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Dog food. Cat food. Dryer sheets. Yep, all done with shopping for the week. I had a waffle and Crown Royal for dinner last night. I think tonight I'll skip the waffle. Time to make a drink and go to bed.

"One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night." - Kahlil Gibran It's a beautiful day outside. I am looking forward to being in it. My office is quite dreary. pee ess. This blog SPAM is ridiculous. It makes me want to quit posting here all together.

"O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever." - Psalms 107
You know what 600 miles a week or so of driving does to you other than pave a pathway for future IBS? It ties muscles in knots. My back and shoulders are like lumpy cement and I seriously need a spa day. I left Houston on Friday afternoon in a fit of spontaneity with hopes of finding some new perspective in seeing my Corpus Christi area friends and family again. My last trip brought back so many old memories and feelings that were comforting and hope-giving imho. I tried to call my mother at home as I left Houston to let her know I was incoming, but she had taken my grandmother to the doctor. I was a little concerned when I couldn't reach her until after I passed Victoria (about half way through the trip)... then the news came. My dear grandmother at 81 years of age was in the midst of being diagnosed with breast cancer. It was not anything I would expect to hear, but then again, not much can shock me now-a-days. With strengthened resolve about leaving Houston on a moments notice just because it felt like the right thing to do, I pressed on to my southern homeland. I prayed about it. I spent a lot of time with Beth, my mother and grandmother, and a little bit of time with Rob and my sister. Nana is in good spirits and I think they caught it early enough that chances of treatment are good. I am still (obviously) deeply concerned, but I'm not going to get too worried until after I find out the results of the surgery. When I arrived home last night, the Penny and Bianca were out of food. I left them enough for a week and was gone 2 days. My traveling is not helping their diet in the least. I was tired of driving and tired in general, but had trouble falling asleep. I had a some emotional moments readjusting to being home alone with so many memories around me, but they are all good. I wonder if I will ever be normal again. The suddenness of change far exceeds course life adjustment. Like an Olympic runner losing a leg in an accident, you instantly are faced with life as you know it being forever changed. You still live... laugh, love, experience... but you have to see the world with new eyes. It's not easy. My faith will carry me.

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever." - Psalms 23

Sometimes I just wish it wasn't so difficult.

Team Hoyt.

"l(a" - e.e. cummings l(a le af fa ll s) one l iness

"Here's to women's kisses, and to whiskey, amber clear; Not as sweet as a woman's kiss, but a darn sight more sincere!" No sweet dreams. No dreams at all. I was pretty far gone when I fell asleep on the couch. I'm certain that was primarily responsible for my lack of rest. Did you ever see the Fantastic 4 movie? When Henry curls up in the snuggle ball, he "goes supernova". It's like sleeping with a glowing ember. So, I found some gorgeous limes in the fridge that I forgot were there... I think my mother brought them to me when she was up week or so ago. They were screaming gin and tonic. It also gave me an excuse to try the Diet Schweppes I'd purchased a while back and never opened. Yes, I said diet. I have a low tolerance for sugar. So after a few stiff drinks, Ted showed up for Mexican food. We went back to the new place with already honored faction due to their fabulous cuisine. The plan was to test drive their margaritas. A big 'ole boat of guac and a few sampler platters later, they were instantly upgraded to exalted faction. The top shelf margaritas were extremely tasty. We stopped for some deep tumblers of whiskey on the way back to the house. I checked my email this morning and discovered just a smidgypoo less than 1000 individual SPAM comments on my blog from some German talking about furniture. At the time, they were still incoming, so my database was unresponsive to even delete them... sucks. I managed to get a mass delete in once I got to the office, so if you commented on anything in the last 12 hours, your comment was probably deleted before I could approve it. I'm sorry. When things like this happen, it really makes me want to convert to another blogging platform. My long time e-friend Lisa (who I'm convinced is the most fantastic woman in all of the UK) suggested pMachine. It has a human verification tool in the comment system... you know, where you look at the jumbled letters and numbers in an image and have to type them in... and that would be nifty. I am just not in a place in my life right now where I want to hassle with another side project. I've really been struggling... more so internally than before. I still cry often, but almost always alone. I'm sad all the time and constantly just don't feel right. Broken.

kisses

Drunk and softened. Liquor stores are empty and I'm ready for affection. He's my man, but who's man am I? I'm hoping to find some answers in sweet dreams tonight... before I wake up alone again tomorrow.

snuggles

It's 5 o'clock. My liver is throbbing and the wet bar is trembling. Time to get busy.

lack of sleep hardens the features and softens the constitution

I slept! Physically, I feel better. I ate plain tortillas for dinner last night (again). I took some pain killers for my neck and shoulders... which have been in knots. Stress or not being able to relax... whatever. I drank... a lot. Maybe it was chemically induced or just a result of a nice evening, but I slept. I watched "Path to Nuclear Fission: The Story of Lise Meitner and Otto Hahn" last night on PBS. It was the story of the two scientist, also life-long friends, who in 1938 found that the uranium atom splits when bombarded by neutrons. Their work facilitated the development of nuclear weapons. Hahn was a chemist and Meitner was a nuclear physicist. Really the story centered on Meitner's struggle with being a female scientist in the early 1900's and the challenges and dangers she faced as a natural born Jew during the era of World War I in Germany. She worked for many years without pay and even when she finally received a salary, it was a mere fraction of what Hahn, her scientific equal, earned as a man. During Hitler's rise to power, she was afforded some protection under her Austrian passport, but once he took control, she had to flee Germany illegally to survive. Hahn continued to correspond with her for guidance, interpretation, and opinion on his research. She was largely responsible for the discovery that earned Hahn alone a Nobel Prize in 1944, yet she was not credited in any fashion. This could be due to Hahn's fear of political repercussions and persecution, but even after Hitler was defeated and the threat was invalid, he stayed his course. Despite all this, she remained his dear friend until the end and they both died the same year. They were both 89 years of age. The truth was really gleaned from diaries and memoirs pieced together after their deaths. With all the photos of them together clearly showing a deep connection, healthy respect, and happy friendship, they were never romantically involved despite working so closely together for the better part of their entire lives. Who would have thought nuclear physics could be so romantic and sad? I'm a geek about stuff like that...

"Angel Song"
i float with angels on your feathery light,
never fearing the cold, dark night,
but when your light is far away,
your love sustains me through each day...
and when your light embraces me again,
the angels sing songs of God and man.

i find heaven on Earth once more.

I saw the clock... 2:30... 4:00... light outside around 6:something. My eyes burned as I let Henry and Éclair out to potty. My muscles ached as I bent down to scoop some food for the little furry people. The day has been a blur. I can't tell if it has been due to being extremely busy or because I can't register what is going on due to the haze enveloping my brain.

from the way-back machine revisited - Halifax, Nova Scotia

I was thinking this morning - out of the blue - about a poem I used to perform at a since-closed poetry joint down near the Montrose. "Seekin' the Cause" by Miguel Piñero. I remember the first time I saw it performed, I was enamored with the rhythm of the delivery. The message is dark, but strong... powerful. It took me a couple of days to memorize and weeks to get the delivery down. I used to write a lot of poetry. I feel I've lost that part of myself sometimes. Here is some skinny from his wiki: "Miguel Piñero (December 19, 1946 – June 18, 1988) was a Puerto Rican playwright, actor, and co-founder of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. Piñero was born in Gurabo, Puerto Rico, and when he was four, immigrated with his parents to New York. Before Piñero had reached his 20 birthday, he was a drug addict with a long criminal record. In 1972, when Piñero was 25 years old, he was incarcerated in Sing Sing prison for second-degree armed robbery. While serving time in prison, he wrote the play Short Eyes as part of the inmates playwriting workshop. The play is a drama based on his experiences in prison and portrays life, love and death among prison inmates. In 1974, the play was presented at Riverside Church in Manhattan. Theater impresario Joseph Papp saw the play and was so impressed that he moved the production to Broadway. The play was nominated for six Tony Awards. Once out of prison, Piñero continued to write and he also landed some small film roles. In the 1970s, Piñero co-founded the Nuyorican ("New York-Puerto Rican") Poets Cafe with a group of artists, one of which, Miguel Algarín, would become one of his best friends. The Cafe is a place for performance of poetry about the experience of being a Puerto Rican in New York. Piñero died on June 16, 1988 in New York City from cirrhosis and his ashes were scattered across the Lower East Side of Manhattan." Influenced by "Seekin' the Cause", I penned this one night in a similar style, but with fewer pause and more continuity... to be read in a pattern of emphasis without significant (read: noticeable) stop. Imagine crossing beat poetry with playing a didgeridoo. Cyclical.

"Miguel"
through eyes that swell and tear and leak emotion like that moment that slipped through your fingers and is watched in your minds eye at night like a bad rerun of another life in another place that takes shape and forms a step shy of grace is the moment when I exhale thick smoke that sticks to my cheek and mixes with trails of my pain and my joy to form a layer of grime like a crime I should be committing to find peace for a moment and remember those that should not be forgotten and it is these fragile times of my life when pain and pleasure share in each other the void that is created by the loss of self through eyes that swell and tear and leak emotion

from the way-back machine revisited - Manhattan, NY

I have an old Philippine cigar box I got from my grandfather years ago that is brimming with old 35mm negatives. Most of them are crap, but there may be nuggets of my past in there worth remembering. I have years of life on the ocean in cheaply developed prints loosely organized with little negative slip cases - some bent - representing irreplaceable memories from years past. My head swims when I try to put my mind around it, but good or bad, I'm thankful for each of those memories. They are the very bits of things that make up the me of today. Did you ever see that movie "Sliding Doors" about a woman whose life is completely and forever changed by something as simple as whether or not she makes it through a sliding door at the beginning of the film? What if our lives were really that fragile? What if the smallest decision in any moment could alter our future on such a grand scale? Who would choose wisely and who would leave it to fate? It's a good coffee table conversation.

Alone and empty. I want to sleep. Please let me sleep.

My mother gave me a dehumidifier for my birthday and I absolutely love it. I keep having to turn my AC down (raise the temperature) because the dehumidifier is keeping the average humidity low enough that the house feels cooler throughout the day. I am curious if a difference will be realized in the electric bill over time. My energy bills in the summertime are outrageous. Highway robbery. Beth sent me a photo from Rob's wedding depicting a much younger me. I think I was around 27-ish and in a little better physical condition than the current run-down version of myself. I was still in the Navy then and lived in a galaxy far, far away.

from the way-back machine

This weekend at my grandmother's house, we were admiring the giant poinsettia in what used to be the pool, but is now a garden of sorts. I am always trying to sneak a kiss on the neck because she loves to hate it and I love her. Beth caught a snapshot of her usual response. I was downstairs channel surfing and enjoying a new wine I discovered this evening when I realized how tired I still was even after managing to sleep last night. One of EL's friends from her childhood sent me a nice note the other day that I meant to post, but of course forgot. I'll stick it at the bottom. I received quite a few birthday wishes from people I don't really know. It meant a lot to know that people were thinking of me. I've really been terrible at communicating recently... perhaps even for years to some. I promise to be better about that... I'm not usually absent minded. I would blame it on the lack of sleep if I could.

Nana hates getting kissed on the neck.

"Sometimes I feel there's nothing to say It's all irrelevant. Kind - but irrelevant. If I breathe I'll cry If I loose I'll gain To loose one's life is to gain what can not be earned To let it all down is to be weak so He can be strong He will carry the load that's been given He will hold the hand that is weak He's the Author of this book The Designer to this house I may only be the pages He's writing on But that doesn't stop me from wondering where the pen is going I may only be the bricks to this house But that doesn't hinder me from fear of the coming rain To love someone is painful But to love the one you've lost is even more so." - thanks Ali

I just got home from the grocery. I hate going there now. It is full of happy couples, beaming children, pregnant mothers, and people content with their lives. I don't like public places because of all the imagery. Topically, I don't care that many are subliminally miserable and unfulfilled. Don't get me wrong... I want them to be happy. It is the outward appearance of happiness that hurts... the perception. I am only human and I need to be loved... just like everybody else does. Heh. I trudged through the tiny smiles and holding hands and found the bare necessities. Water. Wine. Beer. I paused to think about food. What will I eat? I'll eat the memory of food. I had a nice lunch with Ted and Barrett (who drove half way across town to meet me because I didn't want to drive anywhere... what fine gents) at Erin's favorite local Italian place. You know, the one with the out-of-this-world cheesecake? So we finish our meal and the owner of the restaurant brings out an unsolicited piece of her cheesecake... because he knew... on the house. It was simultaneously sweet and heartbreaking. I feel myself coping in new and improved fashions, but this brings guilt. It's complicated. My mind is always racing. I struggle in search of peace. I have always been a spontaneous person... impractically just short of caution-to-the-wind on the scale, but often it's worked out well. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart. I think so many people live their whole lives and never embrace their emotions to discover what could be but rather accept never knowing. Always wishing, but never experiencing. It can lead to pain, but equally to tremendous joy. A coin toss... you only have to flip and open your eyes. Today my spontaneity was impulse shopping. I have a weakness for it and it makes me feel better... just a little. Some women buy shoes... my inner woman buys whatever is in arms reach that looks kinda cool at the grocery. I came home with more dog toys for a pair of canines with already too many. I bought a little cargo style khaki fishing vest and matching hat for Henry. He doesn't usually wear clothes, but it ended up in the cart anyway. I bought a new pair of shorts within which to sit around the house. I went over to the movie section searching for some solace. I thought a nice romance with a happy ending, a fiendishly funny comedy, or a titillating, action packed adventure would nice. I then realized that I'd probably just be depressed I was watching them alone and it would be counterproductive. I took an Ambien last night to sleep. It was the first full night of sleep I've had in weeks. I wish I could say it was restful. I woke up just in time to completely break down in tears. My night was full of nightmares, but the reality of my morning was much worse. Work was busy and the day passed at varying speed. In the moments I wasn't busy, I tried to linger in the memory of my weekend rather than the moment of its completion. I visited childhood friends and family. I found myself remembering thoughts and feelings I'd tucked away because of time, distance, and circumstances beyond my control. I smiled and laughed. I reminisced of different times and glimpsed at hope. I found amidst the hussle bussle of my visit a common thread that has been with me for years and a tiny little slice of myself that I've been ignoring for months. At night, when everything was very still, I found some peace. I miss that... again.

Green.