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Showing posts from August, 2015

Uncle Mikey's Falling Out

I pick up my daughter from cosmetology school in the evenings throughout the week. Normally it's a simple matter of leaving my house in time to get to the school and sit in the parking lot long enough to play a few games of Words with Friends while the security guard wonders why his car isn't a cool Dragon Green color like mine.

Tonight, before heading to pick her up, I decided to dust of the treadmill and ease back in to exercising. I had removed all of the clothing from it the night before when I decided that I needed to stop living out of laundry baskets and actually put my clothes away like an adult.

So...I hit the treadmill for about 40 minutes. I walked for 40 minutes. 2 miles. And I felt like I was about to die. Clearly I was doing something right.

That being said, tonight on the way to pick Jen up I was really looking forward to some quiet reflection on how shitty it would have been to stroke out on the treadmill and if there was a 'you just died, lets change the s…

Wrong Turn At Albequerque

The day was kind of crazy. There was the adrenaline rush of hitting the deadline on a project despite the speedbumps that turned in to mountainous molehills. And then there was the one minor-major crisis that hits as I'm packing up to leave.

An hour later, I'm out the door. The prospect of cooking dinner for one (see what I did there?) seemed to be the wrong ending to the day.

A Dairy Queen burger and some cheese curds, however, seemed right on point. I hit the drive-thru. As I paid what seemed to be too light of a tab, the drive thru waitron mentioned that one of the other employees liked the color of my car (it IS hard to resist Dragon Green).  I asked about the cheese curds and was told that was NOT on my order. I was ready to wave it off when she shouted back to add it to my order while simultaneously reaching her hand out the window to collect the additional fee.   I paid and was told to park, they would bring my order out to me when all was ready.

I did as asked.

A picku…

Embracing the Insanity

I hate that I wrote the following lines on Facebook first. That they were not squirreled away in a journal somewhere awaiting just the right moment to emerge from the chrysalis. And yet, that is fully the case--so here goes.

IF someone tells you they are a writer--and they actually are, you must know one thing; they are crazy. And they know that they are crazy. To have the need to create entire worlds from nothingness through blood, sweat, and tears is nothing short of madness.  And yet I know no other way.

This was a text that I originally sent to a friend and fellow writer. It summed up to me the conversation we had recently had.

I followed with this line.

It's what we do. Dance with words. And hope that one day others will hear the tune.

And that's true. I don't write because I want to be published, or on the New York Times best seller, or have one of my novels turned in to a Hollywood mega-hit.

Oh sure, those things would be nice. But that's not why I write.

I write…