Can you Digg it?

Threading a movie projector. Easy.

Losing 50 lbs. before my best bud’s wedding. Piece of Cake.

Laying off 75 people on Christmas Eve. No problem.

Walking out the front door this morning…It practically made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to go, but knew it would be completely foolhardy to stay. I tried to maintain my composure even though I had already broken down the night before. I can still see her standing there wearing the jersey I intentionally left behind as we mouth “I love you” through the rental car window as it passes by on it’s way to the airport. I can only hold the tears back for short periods of time before emotion overwhelms me and the floodgates break with staggering force. I hide behind a pair of sunglasses to mask my instability as the pain seemingly grows and grows the further away from her I get. During the layover I call a friend who is supposed to pick me up when I land, and a combination of his consoling words and a couple large pilsners of beer at the airport bar seem to temporarily quell the emotional typhoon that this day has become.

I knew it would be hard when I had to return home, but I NEVER could’ve prepared myself for how gut-wrenchingly painful it truly turned out to be. I feel physically, emotionally and spiritually drained. My thoughts immediately turn to her for solace, but that’s what has caused this chaotic rollercoaster to become derailed in the first place. She has become both the curse and the cure and yet I am still dreadfully, hopefully and eternally in love with her. For as much pain as I feel right now, I wouldn’t trade away ANY of it.

Well I’ve finally taking up writing once again, but now I’m trying to get back into reading!  the only problem is that I don’t even know WHERE to begin.  I have a few boxes FULL of books, most of which I’ve read multiple times. Most of it consists of trendy authors (Crichton, Harris, Rice, Brown) and a bunch of classic literature I thought I would get around to reading at some point, but never have.  Being that I’m kinda getting back into things I don’t think I wanna read something as complex as some of the classics can be.

So does anyone have any suggestions?  Authors they’ve enjoyed or a specific book they’ve read over & over again?  My tastes run wide so I’d be willing to consider a wide variety of genres.

Basically I’m just trying to expand myself since nothing else really seems to be panning out for me, and at this point, ANYTHING that can distract me from my harsh reality would be a welcome change of pace compared to constantly monitoring TV channels.  I’m seriously so burnt out on TV, I have the last 3 weeks of FlashForward recorded and can’t bring myself to watch them…and I LOVED the pilot!

They happen all the time whether we take note of them or not. Big or small, good or bad, meaningful or inconsequential, enduring or fleeting…they are always happening.  Once in a while, however, we may actually have the clarity and insight to be able to recognize and pinpoint one of these moments AS IT IS HAPPENING and know that is is of the “life-altering” variety.    I recently experienced just such an event.  What actually happened isn’t of any great importance (to anyone other than myself, of course) and would likely bee seen as mediocre, timid or bland at best by most, but I felt it  necessary not just to inwardly digest and reflect on this self-revelation but rather express it publicly…or at least as publicly as an obscure blog can be.

Quite honestly I have no idea where I was taking this blog…or should I say where I was letting this blog take me.  If you were to ask me a year ago if I would ever “blog” I probably would’ve laughed heartily and mocked the term “blog,” choking on the word as I uttered it.  I have always felt more of an intimate connection holding a pen as opposed to typing on a keyboard.  Even now I struggle to find the words and let my fingers hen-peck them across this cold, unfeeling device of spring-loaded plastic.  It was actually at the suggestion of another that I embrace this techno-trend if for no other reason than to connect to the creative soul inside me…a side I let lay dormant for far too long, I fear.

There’s a box in my closet, as I’m sure there is is many closets worldwide, filled with pictures and awards and momentos chronicling years past.  Well neither I nor my family were really fond of taking photographs, and my skills never netted me a whole lot of awards other than honorary certificates or participation ribbons, but the one thing my box is full of is paper.  Sheets upon sheets of paper. Back in the third grade, I wrote a ten page story for some sort of extra credit.  Throughout high school, I was on the school paper and saved copues of every rough AND final draft as well as every issue in which one of my pieces was published.  Even in college, I had this black spiral-bound notebook which contained a short story that I was and still am quite fond of…but it never got completed.  That was over a decade ago.  As much as I would like to complete it, I fear I never wil nor have the ability to do so.  The tone would be quite different, and markedly so as I am no longer the same person who began that tale.  Instead, I begin a new tale…a tale that begins with a suggestion & a moment…

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