With Christmas upon us, I would like to wish everyone a happy holiday. Where ever you're going, whoever you spend it with, be happy, love and know that you are loved. If anyone isn't getting enough love, I'm dishing out extra helpings here.

Hugs and Kisses,

Neil

Sing it with me, people:


Christmas time is here
Happiness and cheer
Fun for all that children call
Their favorite time of the year

Snowflakes in the air
Carols everywhere
Olden times and ancient rhymes
Of love and dreams to share

Sleigh bells in the air
Beauty everywhere
Yuletide by the fireside
And joyful memories there

Christmas time is here
We'll be drawing near
Oh, that we could always see
Such spirit through the year
Oh, that we could always see
Such spirit through the year...
---------------

Happy Holidays. OXOX

Hey, would someone please send me some Holiday spirit? I'm just not finding it this year.

Thanks.

"True love is not finding the perfect person, it's learning to view the imperfect person perfectly.
When you look beyond the imperfections, you begin to see what makes people beautiful.
Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one so that when we finally meet the right person we will know how to be grateful for that gift of LOVE
Love is when you take away the feeling, the passion, and the romance in a relationship and find out you still care for that person."
----

I forget where I found this, but I like it.

Giving thanks for:

Meeting the most amazing woman I've ever known. She is everything I ever imagined I'd want in life. She helped me believe in the magical idea of the "soulmate".

The support of great friends. They've been there for me during my recent struggle with this dubious notion of the existence of a "soulmate".

Laughter. It really is the best medicine.

Alcohol. Sometimes it has useful moments, too. :)

Give thanks.

Love, Neil

"Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated."

~A. LaMartine

Yeah, it's done. Any hope I may have held onto is let go. I'm still trying to sort it out. I'm so tired of feeling this. I just can't shake the part of me that feels this profound remorse over losing something that could have been incredible; the kind of happiness that you look for with another person. A part of me mourns for what might have been. It had the possibility of being "the one". Now it seems we'll never know.
Hell, I didn't even know if the concept of "soulmate" even existed...until her. Meeting her made me believe. I don't know, maybe the deck was stacked against us. Distance, life situations, history, spirituality... Oh hell, I don't care. All those things don't matter compared to what I feel. I was ready to accept all of it. There's no one else like her. All of those things, similar or vastly different, combine to make her who I love. I believe she loves me, and I hope she believes I know that. She just doesn't love me in the same context.

I hope she believes my love for her is real, too. As real as I know it to be. I choose to love her. I would do anything for her. There is more truth here than I have ever known.

So, I keep trying to tell myself that if it were meant to be, it would be. But necessity breeds choice, and this choice was not mine to make. I need to live with it, learn to be happy, again. I will, I know, but I don't know how long it will take.
I find myself experiencing waves of sadness and loneliness, though less often now. I have lost 14 lbs. in the past couple months, which is, ironically, a good thing.
I look inward; I think; I analyze. I over analyze. I need to look with-in, but without losing sight of my general nature. I like being a happy person. I love to laugh. It's who I am meant to be. It's a defining characteristic; one I'd like to keep.

So bear with me (as if anyone is bothering to read this), commiserate with me, have a drink with me, dance with me, laugh with me, and live.

Look what I just read:

My Daily Gemini Forecast-

Quickie: Sometimes the choices are overwhelming. A long walk will help clear your mind.

Overview: No matter how deprived you think you are, take a step backward and really look at the situation. You'll realize you actually have it all. Now pull in that lower lip and say thank you to the universe.

Daily extended:

Intellectual communion drives you. Share your ideas with anyone who will listen -- it could lead to something unexpected and wonderful. Tonight is a time when minds meet, dance together and embrace, whether at a social event or in cyberspace. Spend time with friends or find someone online who has something in common with you. Join a club or group where you can share your experiences. People around you will be motivated by what you offer to the conversation.

Very interesting...

The past few weeks, I've not been myself. At least not my usual self. I'm the guy that smiles a lot, laughs a lot, and somehow manages to make others do the same. But I haven't really been that person in a while. I've been looking inward so much that I've forgotten about the person I like to be.
Who knows why things happen in life. We have so much control of some things, none over other things. Things just are. We just have to accept that which we cannot control and move on. I'm not saying there aren't things I can look at more closely about myself, and I will. But six weeks ago, I was still my jovial self. I miss that jovial, gregarious person I know I am. Any other behavior is contrary to my nature.

My friend Jessica says that things that happen to us, people we meet; each one serves a purpose in our life. there is a reason for each one. Maybe this one is meant to have me look inward right now. I'm doing that. And I'll keep doing it.

But at the same time, my friend Loretta, though offering her gracious support, also thinks I need the breathless laughter and adrenaline that only a roller-coaster can bring. And I whole-heartedly agree. There is such a freedom in that kind of laughter; one I haven't felt in a long time. And I want to be that person again.

I took the first step last night by watching a movie I've been told to see by virtually everyone I know: "Office Space". I certainly haven't laughed that much in weeks. I actually felt like my old self again.

It's not so much about finding yourself; it's just knowing who you want to be.

Amazing how life spins on the head of a pin. I don't think I'm the same person I was about 4 weeks ago. I wonder if I'll ever see that guy again?

Gemini & Cancer

"...Gemini is an Air Sign and Cancer is a Water Sign. If these two Signs can work together they can be a great team; after all, the best decisions are made by incorporating the emotions and the intellect. The trouble for these two lies in learning to cooperate. They come from such opposite points of view that at times it can seem as if they simply have nothing in common. Deep, emotional Cancer can also sometimes dampen Gemini's airy enthusiasm, and light, fast-paced Gemini can leave Cancer feeling ruffled, even tattered. Balance can be achieved if they learn to talk openly with one another.
Gemini is a Mutable Sign and Cancer is a Cardinal Signs. Gemini is flexible, willing to go with the flow and follow another's lead; Cancer is an initiator and likes to provide that lead. Gemini may try to lead by being brave, even confrontational; for it to run smoothly between these two, they both need to learn when to back down and let the other lead the way..."

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

I said earlier about how the stars and planets tell us more than you think. Well, there you have it.

Raise an eyebrow if you wish, but I just bought some research material on the subject. I also bought "The Artists Way". Time for a little more expanding.
My dad is a "I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul", sort of guy. He got me thinking that way, too. But in his youth, when deciding what he wanted to do with his life, he first chose to be a Methodist Minister. Then he changed his direction to become a surgeon. And so he did.
I always found that an interesting career change. They really are fairly different paths: from one of pure faith, to one of science.
Not to say that in Medicine there isn't a place for faith. I think there is. But so much of saving lives in Medicine is based on new technologies and the workings of science.
And so my upbringing was one of conflicting information. We went to church on occasion, obviously to introduce me to a belief in God. I admit, I was one of the kids that had trouble staying awake. I've always been kind of a night person, starting at around the age of ten or so. 9 AM in church isn't a kids first choice for a Sunday morning.
But science was a big thing in my life. I don't recall knowing many people that believed in Creationism, it was all about Evolution. That was what I was raised thinking about.
My mom has always been of the mind that we're worm food. Nothing more. Over the years, though I never became a very religious person, I always felt there was something else out there. I didn't know how to define it, and maybe it was just me wanting to believe there is something more. Aren't there enough things in the world that we can't explain with science, or at least only partially so?
Astrology is partially science, isn't it? The movement and position of stars and planets affect the forces and energy between them and earth, and that energy affects us, as living things on this planet. That makes sense to me. I guess I'm saying that I keep my mind open to possibilites. In many ways, "I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul", but there must be factors beyond our mortal reach. Or do I want to have my cake and eat it, too?
I'm looking into looking up. Every time I've checked, the planets have been pretty damn insightful. Certainly more than me. :)
-------

"It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul"

~William Ernest Henley


"My fate cannot be mastered; it can only be collaborated with and thereby, to some extent, directed. Nor am I the captain of my soul; I am only its noisiest passenger."

~Aldous Huxley

Thanks to my friend Kelly for talking to me. She's awesome. She makes me laugh and makes me make her laugh. What else is there? :)

Some days are like little relapses. I feel kinda sad today. Can't find forward motion. Just one of those bumps in the road, I guess. It'll pass.

But should it just pass? I can't just ignore feelings, nor beat them down into submission. They don't go away so easily. They are persistant.

As they say, nothing worth anything is easy.

And this one is priceless.

Sending positive thoughts to faraway places to those who need it. I've been good at this before, so there's no reason it won't work again.

Enough people with enough positive thinking; who knows what we can do?

Healing through Peace and Love. :)

-Me

Ok, stop whatever you'e doing and just go see "The Incredibles" right now. Go on. You'll be happy you did.

Ack. Another four years of George W. Bush. Who knows what mess he'll make next. Maybe it's time to move to Canada, or maybe overseas...yeah...

"We are an impossibility in an impossible universe." --Ray Bradbury

"We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out."

--Ray Bradbury

This man is a genius. If you ever get the chance to hear him speak, you should do it.

"The worst thing you can do for love is deny it; so when you find that special someone, don't let anyone to anything get in your way"

~Anonymous



"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out."

~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

~Byron

Halloween weekend.

I have a party to go to tomorrow so I'm sure there will be photos of the festivities. There will be many folks I haven't seen in a while, except poor Codos, who's in Chicago. We'll have to have fun in his behalf. And fun is always good. Always.

Have some yourselves, folks, and have a good scare, too. :)

The stars and the planets tell us more than some of you might think. Me included.

"The earth laughs in flowers." ~ E. E. Cummings

"You can explore the universe looking for somebody who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and you will not find that person anywhere."

~Anonymous


"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved-- loved for ourselves, or rather, in spite of ourselves."

~ Victor Hugo

"A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong, which is but saying... that he is wiser today than yesterday."

~ Jonathan Swift

Let me embrace these words, and plant them deep within me so that they might grow.

I look back on the week and I notice something. I haven't actually looked in the mirror. Well, I've looked, but I haven't really seen anything. Just some guy shaving, walking past, opening the cabinet above the sink...but I haven't actually SEEN him.
I've felt things that seemed to be necessary to him. I've even tried to label those things a "process". I've taken photos of him and only now do I actually see him.

He saddens and repulses me.

It can't be me. It's not who I am; not who I know I can be. I hate what I became this week. No true purpose was served. I don't know if it was some fucked-up, self-preservation mechanism for my heart, but it was distasteful.

I look inside myself now and I seek to know it's origin. I want to cut it out and release it so that I and those around me are free of it.

Neil

So much difference a day makes...
----

What a difference a day made
Twenty-four little hours
Brought the sun and the flowers
Where there used to be rain

My yesterday was blue, dear
Today I'm part of you, dear
My lonely nights are through, dear
Since you said you were mine

What a difference a day makes
There's a rainbow before me
Skies above can't be stormy
Since that moment of bliss, that thrilling kiss

It's heaven when you find romance on your menu
What a difference a day made
And the difference is you
-------

Still trying to get my footing...

I had a small revelation this evening: I absolutely love the the smell of grilled cheese sandwiches being made. It's a comfort zone smell. It fills me with an incredible sense of calm.

So, my friend Codos, who's link you'll find to the right, threw a party tonight with his roomate, another friend of mine, Alex. It was a good time and many friends of mine were there I needed to see. Nothing like free therapy. :) Good people; that's pretty priceless stuff in life in my book.

They get a big thanks from me.

Cheers,

Neil

My, what a draining week it's been.

I've never felt so much emotion in my entire life. I've been to some very dark places in these few days. I've seen what the mind can allow itself to do when not tempered with enough reason.

In the past two months I found myself in a state of immense bliss. I found love. A love unlike any I have previously known.
Exactly two months to the day of finding it, I thought I had lost it. And I became consumed by fear, anger, a profound sadness. So very profound. The idea of losing this love seemed too painful. But with some help, some very needed and precious words, and a little time, I think the worst is over.
There are still small crashing waves that threaten to pull me into the undercurrent, but the tide is lower now, and I'm a pretty good swimmer, nonetheless.

This love for her remains. Strong as ever. And she'll always be in my heart. I would like to think that down the road, there will still be a place for both of us together. There is so much of my future I want to share with her. But only she, and time, will tell for sure.
And though I am still sad, for now, I just smile knowing I am capable of a love like that, and that she is the reason for it.

Peace, Love, and Understanding.

Neil

Did my feelings cause it to happen?

Or did I feel a premonition of what was to happen?

Either way, my heart...

...aches.

Faith. Have faith.

That's what I tell myself.

Just love. Just love.

Without condition, with conviction.

Couple more from the vaults:



It was dark and damp,
like a jungle at dusk just after a rain.
I was running from something,
with fear as my guide.
It was hard to make any headway
with so much brush in the way.
Soon I came upon a thin patch
and before me was
a cave of stone, black as coal.
Big enough to drive a truck through,
it would have provided escape
except for the sleeping beasts
that line the floor like a pink, flesh carpet.
They are a cross between pigs
and newborn, hairless rodents,
but with teeth and claws to rend my flesh
if they were to be disturbed.
I have to run, but the only way is the cave,
a minefield of carnivorous consequence.
Desperation takes me in, terror complicates it.
I step gingerly over and around my sleeping fate,
desperately trying not to touch them
even when my legs are clearly too short.
My heart races and the sweat burns my eyes.
Only a few feet inside and one begins to stir,
then two, three and more- I feel the need to scream.
They are waking and know I'm there.........
:
:
:
:
:
:...and then I wake up.
-------------------

Popcorn and candy canes,
Fishnets and garters,
M & M's and gummi bears,
Ecstasy and booze,

Cup cakes and licorice,
Lacey panties, leather whips,
Bubble gum and pixie sticks,
Coffee cake and lust.

Jumbo's Girls and cinnamon swirls,
Dollar bills and all the frills,
And bowls of Hershey's Kisses.

Lipstick and lemonade,
Pheromones and taffy,
Yukon Jack, Cracker Jacks,
And the lights turned low.

Catholic skirts and lollipops,
Bare breasts and Red Hots,
Candied apples and perfume,
Ice Cream and shrooms.

High heels and lingerie,
Sweets for the sweet,
Halloween tricks for some,
But I'll take the treats.
-----------------------

It's getting dark in here.
How little light can we stand?
How long can we last in the absence of light?
Where will the line be drawn?
Am I going to find out?

I've turned out the lights.

Oh, my furrowed brow...

...full of shadow and doubt.

Why? La Belle et la Bete?

Some random things from the vault:


My fists are soiled with the blood of my subconscious.
----

Scent of stormier seas,
strange incense of Nature's spirit
confessing it's dark thoughts.
-----

Desire clouds truth
and love becomes lies.
This bloodshed is my will;
I murder in chortling contentment.
----

Sometimes I get a lump in my throat
but I don't know why.
I sit in the corner of my sofa,
look around my apartment
Iike a sad curio shop owner,
the room cluttered with things I don't need
or maybe that have been acquired
to appease some subconscious need,
filling some empty space I can't see.
I don't know what it all represents,
if it means anything at all.
The walls seem too close,
trapping me.
But it's not the material things that
have me scared.
It's the reason for acquiring those things and
the chains of limitations they put upon me.
My worry pains the muscles in my forehead.
There isn't enough liquidation
to make life any easier.
The room is swarming with my weakness,
my love of music betraying my ability to live with ease.
I know my vices.
It's a life preserver made of cement;
wouldn't matter how well I could swim.
Do my fears feed it?
It has to be connected somehow.
Denial, my wily nemesis,
how well you work your magic.
It churns the waters so
I can't get enough air.
What keeps me from healing myself?
Fear?
Procrastination?
How do I push that lump from my throat
without the flood of tears?
Perhaps there is no other way.

Sometimes I really feel like I've let something go. My creativity. Where is that edge? Ack. I hate to use that word, "edge". It's so over-used. Sigh. What have I done? Or more to the point, it's what I haven't done that causes my sudden anxiety. I've let a part of me slumber too long. Time to gather the troops. Time to start the mission.
There's something to work for now.

Hi there, folks! Long time no blog. I was away for a week on the east coast at a friend's wedding. I was in the wedding party, so I figured it would be in poor taste not to attend, not to mention that it would have set off the whole groomsmen/bridesmaid ratio. Brides hate it when that happens.
I was actually honored to be part of the whole shindig, and as it turned out the groomsmen got really cool gifts- a monogrammed flask. Not that I drink a whole lot of hard liquor, but it's one of those things a guy likes to have anyway. Hey, why are you laughing? You don't think I can hear you? Ok, fine, keep laughing.

Saw some old friends, hung out with my mom, soaked up some of the old east coast vibe. Trying to get a feel for it again, because you never know when you'll be back in it for the long haul. It's a culture shock, really; going from Southern California to east coast. It's very different and it takes a little getting used to. But I can live anywhere as long as there are good people to share it with. People. Yeah, that's the important thing. Or one person. One in particular. That can make all the difference. :)

So I'm back here in L.A. where nothing is as it seems yet everything seems crazy. Back at work, which sucks. But I'm back with some new inspirations which I hope to cultivate.

Life is a funny thing. So complicated, yet so simple. The road ahead is full of possibilites.

And on that note, I leave you with a link. If you haven't seen Don Hertzfeldts' animated shorts, you should go here immediately. Do not pass 'GO', do not collect $200, just go there now:

http://www.bitterfilms.com/index.html

Laugh, people. Laugh.

G! :)

Ok kids, this past Saturday night I went to the Hollywood Hellhouse. It's at the Steve Allen Theater at cfiwest on Hollywood Blvd. Got questions? Click the link and try to see the show. It's awesome. Halleluiah!

http://www.cfiwest.org/theater/hellhouse/index.htm

Inland Invasion

Yes, I went to the Inland Invasion show here in So. Cal. last Saturday. Lots of great 80's bands like X, Tears For Fears, Devo, Billy Idol, Siouxsie Sioux and some new bands like Muse and The Killers. All were great, but who knew Billy Idol would rock the house? Yeah, you read that right. Billy Idol was awesome. I admit it.

Ok, this is just a reminder that this coming Sunday, the 19th of September, is Talk Like A Pirate Day. That's right, you heard me. There's a link to the right you should check out. Or for you lazy clickers, go here: http://www.talklikeapirate.com/.

That will keep you well informed. So this Sunday, while we're all watching football, or watching your men watching football, make sure you talk like a pirate. Use all the pirate lingo you can. "Avast me hearties, storm's a-brewin' off the starboard bow!", "Aaarrr! What a bunch o' land-lubbers!", "You scurvy dogs! Get yer arses off the couch and do somethin' useful fer a change!" Things like that. All day. It's fun and it'll annoy your friends.

Be well, travel safe, and careful when you put your sword back in your scabbard.

Hello, bloogers and blog readers.

Tomorrow is Sunday and that means football. Eagles first Season game. Also the Browns first game. Gonna be a big day of guy stuff: football, beer and friends. Should be lots of cheering (we hope) and yelling.

I'm saddened by the server malfunction of buzznet. They assure us if we're patient our pics will be back up, no problem. It's been a week. I'm losing faith there. But I'll continue to keep my fingers crossed.

I'm at work right now. Stupid work. People should'nt have to do that. It's just a waste of time. There are more constructive things I could be doing. ...Is there some irony in me typing that on my blog, while at work, on a Saturday? Must be somewhere in there...

Life is a strange thing. You never know when it's gonna pull the wheel hard to the left and surprise the crap outta ya. Sometimes that's how new people enter our life. Just like that. :)

Cheers, all.

Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone!

Summer's last gasp. Time to say our final goodbyes to the sun, trips to the beach, camping, or those fun road trips. Well, except for those of us in Southern California. We do that stuff all year round. Hey, don't get mad at me! I'm not the one that made you move to a cold, snowy place. ;)

So everybody find a barbeque and have a drink with friends this weekend. It'll do us all some good.

Cheers,

Neil

Ok, I should've been in bed a couple hours ago, but I've been busy. My mind is whirling. Something...someone...I'm...
Ok, what are your thoughts on Fate? I used to be a fairly solid believer in "I am the master of my soul, I am the captain of my fate." But every so often, something happpens that makes me think that maybe, sometimes, there are three women in some mythical place carefully weaving threads that will decide the events of our lives. Some things are beyond coincidence. Are Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos busy at work? I wonder...

These thoughts brought to you by the letter Gee. ;)

Ok, the Eagles lost. I know, it's only pre-season, but it doesn't bode well for the actual season that starts week after next. Let's try to think happy thoughts.

Ok, it's Friday everybody. Time to think festive, or relaxing, which ever is your pleasure. I hope you all get the one you like, or a little of both, which to me is ideal.

Cheers!

And we approach the end of another week- only one more day. In a similar metaphor, we approach the end of the summer. Labor Day weekend is the weekend after this one. This means a couple things: I will again miss an opportunity to attend Burning Man. I've been wanting to go for years, but working at a University pretty much kills that plan because this is the busiest time of the year for us. I just keep thinking, "One of these years...".
Also, with the coming of the Autumn is the arrival of Football. I know, I capitalized it. Somehow it seems like a formal name. Certainly not in reference to the way guys act while watching it, but more of how guys talk about it, with such reverential enthusiasm. I just like to go and support my team and have fun with friends. I am, however, fairly excited about this season. As a matter of fact, I'm about to leave work and go to the Hollywood Billiards to watch a pre-season Eagles game. This has GOT to be their year.
I dont' know what it is about football that makes me plan my schedule around it but there you have it. I dont' knwo if any guy coudl tell you but if he can, I could use the insight. And then tell some women, too. It might help them to understand us men(monkeys) a little bit more. :)

Ok, game time! Go Birds!

IT'S FRIDAY!! Gotta find a Happy Hour! Woo hoo!

OK, my friend Mike just sent me this link: http://www.angryalien.com/0804/jawsbunnies.asp . Just go there and laugh. Watch all of the bunny animations because they're all funny. I think I like the Jaws one and the Titanic one best, though.

Well, I had a sucky weekend. I was sick with some gastro-intestinal invader. Not good. I had tickets to go see The Damned at the House of Blues Friday night and I couldn't go. I love lighting $25 on fire. It's FUN! Money is for losers, anyway.
So Saturday night I started feeling a bit more human, but stayed in 'til Sunday morning when I decided to go to the Hollywood Farmer's Market. I'd been hearing about this thing for quite some time but hadn't gone yet. I'm not really a morning person. But since I did so much sleeping this weekend, I was up early Sunday, so I figured it was a good time. I needed some fruit anyway.
It's like a little slice of Venice Beach, but more Hollywood. Those who aren't familiar, Venice Beach is more hippie, Hollywood is more...I don't know; old school rocker/eccentric/downright crazy types. I was kinda out of it; it was hot and I had only eaten two bowls of soup in almost three days, so my brain wasn't moving at top speed. There were a few things to take pictures of but I somehow forgot to use my cam phone. Oh well.
There was this tall, dark -haired woman who was clearly a hooker just standing in the middle of the Market. So bizarre, so Hollywood. Next to her were two guys working for the DNC, yes, the Democratic National Commitee. They were, of course, trolling for dollars. gotta love their hook phrase, "Want to help get Bush out of office?" Well, yeah, who doesn't? Then they get ya with the 'gimme money' routine. I told the guy I already gave and he still pressured me for more. Fucker. I told him I'd go home to get my credit card and be right back. I lied. Instead I walked around and bought some grapes, some really tasty pears, and some peppers, and a cantaloupe. That's some good eatin'.
So then I went home and found I was pretty tired. So I chilled on the couch for a while. Yeah, how exciting. It was a low-key day of recuperation. Now I'm back at work. Sweet.
The only small ray of light is that it seems I got a promotion that I was waiting to hear about. So there's more money to look forward to. That's always a good thing.
So, back into the swing of things, folks. But the students are arriving en masse this week, so be prepared for me to be misanthropic for a while.

Cheers.

Ok, I'm grumpy today and I have a stomach ache. I don't know why. And it isn't a good way to feel with a three day weekend upon me. Damn it all. Ack.

Here it is, another hump day. It's finally after five and I can relax ...until tomorrow. Our student worker had a melt-down today. He had to go for a walk. Apparently he was found in the back cubicle with the shakes. The constant parade of people got to him; the non-stop customer service rattled him to the point of breakdown.
He was asked to leave for a while; get his head together.
Shit, man, if that's the kind of jelly-spined behiavior we have to look forward to, then for God's sake, don't come back. You need psychological stamina as well as physical stamina to stay alive in this office this time of year. If you can't take the fuckin' heat, get out of the kitchen, man!
Poor bastard han't seen anything yet, either. If he thinks this is busy, wait until August 23rd rolls around; he' s in for a brutal fuckin' eye opener. His fragile psyche is gonna snap like the bones of a football-playing kid with severe brittle bone disease. Good luck, chump.

So, my last three-day weekend is this weekend. Then it's back to the regular five-day. Where the hell did the summer go? Never enough time.

I really want to see this new movie by Zach Braff, "Garden State". It looks right up my alley. Like "Napoleon Dynamite", it's a small independent with quirky humor. But this one has the ever-so-lovely Natalie Portman. Yeah, she's barely 20 years old, but great googly-moogly, she's devastatingly gorgeous. All the right genes working for her, that's for sure.

Ok, that's enough for today, I guess. Talk to ya'll soon. Out.

Salutations, bloggers! Strange and random bits of info at the moment. Today, I met two women that have my favorite names. I discovered that one lovely lady that I know from the 'net is named Samantha. One of my favorite names ever. I also met a lovely young booze-shilling gal at a bar by the name of Alexis, another of my favorite names. I can't tell you how fascinating this is to me, as I've never met a woman with either name in my life thus far.
Strangely, they are both beautiful. Go figure.

I'm pretty intoxicated. Drunk? Maybe. So I may say things that are of dubious origin. Just call me Boozy-D.

Damn. Musta been that kamikaze.

Some Random Thoughts

Happy Wednesday. Actually, there's nothing happy about it. Things are getting busy and I'm not particularly ready for it. I need another week or two of quiet. And of course, the stupid people have already arrived in full force; people for which my patience is already exceedingly short. And how many bonehead phone calls can you possibly get? Apparently that number has no cap.

Holy crap. It's only two o'clock?! That blows. This nit-wit parade turns the clock into molasses.

I've been discombobulated lately. Staying up late- later than usual. My weekends have been spent being up all night, watching the sun come up, then either grabbing some sleep or going out for breakfast and then napping throught the afternoon. I don't know what's up. It's really screwing up my mid-week, though. Need to get more sleep during the week. I'm like a train wreck.

"But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo/What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here."
- Yeah, feeling that way lately. Maybe has something to do with my weird schedule of late. I seem to be going when everyone else is coming. There's a ribald pun in there, but I'm sure you can find it.

I'm a big fan of http://www.dictionary.com. Words are neat.

Well, this has been a weird weekend. Only because I haven't been able to get myself to sleep at a decent hour. Actually, I haven't been to be this weekend before the sun came up- much like right now. Good thing I have today off work.
I don't know what's up. Something won't let me go to sleep. I think I'll just stay up today; no sense in sleeping now. I don't want to sleep all day and then not go to bed until three or four in the AM tomorrow. So maybe I'll go grocery shopping or something. Mmm, breakfast. That's what I should do. Maybe go to Swingers. They make a good breakfast. Haven't been there in forever.

You know, I've noticed there are a lot of assholes with computers. Ok, that's no big revelation, but it's amazing how many people have so little to occupy themselves in life that they have to spend it insulting people, spreading hatred all over the place. So many small minds with no lives to speak of. It's annoying, but ultimately, these folks only have my pity.
It's a terrible waste of protoplasm. Think of all the endangered species we could save, or all the extinct species we could bring back if we could exchange all these ignorant people spreading their hate and small mindedness.
The world would surely be a better place.

Well, another late night. I had some pics to downlaod so here I am. Just had a night at Jumbo's Clown Room. Hadn't been there for a while, so it was time. I always have fun there, it truely is the happiest place on earth. :)
Jumbo's is technically in the 'strip club' catagory, but it's really just a little neighborhood Hollywood bar with a stage on the right side. There's no cover (yet) and they have a great jukebox for the girls to use. My friend Grant Langston wrote a great song about the Clown Room. His link is on the right side of this blog. He sings, "The girls ain't pretty, but you have a real nice time." Well, that's kind of the running joke about Jumbo's, and it may have been somewhat true some years ago, but I don't think so anymore. There are quite a few lovely women there now. Look for Lynn, Pris, Mecca, Gypsy, Ava, J.J., Velvet Rose, Faith, and Erica, just off the top of my head.
Now, I don't mean to diminish any of the other dancers abilities or loveliness, but there is one girl there that has, without question, monopolized my attention. Her name is Lola, and I know I'm not the only one that feels the way I do about her. She is likely the most popular dancer at Jumbo's and if you see her, you'll know why without any doubt.
She is the epitome of everything a dancer of this type should be. No, she's not the blonde, blue-eyed, slinky pole kitten you expect in L.A.'s strip clubs. Lola is this hip-shakin', tattoo-covered, Betty Page-like, dark-haired spitfire that is cute to the power of ten, and ten times as sexy. I actually believe she is the hottest woman I have ever seen. There are a lot of beautiful women in the world, no doubt, but being in the presence of Lola is like nothing else on earth for me. I really can't say enough good things about her.
It's entirely possible that my infatuation is standing on the precipice of obsession, but not in the creepy stalker sort of way. I don't think I have what it takes to be a full-fledged stalker. It takes a lot of time and resources to do that sort of thing, and quite frankly, I can't afford to take that much tme off work to follow her around. I need my paycheck, meager as it is, and who can afford those high-powered binoculars and monster telephoto lenses for their camera? Not me. For now, it's enough to see her every so often at Jumbo's Clown Room for a few hours of bliss. The unobtainable is always at the top of our wish list.
Oh, look. The sun is coming up. Time for sleep.

It's cold.
The dark wouldn't be so bad if I could see what's crawling over my feet.
Then again, maybe not.
Such a small place, hard to move.
The sides are rocky, but covered in a slippery moistness.
There's no grip.
Constant drip, drip, drip, on my head and shoulders.
How long?
How long since I was in the sliver of light so far above?
I remember...things.
There were others. Voices. I had a voice, too.
Didn't I?
Didn't I talk, and laugh, at one time?
I seem to remember there was laughter once.
Hard to imagine there was reason for it.
How did I get here? When did my freedom abandon me?
Did I do something wrong, something to put me here?
Something trickles - or skitters - down my back.
Hard to breathe, my knees drawn up so close.
I'd weep, but I've nothing left to feel.
As cold inside as I am out.
...
I open my eyes; sleep comes and goes without definition.
No watch to follow, the crack above barely a night light.
I dreamt the earth shook.
A mighty quake that brought down the darkness around me
and buried me in it's cold, heavy prison.
I could still feel the rumblings around me...
yet...my eyes were open; I could feel it.
The walls wrapping me in their dank grip
trembling, trying to keep their hold upon me.
I heard a distant thunder.
Soon it was a great roaring, the stone about me shaking violently.
Had I dreamt my relief into being?
My suffering to end with a quick and crushing death?
It was all I could do to find a tear to shed.
The sliver of light above closed,
the cold slick walls folded above and began crushing me.
A sudden jolt upward, a deafening crack,
and I felt myself fall back.
Suddenly I was pushed to the side and down.
Everything around me fell away; I was surrounded by black rock
and shifting shafts of brightness.
I tumbled over, over, dark shapes and light shifting,
changing patterns as I fell.
Just as I felt like floating, I stopped hard.
Air forced from me, lungs grasped for breath.
I curled into a ball, covered my head.
Behind my eyes was red, rocks showering about me.
The rumbling died down, I opened my eyes.
Brightness stabbed at them as I squinted.
Only a pale grey of sky, ground darker and brown.
I must be dead. Could this be the afterlife?
Smell of dirt tickles my nose.
I feel it's softness in my fingers.
Isn't that a breeze upon my skin?
Isolated armies of pain attack me as I stand.
Could I be ...alive?
Knees crack in objection; I don't listen.
I squint to the horizon...I can see a horizon!
I reach for the grey above, the endless distance around me...
I might well be in heaven after all.
I turn, look at what was once my prison.
Only a gaping chasm, a pile of rubble, remains.
Not caring how or why, I spin around and begin walking.
Slowly at first, then faster, denying the stiffness, the pain.
Soon I am running,
memory returning laughter to my throat
like a thousand voices that were never lost.

Says all I really need it to say. If I remember where I found this, I'll let you all know. 

It is a hard-fought battle in a war waged against ignorance and stupidity.  I work at a major university in California and I have to say that I never realized the magnitude of the ignorance problem in this country.  I've been here a number of years now, and each year a new group of people cause my jaw to hang slack in amazement at the lack of common sense synapses firing in the minds of the great majority of people. 

Oh, I would understand if it were just the 17/18 years old freshmen.  College is a new thing and here they are being thrown out on their own.  Even when it's their choice, I get that it can be a little overwhelming.  I was there, too.  I remember.  But then I talk with the parents.  How did they get so frickin' stupid?  So few of them read the paperwork they get in the mail.  Everything you need to know is in print for them, and it's sent to the address they give the university, and yet, they don't read anything!  And then when they miss a deadline or don't do something they're supposed to do, they complain that they didn't know - no one told them!  Boo hoo!    Read your fuckin' mail, morons! 

Whew!  Sorry.  This job has really made me misanthropic.  I'm really quite jovial and gregarious by nature, I swear.  I think people are just getting dumber and lazier.  They just want to put he responsibility elsewhere.

And to think, it's still summer.  Middle of August rolls around and I'm gonna be eyes deep in people that have the intellectual acumen of a box of dirt.  Oy.

I was looking for a photoblog, and Buzznet seemed to be the logical choice.  Seems to be the popular one, too.  I'll look into Flickr again down the road.  They seemed to have some nice features, but it's seems to still be in the beta stage.  Time will tell.
For now, it's Buzznet, and more pics will be forthcoming.  Until I get a digital camera or a new scanner, you will probably see a fair amount of awful camera phone pics.  Not great quality, but the spontaneity is fun.

That girl; she has a way with words.  Sometimes I really wonder why I write at all.  Could I have anything of useful to say?  Is it all just for me?  Yeah, I suppose it is, in the end.  Anything creative is in many ways just self-gratification.  I suppose if anyone else gets something from it, only then does it serve a more relevant purpose.  It's up to the reader/viewer to determine its' value.
But here we are in a time where technology can make anyone a writer.  How many blogs are there?  I'm sure I wouldn't care to try and count them.  So many people with so much to say.  You never know where you're going to find words that mean something to you.  Yep, that girl has a way with words.

A new name, a new address.  I think it's appropriate.  Or shall I say, 'apt'.  ;)

The Sunset/Vine structure. Again taken with the cell phone camera, hence the grainy quality. Yes, that's a Border's Books & Music at the bottom. This is looking North/Northwest on Vine at Sunset- take a right and go a few blocks and I'm home. 

Ok, this pic thing is getting out of hand.  It's time for me to pick a photoblog to add to this site.  I just haven't decided which one yet.  Real soon.
Well, JURY DUTY has been a good thing for me.  I called tonight and I don't have to go in tomorrow either, so...I have completed my first obligation of jury duty!  Glad I could be of service.  I'm such a giver.  So my bookie tells me, anyway.

Today is my friend Rob Kurtz's birthday.  Three cheers!  He's a hell of  a guy.

Went to see a movie tonight.  Don't ask questions, just go see "Napoleon Dynamite".  Ok, if you're gonna ask questions, go here:  http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/napoleondynamite/.  But I'm tellin' ya, it's SO funny.  It's always the little indie films that give integrity to the film industry. 

Talk to ya later.

Hey, look! A post during normal waking hours. How novel! I'm awful sleepy. Why must I love the night so? Why must it beckon me like a two dollar whore to a sailor? I suppose the real question is, why do I come when it calls? Ah, the great unanswered mysteries of the Universe. Like, why do donuts have holes? Why can't the blue-footed booby land with a modicum of grace?

"The blue-footed booby got its name from the spanish word bobo, which means stupid fellow. Its lack of fear and clumsiness on land has made the species vulnerable to man."
 

Do a little dance! 
 
Ask a question, get an answer.  How's that for random trivia? If you've ever seen footage of these birds trying to land, it's really funny. Now where was I? Oh yeah, unanswered questions. Where are my pants? Ah, never mind. Found 'em.
So, obviously, I didn't have to go to Jury Duty again today. We'll see about tomorrow.
 
OK, folks, it's getting pretty far into the summer and that means we are rapidly approaching September. I know, I hate to think it, too, but there it is looming at us in the distance. However, the arrival of September brings with it...Talk Like A Pirate Day! That's right, September 19th is the day. Everyone should talk like a pirate all day because it's fun! Learn about it here: http://www.talklikeapirate.com/. I just wanted to remind everyone or give the 'heads up' to those unaware. This way, you can all practice your pirate talk early. Get audio tapes if you need to or rent some good ol' swashbuckling movies. "Pirates of the Caribbean" or "Bluebeard" aren't bad choices. "Aarrr! It's fun and yer mates'll think yer daft!"

OK, I'm off. Cheers.

Another late night.  So what else is new?  I was working today with the IT department at work to make some extra money because, hey, I like extra money.  And 12 hours (of installing new computers) will get me a good chunk.  I need it.  However, I didn't get home until 1:30 am.  This is bad only because I had to call to see if I had to go in tomorrow for the dreaded... JURY DUTY! 
This is the first time I've ever had to do it.  The idea of having to go in for that on my day off obviously leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  It just fuckin' blows.  And normally, with my luck, I figured I'd have to go in on the first day, so I wasn't looking forward to a mere five hours of sleep and then sitting in a hot, stinky room in a drab government building with a bunch of strangers looking miserable or acting crazy enough to try and get out of their obligation. 
But, to my surprise, the Gods somehow saw fit to bestow upon me some good fortune.  I get to sleep in tomorrow and spend the day as I please.  Huzzah!  Happy happy, joy joy!   So tomorrow I'll go to my friend Chris Mancini's place and watch the rough cut of the short film we worked on last month.   Looking forward to seeing it.  I felt good about the work I did on it.  It had been a while since I'd done any Art Directing and I wasn't sure if I was up to it, but much like riding a bicycle, it all came back and I did some fine work.  Yeah, that's right.  I'm patting myself on the back.  Whaddaya gonna do about it?  Heh.  Yeah, that's what I thought. 
Ok, so I suppose I'm off to bed.  I need some Morpheus time.  Tonight, may he fill our REM with pleasant dreams.  

I just took this pic the other night. Yes, with the phone again. It's Amoeba Hollywood, otherwise known as my Mecca, my Utopia, my largest investment property. ;) So much music, so little time. 

Well, since I've been so prolific here lately, I figured there's no reason to slow down now. This is a picture of the Jersey shore; Wildwood to be exact. I was visiting a few weeks ago and recently got a new cell phone with a camera and, well, you can guess the rest. 

It's a pattern I just can't break.  I come home from a friends' place; a fellow blogger, Codos- http://blowedupgood.blogspot.com/,  it's late and I'm tired, but here I am anyway, sitting in the glow of my 'puter screen, typing away.  But earlier I saw something that disturbed me. 
As I sometimes do, I turned on the telly when I got home.  I was flipping channels again, when I landed on one of those Time/Life CD series.  This one is called "Legends", and it's all classic rock from the 70's, i.e. Led Zeppelin, Bad Company, Boston, The Who, etc.  Speaking of which, who do I see hawking this version of an overdone collection?  ROGER DALTRY.  Yep, that's right.  The singer of The Who!
What the hell is that about?!  Is he so broke that he needs to do infomercials?  What- I mean how- I was just dumb-founded.  At the great expanse of the 'Sell-out' table, we need to put another chair for Daltry?!  I mean, c'mon, doing half a dozen 'Farewell Tours' is one thing, but to shill a CD collection so unneeded?  Well, I just felt dirty for him.  It just seems so wrong.
 

Ok, somebody must've put something in my drink.
 
That last entry is like a dream.  I was so delirious from lack of sleep.  Burning that candle at both ends this week working on stuff for that play.  Then went out for a couple beers without any dinner.  Gee, amazing I didn't see that crash coming. 

A little buzzed, extremely tired, and quite frankly, only a mere 20 bucks in my pocket.  This is a sad moment, indeed.  Sad words are easy; it's the happy ones that are hard to find.
And yet....Ooooo, new fonts.  New sizes!  Color!  Bold color!  The possibilites are many.
It's the little things that can make a mood.  Tomorrow is Friday.  I'm sure there's a deity to thank somewhere, I'm just too sleepy to do it right now.
 
Say goodnight Gracy.

I'm a member of an online poetry forum called Liquid Poetry. Sometimes we are given challenges to write things as an exercise. Recently we were given this painting and told to write whatever it inspired. Here is what I wrote: 

She knew the sun had come up only by the hour on the clock.
The blanket of grey merely turned a lighter shade as
daylight wrestled it's way into being.
She hardly needed the clock- she couldn't sleep
without his warmth telling her the future was secure.
She stared out the window into a wintery day,
everything a dirty white, grey or beige.
Hard to believe the house would never again
possess anything but this silence.
She knew outside would offer no more than branches creaking in quiet
accusation.
A tear burning a hot path down her face, she went downstairs.
A cup of coffee drunk apathetically, left half consumed on the counter,
the only trace of activity.
She put on her coat, picked up her umbrella in the front hall,
paused to look at a photo of the man
with whom she shared this home.
Turning and opening the door with one motion,
she left, cold air frosting damp cheeks.
The neighborhood as empty as her life now felt,
she walked alone through the wide paths,
cold, wet whiteness crunching beneath her feet.
Umbrella blocking an unfriendly wind,
no one watched her from their windows,
no one to help bear the slightest amount of grief.
She couldn't go on much longer;
the camel's back broke log ago,
leaving it to lay helpless and dying as vultures
plucked at its' hope,
rendering it spiritless.
She continued on toward the cemetery
to say goodbye for the last time,
her dark figure shrinking in the distance,
swallowed up by the vast, cold nothingness of snow.
------------

Ok, now that I have the pic thing figured out, I thought I'd post a few more poems to catch up.
--------------
Night Of The Burrows

Lying in the middle of a desert road,
or on the hood of the car, feeling comfortably numb,
knowing we'll never convince anyone
we followed burrows in the dark,
we were content with our adventure.
No, they didn't talk, but that doesn't mean
they didn't speak to us.
Full of mystery and humor,
they appeared everywhere, like a portent with a punch line.
Eyes glowing in my headlights like fiery orbs,
appearing in the dark like the Headless Horseman's steed,
but the miniature, circus-style versions.
So much terror-laced comedy, I wondered when the clowns would appear.
No delusion or hallucination could offer such apocalyptic amusement
as a small desert neighborhood overrun with donkeys.
It was as if the inhabitants of the homes had been changed by some curse.
Nonetheless, there was nothing to do but laugh.
No one else saw them; no one else would believe us, anyway.
I smile when I think of them.
You can think we're crazy. You can think we're delusional.
But you can't take our burrows.
They belong to us.

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

Where I'd Rather Be...

I look up at the round face of time on the wall
as it mocks me with it's pace of cold molasses.
Rust encroaches my brain and stiffens my joints.
I figure it's now or never, so my mind makes a break
for the fair skies beyond this cubicle.
A day like this is meant for the sand and surf,
I'd even take a chance on the Bermuda Triangle
over that florescent buzzing prison.
It's warm and breezy as I approach the docks.
I choose a comfortable boat for my psyche,
set sail in the warm sun.
With nowhere particular to go, I let the wind set my course
into the great expanse of blue.
Gleefully, the vessel of my conjuring has a stocked galley.
I grab a six-pack, inflate the dingy and tie it to the bow.
Laying in it, one foot in the water,
the sun encourages me to have a cold beer.
This is where I'll spend my Friday;
at least until 5 o'clock.

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

Regarding Spring

Lying face skyward on the grass
I pray for clouds for my imagination to mold
into anything at all,
but it's an empty slate of blue
clear of everything but sunshine.

A glass half-empty day,
my forecast was lingering showers
as far as the mind's eye could see.
But then, like an umbrella in the downpour,
she appeared.

Blue, flower print sun-dress fluttered,
shading me from the sun,
showing me her long, dark curly hair,
her bright face smiling down upon me
like the sun hadn't been shaded at all.

Arms swaying back and forth
like a breezy little girl,
She asked if she could join me,
her voice like birds singing the song of Spring.
Without an answer, she did, and introduced herself
before we talked well into the afternoon.

And the sun remained in the sky;
I forgot about clouds altogether,
changing my forecast of rain indefinitely.

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

I was back in Philly for a friend's wedding a couple weeks ago and I saw something I haven't seen in years: storm clouds! I really miss thunderstorms living in L.A..  

Here is a picture of me when I was five. Sure, it's big, but it's a nice jacket and I knew I'd grow into it eventually. 

Ok, clearly I've gotten the hang of the use of images here. So maybe we'll see some more on occasion. Some are sure to embarrass, both me and the viewer, with any luck, so check back before too long.

If I were a South Park character...this is disturbingly accurate. 

Ok, I have to come clean. I am a child of the 70's TV generation. And I admit to still watching TV. It's in my blood. Ok, it's not the worst thing(or is it...?), but one has to admit, TV just ain't what it used to be. One more reality TV show about some kids finding a woman to marry their dad for love or money during the amazing race with big brother and I'm going to be in a clocktower with a rifle.
But I actually try to fill in the gaps with educational TV- like PBS. I saw a really cool show about the Revolutionary War tonight. Also, it turns out that I have three, yes, three, Public Television Stations. (Ok, I don't have cable. You can laugh all you like, but if I did I know all I'd do is sit in front of the Magic Friend Box, so I stick to the regular channels to limit my viewing time).
So, I flip over to channel 50 here in L.A., and there's this cute little redhead and an older man in a chef's hat in a kitchen. I figure, 'great, another cooking show', but as I sit there I notice this woman isn't talking about food, she's talking about some joke she heard somewhere. The man is preparing something on a cutting board and the woman is stirring whatever is in the pan. And for the next 30 minutes, that's all she does, other than talk gossip and make fun of the chef. Turns out he makes fun of her, too. And hardly anything is said about the food they're preparing except when she asks what they're making.
In a nutshell, she seems to be a Hollywood socialite that's never actually never stood by a stove before and the older guy just seems to really enjoy cooking but knows she can't really help so he makes her stir. And they yuck it up with each other because they're best friends. I was perplexed, and yet strangely entertained. Like I was watching a car wreck involving clowns.
They are John Crean and Barbara Venezia and the show is At Home On The Range. Apparently it's now only syndicated on local public TV in Newport Beach. But they made, like 228 episodes! It's crazy. I recommend watching it if only to prove it exists. But I'm laying odds you'll laugh. Really, just check it out. Here's the website: At Home On The Range.
I guess that qualifies as a link of the week/month/or whatever length of time it takes me to post again.
So there you have it. I like some weird TV. Well, I just like weird.

Greetings, bloggers! I've revamped this thing and it's much more presentable. I'm thinking of doing the image hosting as well, but in time. I need to get more pics together. This blog thing is tough to keep up with, as I don't always have time to sit down and update it.
Haven't written too much in a while. I worked on a short film written and directed by a friend of mine. That was in early June. It's called "Rainbow's End" from Myopic Productions.
After that I went to Philadelphia for a friends' wedding and to visit me mum. Philadelphia is so hot and muggy in the summer, I feel like a wet towel there so I try to stay away from that weather. As they say, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity."
Now I'm dressing up a theater lobby for a play directed by the same friend that directed "Rainbow's End". That will be done this Thursday. Then I'm taking a break. I have some other things I want to do for myself.
Hey, another friend of mine has a fine blog here. Go check it out: Cellar Door. Tell him Neil sent ya.

Well, here it is, another birthday come and gone. I don't feel 39, that's for sure. Yet, here I stand on the precipace of 40, looking into the great chasm of all that means. What does it mean? Maybe nothing. I think it's all relative. I'm a firm believer in "you're only as old as you feel", and I feel like a big, dumb kid. So there you have it; no progress at all in the 'growing up' department. Hell, I still love all that rock music the kids are listening to. And I haven't gotten even slightly senile yet. Now where are my pants...?

Well, it's finally happened. Hell is now on Earth. It is so bloody hot today/tonight that it is downright uncomfortable. Way too hot. Too hot to compose any kind of prose at all. I just can't drink enough water.
Oh, went to Jumbo's last Friday night for Lola's birthday. Oh, I'll get around to discussing Jumbo's before too long. It's just too hot right now. I gotta go. Ugh.

Be well, travel safe and for cryin' out loud, find some shade.

Neil

Howdy folks! Vegas was chock full of debaucherous fun, as always. Ther was booze, women, gambling, and barbeque ribs. Everything a red-blooded American man could ask for.
I eagerly await the arrival of May, as that will mean easier work flow for me including a four-day work week. Sweet. Also a trip to Philly for a friend's wedding.
Hope eveyone is well.

Be well, travel safe, and have a drink on me.

Neil

Hi ho, kids! It's March in Los Angeles and it's way too friggin' hot. There was no Spring, just went from 60- something degrees and some rain to 88 degrees and 'too-hot-to-sleep-at-night'. I hate that. I like just a little transition between seasons, even if it's only a couple days. But here we are, hot as Hades.
I won't bore you with poetry today. With a trip to Vegas on the horizon, there will be plenty of debauchery to discuss upon my return. Two bachelor parties and aout 20 guys? I dare not imagine what blasphamies will be wrought. We can only hope.

Be well, travel safe, and lock up your daughters.

Hi all. Welcome to a another installment at Blog Central. I'm tired. I'm not sleeping quite right. I get home from work, fall asleep on the couch and wake up at two in the morning and then I'm up the rest of the night. Then I"m tried all day and the same thing happens again. A vicious cycle. It's a pain in my ass. When I go to Vegas in a month it'll be perfect, but until then, I gotta fight through it.
Well, let's do some more poetry, or as I like to call it, random mental discharges. Oh, and the copyright thing still applies, you know.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Strange Flight


In the place between sleep and waking
I find myself weightless, 100 feet above the ground.
As is strangely normal in this context,
I am floating in forward motion above
a familiar neighborhood of my past.

I pass houses on my left, feel the wind in my hair,
as I recount family names of those in residence below.
A hundred yards or more of green lawns and light grey driveways
pass under my levitation and I smile with recognition
as I see the house I lived in on the corner across the street.

Down the hill I glide, skimming trees along the way.
I begin to feel gravity as it slowly pulls me toward the ground.
The surroundings are now only vaguely familiar as I now pass
through trees rather than over them.
But I cross the familiar street as I drift ever closer to it's surface.

All too aware of my altitude, I approach a pond that was once a creek
and it tries to lick at my feet.
Ankles bent up, I raise my toes as the water salivates below.
My concentration proves ineffectual as ripples mark my progress,
and my toes get wet anyway.

But I kept aloft just enough to keep my ankles dry,
skimming the surface like a low skipping stone.
A u-turn to the left at waters edge and I'm off again with new speed.
Off the water and up, my will obeyed, but where familiar woods
once stood is a building in its' stead reflected upon the pond.

All glass, stone and steel, I reach for its' heights, and am rewarded.
The air is clean, the breeze cool, my flight natural as breathing.
Through a tinted window I pass, both of us unscathed.
Along the dark halls I drift, passing strangers in featureless rooms,
until I come to one I know.

She smiles with her whole face,
her dark eyes brightening the hall as well as my soul.
Her embrace warms me, anchors my desire,
but cannot weigh down my heart as it soars again,
taking flight out the window and into the fair blue above.
---------------------------------------------

Church Of Boardner's


Midnight at Boardners.
I think about leaving as the holiday crowd
makes a racket I can no longer bear.
The smell of fried pub food somehow
makes it's way out here to the patio
so I go inside and make my way to the door.

But as I pass the corner of the bar
my eye is drawn to a man sitting there.
He seemed to be of few assets,
his hair is long and his beard is longer.
He sits among the noise as a drip of perspiration
falls from the bottle in his hand.
A light above the bar is angled so he is more
illuminated than those around him.
It gives him a warm glow and I expect to see
a precious halo above his head.

I stopped to watch him as I wondered if
this somewhat somber man might be of
Heavenly ilk.
But in a Hollywood bar wearing a bad polyester shirt,
drinking a Bud, is hardly how one might expect to
see the creator of the Universe, right?

I walk out into the cool night,
walk up to Hollywood Blvd. and take a right.
At Vine St. a local character wearing a priest collar and cape
yells at passersby to 'follow the Lord'.
I don't have the heart to tell him that tonight,
God drinks alone.
-------------------------------------------------

A Little More Color


So unearthly a vision,
she glides into the room so smoothly,
like Morticia on a camera dolly.
I knew I would love her;
she would be my Mina Harker.

Skin so white, translucent in fact,
that her veins I could easily find
behind her hair, tousled serpents of black,
to her shoulders intertwined.
“A little more color”, I thought,
“would bring out her eyes, so icy blue.”
Ah, those eyes, saying much more than words would ever construe.

Her lips, two black leeches,
lying side by side, barely parted,
pressed against mine, would they leave me broken-hearted?
Were they the color of a valentine,
I would make those lips mine.

A little more color then, I implore.
Yes, a little more color upon her
porcelain face,
I thought would be best for such
a delicate place.
But recognition of me, there was not a trace.
To her I may as well have lived in outer space.

How to win her love, have her all to myself?
Such was the question with which I wrestled;
I, and of course my demons within,
so comfortably nestled.
It came to mind so suddenly, in a snap;
nothing too complicated, no better mouse trap.

Just wait until dark, follow her close,
strike a blow to the head, let her heart
do the rest,
as it pumps a rich, red palette into her
head’s raven nest.
Streaks of wet crimson, so warm and fresh,
just what was needed for her wintry flesh.

It was clear to see;
a little more color, some warmth of hue,
gave her the life she was so sorely due.
A perfect visage for all Eternity;
I kiss her lips, now of warm ruby.

We’ll be together forever,
And I love her truly.
----------------------------------------------------

Hometown


I get off the plane in my birthplace
but it doesn't feel like it used to.
Familiar faces pick me up at an airport
that changes shape every time I visit.

In High School
it was a small town that rallied
around it's football team
every Friday night without fail.

Students gathered at the McDonald's
like a soda shop full of bobby-soxers.
An '81 Chevy Citation made you popular,
even just for the ride home.

Town Square complete with big, white gazebo,
was filled each summer with cotton candy
and ring tosses, a Ferris wheel,
and shouts of "Guess your weight for a dollar!"

Now it's shopping centers and fast food joints by the dozen.
I hear nary a word of High School football
in a town whose youth choose nights at the mall
over a summer carnival.

What was once quaint, full of familiarity,
is now a bland, midwest town that I don't recognize,
yet know I've seen a million times before
in a million other places.

Overweight moms and their little, overweight banshees
have replaced me and my high school friends.
People gather in groups of faux upper class elite
in a town where there isn't really anyone to impress.

A decrepit-looking man in the town square
shuffles along in dirty clothes, using unneeded crutches.
The smoke he puffs above a neck brace ages him beyond his years.
I sigh in resignation; he's the last straw.

Hometown is no longer where my heart is;
I'm eager to travel the 3000 miles to where I hang my hat.
------------------------------------------------------

A Day At The Beach


It's a rain cocktail on a grey beach
and not a bikini as far as the eye can see.
A lone surfer paddles into a breaker fifty yards away
without acknowledging my presence.
In my diluted rum-banana daiquiri, a cherry floats
wishing she would show to tie it's stem with her tongue;
a talent she once was so fond of showing off.
Gone are the silly days we'd spend here in the sun,
laughing for hours that passed too fast, digging moats
for our castles in the sand.
I guess she'd grown up with the coming of autumn.
My calls went unreturned but
I thought she'd meet me at least one last time.
Now I sit alone on this towel wishing I'd brought an umbrella
as water pelts my shoulders and head like wet bullets.
In a land of perpetual summer,
a day in Mailbu never seemed so long.
--------------------------------------

Haiku Valentine


Champagne and candy,
or roses by the dozen,
are just mere tokens.

But I wrap my heart
in a bow of promises;
a more worthy gift.

Or even more sweet,
a candy box of my love
wrapped in forever.
---------------------------------------------

Well, it's another day in the daily grind. Hump Day, Wednesday, middle of the week. Get through today and the rest of theweek should be easy. Got a three-day weekend ahead of us for President's Day. Sweet. Otherwise, not a great deal to report. Let's just get to the weekend. So, while we're just coasting to Friday, here's some more poetry for you to read. Won't that be fun?
--------------------------------------------------

So Many bad Apples


Not every day is a good day.
Dealing with people's dark sides
leaves no room for my benevolence.

Humanity's ignorance on display,
these are parents of tomorrow's future,
a future that looks rude and self-centered.

Abdomen full of writhing snakes
pushing bile from my throat like venom,
I spit misanthropy in a wide arc.

With assumptions and condescension
and more money than brains,
they are certainly not peddling respect.

Oh, if I only had a hammer
for all those bad apples,
I'd have a fortune in apple sauce.

But at the end of the week
I glue together the twig
that is my snapped brain
with a drink or two and friends
who remind me that not everyone on earth
should be ingredients for the book "To Serve Man".
----------------------------------

So Many Wishes


A desert night almost as far
from the sun as California can be.
My breath visible in the post midnight air.
I drive north to be closer to the heavens.
Traffic winds slowly upward, a giant, glowing red snake
seeking higher ground.
I find a place to pull off, breaking the daisy chain of cars
looking for a better point of vantage.
Standing in the chill air I didn't think I'd be warm enough,
but soon I wouldn't notice temperature.
Above me, I see the powder of the Milky Way
dusting the night sky.
Nothing else at first, but then - there!
A light, like a flare, but with a tail...like the trail of a roman candle.
Then another, and another - Oooo! Aaaaah! Ooohhh!
It's the Fourth of July in November.
Then it gets good.
The sky opens up a cauldron of molten steel,
sparks spilling over the side onto the earth.
It's ablaze in a fiery rain, trails of white-hot magic
shine and sparkle behind their bright leader, then slowly fade away,
another in its' place before the last is gone.
Never before have I seen the heavens give forth their spoils so generously.
It's as if the Gods were having a clearance sale on wishes, 'Everything must go!'
There's enough for everyone this time.
Stunned and spellbound, I imagine how it must look in the atmosphere,
then I'm suddenly aware of both my insignificance
and my potential importance in the universe.
I am nothing, yet, such a phenomenal display is created
by mere particles hitting earths atmosphere,
so small, so magnificent.
I am awed, I am hopeful, I am alive.
----------------------------------------------------------------

I breathe cool, damp air.
Near crashing surf I await
Your warm salty kiss.
---------------------------------------------------

Sun sets in orange sky,
waves crash below our table
almost touching feet.

Drinks and DJ spin
chill grooves mate with summer surf
soothing savage week.

Seagulls drift in place
friends point to passing dolphins
here at Moonshadows.
--------------------------------------------------


- Sunshine staves off encroaching darkness
handing out summer's golden butterfly dreams.


- Moon doppelgangers the sun in a mirror
dancing a Degas ballet in glass.


- Love,
a deep pool of water,
changes parched seasons into
soft, rhythmic, swaying green fields.


- My questions echoing thoughts of suffering,
the quiescent everyday facade concealing caustic despair.
Desire for existence is dwindling.


- Time goads loneliness to lamentation,
my purpose riven
into love and fleshly desire
by implacable fear.


- Fierce sharpness of your delicious mouth
splashes my desire.
Hot rivulets splattering dark red
tattooing my dreams.


- I found the sea in your laughing eyes.
To resist their luring
is beyond my will.


- Share your laugh,
the joyous song of desire,
a chant rising as endless flame
on twilights wing.


- Love's recognition a question.
Always waiting,
I am a postcard in the lost and found.


- Light fog kisses her face.
It's faint lips touch, unassuming
as the soft breath of my love.


- Your hands trespass gently upon my helpless will,
touching, soothing, my exposed love.
----------------------------------------------------------

Red Cart


A bright summer morn at ten o'clock
is already warm with out-of-school sunshine.
Down the concrete slope
of the manufactured L.A. river,
sits a red shopping cart,
two inches of run-off soaking its motionless wheels.
Empty, it sits in the heat without purpose,
like a discarded Radio Flyer,
no children willing to retrieve it for joyrides through parking lots or
through the shallow water in which it resides.
Even the business for which it was built will never miss it.
It merely waits for a rush of flood water
that will never come,
to wash it away from sight.
--------------------------------------------------------

Scent of stormier seas,
strange incense of Nature's spirit
confessing it's dark thoughts.
------------------------------------------------------

Wind whispers forgotten tunes over empty moors,
crying shadowy dirges
through creaking fences.
-----------------------------------------------------

Elevator interlude


A vision in peach silk and string sandals
consumes me in an elevator.
It's not quite a dress, not quite a neglige',
but she wears it like second skin.
Like a symbiotic being coexisting with her lithe form,
it reacts and compliments each movement she makes.
Her hair a brunette frame for a delicate, sun-tanned face,
with deep pools of brown that warm me without noticing me.

I only remember there are others in here
when she turns around to speak to someone I hadn't noticed,
as if none of us are real until she acknowledges us.
The door opens and they walk out together,
peach silk waving farewell to an invisible me.
------------------------------------------

Ok, here are some things to get you started. Keep in mind these are all copyrighted, so they're mine mine mine. :)
------------

Pavlov Would Be Proud


Places to go, things to do,
scurrying through a winless race,
The alarm clock, the traffic: my stimulus.
I know the drill; pay the attendant, park the car.
I wait at the curb to cross the street,
not using the crosswalk is my defiance to routine.

I wait for the red light and turn to find I don't wait alone.
Another subject seeming to salivate for the promise of a paycheck,
yet he seems pre-occupied, impatient, rather than lulled by the day-in, day-out.
"Late for something?", I ask, knowing I'll get no reply.
Craning his neck past me, he looks to the left, eyes sharp and intense.
Then looks right, checking for traffic, as if it's something he's been trained to do.

First foot raises making him look like a pointer,
Steps into the street- no wait, one more car- then across he goes.
He trots to the median; I follow, sure he'll not pause there-
but no, he waits, again checking left and right for obstruction.
Satisfied with the lack of cars, he crosses the remaining distance to the opposite curb.
I bask in my fascination, my day disrupted in a most unique way.

For a stray dog living on the street, there is more purpose in his step than my own.
--------------------------------------------

Groove Creation


Create me.
With your synth-organic rhythms
and beats from the heart,
make the body electronic.

Sustain me.
Keep the pace,
pumping the force of life
like a peacemaker in my chest.

Enlighten me.
Loops of cascading beats
synthesizing blood music
circulate through the passages of my soul,

Filling every corner
of what I am:
Organic matter in symbiosis
with undulating cadence.
-----------------------------------------------

Winters Off Lenape Road


Sun feigns heat
in a clear slate of blue above;
I gaze upon pale, brown hills and fields
through the smoke of my breath
wishing it would at least snow.

There was talk of cow-tipping
when I was in fifth grade,
but cows would've broken their necks.
Ground covered in frozen grass
is no comfort for fallen cows at 15 Fahrenheit.

Our small lake
transformed into a debating ground for skaters and hockey players,
each vying for control over the weekend's
primary source of entertainment.
(The dreadful alternative: afternoons shopping with parents.)

When it finally snowed, a wonderland was made,
a knee-high, get-out-of-school-free card.
We charted expeditions in corn fields, wooded creeks
and stone-colored barns that were beguiling in the white
of Chadds Ford pastures like untended English castles.

Woods like a Pollack of burnt sienna and white,
their only sound is weight of snow bearing down on limb.
Beyond those whispers, just a roaring silence
when I'm still as ice fingers
trying to touch the ground from the roof.

The cats of Baldwin's Book Barn nap easily within,
as we dig for a pearl amongst makeshift shelves
full of hard-bound reads for snow-bound youth.
These felines, grown, need not the words,
but the pages themselves for fine beds.

A blue-white glow from outside casts a cold light,
illuminating prints of Helga and Christina's World,
a reminder to all who live down the road.
On such a winter day, I didn't care to remember
that soon there would be Spring kittens in the books,
and a lake full of children's swimsuits.
-------------------------------------

-Cosms

I let the sky be my tent tonight,
a sparkle-filled indigo field
like a Star Trek transporter.
I swirl the stars with my mind
as my body says, "Energize!".

My destination: points of light,
any one of which could be a hive
of beings living, working, playing
in a mirror of the musings originating
from the sleeping bag in which I lay.

Rolling over to feed my notebook,
a firefly insists on sharing my pen.
Among his friends gathered about my flashlight
is a dragonfly twisting and turning its head
in a display of 360 degree impossibility.

"Do it again!", say my wide eyes,
then I'm shushed by a distant Canis howl.
The trees carry its magic to me like
a powerful totem, making me wary,
reaffirming our instinctual similarities.

Relaxing, I smile goodnight to its echo,
shoo the Insecta from their little electric campfire,
and turn my face again to the Universe
while whispers from a nearby stream
provide a soundtrack to twinkling above.

Gentle air pulls its blanket over me,
while scent of earth and pine
send me dreaming of cosmic fireflies,
blinking their lullaby in rhythm
to the ecosystem powered by my heart.
------------------

Hey all. I finally bought a car. I got a 2001 Acura Integra and it's real spiffy. I'm quite pleased. Yay, me.
I've decided to use this space for something relativley useful. I started writing about 2 years ago, so I'm going to start posting some poetry that I've written as well as some other writings. But first I have to get this posting problem figured out. We'll see.
Talk soon,

Neil

Home Page for Neil Weakley