in life, one must keep in mind that what they are striving for must be in the best interest of not only themselves, but for everyone. I have no idea what is in the best interest of ALL so I have to relie on the One who does know. I know that when something is lost, something else better is gained. It has been very hard for me these past 6 year plus to see how I am getting anything better. At times like this, all I can see is how I lose and nothing is gained. I feel like I have a pocket full of IOUs. That is simply not true and today I will focus on being positive.

All day yesterday I was just telling myself that God does not care about fair and justice. I was thinking that no matter how hard I try, that God will allow the worst things to happen to me. I was feeling that no matter how good of a person anyone is that bad things happen. That is just life, but I thought I was finally getting somewhere with my hard work. I was just finally starting to trust God again and then this happens. To be honest with you, I do not want to try anymore. I was hoping and visualizing meeting someone and finally moving out of my parents house and having a decent car and a life. Now, I have tons of doubts about it.

What choices do I have? None. I have to go back to trying. I could go back to being a drunk junkie piece of worthless nothing. Believe me, the desire hit me like a ton of bricks Friday night. I could just give up on all my hard work and myself and God, but then what? It will be worse than now, just like it was 4 years ago. I could be un-employed and sicker than ever and alone and.. NO! I can not go back. I have to keep trying. However, I am a firm believer in Yoda’s words: “Do or do not; there is no try.” So what do I do? What I am doing wrong? What I am doing right?

If I am one to believe in a struggle between Good and Evil, than this was a perfect opportunity for Evil to kick me in the nuts and put my dick in the dirt. Lack of Faith and Trying is the best way for Evil to prevail. I have to riase above this. A part of me wants to just have a good cry. Somehow though, I feel like crying would only make Evil smile and not get me anywhere. No, I am not being macho about crying. I know it helps, but for some reason, it does not feel 'right' right now. Evil has not just hurt me, but all of those kids and former students and their families. This is more to me than some stupid football game. This is my Faith and Trust in God and a better form of living.

2005-11-11T22:07:00.000-07:00

East lost 27-14

Friday Nights in America

2005-11-11T14:59:00.000-07:00

This Fall has given me an opportunity to wittiness life in a special manner. Oh, sure, I have been to many football games before, to many of my son’s sporting events and to even many professional football games. This year was a time for me to view this in a manner I had not before. Each of these past Friday nights, I have had a special feeling. That feeling can only be described as Friday Night in America.

Each Friday, a small group of parents gather together 2 hours before the games. They meet not in some pub or bar or fancy restaurant, but in the un-paved parking lot of a small football stadium in small town USA. They share their life’s and food and some good company. As they anxiously await the hard charcoals in the small portable grill to glow red, they begin placing their donations and contributions on the make-shift tables. Most of the food is placed on the lowered tailgates of one of the parents’ SUV’s. One of the parents, usually a father, begins cooking the meal for the evening: hamburgers and brats and hot dogs. The wonderful aromas of the cooking meat enhance everyone’s appetites, raising the conversations to a higher level. After a few minutes, more people begin to gather. Soon, there are more tailgates and lawn chairs and small card tables gathered around in a tight group. Paper plates and plastic forks and spoons are allotted to each parent. As they begin to fill their plates and find their places, many standing, the conversations begin to flourish.

With each new parent who arrives, there are warm friendly greetings. Many of these people see each other everyday, some occasionally through out the week, and some only here. As they begin to consume their meals of freshly grilled meats, potato chips, homemade potato salads and raw vegetables such as carrots and broccoli, the conversations become more focused, more intense. However, there is no heated debates about foreign policies, no complaining about the outrageous prices of gasoline, no bipartisan squalls on the current state of the Union, no quarrels about city hall. They are only talking about their son’s. Most boast and exaggerate, as all parents do, some anxiously discuss college futures with a gleam and flickers of hope in their eyes. Others brag about statistics, while some of us are just happy their sons’ are playing. Some quietly hope their son’s will be the hero while most of us are proud no matter what. Some openly express their fears and concerns of glorious victories and disappointments. Occasional, there is mention of the “Old Days,” the “Glory Days,” and was it like this for us back then. Did our parents do this for us? Sure. These traditions have been handed down from generation to generation. For many of these parents, this is/was their high school, as it was for the parents of these parents. After the main course is consumed, all without alcohol or bickering or hate or discontent or jealousy, they indulge in homemade cookies or brownies, things they would probably otherwise avoid. Clean-up commences and all do their part. They slowly amble as a group into the stadium to take their places, to their un-spoken, self-assigned seats. They all ask questions of each other as their son’s prepare, warm-up, for the game. “How is Tanner’s ankle doing?” “I see Billy’s going to be able to play tonight.” “Yes, he got his grades straightened out.” “How is Jeff’s Grandmother?”

Finally, the teams leave the field to thunderous applause and the band, with just as much enthusiastic applause, takes the field. After the uniformed marching band has assumed their positions, the local ROTC members fortunate enough to honor this great country, present our Colors and Flags. The announcer, an alum of this particular high school, asks us all to rise and remove our hats. Most of us already have, placing our hands compliantly over our hearts. The band begins to play our National Anthem and most of us sing along, horribly, yet, from our heart’s. We know theses words so well by now that we do them unconsciously. That is when, in my mind, in my heart, in my soul that special feeling flowed through me. There is a sense of pride and joy and honor and gratefulness and… comfort. Yes, some of my thoughts go out to our veterans and our way of life, but I am, at that moment, living our way of life. In one simple sentence, in one simple phrase, this immense feeling can be described. This is Friday night in America.

Much of this is uniquely American, uniquely rural America. SUV’s and tailgating and football, American football, make us uniquely American. Yet, I somehow doubted that there are many others standing with their hands over the hearts, singing loudly and awfully a song they know better than themselves, if any of them are thinking they are unique in the World. Many may not be fully appreciating the events that have just taken place, yet, they will the next 2 hours. For the next 2 hours, they will not fret about their second mortgages. They will not worry about their car payments and the paperwork that awaits them at the office. They will not give much thought to wars and the possibilities of Global Warming. Most will not wonder about where they might be getting their next meal or if the bus they take to work Monday will explode from some act of cowardly terrorism. For the next 2 hours, they and myself, will only be worrying about our sons’ health and playing well and hopefully, putting the icing on the cake by winning the game.

Here is a follow-up to my last blog:

2005-11-10T13:39:00.000-07:00

In this morning's paper, front page, was an article about my client’s uncle. Some 31 year old guy got methed-up at some party a few blocks from there. He got in a fight and had to leave the party. He decided to break-in to in his words “use the phone.” He killed my clients’ uncle, then burned down the house in his words “to alert the police." They found this guy in the backyard when they were putting out the fire. This murderer is married with two kids, one is 11 and the other 18 months. My client is now my former client. I had to release my funds to her so she could get coverage. They have her on 24 hour supervision. In my last blog, I told you they could refuse services. Yes, however, if they are a safety threat to themselves or others, they have few choices. She has lost her choices for awhile. Her choices had nothing to so with this murder, but they only have that guys word to go on for now. There is all kinds of sad that can go around with this story. Okay, so I took my client, R, to his job Wednesday morning. His boss the owner, said he needed to talk to me. Good, I needed to talk to him as well. At R’s mother's suggestion, I was going to see if one of the employees there that work all the time with R could work with him. Not a bad idea, but in this business, there is tons of protocol and legal requirements for hiring someone. No way can I get it any of that done in less than 2 weeks. It can take a long as 8 weeks for fingerprinting and background checks. However, this is only temporary and they would not be alone, yadda, yadda. By this time, only one person had called me back that I called the day prior. She is another private provider and I was just asking if she knew anyone. She said she might and to call her latter. So, the owner drops a huge bomb. The funding for R’s job, money from WEA that supplements R’s income, has run out. They can not afford to keep R without the funding. So, R is just not going to work that week I am gone. My coverage problem, solved, at least for his job. I have to provide res hap with him 5 days week as well. However, now R is going to be out of work in December. I think I got that handled today, but I have to wait. See how a ‘bad’ can be a ‘good.’ Funny ( not ha ha but ironically) how R was going to lose his job anyway. I called the other provider and she can cover for me with R’s res hap. Yeah!!! Yesterday afternoon, I talked to D’s mother when I dropped her off and everything got worked out. The ‘charges’ were dropped and the report closed. Her mother is mad though because they pulled D’s younger brother out of school and asked him lots of questions. They did not talk to anyone else and D’s mother feels they may have traumatized her son. He was at least very upset and scared and confused by it. I took a child abuse course in college. A major concern about social workers questioning kids is the type of questions they ask and the methods. It is very easy to lead the kids on and get any answer they are looking for with their questions. Of course, any good lawyer would be all over that, but this social worker questioned D’s brother all alone. No school teacher or principle or school counselor, no one. No way would any of that stand-up in court. If there really was abuse going on, that person would have gotten away with it on a technicality. D’s mother is very upset about it, but she is doing the only thing she can do, nothing. There is no legal recourse with false reports. In fact, the reporter has total anonymity. One could make up lies, just to cause problems and have no legal repercussions. I agree with her that making a big deal out of it might just give whoever that did it to begin with more fuel for the fire. D’s teacher at school has known D for 3 years, so she would not have turned this in to anyone. In fact, she was very surprised to hear about it. It is still better than the old way.

Just another day.

They come in 3’s

2005-11-09T16:58:00.000-07:00

Some time back, many years ago, my sister told me about a theory. She said that “they die in 3’s” referring to celebrities. Rock starts or movie starts or profession athletes, it appears that the 3 seem to die very close to each other. For example, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendricks, Jim Morrison. Sure, lots of holes in that theory, but after she said that, I have seen it happen every time. Any psych major knows if you look hard enough you can find what you are looking for in anything. For me, ‘bad’ things happen in 3’s. For example, yesterday. The first I already mentioned with my coverage falling through for my trip to Jamaica. The ‘bad’ part is that the person I picked-out had a bad wrist break and subsequently, she has had what appears to be the worst possibility for her with this. She was been struggling with her recovery from this for over a year now. She was supposed to be released to work Monday, but the pin in her wrist has a screw that came undone and it is cutting into one of her tendons when she moves her thumb. My back up to her is turning herself into rehab for drug and alcohol addictions this weekend. Us former addicts have a pretty easy time seeing that in others. For me, it is normally instant in seeing it, even if they have been clean and sober for a while. I did not see it in her, or maybe I did not take the time to notice or maybe I just choose to over-look it. This is actually a relapse for her and just happened a few months ago. I have not seen her during this time. Last night, she called me at midnight to talk. I told her I would help her out and that I had been there as both an employee and a patient. She told me about all kinds of bad stuff that happened to her when she was a kid. She told me about how low she has sunk and some of the stuff she has done in the past few months. Wow. Okay, so after all that, there was 2 others that happened yesterday. One of my former clients who is an 18 year old female, was living with her uncle. Someone set their house on fire, killing her uncle! She was not home that night. When I first heard it, I was in shock. He was one of the nicest, sweetest guys I had ever met and to think he had to die that way. When I first met him, we had an instant connection. He was extremely concerned about his niece, but he just did not have a clue about what to do. He never had his own children then suddenly he inherits a 17 year old. He was doing the best he could do for her. I had just saw him a few weeks ago. After that shock wore off a little, I began to feel very guilty. Could I have done something to prevent that? Could I have been a better provider? Even if I was still her provider, and technically speaking I was, I could not have done anything. She dropped me as a provider, but she never pick-up anyone else after me. This was in September when she dropped me. In my professional opinion, and the opinion of others that assist her, she just does not want the services. She would never answer the phone or call me or any of the others back. She would not answer her door for me or anyone else. She would not show for any of the team meetings or any of her other appointments. I know it sounds bad, but in this business, you have to try and if they refuse to do the work, you have to move on to those who will do their work and want the services. It is their right to refuse services. Even though we all know it is in her best interest to have the services, we can not force her to do them. Being the type of person I am, I feel like I could have done more, even though I did all I could and I have no idea what more would be in this case. Then, number 3. D, my 9 year old who’s photo is on here, mother called me last night. Social Services is doing an investigation for possible psychical abuse. That was just shocking! E was in a panic. E is one of the “good parents.” To begin with, D can not walk very well. She has had tons of surgery to help this and it has gotten better, but she has to wear braces. They help, but D has lots of problems with her balance. When I first began working with D 2 years ago, she could not walk on her own. She fell down constantly trying to be a ‘normal’ kid with walking. D bruises very easily. Her bruises look far worse on her than the average person. Her legs used to be covered in bruises from her falling and these huge braces she had that went all the way up to her hips. So, today her mother has to call all these people and get all this straightened out. This type of stuff is why most people in this business will not work with kids. Too many people making too many incorrect and exaggerated assumptions. We are all guilty until we can doubly prove our innocence and then after that we are marked for life. Yes, I am glad that we have a better system these days, but it has gone to the opposite extreme. So, maybe I will be getting a phone, as well.

fOOTBALL & jAMAICA

2005-11-08T14:03:00.000-07:00

Two weeks from today, I will be on the beach at this time. Well, maybe. It seems all of the employees I had to cover for me have all fallen through! In the last hour, my help and all of my back-ups are lost. My list of possibilities all ran out. Now, I am trying to find someone to cover for me. I can not leave my client alone. He will lose his job and then his apartment and I would lose him as a client.

Hey, on a brighter note: my son’s football team, Cheyenne East High School, is playing for the State 5A championship this Friday!!! I am so excited!!! Some interesting facts: East has not won State in football since 1974, 31 years ago. They have not even been to the championship game since then. My brother played football there back in the early 1980’s. The lost considerably more games than they won. The last 2 years that my son has been on the team, they have a combined total of wins less than this year alone. They lost their first 2 games this year and have won 8 straight. My sister, Trevor’s mother and step father and myself graduated from East. East is playing Cheyenne Central, our cross town rivals. For the first time since the 2 began playing each other, 1960, this is the first time they have played each other for State.

GO CHEYENNE EAST THUNDERBIRDS!!!!

Jamaica

2005-11-07T18:03:00.000-07:00

Not sure if I have blogged about this yet, but in 2 weeks, I am going to Jamaica. The photo is where we are staying, Gobal Villa (the white building with the red roof), near Montego Bay. My brother is getting married on a farm about 10 miles from the Villa on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I am going with my parents, my sister and my son. No, my brother is not marrying a Jamaican woman. Actually, they are already married. They got married in July in Gillette, Wyoming. My brother met her at the YMCA there in Gillette. He actually lives in Laramie, Wyoming, but works in Gillette. Him and his wife have been ‘friends’ for over 5 years. Why Jamaica? About 20 years ago, my brother took a trip there. He only purchased a plane ticket. No hotel room or rental car, nothing. He wanted to experience the actual culture there and rented a bicycle at the airport and slept on the beach for the first few nights. Then he met a ‘farmer.’ He went back every year after that. About 8 years ago, my brother invested a bunch of money in this ‘farm’ and now it grows fruit (several types of bananas, yams, coconuts, mangos, ect.) He has been going there 2 or 3 times a year, helping with planting and harvesting. He has taken his now wife there the last 3 years. She is a scuba diver instructor. Anyway, I have never been out of the country, well except for Tijuana, but I am not sure that counts. This weekend I began getting some stuff together and packing. We are leaving Monday, the 21st and spending the night in Denver because our flight leaves at 7:00AM on the 22nd. We will have to be there around 4:00AM and DIA is an hour and a half drive from here. For the past month or so, I have been visualizing myself, while in my Spinning class at the YMCA, doing Yoga on the beach in Jamaica. Makes it go by much faster. I have begun to get excited about going the past few days. My brother told me that the woman there are very ‘assertive’ with American men. I would love some of that type attention. It has been a very long time. I hope I met a really nice, smart and hot island girl. That would rock! Maybe I could bring her home with me. That would rule!

more on love and depression

2005-11-05T18:44:00.000-07:00

If I may, I would like to add some more thoughts to my blog on love and depression. In the past year or so, I have worked hard on being closer to God and to making peace with all of the stuff that has happened to me. I keep saying this over and over, but this past 6 years has been brutal. I have had to do a complete ‘re-build’ of my beliefs and ideas and thought processes. I am not done yet. I can honestly say that in the past year, there have been times I was not depressed. For me, that is saying a lot. I seem to have found inner peace and happiness. Somehow, sometimes, though, I lose sight of it. I need to make God my friend again and keep God there and stop placing blame. I need someone to love and someone who will love me back just as much as I love her. Until the time is right, I need to just keep focused on being positive and to keep progressing with my growth and my life.

love and depression

2005-11-04T07:56:00.000-07:00

In my past blogs, I have mentioned about having a relationship, my last girlfriend, and how I thought she was the ‘one.’ I can see clearly now that I was blind and that things could have been much better. That is my hopes and desires now, to have it much better than it was before. One thing about that period of time then that I want back is that I was not depressed during that 18 months. I can not recall a time in my life that I have not been depressed. Even as a very young child, I can recall always being depressed. For some reason, perhaps due to love, I was not depressed during that time. Oh, lots of events happened then that could have put me down. Yet, it was all just water off a ducks back. Besides, I do not need a reason to be depressed. The event happened, I dealt with it and moved on and did not dwell on it or get down. The bad stuff just did not seem to be bad and the good just seemed to be so much better than good. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better off not having that experience. Then, I would not have to wonder about if it will never happen again or that I would miss it so much. It seems like a cruel joke to have that small little taste and then have it removed from me. That is not how I feel, though. I just want it back! I want to enjoy my life, not struggle with it. The past 6 years have been the biggest struggle of my life. I am tired and weary and I just do not want this any more. I seem to be at an impasse or a crossroads. I know that I should not be angry at God or resentful. I know it is foolish. Yet, I can not seem to stop. I do not know what to do. If I did know, I would stop it. I want that love again.

dreams and sex

2005-11-03T19:03:00.000-07:00

Around ten years ago, I was having a series of sex dreams. These dreams were very ‘realistic’ with lots of bright colors and sound and intense tactile sensations, even tastes. They began with me having sex, very good intense sex [much better than the ‘real‘ thing was], with my ex girlfriends. They were very enjoyable, but after I woke, I would remember all of those old feelings about them and why I did not want to be with them any more. What I thought was going on with those dreams was that I was working through past issues and having closure, even though I had actually had that already with some of them. Yet, those dreams reminded me that I should look back and remember so that I could say I learned and that I would not repeat mistakes and yet, take the good and find that again with someone else. Back then, I did not know as much about dreams as now and I had limited knowledge of interpretations. Then, after all of my ex girlfriends were done, I had one about my ex wife. That one bothered me. There is, and has not been since before our divorce, any feelings for her. None. In fact, I can not recall if I ever did have feelings for her. I know that sounds cruel, because with all the others, I can recall something. There are some that I still say I care about and I love still, but not that I would want to go back to them. There was just something there and I respect it. Not with my ex-wife. Yet, I am not angry or resentful or any of that toward her, either. There is just nothing. Well, other than no way would I do that again and no way would I want to be in that type of situation again with someone else. However, I just assumed that was a part of my growing and healing and she had to be last because it was the most difficult. That all made sense to me and still does today. Then, the dreams changed. I think all this happened over a 2 or 3 month period with having one or two a week, sometimes more. After my ex, I began to have sex in my dreams with others. Next was a cousin of mine who I was at one time, very close friends (and was at that time). She is very pretty and all that, so it did not freak me out. Then, it was with my grandmother. That one freaked me out! I became very confused. She is my favorite grandmother, but she had died about a year before these dreams began. (No, Sigmund, I have never had any sexual desires toward her, repressed or sub-conscientious or other wise). Then, the dreams changed again and the women became celebrities. Not movie or TV stars or musicians or super models, but porn stars. Those dreams rocked! They were all kinds of kinky and dirty and WOW! However, these were not girls I particularly liked, though. I was not attracted to them at all nor did I or do I now find them sexy at all. Odd. Then, one was with Gene Simmons of Kiss, in full costume and make-up (him, not me). I had a close friend back then who I told these dreams to in hopes of finding some answers. In his mind, the whole World should laugh at themselves. Therefore, he only made jokes at my expense. Not much help. I agree with not taking myself too seriously, but it did not help me to understand those dreams. To me, these dreams had changed and were saying something for a reason. I wanted to know that reason. Then, I had one with God. God, when the dream first began, was male, but just before we began to make love, God became a very beautiful, intelligent woman. God was not human in my dream, but a very soft purple Light that was in the form of a female human. I did not want to wake from that dream. However, that would have been selfish, or that was my thoughts at the time. The dreams stopped after that one, for awhile, anyway. They started again, one here and there, about 4 years latter. Since that first series, I have had some college background, purchased and read 4 dream books, seen other dream books, and got heavy into the metaphysical. I have a much broader knowledge and understanding of these dreams today. The dreams are not so much about any exes or porn stars any more. Last night, I had a dream about one of my ex girlfriends, B. In fact, that was the 5th one in about 2 weeks about her. After I woke up, I went back to sleep and then had a sex dream about another person that I only know causally. 5 times in 2 weeks is significant. 5 times in 2 weeks is saying something, but what? B and I had closure. We see each other once in awhile. In 1997, we spent a lot of time together in college and we did lots of healing and growing. Something more could have happened then, but many of those things that I did not like about her were still there, and besides, it just did not feel right. Of all my exes, there are only 2 that I would like to re-live some fond memories. No relationship stuff, just some of that great sex we had before. That will just not ever happen and I do not think too much about it. B is one of those. These dreams bring it back up, but I can easily accept it and enjoy those memories and move on from it. So, I am not sure that is what the dreams about B are saying now. The dream books I have and the others I have barrowed or read, are either too vague and general or too specific. Too vague and general to provide any good explanations and too specific too make any connections for me. However, they usually give me some other points of view and from there, I can find my answers. Most of the dream books I have read suggest that sex in our dreams is symbolic of our desires to become closer to God. Yes, I wish that, too. I have some resentment issues I need to continue working on, but I am not sure that is what the dreams are trying to say. I just do not know! I would appreciate any suggestions, but before you do, please, move beyond any Freudian ideas about unexpressed desires. Yes, I desire sex because it has been 6 years. There is something more.

trick or treat

2005-11-01T18:24:00.000-07:00

This is D, one of my clients. She is 9 and non-verbal, although she is learning to say some words. Her mother brought her by last night for some Trick or Treat.

Emile Rose

2005-10-31T18:14:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 10-29, my son and I went to see the movie “The Exorcism of Emile Rose.” Heard lots of people say it was scary. I was not, but I was very interested. We went to my favorite cinema, “The Lincoln” which is downtown. This theater was originally built in 1938, Cheyenne’s first, and latter remodeled to be one of the studio theaters in the 50‘s. We used to have a Paramount, as well, but it closed 30 years ago. The Lincoln theatre has been renovated to be mostly the original 1950’s décor. The ceiling in the lobby is the original from 1955. They put in a great sound system a few years ago and a huge screen, the best in town until the same owner built a brand new 12 screen complex last year. I love this old theater! It has such wonderful energy. Plus, it is a second run and the movies are only $1!!!! This theatre is where my son saw his first “big movie” when he was 5, “Beauty and the Beast.” That is a very special memory for me! He stood the entire movie and sang along, even though he do not know the words. He danced and looked back, asking me if I saw that and he was just totally into it. That began a tradition with us. We go often. We rent lots of movies and purchase them for each other as gifts for holidays and birthdays. When he was about 8 or 9, he began asking me lots of questions after the movies. To my amazement, he would ask some very deep and mature and intelligent questions. We sometimes talk about if we liked it or not, but mostly we discuss the movie's topics. My son asked me questions about the authenticity of this movie and Emily Rose. I told him I remembered the trail, but not much of it. He began asking about demons and realism and all of that. When I was going through my metaphysical stage, I taught him all of it. He “sees dead people” just like I do, but he does not talk about it so much these days. I told him about the adage that Satan’s biggest trick is making people believe he does not exist. My son asked me to explain. I told him that as long as people believe, specifically the scientific community, that there is no evil and no Satan and no demons, then no one will work against it. I asked him “Do you think that if people knew and believed that they would burn in Hell and that Satan was real they would still do the stupid stuff they do?” It is similar to any government cover-up conspiracies. As long as they keep the public thinking there is no such thing, no one will be snoopy and look around and find them doing it. Anyway, I think that psychology has gone in the wrong direction in totally disregarding spiritual matters. In fact, most psychiatrists will say that beliefs in religions and God and demons and all of that is a disorder, mainly schizophrenia. I disagree. I do not believe in the Biblical Heaven and Hell. We make our own Hell. I believe in karma and that if we do evil things, evil will be done to us. Did Emily have grand mall seizures? Maybe, but I do not think so. They said in the movie that she was in fact taking her meds at the height of her activities and when she was displaying these behaviors. Does our mind play tricks on us during seizures, or do the demons? I think both. It is very easy to manipulate energy when being a spirit or demon. They are pure energy. They can effect our brain chemistry. They can effect any magnetic imaging scans. As long as evil is explained in a matter of psychical, scientific explanations and treated with drugs, evil will prevail and flourish. However, I know that there are many who need drug therapies. I know there are many who indeed have chemical imbalances. What a lonely and meaningless existence to live life without the conscientious presence of a Higher Power. Anyway, it was nice having that conversation.

Yesterday, I took my son and his friend to Denver for the Broncos game. Just before the main entrance at the stadium, they had a live band performing. They played old 70’s retro disco music. They sounded great! They had a 5 piece horn section, 2 person percussion, 4 singers, an eclectic bass, guitar and keyboards. “Lady Marmalade” never sounded so good!!! That band was tight! They had their sound down solid and they worked very well together. The lead vocalist, a female, belted the leads out on that song with authority. I had goose flesh! Oh, man!!! I love live music! Back in the late 70’s, I was a closet disco lover. Unfortunately, I was alone in my group with the musical appreciation for that musical yesterday, so I had to leave much sooner than I want. That just made my weekend!

resentment

2005-10-29T06:45:00.000-06:00

After I wrote my last blog on depression, it took a turn. Not necessarily for the better, but the norm for me. Males who were children in the 60’s and the early 70’s were taught by their families, peers, and sociality to not show any emotions other than aggression or anger, especially in small town Wyoming. No, I am not say all males, but that was the ‘norm’ back then. I have had a hard time getting past that. As the saying goes, I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Anyone can easily tell my insides, my internal feelings and my mood at the time, from a quick and simple observation of my outside. That is just the way I am now. Some people, and I prefer to think of it this way, say that I am passionate. I used to just be angry all the time. Angry at everything and everyone, even when I was happy and feeling good. It is just so much easier to be angry than to allow pain and depression. That is how most males my age, or we used to anyway, expressed our sadness and hopelessness and fears and pain and rejection, by being angry. Through lots of hard work and support, I have been able to change that. How that old self shows now is through a ‘frustration into anger’ process. Us males were taught to never show any emotions such as fear or pain or sorrow or joy, even love and happiness, only anger. Anger was the only acceptable emotion. Therefore, all emotions were channeled into and expressed through anger somehow. As I mentioned, I am not that way anymore and, thankfully, society's views have changed greatly on this. The part for me that lingers comes with the pain part. I still show anger, even get angry, when I am in emotional pain. After I determined that I was depressed, the next step was to do something about it. I told myself I would not allow the depression to get to me. Well, instead of dealing with it, I pushed it down inside. That ignited the fires of frustration. The flames consumed me. I am frustrated with some parts of my life. Oh, my life is so much better in so many ways than it was 3 years ago. Even from last year, even from a few months ago, so lots of positive progress is being made. I have so much to be thankful for now. Yet, a few things seem to be the same old bad stuff. When the frustration takes over, I do not see things logically. I only see the things I do not have and embellish how bad things are for me. I focus on what I do not have and instead of working on obtaining it or creating it for myself through positive visualizations, I become resentful. Logically speaking, there is no reason for resentment. However, few emotions are logical. I am not logical, even when I try to be, which is often. A healthy way of dealing with resentment is to just let go of it and not place blame. Instead of letting it go, I harbor it. I dock that ship in my best bay, pushing everything out to sea and blocking my view of reality. I unload all of resentment’s cargo. That cargo is just another fresh supply of all the old ways and views. Those old ways of thinking demand that I place blame on the Ultimate Provider, the Supreme Source of ALL, God. Of course, that is foolish, yet, I still do it. Once that ship approaches port, I am a whore hungry for sailors and I run to the peer, naked, arms and legs wide open. [Looking at this way sure does not make me feel good about myself.] Free Will suggests that it is not God’s Doing, but mine. It is not God who makes my life bad, it is my circumstances. I need to change them and to work through them. Is not God in Control of my circumstances, though? Yes, there is much beyond my control, which is Free Will working for everyone else. Understanding and patience are what is needed at the times of frustration, not resentment. Resentment breeds anger. Anger devours life as starving lion in a herd of sleeping, deaf antelope. Anger blinds logic and reason and all positive emotions. Anger is the ugly child of fear. Fear feeds anger. Anger draws it’s strength from fear and makes those fears think they are a victim and damn it we are not going to take it anymore!! Kill ’em all! So, as per usual with me, I have been angry at God the past few days. Thankfully, I have been able to work through it and it only lasted for short periods during these past few days. Having a cold has not helped it, but perhaps the cold is a product of my behaviors. There are only two core, two basic emotions, love and fear. So, when I am angry, what is my fear? Fear that God does not love me. Fear that God will not Help me or Provide for me. Fear that God is Oppressing me. Foolish! There is no Oppression! God is Guiding me, Aiding me and Assisting me in doing what is not only my best interest, but of those around me; of all actually. I know God loves me even when I am yelling at the top of my lungs that I hate God. Even when I was unemployed and sicker than ever and alone and crying, God STILL loves me! I can feel, I can see, just below the surface of that cargo, a clear blue ocean of understanding. Yet, that cargo takes over control of my actions. It is as though I am a puppet on a string. Dance, Puppet Boy, dance! Why? I guess I just want to be heard. I guess I just want to know why, yet, I already know why. As I have mentioned on other blogs, I have done everything I know of and more to find someone to love. That is the problem. If I just wanted sex or some short term fling, I could easily find it. Right? Wrong. I have tried, but through Divine Intervention, I have not been lucky. There are seemly tons of opportunities around me, yet, when I reach for the candy in the jar, my hand gets slapped, then the jar is moved out of my sight. I can not just have sex. There has to be love and commitment and call me old fashion if you will, but that is just who I am and my lot in life. I accept it. Even back when was a drunk junkie, I knew better, even though I still tried and I still got stung. Save me from myself. Okay, I appreciate that, but what about my Free Will? That is where resentment takes advantage and deploys anger. Deep down, well, deep down when I am angry, I do not want just sex. That is why it does not happen. There are other things lacking in my life as well. Mostly about money. I just do not want to go into details about money, not now, not here. So, what do I do about the anger? Not let it start. Once it does though, it is out of control. Puppet Boy no longer has control of his strings. So, do not control anger, but work through it. Do not let it start by not harboring resentment. How do I stop resentment‘s cargo? Not placing blame. Do not look at what I do not have with distain but look at what I do have with gratitude. Do not look at what I want and say I can not have it, but say that I am getting it. Do not let frustration breed resentment by patience and understanding. Give me back my strings! Now that I have made it clearer to myself, how about if I go take a shower and eat some breakfast and begin doing my visualizations again.

Dear God, I am so very grateful that I have the abilities to resolve my issues.

300.4 Dysthymic Disorder

2005-10-26T14:40:00.000-06:00

I still love Halloween. I was just lamenting because I do not dress-up anymore and go dancing. Even now that I am sober, believe or not, I still love to dance. I have been depressed for 2 maybe 3 weeks now. It is dysthymic depression (DSM-IV-TR, pg 176, 300.4), [one of my given lables] a low level of depression that is constant and is not major or has manic episodes. Of the symptoms, 2) hypersomnia, 3) low energy or fatigue, 4) low self-esteem, 5) poor concentration or difficulty making decisions, 6) feelings of hopelessness. Why? I think I finally figured it out, after noticing the depression. I have been taking long naps, and going to bed early and keeping up with my exercising and still, I am beat everyday. The reason: the holiday season. No, not the holidays themselves, but the same thing that has been happening for the past 6 years. 6 years ago, this month, is when I last had a girlfriend. In fact, she was who I thought was the “one.” Do I miss her? NO! Want her back, yadda, yadda? Hell no! Do I hate her? Certainly not, I am just lonely. I have never gone more than a few months without sex before and now it is 6 years. I have been through the worst days of my life this past 6 years, none of which is directly related to her or even indirectly. I am just sick of being alone and taking matters into my own hands, if you know what I mean. All of my attempts at finding someone have been nothing more than helping me to heal and to see that I needed to do some more work. I have tried all types of ways of meeting woman, and nothing. I even tried that Adult Friend Finders site. I got zero responses. Come on now, you can not tell me that out of over 38,000 woman in a 100 mile radius of me that no one is interested in me? All I can think of for a reason or an answer is Divine Intervention. Yes, save me from myself. No, I do not want to just get laid. I want love and to give love. Don’t we all? Anyway, this time of the year is tough. I have a hard time not thinking, well, 7 Halloweens now. 7 Thankgiving’s. 7 Christmas’s alone. And then the worst holiday of them all, St. Valentine's Day. Not just that I am alone, but my best friend ever died in car wreck and her funeral was on, of all days, St. Valentine's Day. Okay, so I caught it early. I refuse to be depressed and think about what I do not have this year. Thankgiving will be different because I am going to Jamaica. However, it is for my brother’s wedding. Maybe I will meet some hot island girl! Or maybe I should stop think about sex and woman and just.. What? What else is there to think about?

2005-10-25T13:52:00.000-06:00

More art from my past. This first one is Terry Nun from the 80’s New wave band “Berlin.” Done with pastels over water colors, in 1984. Next one is John Bulishi (sp?) done with quash or opaque watercolors. That was an assignment for my Advertising Design class in 1982, when things were still done by hand and not computers. (I actually saw his ‘grave site’ on Martha’s Vineyard in 1997) Today as I was leaving the YMCA, around 6:00AM, after lifting, someone commissioned me to do a drawing for them. They want daises. I am very flattered that they asked me and hey I might make a few bucks, but usually I do not make much on my art. I just sell it too cheap. Actually, I usually give it away. If I have shown someone in the past my work and they really like a certain piece, I have just gave it to them. Not my favorite stuff, though. One of the requirements for admission into grad school in the counseling program at UNC in Greeley, Colorado, is to take the MMPI II. That “personality inventory” is a joke! If any of you psych majors or any who have studied this test, you will know what I mean. Although they claim it is very accurate. The questions, all 531 of them, are true/false. Absurd method for a psych test. I can recall many of the question’s answers for me being both. One example is: “If you were an artist, would you like to paint flowers?” I am an artist and I hate painting flowers. I love flowers, but I am very bad at drawing and painting them. I can never get them to look like flowers. How do I answer that? Maybe that question is supposed to be an indication of gender roles, I do not know. There were other questions that directly asked about liking flowers and wanting to be an artist. Maybe that is a question designed to see if a person is “faking” as they say in the psych world. The very first question through me off. “Do you like to read mechanics magazines?” Well, I have never read one. How do I know? I work on my own cars and motorcycles, mostly because I like it and I can not afford paying someone else to fix them (I should say I used to not be able to, I can now). I have “looked” at car magazines, but just at the pictures of the cars. I have read articles about cars and instructions in repairs in books, but no mechanics magazines. No, I did not “like” reading the instructions, but they sure did help with the repair jobs. I just answered “true.” So, what were my results? They were looking to see if a person fit into their ideas of what a counselor should be, so they said, whatever that means. That was never explained. The person who told me about my results said I am ( or was at the time) “a person who is re-defining themselves.” She was right. So, maybe that test is a good one, what do I know? I knew that at the time and I did nto need an $85 test to tell me. I guess one is not supossed to be re-defining when appliying to grad school.

Halloween is coming soon

2005-10-20T12:46:00.000-06:00

This is a pin and ink drawing I did in college. It is all one continuous line. The other is pastels over watercolor, post college, pre-no drinking. This ‘reaper’ I had made into a tattoo on my right shin. Photos latter. The colored pencil drawing was done in 9th grade. I saw that in the clouds, looking out my bedroom window one afternoon. I used to draw lots of this type of stuff, but then I stop. (See blog in archives, “A Witch Hunt in Wyoming” for details.)

Halloween used to be my second favorite holiday. I loved going to costume parties and dressing up and all that. I love carving pumpkins and all of the cool decorations. I like the theme colors of black and orange. They just seem to go very well together. When Trevor was little, I loved getting him a costume and taking him Trick or Treating. Now, it is just another day. These days, since I quit drinking and do not go to parties anymore, I do not think about it so much. I could still go to parties and dress-up and not drink, but I do not know anyone or have any friends who invite me to parties. Glad I enjoyed it when I had the chance. These days, there seems to be lots of “Christians” complaining about the evils of Halloween. Kind of ridiculous, I think. Those people seem to take everything out of context and make life a friggin’ bore. Trick or Treat is not what is used to be, either, thanks to the pedophiles and theives and whatever or whoever else that makes people hurt children.

More good music

2005-10-18T07:09:00.000-06:00

I bought a new CD today, well, actually 2. One is Pat Benatar’s Greatest Hits. The other is her first album, “In the Heat of the Night.” I kept looking at all of her greatest hits CD’s, and there seems to be a ton of them, and I could not find one with all the songs from the first album that I liked on it. So, I thought I would just buy the best ‘hits’ one with the good ones and then buy the first album all by itself. I forgot just how much I love that first album! She has such a great voice, but I love the raw, edgy rock music on the first album. Usually, I only care about the music and do not pay much attention to the artist’s attitudes and their persona. With Pat, it is hard not to notice. She has lots of strength and did things her way, which was to NOT be a corporate sex goddess as they tried to make her. I know lots of girls who wanted to emulate her and in my opinion, that was a very good thing. When I was listening to the greatest hits one, I was lying on my bed with my headphones on, thinking about what I was doing back when this music was new ( mostly during the "Crimes of Passion" album). I had this really awful girlfriend back then. She was insanely jealous and I had to spend all of my time with her. She was the type of person who if I happened to sneeze and turned my head and there just happened to some women within a mile of my eyesight, I was accused of siring her children. That was tough. I never once cheated on her, although she was absolutely convinced I had many times. We had an on again off again thing and between the ons and offs, I had a few opportunities. No, I was not perfect either, but she brought the ugly green monster of jealousy out in me and it took me many years to get past it. When I was with her, I used to wish for moments like I was enjoying last night, being alone and just listening to music and thinking about nothing and everything with no worries. I used to spend lots of my time alone, listening to music, lying on my bed and thinking when I was young. Now, I am alone most of the time. Guess I got my wish. Still, I would rather be alone than spend another second with her or someone like her. I think I was just too stupid and/or too insecure to be alone. Even the sex was awful with her. I just do not know what I was thinking. Sorry, I should not be talking about my ex-girlfriends like that. It just seemed so ironic to me. Anyway, I love Pat Benatar! That CD sounded so good I listened several times. My favorite song on the first one is “My Clone Sleeps Alone.” The same guy who produced that first album she made is the same guy who produced the British 70’s rock group “Sweet.” Pat even covered one of their songs that the producer actually wrote, “No You Don‘t.” You might know The Sweet from the song “Ballroom Blitz.” That song was covered in the “Wayne’s World” movie.

2005-10-17T17:47:00.000-06:00

Please, forgive me everyone. Please, forgive me God! I should not be venting about this or especially writing about it. In fact, I should not even be thinking about it. I should not put this negative energy out into the Universe. The people at the State have their own issues to deal with and they are chocked, just like the rest of us, with red tape and rules. They see it from their point of view. This will all work out. It always does and for the better. If something is lost then something better will replace it. If some goal is not achieved, then something better will replace it. If I lose this money, more will come to me, much more. If I lose all of my clients and all this falls through, then there is a better job for me. If all the women I have met to this point have rejected me or the situation did not work or whatever, their will be someone much better. That is the way It works!

What about this word “God?” There are other words: Great Spirit, Higher Power, Supreme Being, The Universe, Allah, The Tao, and much more. These words all speak of the same ‘being,’ the same ‘idea,’ the same ‘thing.’ Only our inferences upon it change the meaning for us. It is our attitudes and ideas that make the words different, therefore creating something that is not the Whole Truth.

2005-10-17T17:01:00.000-06:00

Sorry, more venting. I talked to a “person” at the State today that only made the frustration worse. Of course, the States response to everything is that I am totally to blame for not only their mistakes, but for the entire misfortunes of the World. On numerous occasions, the “person” took this opportunity to upbraid me with little facts about what is expected of the mighty State. Like I don’t know or something. I had to explain myself and my situation numerous times to this “person.” She did not get it. She was on and on about this fact and that fact of which I repeated to her numerous times. At one point, she even laughed at me. Since I could not explain to this “person” properly, I was again upbraided and told I should call her back tomorrow. So, tomorrow you will bring your brain with you? An hour after this ordeal, the case manager finally called me back claiming she did not get my original messages. Latter on in the conversation, she asked me, unsolicited, about one of my questions from the first message. She did not get one of my other services on the IPC so I may miss two weeks of that money as well. Interesting. You know, just say you blew me off and have some balls. Better yet, do as most Wyomingites do and just do not bring it up and pretend nothing wrong has or is happening. Not like it was your fault this was screwed up, right? By no means am I perfect. I do not expect it of others, especially the State of Wyoming DDD. To be continued .

venting about my work

2005-10-13T17:57:00.000-06:00

I need to vent here now, so if you do want to listen, I understand. I do not want to get into if it is a good or a bad idea to use blogs for venting, not right now anyway. I would appreciate any comments you might have for me, though. Thank you! For a brief history, I am a private care provider for DD/MR and ABI adults and children. Officially now, I am the owner of a business that providers these services. I used to be a private provider but after October 1st , I became an official business. The name of my business is “Cheyenne Assisted Living & Support.” I decided to go private because I had some issues with the philosophies of all the places here. Also, the money is much better and I get to work the hours that I like to and not the over-night stuff. What happened is that I ended up with 6 clients, so I needed to hire someone. Also, a ‘friend’ of mine that I worked with before at one of the places in town, left that job. One of the parents said she only wanted my ‘friend’ to work with her child. I have worked for 3 other places, two here, one in Laramie. My ‘friend’ tried to get certified to be a private provider, but she could not get it. The State of Wyoming Developmental Disabilities Division has so damn many moronic and tree killing rules and regulations that they chock providers with their ridiculous amounts of paper work and red tape. To a certain point, I can understand and agree with the regulations, but they make it unbelievably difficult to get things done. This ‘friend’ worked with this little girl for nearly a year for free because she could not get her certification done. It took me 4 months to get mine. At one point, the “lady” at the State LOST my paper work! I was told that I could just hire someone. We put my name on that little girl’s plan and I was going to hire my ‘friend’ so she could get paid. Then, I found out that I can not just hire someone while using my own personal SS number. I have to use a EIN number. Otherwise it is Medicaid fraud and I would have to pay back all of the funds I billed. Fortunately, I did not do any billing from that time. The case manager for the little girl did know about this, I just happened to find out from another provider who was doing the same as me and had to do some “bill-backs.” So, one would assume that all they would need to do was just get an EIN from the IRS. That is what I was told, anyway. It took me all of 10 minuets on the phone with the IRS to get one. Just give it to the State and I can hire. WRONG! I had to fill out a 30 page “packet” and had to change all of my plans. I got the packet in August, the third week. It took until October to get it approved. The State told me to estimate my units I would use and have the case managers make new plans with those units that are left over. I did that. Well, on the little girl, the State said the numbers were wrong. They were wrong because they did not see any billings for the estimated hours. Hello!! I had not billed for them yet!! Would a person not think that they would allow for that?! Guess not, that would be too easy. After 3 weeks, I finally got hers taken care of and approved. However, I lost a weeks work that I can not bill. That is such BS!!! Okay, I need to explain. That 'friend' moved to Texas in August, so I have been working with the little girl since then. I do not mind putting in extra. I do a lot of it. I lost a few days working with her anyway, no big deal. Better than her not having any services and that happens, a lot. The State knows they can get away with lapes in funding and just take advantage of people like me. I almost always show up early and stay longer than what I billed. There are late night phone calls, movies on the weekends, transportations, visits with their families, none of which are billed. Yes, it is free for the State. I do not mind, not at all. I am getting good Karma from this and the clients need it. I would rather have good Karma than money anyway. I spend time with some of my former clients, as well: movies, my son‘s football games, lunches, dinners. We are like friends and family. I am happy to have them to do things with and to go places. Sure, I miss deep intellectual conversation and feedback. Then, today, I get a notice in the mail that they denied my claims for one of my other clients for the last 2 weeks of September. It is $1,800 worth!!! The place that actually pays us, a pay service the government uses, ACS, told me that I was not approved because I changed my provider number. They told me that I have a different provider number and my old one was not valid. HELLO!! You are the ones who changed it! It was valid when I was providing the services!!! Yes, it is not now, but it was then, damn it!!!!!! I did exactly what the State told me to do and now I am getting screwed by them! ACS told me I have to talk to the case manager about it. They have nothing to do with that end of, so pass the buck. I have lost over $2,000 because the friggin’ State’s moronic rules and regulations. Then, the State has the nurve to complain that we do not have enough providers in our State for the number of people who need services! What do you idiots expect?!! We all should work for free? Then, I found out that any one who works with children, which is any client under 21, or any one who works with any age ABI client, they have to have a college degree. Okay, understandable, but what about a person who has worked with them for many years? I can guarantee it, people, experience is far more worthy and necessary in this business than a damn college education. No problem for me because I have more than they require for a degree, plus over 4 years experience, but that is going to kill me for hiring someone. That eliminated everyone from my list. Now, I do not know anyone that I can hire. The adult wavier program does not require a degree, yet, it pays more. They want higher educated and more experienced providers, but they want to pay less. Go figure! Well, since I had to wait so long to hire someone, I lost 4 of my clients. Now that I have all of this done and I have busted my ass getting it approved, I do not need anyone. It is for the best, I guess. Those other clients were non-compliant and very difficult to work with and, well, that just sounds like a cop-out to me. Things work out for the better, I just am frustrated with the damn “system” right now.

Prep Player of the Week”

2005-10-12T17:11:00.000-06:00

Our newspaper here gives out what they call the “Prep Player of the Week” awards on Wednesdays for local high school athletes. This weeks recipients was my son, Trevor’s school’s whole defensive team. Since Trevor played on the defense in that game, although only one play, he is a part of that!!! Very exciting for me!! And his grandparents. He is a starter on the varsity but he only plays on kick returns now ( as the return guy). He was the staring DB for the first two games, but he and several others with the wrong last name were replaced. I am still very proud of him. His team is doing very good this year, much better than the past 2 he has been on the team.

2005-10-11T13:08:00.000-06:00

Feral kittens in our back yard. One day last summer, a stray showed up and he got feed and 2 weeks he was a pregnant she and 2 weeks after that she had 5 kittens. 2 we found homes for, but the others just keep hanging around. Probably because they get feed 3 times a day. They are so cute though.

2005-10-11T13:03:00.000-06:00

Have not put any photos on here in a while, so I thought I would add a few. This is my son, Trevor, and myself. It was taken 9-3-05 on my birthday.

2005-10-11T12:39:00.000-06:00

My son, Trevor. Yes, he is a football player, but not a jock. Actually, I am very proud that he is an athlete and not a stupid drunk junkie like I was at his age. Also, he is very, very good at football. He is going to the same high school that I graduated from, awhile ago. Football is his only sport he plays at school. When the season is over, he works-out all off season. I have never pushed him to do any of the others, but I sometimes wish he would play basketball or track. He was a very good hockey goalie when he was in grade school, the best in the league actually, but he decided on football in jr. high. Actually, I have never pushed him to do anything. I wanted him to be musician like his old man, but he has no interest. He is not much into art, either. I just encourage him to keep doing what he likes to do. I have not missed any of his games, except for one this year and one last year, but he was playing Sophomore, JV and Varsity. I could not make the 10 hour drive to Evanston last year.

Columbus Day.

2005-10-10T15:20:00.000-06:00

Whoever had October 9th in the pool, you won. We got our first snow of the year last night and has been snowing all day today. Thick, heavy, wet, more like spring time snow. There is still lots of leaves on the trees and this heavy snow broke lots of branches down. Sometimes, this type of snow kills older trees. That is sad, but maybe it is God’s way of pruning. We need to moisture here. I like the snow. That is why I live here. Howere, thios morning at Spinning, I visualized myself doing Yoga on a warm sunny beach in Jamaica.

Today is Columbus Day. I am NOT in favor of this holiday. To begin with, Columbus did not ‘discover’ this country. He did not even make it here. This country was visited by Europeans 500 years before him. Leif Erickson Day would be more accurate. I used to think that we should just change it to Discovery Day and not assign it to one person‘s name, but this country was not “discovered.” There was already hundreds of thousands of people living here. I worked with a guy at the cemetery a few years ago who is Latino. He told me that this day is a slap in the face for his people. I can understand that. Columbus has been reported to be a murderer and a slave owner and rapist and thief. If not him, then his crew and all the others after him. My Great, Great Grandmother was full blood Native American. She and her entire tribe, Tuckayoo, were moved by our government from their home in Tennessee to Oklahoma on the “Trail of Tears.” They were all promised to live there forever as they choose. Less than 5 years latter, their land was given to white settlers. My Great, Great Grandmother Mary Jane (her white name, sorry, I do not know her real name) married a Scottish immigrant, Arthur Oliver, while still in Tennessee. The Tuckayoo tribe was matriarchal so he lived with her family. Just before the government gave my Grandparent’s land away, they moved to Kansas. From there, they and their 12 children wagon trained to Oregon. About 100 miles into Wyoming, the kids caught small pocks and died, all 12 of them. They are all buried in the old historic cemetery at Ft. Laramie, Wyoming. My Grandparents homesteaded just 20 miles from the Fort between there and Lingle, Wyoming. They never made it to Oregon. They had nine more children. That farm is still in my family, only because they ‘pretended’ to be white. Whenever I think about Columbus and white settlers and the genocide of an entire human race, I tend to side with my Grandmother’s people. So, I say, no Columbus Day or Discovery Day or any thing like it. There should be a Sitting Bull or Crazy Horse or someone like them day. Just my biased opinion. This country was a blessing to my mother’s side of the family. Her Grandfather immigrated here from Greece just before Mussolini took over and Hitler and fascism. So, I am 1/16 Native American, Scottish, and 1/8 the Greek, but in my heart, I am full Native American. We have little ties to Greece or Greek traditions because when my Great Grandfather got here, he said he was in America now and he would do American things only, not Greek.

Another favorite album

2005-10-08T10:55:00.000-06:00

The J. Geils Band: Bloodshot

No matter how foul my mood, no matter how dark, no matter how depressed, no matter how angry, this album instantly transforms me into the happiest guy in the World. This album is a combination of rock & roll, soul, funk, blues and Motown. In the 80’s, these guys had some hits, but the 80’s stuff is nothing like this. Magic Dick one of the greatest harmonica players ever. I have spent many hours trying to play like this guy, and I come far short. Back in the late 70’s, everyone who owned a harmonica wanted to play like him. This album was released in 1973 and it did get a little airplay back then with “Give It to Me,” but they did to see the type of success they had in the 80’s. With the first song, "(Ain’t Nothin’ but a) House Party," there is no longer any hope for depression or sadness or negativity. By the end of the song, unless you are comatose or even if you are, you are on your feet. Half way through the next song, “Make Up Your Mind,” you are dancing, and by the last song, your sweating like you just ran a mile and wanting more. A party or two back in the day I was at, a bore, a waste of time, turned into a kicker after this album came on the stereo. Those that were already kicking, turned into raggers. People who once had sat there dead, danced, alone or with multiple partners. The whole palce was one big dance floor and we all were dance partners! Today, it still sounds great, even sober, especially sober. It is just fun! How many ablums can I say that about? Not many.

2005-10-08T07:32:00.000-06:00

To be my new friends and new readers, I would like to fill you in a little about me. I have a ton of blogs on here and I would not expect you to go back and read them all. I would love it, but I do not have that kind of time and I suspect you do not either. First of all, thanks for reading my blogs and making comments. It means a lot to me. When I quit my 17 year alcohol addiction/ problem, my entire life changed. The typical story is the person who looses it all and then decides to quit. I quit and lost it all. My career, my ’friends,’ my family, but most importantly, my thoughts and beliefs. I knew nothing else but drinking and drugs. Not only was I lost, I discovered I had huge issues, 30 years worth. Just imagine for a second losing everything you have right now. Your friends, your family, your husband or boyfriend, your job, your entire way of life and then, you are unemployed and so depressed you can not see or think of anything else but dieing. Dieing would be a privilege and you know what, God says you are not worth it. Can you imagine being that low? And not be able to have that old crutch there for you? I am not asking for sympathy, nor do I consider myself a hero. I put myself there. I knew better, well, I know better now. I busted my ass to fix myself and to be a better person. Not better than anyone else, but better than who I was before. So, 8 years of hard work and confusion and rebuilding my Faith and my beliefs and my way of life, I meet a woman. Of all the woman I was a with before (it was not so many, I have had a lot of long term relationships) not once did I feel any of them was the ‘one.’ I had no clue how it even felt. I could not even understand the concept of just loving that one person for the rest of my life. Many of those women told me I was their ‘one.’ But this girl, I felt it for her. She told me, just shortly after I moved in with her, that she felt like she had just been killing time with her life and the others until I finally showed-up in her life. Wow! For a guy who spent most of his life hating himself, that was just in-describable. I felt like all of my hard work had accumulated to her and that point. Life was perfect and so much better than I had imagined it. Then, a little over a year after I moved in, she kicked me out. She told me that all of the beliefs and faith we shared was mine and not hers. I was so devastated that I was in shock, numb to the World (which is not so bad, actually). I worked hard to keep moving forward and to keep going in that same direction, that heal myself and become better and try to help others. Then, I lost it all. All of those tools I had not only stopped working, they made it worse. It seemed to me that not only did everything stop working and was taken for me, it was used against me. In 2001, I quit my job at the psych hospital because I could not afford Boulder and I did not get into grad school. I would try 4 more times are different schools, and not get it. I moved back in with my parents after that job because I had no job and no money. I am so very grateful to have them! It would be 18 months before I found a job. 18 months of the worse time of my life. I spent 23 hours a day in my bedroom, alone, mostly sleeping and wishing to be dead. I was dead. I was not even surviving. I am ashamed to say this, but I hated God. It was all God’s fault. God hated me and oppressed me. I use the word ‘God’ to label a concept. You can say whatever word you want, it is all the same. It is like trying to label the ALL and Everything and trying to describe love with one word. The word “God’ to me does not have so much a Christian basis, like I know is common here. I have studied religions and they have a good place, but eventually, if one truly wants to grow, they will need to rise above religion. Anyway, I got a job finally, but only for 3 months. Then it was another 9 months before I found work again. Look in your DSM IV. They have a specific diagnosis for un-employment. I have had to rebuild what was already a rebuild. My self-esteem was gone, nothing, worse than nothing. You spend that much time alone and everything is about you. In my foolish opinion, 9-11 was my fault. So, I am so much better now. After a break-up, it is best to spend some time alone to heal and grow and reflect and to move forward. To not take that time off means you will just be right back in the same bad situation you were before. How much time alone? Well, that is up to that person. It has been 6 years, this month, for me. I have tried, but there is always something there blocking me, preventing me, saving me from myself. There comes a point in that healing and growth with the time alone that growth can no longer move forward. A person needs to get back out there and continue healing and growing while being with others. In my opinion, I am at that point. There are a few women in my life, but there are just lots of red flags. Plus, I can not seem to get myself to ask. I hated dating in the 70’s when it was easy. Now, there are too many rules. I am not good with rules. In fact, rules are meant to be broken. Rules are NOT for the righteous man, but for liars and thieves and murders. So, what do I do? I have tried the internet. It has not worked. I miss touch so much!!! Just a silly little hug would fill me with so much joy that… okay. I think you understand me now. I am still a work in progress, but I am so much better than before. Thanks for listening to me.

thoughts and friends and sex buddies and stuff

2005-10-06T17:34:00.000-06:00

After I wrote my last blog, I eat some lunch while having some thoughts. I thought about why I do not have many friends or a wife or girlfriend or even a sex buddy. Do not have any good answers. Divine Intervention is about the best I can sum it all up. The friends thing, well, who knows. I spent some time looking at other blogs today. I used some links with band names, Dead Kennedy’s was one and The Cure another (both bands I like very much). There are lots of people complaining about their friends and how much they hate them and all the mean things they have done. You people should try being alone for 6 years. You might wish to have someone to hate, but I do not wish for that. I would rather be alone than to have friends who hurt me. But can that really be helped? Can we have friends and always get along and not hurt each other? NO. So maybe I do wish that I had someone to hate at times. I just would not want one who never calls or does not show up when they say they will or ignores me when they see me in public or.. Hey, wait! That is my ‘friends.’ Is that why I go to movies alone? With my interests, I am a contradiction. I LOVE punk, especially 80’s hardcore stuff, but I am not angry, not any more… well, not in general and not today. Oh, sure, I like to break stuff, but I do not hate nor I do usually want to hurt someone, except myself at times. I love 80’s New Wave and the Cure and Devo and the B-52’s and lots of that other stuff, but I also love 80’s hair metal, Cinderella or Motley Crue, and 80’s hardcore heavy metal, like Slayer and Metallica. I love Motown and soul and 70’s disco and blues, but I can not tolerate rap or hip hop. Country, especially the new stuff, is not at all for me! Where I live, I am in the vast minority with that, especially for my age group. That stuff depresses me and makes me want to go postal. I would rather listen to teh lold traditional country and that is even more depressing. If I want to get mellow, I will put on some old Elton John. Seems like I am either too old or too young thinking, or otherwise. I love to play music, mostly my guitars and my harmonica and I wish I could my drums but they are in storage right now. Music is extremely important to me and a HUGE part of my life. I wish so much to be in band again, but who out there in this hick town wants to play and not party all night? Who out there just wants to play and have fun and not worry about getting signed or if I played the note correctly or not? I do not know anyone. No, I do not drink or smoke or take drugs, illicit or not, and I love God and my son and my family and my cat and my dog and my fish and usually life. I am NOT religious, just spiritual, but I do not preach it to others, I just live it. I work-out 7 times a week, Spinning, weight-lifting, and Yoga. I teach a drawing class at our local YMCA. I am a very talented artist, most people say, but I am not interested in doing ‘Western” art nor do I like it. Tough attitude to have in Wyoming. Don’t sell many drawings, but who says I want to? I am in it for the 'doing,' for the creating, not the end result or the money. I only teach at the Y because I get to work-out for free there now and because I love to teach, especially art. Okay, so whatever. I am a damn nice guy and I am smart and great in bed and a lot of fun to be around. I would like that my wife be my best friend, but that seems to be even harder to find than a good friend. Oh, I tried the internet. I got a few nice pen pals, but nothing more. I tried so many sites and got zero. Even a sex buddy would be good, but again, Divine Intervention. Oh, I have tried, but no go. Safe me from myself and all that. I am not the type of person who can just have sex without any emotional attachment. Call me old fashion or stupid, or silly or whatever, but I am what I am. I am the best friend a person can have. I will not drink all your beer or smoke all your cigarettes and I do not eat much. I will not steal your girlfriend or sleep with your wife. That is mostly because I get along much better with women than men. Most all of my best friends have been woman, the ones who like men better for friends. There is just nothing wrong with me and maybe that is the problem.
Okay, so enough of my complaining.

nothing new

2005-10-06T11:12:00.000-06:00

What I have to say today is maybe not so important. NO, I have not had any really good dreams lately. I think I have had a few, but as soon as I wake, my thoughts eat them. I love to sleep and I especially love dreaming. It is such a cooler place to be than here. I finally got all of my paper work and certification and all of that to be an official business now instead of a person. There is still more paper work and stuff to do, but I am taking a break and doing some 'real' writing. I just finished editing my first novel I wrote in 2000 and added some more pages to it. I am re-writing one that I started 3 years ago, an autobiography. It starts with my visit to the psych ward because that is when my “life” actually began. In November, I am going to my brother’s wedding in Jamaica. I have never been out of the country before safe for Tijuana. Should be great! I purchased a new digital camera so I will be able to post some photos on here from the trip. Still no love interest in my life, no girlfriend or even a sex buddy (other than my 2 hands). This month, it will be 6 years since I had any of that. Oh, well, my life is better in so many ways now compared to then, and extremely better than 3 years ago. I am sure that I will be getting ‘some’ soon.

dreams and boxes

2005-09-28T14:52:00.000-06:00

Sunday night/Monday morning, 9-26-2005, I had an interesting ‘dream.’ I do not think I an actually call what happened a dream, but that will be close enough. It was at my Grandma’s house in Guernsey, where my dreams are very significant and have important messages for me. At her house was a detached garage that was right at the alley. It was big and had a nice closed-in attic. When I lived with her, I made it my bedroom. Of course, in the winter I could not stay out there because it had no heat. That attic is my favorite place in the World. It is my heaven. In my ‘dream’ I was loading stuff into the back of my brand new 2006, silver Subaru Outback (no, it is not physically with me right now, but I am working on it). The stuff was ‘toys’ or things that I do not really need some as much that I want them, like a huge TV and that kind of stuff. There was lots of band equipment, too. I have a lot now, but a person can never have enough guitars, right? In fact, there is 2 more I wish to have right now. I want a hollow body electric and a Twelve-string acoustic. I also want a new drum set (although mine now is a good one. Yes, I can play drums, too) and a violin. I have a very good PA system now, too. Okay, so I was watching myself from the attic load stuff into the car. Then, I noticed there was a whole bunch of guitars and stands in the attic. So, I went up to look at them. There was probably 20 or more. So, I took some and some extra stands for my other ones and put them in my new car. Then, 2 huge boxes appeared by each of my sides. The boxes are actually just the tops and they hold endless supplies of stuff. One box is for me and all that I desire to have and the other is for other people. There was a huge house behind me, not my Grandma’s small one, but an enormous house. It was 3 stories and had a basement as well. The house is mine and my family’s. That is where all of my family stuff is and all of the stuff for them. A beautiful wife and children who love me as much as I love them. They have all they need through me, any thing they want materially and emotionally. Quickly, all the stuff faded and shrank. No, it did not go away, it is just hidden and more compact. When I need it, I just open them up with my thoughts. Then, I think I woke, but I am not sure. I started to smell fried chicken. My Grandma’s fried chicken. Oh, she was the best cook ever!!! Yeah, everybody says that about their Grandmother, until they tried my Grandma’s cooking. When she comes to me, I smell her first. The smells used to always be her famous coffee. It had a very unique smell. Now days, the smells are her food. Those smells remind me of her excellent food! Sure do miss it. Grandma started telling me about the boxes and that I now have everything that I could ever want and more. She said it is time for me to begin giving stuff to others and taking my stuff. Other people were there and I just could not get back to sleep. I had already woke up twice before this.
I have been very tired and drained since Monday. I have even skipped a few work-outs to get an extra hour of sleep and taking naps, but I can not seem to get caught up.

more of the "Tin Man"

2005-09-08T20:01:00.000-06:00

On Wednesday, I was driving to pick-up one of my clients. I was feeling pretty good about getting certified finally through the State of Wyoming to be able to provide res hap services. I had been working on it for months! I needed it to be done because I have been working for free with my client. He just moved out on his own from his parents house. When a DD person, who is an adult, moves out and they are living independently, they can only receive day hap and res hap services. To me, it just did not seem to make much sense why. I have been basically doing the same things with him. Therefore, I asked the person at the State and she told me that it so they can have 24 hour service available to them. If there is some situation that they need some kind of help at say 2:00AM, then there is someone they can call. I was doing this anyway for him. I am available to all of my clients at anytime if they need me. Oh, and get this! Starting in October, the State is changing this! They are making it so the DD person can get the other services I was certified to provide already! I could have just waited for month and not have to do all of this stinking paper work! However, I want to be a big organization some day, so I wanted to be certified anyway. I am waiting to get day hap when I have a building and everything. On the way to my client’s house, I was going through the radio stations because all but one on the memory was playing a commercial. That song quickly ended and guess which song came on? “Tin Man” by America! Coincidence? Oh. No! When I heard that song, I thanked God for Helping me. Looking at it now, I have a thought. It is easy to say God is our friend when a nice little Miracle happens or when things are going very good. It is not so easy to say God is our friend when times are bad. I still have some work to do. I need to just believe!

Also on that morning, before I left, I had this song stuck in my head. I was singing to myself as I got ready for work. I was even singing it loud. So, after “Tin Man,” that station began their commercials, so I changed the station. That song came on!!! I love it when this stuff happens!!

"Tin Man"

2005-09-03T10:51:00.000-06:00

On Thursday morning, September 1st, my alarm woke me to the sound of a song by America, “Tin Man.” My alarm clock is set to the radio instead of that annoying beep. I have set on a local 24 hours station that plays oldies. Most mornings, I am entertained by a good “old time” rock or pop song. Also, I choose this station because they are very reliable. I can go to bed with confidence knowing that they will not be off the air when it is time for my alarm to sound. That, and I used to work at this station. Well, actually, it was at their sister AM station that now has a sports and country music format. On this morning, this song was of more interest than usual. Not that I like that particular song so much, just in how it happened. This was actually extraordinary! To begin with, on Thursday, I not normally get up at that time. I had to get up an hour earlier than usual. When the alarm sounded and America was singing “Tin Man” to me, I recalled hearing this same song before in this similar situation: getting up early to go exercise at the YMCA at 5:00AM. Coincidence? Maybe, but as I was listening, I quickly thought to myself, “Hey, that is the at the exact spot of the song as before.” Oh, so maybe there is a reason. I focused intently on the lyrics. Just as it had a happened before, just as the alarm sounded on that other day a few weeks or longer previously, they were singing the chorus, “But Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man, That he didn’t, didn’t already have.” Oh, I see. Ummm? Well, if you know this song, you will recall that this particular lyric, this chorus, is repeated many times during the song. So, I listened, not just with my ears, but with my heart as I hastily dressed in my gym clothes. The rest of the chorus is: “And Cause never was the reason for the evening, Or the tropic of Sir Galahad. So, please, believe in me.” Sir. Galahad had little meaning for me at that point, but the rest was loud and clear. God was speaking to me. Yes, through some silly pop group form the 70’s. Not silly to me, they have some great music, but still, I am sure the nay sayers are saying right now, “Sure, Tim and what sort of drugs were you on?” I can see the Church Lady from Saturday Night Live saying, “Or could it be… Satan. Ummm?” I have been looking for love and money and all the things that they bring to me. Love, of course, is the most important thing. Well, God did not give me something that I do not already have, you see? There is someone in my life right now. The last lyric I quoted here was even more powerful. “So, please, believe in Me.” I have not been doing so well with that. What I need is already here, I just need to believe that God will Help me to help it grow. I need to stop playing the victim at times and blaming God for everything that is wrong in my life. I need to believe and to make God my friend again. No, there are no coincidence.

my birthday

2005-08-31T13:21:00.000-06:00

Saturday, September 3rd, is my birthday. I will be 46. My birthday is just another day, or sometimes, worse. I do not get cards in the mail, have not for many years now. None of my family comes over for visits or cake and ice cream or even at the least makes phone calls to me. I do not receive gifts from any one but my son and my parents. Some years, I have not gotten anything from Trevor. Thank his mother for that. I have always made sure that he gets his mother (my ex) a gift and a card for her birthday, Christmas and Mother’s Day. She seldom does the same for me. For the first 10 years or more, she never did it. Unless my mother takes care of it, Trevor never does any of it anyway. I used to think that people wanted to skip there birthdays because they were joking about getting older. It is no joke for me. I do not remember how long ago it has been since anyone came over for cake and stuff. I do not like this feeling! I sure do not like having to struggle with it every year. It should not bother me by now, being so many years. Besides, I never really made much of my birthday before, but the past 10 years or so, I just dread it coming. I do not like fighting with my emotions and trying to be a big boy about it. Such a waste of energy.
In all fairness, though, I only have one grandparent that is still alive. She is my mother’s mother. She disowned me when I got divorced 17 years ago. I have not received any cards at all from her, no matter the holiday. She sends them to Trevor, though, and I am very grateful for that. The irony of this is that she has been married 5 times. The divorce is probably not why she disowned me. When I was married, my ex worked at a bank. Of course, we had our account there. Like an idiot, I let her take care of paying our bills. I just deposited my pay check, keeping beer and gas money, and let her take care of everything. The last year before our divorce, we had purchased a house. In order to get it, we consolidated all of our loans into one. I had 3 credit cards and she had one. We both agreed to not use our cards. Like any couple who thinks they are going to be happily married, I put her name on all of my cards. One day, about 3 weeks after we moved into that house, I came home to brand new curtains over our big sliding back door. I asked her where they came from and what money. She told me she used one of my cards to pay for them. In fact, she maxed it out. Not only that, but she maxed out my other 2 cards on stuff that we did not need, nor could we afford, for the house. As you can imagine, we could not make our bills. We could not make our second house payment. So, we barrowed some money from my grandmother. A year latter, we are divorced. She got the house and I got the payments. Fortunately, she sold it that same month we got divorced. She just got someone to take over the payments. Of course, I had to pay the realtors fee of a $1,000. So, after I moved out and started getting my own mail, I began getting all the bills for my credits cards. Because of the divorce contract, I had to pay all of my own bills, even though it was for her furniture and stuff she had bought and took with her. Same sad story, boo hoo for me, right? Hear it all the time, right? Well, I discovered that she had not paid any of my bills. None of the stuff that was in my name had been paid on for over a year!! That included my grandmother. So, for $1,000, I have been disowned by my grandmother. She is very wealthy. No, not a millionaire, but has not had to work in over 30 years. She has tons of money and she gives the rest of my family a lot more money than that all the time. So what? When she stands before God after her death, she will have to answer why. Not only did I have all of those credit cards, but the consolidation loan payments, my car payment (for my Corvette) and the amount due for Trevor’s birth that my insurance would not cover ($750). Anyway, she was not my favorite grandmother growing-up. My father’s mother was my favorite. I used to spend all of my summers with her. She lived in this very small town named Guernsey (yes, after the cow) that had only 800 people that lived there. I even lived with her for my 10th grade year of high school. I loved that town and her house! My life could be in complete chaos and once I pulled into Guernsey, nothing mattered. All of my troubles and worries just fell off me like water off a duck's back. It was my own little heaven. My Grandmother died about 10 years ago. I sure do miss her! She was the best cook in the World!! We spent all of our holidays at her house. My family would get together at her house, my aunt and uncle and my 5 cousins, and my parents and my sister and brother. At her funeral, my cousins got mad at me because I would not drink with them. That was when they decided I should not be family anymore.
I know a few people that make a huge ordeal out of their birthdays. To them, there is no bigger holiday, no day in life more important than their birthday. Even back when I was a kid, my birthday was not so special as all that. When I was 5, we lived in a small town in Wyoming called Torrington. Torrington did not have Kindergarten. In fact, Kindergarten was not consider part of school and was not an official part of the school district here back then. There was a private Kindergarten, but my parents did not have the money to pay for me to go. Back in the day, school always started the Tuesday after “Labor Day.” My birthday is sometimes on “Labor Day.” My very first day of school, my first day of 1st grade, was on my 6th birthday. I can recall my mother had made cupcakes for the whole class. I remember setting at my school desk eating my chocolate cupcake. It was all down hill from there :) I used to get into lots of trouble in school. Oh, nothing major, just goofing around and showing off. Mostly I got in trouble for day dreaming and not doing my school work. Although I got into my share of fights, I was never suspended for fighting. In my 1st year, I got 2 spankings. Yes, they still did that back then. I spent many recesses indoors doing school work. One day, my 1st grade teacher hit me over the head with the “Weekly Readers” that were all rolled up from the mail. She just walked back into the room and pop! right on the back of my head. Then, she sat down and began yelling at me for something (who knows?) and she got even more upset. She stood up and hit me again on the head with her ink pin. Those two incidents were not the spankings in case you are wondering. On no! I had to stand-up in front of the whole class, bend down, garb my ankles and take a few swats from the wooden pattle. Hey, nice school day memories! Second grade was no better and on and on until graduation.
The bad part for me when I was a kid with my birthday was that I always got school clothes for my gifts. I am grateful to have gotten gifts (and clothes), but it did not seem fair that my sister and brother got new school clothes just because and I had to use up my birthday gifts for them. I would have much rather had stuff like toys. Even back in my drinking days, I did not make much of my birthday. I sure do miss birthday sex though.

more zombies

2005-08-20T17:06:00.000-06:00

Tuesday morning, August 16th, I dreamt about zombies again. In all horror movies, the monsters or evil characters represent a specific human aspect. Zombies represent mindless people who did not think for themselves. They only follow the crowd and never reach out for anything better nor do they take any chances, even though this slowly kills them and all of the others around them. My dreams this day were very violent. In the beginning of my dream, I was sleeping and they came for me. I was in a very tall place, but they began to stand on each others shoulders to try and get me through a large window. I went for my shotgun, which I did not actually find. However, I used my imagination and knowing that I indeed have a shotgun and began shooting them. I just stuck out my arms as if I was actually holding an actual gun and fired several shots at the heads of the zombies. I aimed at the ones on the bottom so that the others would just fall down. Quickly, I ran to the front of the place I was in that became a big vehicle, a huge motor home, and sat down to drive. Seating in the drivers seat, I could see I was in nature, in a park area that had lots of trees and beautiful green grass. The weather was very warm and the Sun was bright. Many zombies came out of the trees at me and surrounded the motor home. There was too many of them for me to just shoot. They began climbing onto the sides of the vehicle, so I drove very fast through the trees. The trees knocked all of them off, except for one who was on the roof. He was dressed like a cowboy and had a big shotgun. He was trying to gain his balance and to shoot me through the roof. I drove faster and hit some bumps, rocking the vehicle. He feel off. Then, my alarm went off and I woke up. As I lay there thinking, “another zombie dream,” I fell back to sleep. The zombie dream continued, only I was now in a different setting. I was walking through a big city on an open lot. On the ground was lots of rubbish and items all over. I reached down and picked-up a baseball bat. There was many zombies now all around me and I began knocking their heads off with the bat. Yes, lots of blood and brains, just for fun I suppose. Several times, I was close to being bitten!! Of course, in the movies, if one is bitten by a zombie, they become a zombie. Then, I woke up again, but feel to sleep and the dream started again. In this version, I was inside a big building. I walking through a hallway that was very cluttered with many items. Actually, the correct term would be climbing through the hallway because of so much debris. There was old beds and mattresses and furniture and clothing everywhere. I was following some others as we were escaping and there were others behind me. The zombies were outside and after us. We did not have any guns, but there was plenty of items to use to defend our selves. I choose a tire iron. Then, I woke again, but this time I got out of bed and went to the YMCA for my work-out.
Many years ago, when my sobriety was very new, I would have dreams of a very large crocodile. It would be larger than a dinosaur!!! In those first few dreams, it would eat me. I would be very frightened when I woke, unable to return to sleep. Then, I began to understand that the crocodile was just my problems and issues in life. In the Bible, there are references to dragons as evil demons or even as Satan. Many Biblical scholars believe that this word has been mistranslated and that the word is actually referring to crocodiles. In the times of Jesus and just before, crocodiles were not found in Europe. European people had never seen such a large reptiles before. The explorers and sailors began bringing them back from their trips to India and Africa. This was such a new and horrible site for the Europeans! A ten foot monster with huge teeth. They were told horrible and exaggerated stories of crocodiles that would eat hundreds of children and adults. To people in Egypt, these crocodiles were evil because they did eat there children and maim adults. To these Europeans, the crocodiles appeared to them as mythical monsters. Many viewed crocodiles as evil monsters from Hell. I did not know this information until after I had several of those dreams. Thus, I made the connection that the crocodile was actually my own personal monster. In the Western Hemisphere, there are no crocodiles, but only alligators. In my very first dream, I knew that this was a crocodile and not an alligator. That small piece of information helped me to establish that connection of information. After I began to work on coping with my troubles in life, those crocodile dreams began to change. The crocodile would not get me or kill me because I was able to run or escape from it. When I would awake, I would feel safe, but I also knew that the crocodile would only find me again. Then, I became upset with myself. I did not feel like much of a man. I felt weak and foolish for running. So, I worked harder on my issues. Then, I learned that we can change things in our dreams. We can control certain outcomes or events. After I discovered this knowledge, I had another crocodile dream. This was many years latter after the first one, but when it happened, I reminded myself that I could kill this monster. Yes, it would be very difficult, but I knew I could do it and, therefore, I did not run away. Many ideas came to mind for killing it that included weapons such as spears or bows. Guns or modern weapons and devises did not come to mind, but a reminded myself that I have a sword. Then, my mighty sword appeared in my hands! I made plans to leap onto the crocodiles back, then run my sword through the top of it’s head, through it’s small brain, killing it. However, I woke up before I could implement my plans. To this day, the crocodile has not returned in my dreams.
This zombie dream is just telling me not to give in and not be like the rest of the mindless people. I want something more out of life! It is very hard some days. I could just settle for a relationship with someone in my surroundings, settling for what ever is already there, and not for strife for something better. I would be very unhappy, but I would not be alone. I am so tired of being alone!!! However, this is just not me! I have settled for less in my life before. I have taken the easy road and I was miserable!! No more!!!
Continue fight off the zombies and know true love!!

feelings

2005-08-08T16:58:00.000-06:00

For about the past 3 weeks or so, I have been experiencing an interesting feeling. What I have been feeling and rather intensely at times, is the feeling of not wanting to be who I am, or where I am at, or doing what I am doing. This feeling has been very intense at times and disruptive. I have even been very frustrated, bordering on anger, from it. I recall feeling this way before, this not wanting to be who I am or where I am at or doing what I am doing. At this point in time, and just as before, that feeling about not wanting to be who I am does not mean who I am physically. I am comfortable with myself, something I can not say has always been here, and I even like myself, which is a huge change from even 6 months ago. These days, I define myself, partly, by my chosen career. I work helping others and that is who I am, but not exclusively. The last time I felt this way was right after I graduated from high school. I had the same job for over 2 years while I was finishing school. I had been thinking about my future a lot, but had not put much effort into it. I just knew I wanted something different with my life. One day that June, I broke up with my girlfriend, quit my job and spent 3 weeks with my grandmother in a different town, Guernsey. When I came back, I still felt the same, but I knew I had to do something about it. A few weeks latter, I cut my hair (it was actually longer then than it is now), got a job and made a ton of new friends. The job was still as a cook, though. Of course, I began to binge drink a lot. Maybe that is more of a what not to do than to follow it. Yet, I still feel that I need a change. That feeling has been making me feel that I do not want to do work anymore. After I quit drinking and began to heal about 14 years ago, I have felt a huge responsibility toward God and the Universe to repay for all of the help and healing I received from Them. That feeling was very intense and deeply engrained. It motivated me to work hard and get through college. It sustained me and defined me and separated me from the others. That motivation is no loner there. Yes, I still wish to help others and to make a positive difference in the World. I just do not feel I owe any one anything. Maybe I am still working on redefining myself. I have begun to understand, in the past few months, that I can have so much more from life, to be rich and have all that I desire, because I do have that right!! I think what is going on with me is that I no longer have any limits on myself. Perhaps I have grown to the point of wanting so much more that my current living situation is no longer acceptable. It was not before, but I was accepting and just let it be. For the past few weeks, I have been unable to get past the initial feeling and to become frustrated. Today, I have been able to feel some of it more deeply. I do not hate myself, which is a huge change from before. I am just unhappy with my current situation. I want a new car and my own place to live and a wife and family. With all of this positive thinking and visualization, I guess I want my external world to match my new internal world.

My dream from 7-26-2005

2005-07-31T08:55:00.000-06:00

This dream was very real, very vivid and very intense. This was the type of dream that I was watching myself, still feeling all of my emotions, still knowing and hearing all of my thoughts, but watching myself as though watching a movie. Everything seemed more vivid, more alive, more colorful. The dream began with me in this really big house that had been converted into some type of restaurant. This house was across the street form our YMCA. There is a building there, but the landscape was a little different. The house/restaurant was full of people eating meals at tables. There also was many spiders, everywhere. The spiders were very, very small, baby, yellow Wolf spiders. Wolf spiders are very common around here. They are not venomous nor will they bite. They seldom ever come indoors, preferring to find a corner somewhere on the house. However, they can get big, sometimes about the size of a golf ball. They are a sandy brown color, with dark brown stripes on their legs and body and have a very fat thorax. To be honest, I do not know why they are called Wolf spiders. There is no resemblance to wolves. Anyway, the customers were getting upset about the little baby spiders crawling on everything. A few were crawling on me. One was on my left arm, but I just set it down on the floor. I became very adamant with the customers about not killing the spiders. In real life, I do not kill insects, especially spiders. Spiders are a huge factor in the ecosystem and keep the other bug populations down. Many of our smaller and prettier birds here eat only insects. I have an Ukrainian friend who told me that in her country, they say if a person kills a spider, then they will never have enough money. Although I did not say it to the customers in my dream, the spiders were being used in the fruit drinks/Smoothies there (very odd!!! Shades of “Ruby Juice” maybe?). The restaurant people were not killing the spiders, but extracting something from them. I heard my thoughts say “essence.” Anyway, I went (can not say walked because I was just suddenly there) into another room and it was full of adult size Wolf spiders. I was very careful not to step on any of them. You know, I have a belief that if I am kind to spiders and I do not think them as wishing to harm me, they will not harm me. I just pick them up with my bare hands and place them outdoors. In my dream, they do not try to run from me or climb on me or bite me. After carefully leaving that room, I found myself outside, about to leave the restaurant. As I was across the dirt parking lot to my mother’s car, I heard a whistling sound like a bomb was dropping. I looked up and caught a brief glimpse of a 5th-wheel camper trailer, flying through the air. It was about 200/250 yards above me and went out of my sight very quickly. I was not sure I saw it at first, but I had a “feeling.” I knew what was going on and just as I felt that “feeling,” a huge horse trailer flew by in the sky. That confirmed it for me! Then, it suddenly appeared before me!! Just behind the house was a huge F5 tornado that was insanely large. It was more than 10 city blocks wide! The sky had turned very dark, black and in places it glowed vibrant reds and oranges. The colors were so bright and vivid and brilliant that they did not seem real. As far as I could see, the sky was this way. It made everything seem as though it was night time, even though when I first began walking to the house, it was bright and warm and sunny. Beside the F5, 3 sisters tornados drooped down, but they were smaller, long and thin. The sister tornados were glowing bright red and orange as if they were on fire. I have seen this before. I saw a tornado in my city once hit a power line and turn bright yellow for the energy it absorbed. Although I could not see it clearly, I knew the colors meant they were causing major damage and causing fires and explosions. The sisters went to my right or West. The big F5 was coming straight toward me! I began running back to the restaurant to warn everybody. I was running as fast as I could but I was only moving in very slow motion. Perhaps you have had this type of experience in a dream before with running? Rather common, I suppose, but not so much for me. I looked over my right shoulder and up toward God and said aloud, “Oh, come on, I can run faster than this.” Slowly, as if my legs had been frozen and were now breaking apart, I began to move faster. I could feel my muscles begin to loosen up as if they had been locked. Finally, I got into the house and yelled to every one, “There’s a tornado! Get in the basement!” As if they did not hear me or believe me, nearly all of them stayed in their seats, continuing eating. One woman, one who was about to kill a spider earlier, got up and looked out often window. A few other followed her led. I did not stay try and encourage them further. Only one person, a male manager, went down stairs with me into the basement. The place was very cluttered and it was difficult to walk around. It was very quite down there, too quite, and the windows were too high up and too small for us to see outdoors. I was very anxious to get back up above to see what was going on outdoors. After a short time, I could wait no longer and went back upstairs. The house was destroyed, but not completely flattened. It looked as though a big tree had landed on it, crushing it down the middle, but the tree was not there. The tornados were gone, the sky was grey, but I could see no people anywhere. I began to walk toward my mother’s car to see if it was okay, and it was except for a minor dent on the front fender, but before I got to it, a bunch of police officers came running past me. One of them came up to me and asked if I was okay. “Yes,” I told him, “but there was a lot of people in that house there.” We both looked to the house. To our surprise, just behind the house, came another huge F5 tornado down from out of the sky. We jumped on the ground, over the edge of the hill that the parking lot and former house was on, to protect ourselves. We both watched the tornado hit the oil refinery we have here in my city. In my city, the refinery is not that close to the location I was at, but in my dream, it was about a ¼ mile behind the house. The refinery exploded and instantly burned to black asses, making the tornado glow bright red and orange. One of the oil towers flew into the air, on fire, and landed on the house. The loose ruble from the house instantly burned and the rest was compacted down to raw 2by4 lumber. The tornado went again to the West of me and was quickly over. The officer left me, walking toward the house, I walked over toward the car. I stood, from atop a the hill, and looked out at my city. It was completely destroyed. Every building and house and tree was now just plies of debris. The entire town was flattened and now just unrecognizable rubble. Still, there was no people. I began driving home. I had many troubles making through and over all of the debris on the roads. There is a large interstate highway, I80, that runs though my city. A person must pass under it before reaching my home on the South side of town. On this highway was a huge mess with piles of unrecognizable cars and trucks. The sky was now a darker grey, appearing to be nearly night time. I drove up this hill that near then top is one of ten over-passes, but I was having trouble getting up the hill. It was a s though it was covered in thick slick ice. The car spun around, facing back down the hill. I could feel it starting to slide off the road. There was other cars there and a deep ditch that I would not be able to drive out. I parked the car and began walking. On the highway, there was still big semi trucks driving very fast through the debris. I thought to myself with some distain, “Super-truckers.” These drivers are only concerned with themselves and getting to their destinations with no regards for human life or safety. After I crossed under the highway, my son, Trevor, was walking with me by my side. It was now night time and very dark because there was no electricity for lights. As we walked closer to my house, I began to wonder about our house. Trevor asked if it was going to still be there and be okay. When we arrived home, our house was fine. My parents were inside. They told Trevor and I that the tornado had picked up the house, turned it around to face the opposite direction (which would be East), then set it down perfectly on the frame. I woke up then. I laid in bed, scared out of my mind for a brief time. However, in my dream, I was not sacred, not once. In real life, I am not afraid of tornados. I saw my first one when I was just 5 years old. I have not spent much time analogizing it. I do think that the tornados are symbolic of things that are out of my control. If it had been some big demon or animal, then I could kill it, but a tornado is Mother Nature, or God. It was God’s Doing and God’s Will to destroy my city. I knew not to fight it. I have often dreamt about a huge demon that is trying to kill me. It is a huge crocodile that is bigger than King Kong or a dinosaur. That is something that can be killed. I suppose I could use magic to stop the tornado or be like “Storm” in the “X-Men,” but those thoughts or feelings did not come to me. I was completely resolved to allow the tornados to do their thing.

My dream from 7-26-2005

2005-07-31T07:57:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, I had a bad day.

2005-07-24T09:11:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, Satuarday, July 23, I had a bad day. I was angry again. My new self was buried under my old self.

It has been so very hot here. I do not like it. I feel lethargic and irritable when it is so hot like this. The heat just zaps all of my energy in a very short time. Monday, late afternoon, I got a touch of the stomach flu. With this heat, it has been lingering. Living where I do, the high altitude makes the Sun more intense and the heat feel hotter than actuality. With this stomach flu, I have missed all week of Yoga, and 2 of the 3 days of Spinning. Missing my exercising only added to the lethargy. Somewhere around Thursday, an intense feeling came to me. I felt like I did not want to be here any more. Not just living in this house, but in this city or even this World. Also, I did not want to be who I am now as far as my career choice. This past week, one of my clients has been acting out. He has been argumentative, deviant and rude at times. It has gotten steadily worse. One of my other clients got a job as well and she needed a job shadow, too. Well, I can not do it because of my first commitment. I hired some one to do this. The first day of her work, Friday, my new employee called in sick. I went to go pick-up my client at her job and she had called in sick, too. She did not call me to tell me she was sick. Just a little build up before my bad day Saturday. My son, Trevor was supposed to come over. I planed my whole day around it. His birthday is Tuesday and I will not be seeing him, so I wanted to do some birthday stuff. He called me at 11:30AM and informed me he was working. I asked when he know he was going to be working and he said a few days prior. I asked him why he did not call me sooner, but as per his usual, he did not have an answer. By this time, the anger had consumed me. Then, I missed 2 important phone calls. I wanted to change the oil in my car. The oil pan drain plug bolt is on so tight that I ended up striping it and do not get it off. This seems to happen to every car I have ever owned, or with the oil fliter. The dam repair shops and their damned air powered tools! Those oil pan drain blots should never be that tight! Read a book! I know this. I am used to it. It should not bother me, even on a bad day, but it did yesterday.

This morning I had a little carry-over from yesterday. I am not feeling angry, just lethargic. When I was lying in bed, I was thinking about my career. There is stuff I need to do and get going on with my business but I do not want to do any of it. I did not want to work with these people any more. I do not want to do anything. One of the spirits with me asked me what I would do then for work. I want to be a writer. This has been the story of my life. I have always wanted to be a professional musician or an artist, or writer now, but money and my life path has always gotten in the way. It seems like I am conflicted between what I want to do and my life path. Yes, of course, I can do both, but I have been just wishing to be elsewhere. Frankly, I am just sad and lonely. I have seen some amazing results with my new attitude and my visualizations. I am thinner, more muscular, and I think more handsome. I even have more hair on my 5-head now! I have never, ever before thought of my face as attractive! I look and feel vital and strong! My pants are fitting loose around my waist and tight around my thighs. My shirts are loose around my midsection and tight around my chest and arms. However, yesterday when I was angry, I caught a brief glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked fat and old and ugly. Everyone around me seems to more responsive to me in a positive manner. There are lots of women around me who say lots of nice things to me and make suggestions that they want to be with me. I feel better about myself and about life and that is saying a lot since I have hated myself and life and God for the past 5 years or so. Yet, with all of that, I am still alone. At the places I go with my clients, there are lots of women there who I could and want to be with and they like me, but nothing! I have been visualizing myself being with them, yet, nothing is happening. Honestly, I am not being patient enough. I allowed the negative stuff around me and my loneliness to get to me.

To me, this was very interesting how I looked in the mirror. Really, this is a testimony to how effective positive thinking can be and how the negativity can effect us.

dream, July 21st, 2003

2005-07-22T07:26:00.000-06:00

Last night, Thursday, July 21, I had an interesting dream. This dream told me about my self, gave me some insight to my learning and growth, and also provided some confirmation about how I am progressing. I will have to come up with a name for this type of self-actualizing dream. I am sure there is one out there already, I just have not heard it yet. Anyway, it stared with me moving into a new house. This house was very fancy and nice. All of the colors were very bright and happy. This house was much better in those respects than any other I have ever lived in before. Of course, a house is symbolic of a person’s state of mind. Somehow, I knew that this house was not very well built. It looked okay, but it was not very solid and was only for show. There was no deep substance to sustain it. In one of the rooms, a bedroom, I think, the floor had already begun to sag. I walked over to the place in the carpet where the floor had actually fallen. I stood in it and walked around the edge, making the weak spots fall and creating a nice hard edge. I could see that underneath was a bunch of old un-opened letters and bills. I knew immediately what this meant. It meant that this new fancy house was built on top of my old self. All of the old, negative, unhealthy parts of myself were just covered up with something new. That something new was just weak and superficial. There is a saying I know that comes to mind for this situation: a dressed-up turd is still a turd. A Biblical comparison is the foolish man building his house on the sand. Well, of course, this was my old self. I pulled a table over the hole in the floor and left the house with no intentions of returning. The next thing I know, I was at an auto repair shop. This was a very large garage. The symbolism here is very obvious: I went for repairs to fix myself. I was outside when I saw a woman walking by me. She looked older than she really was, consumed with anger. Her body was slowly being crushed, made smaller, by her constant bouts of angry. In a Gestalt point of view in analyzing dreams, that woman is me. Yes, I have been consumed with anger and resentment in the past, but no more. Does it bother me it was a woman? Certainly not!! Why? I have been told many times by psychological tests that I seem to have more stereotypical feminine characteristic than the average male. Simply, this is just who I am and besides, I think it is best this way. However, I did not have this realization about the woman being me until I woke up. Someone yelled over to me, “Watch out!! She’s a werewolf!!” But it was too late for me. She metamorphosis into a hairy, wolf like beast and attached me. Before I could even comprehend what had just happened, I was already dead, ripped to pieces. That was not enough for her, though. My soul went into the ground. As I was leaving the surface, or that dimension, and moved into the next, she began to follow me, intent on killing me again and again. She yelled out to me, “Your laughter is killing me.” Without a thought of why she would say that or what it truly meant, I began to laugh. I did not run away from her, but laughed as she approached me. She killed me again and again but I continued to laugh. Then, she lost her power and was no longer a werewolf, just a small, weak woman. Then, she perished and I was renewed. I went back to the original dimension as before, but I was different. Everything looked different to me, brighter and happier. Then, I woke. I knew the werewolf was me and that I destroyed my old self with being positive and with laughter. Just covering it over, just dressing that turd, was not enough. I had to destroy my old self first, to die and be reborn, because I was allowing that anger and resentment to kill me. The only way to stop it was with laughter and love. Please, my readers, do not take offense. In no way shape or form do I think women to be the only ones who harbor resentment or play the victim. Obviously, I am a male who has done so in the past. Yes, I know others. To be frank, I am not completely sure why it was woman in my dream. I am certainly open to any suggestions.

This dream is very good and I am very grateful for the message!

visualization and mind over matter.

2005-07-16T14:13:00.000-06:00

In the past 3 weeks or so, I have been visualizing myself being (among other things) bigger, more muscular, with a smaller stomach. This is part of my new self, the one who views himself as confident, strong, positive and successful. This new knowledge came to me after I had a very enlightening experience. I watched the movie, “What the Bleep Do We Know?” If you have not seen it, I strongly recommend that you do, soon. It will change your life! It did mine! From the movie, I learned to cut off my negative thoughts and actions and to not just place piles of positive over them but to remove them and replace the negative with positive. The other day, I was at the YMCA, lifting weights. I was resting between sets, looking at myself in the mirror. Before, I would not do so and would just look away. For me, looking at myself in the mirror has been tough. I have not liked myself and I had a difficult time feel good about myself, even on my best day. Our YMCA has lots of huge mirrors in the weight rooms. Yes, this is sometimes viewed as vain. When I am working out, especially by myself, I usually watch myself in the mirror to make sure my form is correct. Form is the most important part of weight lifting. It does no good to have very heavy weight if a person is not doing the exercise properly. In fact, it can actually be worse. On that day, I began to do as I would have before, turning away and/or something bad about myself. Quickly, I cut it off and began to tell myself, to visualizing my legs and calves getting bigger. To my surprise, they actually grew!! I watched them grow larger right before my eyes!!! It was like I was in a movie with some special effects! Anyway, it was pretty cool! Yes, it does in fact work! A comment was made in the movie about the importance of our mind over reality. We create our own realities. They suggested that it is not as important to our bodies what we put into it as it is more important what we put into our minds about our bodies. Mind over matter. I was not a believer before. I am now!

daydreams and superheros

2005-07-16T09:37:00.000-06:00

On Sunday, July 10th, I took my son to see “The Fantastic 4.” Yes, it a good movie and we both enjoyed it very much. I have not read any of their comic books, so I am not very familiar with the “real” story. Having the movie follow the comic books closley is not as important to me as it is for some people. I like that our modern technology can provide us with special effects that make the action and characters look “realistic.” However, I did use to watch the cartoon on Saturdays when I was a child. I do not remember exactly when, somewhere between ages 6 and 11, so back in the late 1960’s, early 1970’s. Back in those days, I watched a lot of TV. TV was my best, and sometimes my only, friend, since we moved so often. When a person watches superheroes movies or cartoons, or when they read the comic books, they often times like to choice a favorite. Perhaps the choice is strictly a material thing with liking their costume or maybe they just like fire (The Human Torch). Others though, like me, looked for a deeper purpose. My all time favorite is Spider-man. We seem to have many common characteristics. Back in the early 1990’s when the carton was popular (along with "X-Men"), I would watch as often a possible with my son. I would even tape it if I was going to miss it. Sometimes, I would be having a tough time trying to figure out some phase of my life and I would get clues or messages from Spider-man. When I was watching “The Fantastic 4” movie, I recalled those old memories of me watching the cartoons. I have always been a dreamer. I have spent countless hours daydreaming. Back in my elementary school years, it caused me some problems in school. On more than one occasion, I would get into big trouble with my school teachers for not doing my work or paying attention. One day, in 6th grade, my teacher got very angry at me. I was doing nothing, which apparently was the big problem. We were supposed to be doing our work, math or something, and I was day dreaming. I do not recall what specifically, but my teacher took offense. This lady was large, very tall and heavy. I was very small for my age, the last in line to have my picture taken every year of school. The teacher picked my desk up, with me in it, and carried it across the room. For the rest of the school year, which was well over half, I had to set next to her desk. I had a hard time back then understanding this. There was all kinds of bullies and kids eating and throwing stuff in class and causing safety issues. I was just being all by myself, not hurting anyone or bothering anyone, well, except for my teacher, I guess. I achieved very high grades in school, always, even that year. I had nearly all “A’s” in my school curriculum classes. Back then, we had separate sections to our grades and report cards. One was for conduct and the other academics. For that school year, 6th grade, in the academic section, I had all “A’s” and “B’s.” However, in the conduct section, she gave me all “F’s.” I never talked back, I never used foul language, I never hit any of the other kids or stole or cheated or lied. Obviously, I got my academic work done. So how is that daydreaming gets a person all “F’s” for conduct? That teacher held a conference with my parents on the last week of school and said she was holding me back to repeat 6th grade. Boy, I must have really made her mad. Fortunately, we moved to another town that summer and I did not have to repeat 6th grade. I never stopped daydreaming, though and continued to get high grades. When I watched any superhero TV shows or movies, I would dream about being a superhero and saving people and the World (still do). I wanted to be a superhero (still do). Even when it was a bad thing to be a superhero, like Spider-man who is misunderstood at times ( just like me, misunderstood at times), I wanted to be a superhero. Some people, like myself, when watching a superhero cartoon or movie with multiple characters (“X-men,” “The Fantastic 4“) will choose a favorite. With the “X-Men,” for me, it is Storm and Gambit. With “The Fantastic 4,” it was Mr. Fantastic. I always wanted to be Mr. Fantastic when I watched the cartoon. I thought his superpowers were the best of the 4. Also, I liked that he is very intelligent and a kind, decent person who’s main goal in life is to help others and make a positive difference in the World. Perhaps that old teacher of mine was not so angry with me, but herself. I wonder if she knew that I was daydreaming about saving life’s and helping others that she still would have held me back for 6th grade? I hope that she will still be alive and to be able to know and to see my great accomplishments.

In some ways, I am a superhero. I safe life’s and help those in need.

recent dreams

2005-07-11T12:48:00.000-06:00

My dreams have been interesting these past 4 or 5 days. They have been very busy. Two nights ago, I dreamt that someone hung my new puppy (a tan Pug) from my 6 foot cedar fence with a string. Their intent was to kill it, but I was able to rescue it. Although it was hurt and near death, it survived. There is a dating website tah offered personality "tests." One was to see what type of dog you are in accordance with your personality type. They told me I am a Pug. In a Gestalt way of analyzing it, that puppy was one of my inner strengths. New, just learning and developing, my new, better self. I had a “feeling” in my dream that it was the same evil people who tried to hex me before. I guess someone does not want me to grow and become that superhero. Then, the dream changed to me being on some nice sandy beach in some very warm and sunny place. I was in a big evaluated hut with several adolescents. They were some disadvantaged youths and I was working with them as a mentor. This was just like in my trip to New Mexico two years ago with the youth group I was volunteering for then. In my dream, we were very close to the ocean. The water was very blue and clear. The tide was a little brisk, but there were no huge waves. Very near the shore, in water that was very shallow, a small black whale swam by us. Then, more and more different types of whales came by until one of them was actually a large Bull Shark, just like the ones we have been hearing about in the news. The same kind that has been biting swimmers in the ocean at Florida. I told the youths to be careful and stay out of the water. Of course, 3 of them had to go in immediately, just because I said no. I had to use my superhero powers and place force felids around them so they would not get hurt. I reminded them about the dangers and two came back. However, one stayed out and actually stood on a black coral reef about 20 yards from the shore. Only his feet were in the water. He was pretending that he was having fun and doing something important, when in actuality, he was just rebelling and he was also very scared. Then, a Hammerhead Shark swam by between him and the shore. It was even larger that the Bull Shark, much larger, bigger than any of the whales. I began thinking about how I had heard that Hammerheads are one of the most aggressive sharks in the ocean. Another thought came to me to express my other thoughts verbally, yet, I held my words. The other youths began talking amongst themselves and commenting on how stupid he was acting. He heard them and decided that he would come back onto land. Once he got in the hut, an Orca swam up to us on the beach, instead of swimming by like the others. I think he was asking the youths to respect their home. A few months ago, I heard on TV that Orcas are considered to be part of the dolphin family. Orcas are very intelligent mammals. Then, in another dream, about 5 days ago, I dreamt about being dead. The dream started with a man and a woman who were working hard to find each other. They had to travel many miles. Along the way, they went through several relationships, each one was short, but gave them chances to learn and grow. Sounds a lot like me. At one point in my life, I was going through lots of learning about what I did not want. Then, I went through a period of finding parts of what it is I do want. In my dream, they finally found each other. They were very happy and content and full of peace and joy and harmony. They began talking and sharing their journeys with each other. I stood closer as others joined in the conversation. Then, suddenly, although not in an uncomfortable or frightening manner, I realized that they were dead. And so was I! It was not a horrible feeling, but a very comforting feeling. I felt as though all my worries and troubles were gone. I told one of the guys there, “Now I don’t have to take that math test.” He told me “Oh, you still have to learn.” The lady walked up to me and placed her hand on the back of my shoulder as we all began to walk outside. I told her “Well, I guess I will finally get that PHD that I was hoping to get.” An image came to my mind of my tombstone at my grave. Their was “Dr." in front of my name. She said, “You will get everything you have ever wanted.” We walked onto a beautiful garden patio that was very full of lush foliage and flowers and clear blue sky and I was very happy and content and peaceful and I woke up. That is me now! Death is metaphorical. It is symbolic of ending something before a new something can begin. For me, it is a message that I needed to stop being who I was before and to let go of all of my old self. My new self is much better. I am in a much better place now. I find it very interesting that there was lots of others there with me.

Arnold

2005-07-06T17:17:00.000-06:00

"I knew I was a winner back in the late sixties. I knew I was destined for great things. People will say that kind of thinking is totally immodest. I agree. Modesty is not a word that applies to me in any way - I hope it never will." Arnold Schwarzenegger

Being myself a weight-lighter, Arnold has always been an inspiration for me. Not just his perfect physical aspects, but his attitude about life. This quote of his explains it much of it.

I have known since I was very young that I was destine for great things. I have already done some. Someday soon, most people will know what I mean when I complete the other great things.

childern

2005-07-01T07:18:00.000-06:00

Got these in an e-mail. I think they are fun and clever, so, enjoy!!!

"A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small. The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible. The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah." The teacher asked, " What if Jonah went to hell?" The little girl replied, "Then you ask him."

"A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, "I'm drawing God." The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like." Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, "They will in a minute."

"A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds After explaining the commandment to "honor" thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?" Without missing a beat one little boy (the oldest of a family) answered, "Thou shall not kill."

"One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. She suddenly noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head. She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, "Why are some of your hairs white, Mom?" Her mother replied, "Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white." The little girl thought about this revelation for a while and then said, "Momma, how come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?"

"The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture. "Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, he's a doctor.' A small voice at the back of the room rang out,"And there's the teacher, she's dead. "

"A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said, "Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face.." "Yes," the class said. "Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn't run into my feet?" A little fellow shouted, "Cause your feet ain't empty."

"The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE. God is watching." Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies. A child had written a note, "Take all you want - God is watching the apples."

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What is the expression of the depth of one's culture if not art?What is the expression of the depth of one's being if not music?

Support the Local Music Scene. Date a Musician.
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my dream, June 28th, 2005

2005-06-30T07:52:00.000-06:00

Wednesday morning, I had an interesting dream. I was at my Grandmother’s house in Guernsey, Wyoming. Guernsey is a very small town, less than 1,500 people today and only 820 when I lived there with her. Grandma Mary’s house was very small, but my family would all gather there on weekends and holidays. She was/is my favorite Grandmother. She crossed over about 10 years ago. Whenever I dream about being at her house, it is nearly always a significant dream for me. When I dream about being at her house, there is usually an important message for me. So, I was inside the house, in the living room, and I had just completed a big task, an old phase of my life. (Grandma was not there and she is usual not in my dreams) I had already begun a new phase, the next level, so I was not stuck in a bardo anymore. That is important for me because I have felt like I have been in a bardo for over 6 years now. Also, I think it is important about the way I was dressed. I had my shirt off and I did not have my big stomach, I had tight ripped abs! My chest and shoulders and arms were very big and muscular. I felt great! I felt good about myself, the best I have ever felt, but I was not complacent. I knew I had more work to do, but I had already started it and had done some work on the next phase. So, I was about to continue with my work when a big grey Owl landed on the edge of the roof, on the gutter. The Owl was being very noisy and calling to me. So, I went outside, hoping to find a feather, a Gift from the Owl. After I got there, I discovered a curse bundle, a voodoo bundle of feathers that as tied together with string. It was meant to cause me harm and to cast an evil spell on me. Then, I found another bundle. It was small sticks tied together by a piece of leather. I found 2 more, 4 all together. I knew that I had been hexed and that what was keeping me down. Not completely, but it did hurt me and effect me in a very negative manner. After I picked the bundles up, I started to “feel” the energy in them to try and determine who put them there and why. Why was easy and the same old story: they hate me and blame me for all the wrong and in their life. Completely moronic, but that is their mentality. Well, my cousins pulled up in a car in the front of the house. I knew that one of them would take those bundles for me and she would destroy them, even though the power and magic was gone from them. I woke up before I found out who.

It sure is nice to know that I have confirmation on moving on and not being stuck anymore. It is great to feel so good about myself. In a Gestalt manner of analyzing my dream, those bundles were myself, they were a part of myself that was keeping me down and harming myself. That part is now gone. I “feel” that it was not entirely my doing, though. Whoever hexed me does not really matter. They will get their Karma.

Anyway, pretty cool!!!