Holy shit, it's been a long time since I've updated this thing.  Here's my current life, in a nutshell: taking my 2 (almost 3) year-old to the bathroom to piss, getting the shit punched out of my face by him, not being able to sit in my chair and work at getting employed or finish my MBA because he insists on sitting in my lap all day, feeding him, listening to him scream (comes by that one naturally), and watching/waiting for the next immediate change from happy to pissed off in .02 seconds.  Yes, he's DEFINITELY my child.

So let's back up a little bit here because I know everyone is just waiting w/ baited breath to see what I've been up to.  Dec 12th I attended a Killswitch Engage show in downtown Denver.  My brother and I were up to our usual bad habits, and ended up getting way, way, waaaay too drunk before they came onto the stage.  I - against my normally better judgement - decided to go down to the floor and watch the show.  Like a moth to a flame, the pit found me...and beat the shit out of me.  As I was having alcohol-induced inner ear problems, my balance was non-existent.  Cut away to this: I got run over, smashed, stepped on...you name it.  Cut away again to this: My brother and I lost my car, it was icy and snowing this particular night.  We searched, walking around town drunk as fuck, for almost an hour (I think).  Add to that the fact that we kept falling on the ice and hitting our elbows, knees, and heads on the pavement - we were not in good shape.  Ended up at an all-night diner, where I first noticed that my breathing was labored.  Looooong, painful story, short: Two days or so later, I was told that I had 4 or 5 broken ribs, and that I ripped the tendons in my right thumb.  This was before feeling the floating piece of chipped bone in my left elbow, and all of the Mrs. Field's cookie sized bruises all over my body.  The only words for my condition: FUCKED UP!  I'm not sure if you've ever had broken ribs before, but let me tell you that it's probably one of the most painful things I've ever endured...for 8 weeks.  Jesus.  This is why I know...I KNOW that I'm supposed to start pits from the stage - not engage in them.  You would think that I would have learned that in '96, when I needed 15 stitches over my right eye, after attending a Deftones show.  Oh well.  I never said I made the most wise decisions whilst heavily under the influence.

Let's see, what else has been happening?  Christmas came and went this year.  We were so broke that we gave people little picture frames w/ current shots of the family in them, so that we could spend what we could on giving the boys as many gifts from Santa as possible.  A humbling holiday to be sure.  All of Kathy's family visited us from W. Palm Beach, FL - something that has become a bit of a tradition.  It's a love/hate affair when they're here.  I start to stress out, and make everyone else miserable...that's pretty much the state of affairs.  There was really only one blowout this year, and it was resolved quickly the next morning.  All in all, a fairly decent holiday.  I can always say that after the fact.  I'm a glutton for punishment though.  It's similar to how I've seen women deal with the pain of childbirth.  When they're in the middle of the pain of delivery, they swear that they will NEVER have another child - then after the baby is born they have a beautiful way of forgetting the pain in light of the love...thus the process is repeated.  Hopefully everyone is quick enough to follow my analogy.  Anyway, it's always nice to have a full house of family during the holidays.

Six weeks ago, I freaked out and had to take a short leave from my MBA courses.  It is literally impossible to write 20+ page reports with a 2 year-old boy in the house all the time.  I'm not sure how I can accurately explain this...but imagine sitting in your favorite chair or couch...and literally having a child climb all over you...all the time.  Add to this, my son's absolute lack of sympathy and compassion for pain that he inflicts (i.e. you get punched, or have him slice a plastic comb down your cheek, as he JUST did while I am writing this...and you say "ouch."  That merely pisses him off more, and the cost of your vocal reaction?  More toddler-inflicted pain, followed by 30 minutes (literally) of toddler crying.  Suffice to say, if I can't get this kid back into daycare - my Master's degree will probably be significantly delayed.  Not cool.  (Fuck my cheek hurts right now.  I think he drew blood this time.)

Blah, blah.  I love all three of my boys - regardless.  I always bitch, because that's the way I'm incorrectly wired, but without my Kathy and my boys, I'd have no reason to live.

That's enough boohooing, bitching, updating, and revealing what I don't really think I want you to know.  Everyday is on rewind - that's my ending thought.

...another update, whenever.

This sucks.  I'm getting very down again, and it's seemingly due to the usual suspects.  My job, our financial situation, our house and the fact that we're trapped in it, my general state of lethargy...on and on.  All weekend long I was just tired.  Tired enough that I wanted to sleep every moment that I could.  Why?  I go into every Monday, hating my life because I feel guilty for taking my boys to daycare; for feeling like I wasted my weekend, and my time with them; for not doing my homework for Tuesday night, so I have to stress about that.  I get a horrible, sinking feeling every Sunday night, knowing that I have to go back to work the next day - for another five days of assholes, socially inept coworkers, a dead-end job, boredom, a minimal salary, etc.  Pretty sad that I've not even been at my job for two whole months, and I already despise it.  Not just "oh, it's a job, I'll suck it up because it's not that bad," but more like "I fucking HATE wasting my life, facing the goddamned corner, acting like I'm working and busy even though I'm not (because I finish every project within two hours of beginning my week), talking to my coworkers who refuse to even respond to me."  I seriously would rather rake my balls over a cheese grater, than come into this motherfucking job anymore.  Then I begin to think: Is this what most people say, after years and years of being at the same job?  That they just sucked it up to make a paycheck?  That they wasted their entire fucking lives doing something they hated?  I don't want to end up like that!  I've started the new rx suggestions of my Dr.s - aren't they supposed to help this sinking feeling in my soul?  Why aren't they?  All I seem to ever want to do is cower in a corner w/ my knees to my chest, in a dark room...or sleep.  I can't live like this, dreading everyday, hating my life yet loving my family so much that I don't ever want them out of my site (if only I had a "mute" button sometimes), feeling guilty, destroying myself because I have no self-esteem, slowly dying everyday at a job (any job) that I hate.  Honestly, all this shit in my head makes me physically sick sometimes.  I feel like the only way to feel better, is to vomit.  Why can't I be like everyone else, and just push this shit down in order to do what is necessary to be "happy," or at the very least...numb enough to not care anymore?

Started my MBA classes last Tuesday.  This is going to be a challenge, to say the least.  Nevertheless, I'm happy to be pursuing my graduate degree - just so I can shove it into everyone's worthless face.

My doctor basically told me that I'm crazy, the other day (obviously not in so many words).  She's trying to put me on some new meds that will basically make a zombie out of me.  I don't think I'm going to follow through w/ her suggestion(s). 

We haven't paid our mortgage in two months b/c we can't afford to do so.  A foreclosure is in the cards if this doesn't change.  Both car payments are two months behind as well...not to mention all other bills.  So fucked.  I honestly am very worried about finances.  There are a couple of job possibilities "out there" but nothing that will put money in the bank TODAY, hence the problem.  Again, so fucked.

I feel so worthless these days.  Always tired, moody, angry, and very very sad.  I try to "big picture" my life, and can't.  One would think I'd be writing a lot - but I'm too mentally fucked to even do that.  Worthless and sad.  Kind of gives new meaning to the lyrics I wrote for the song of the same name:

::worthless::

My face is a costume of pain

Never know the real

Smash up all that I see

Tortured forever, what's the big fucking deal

Give up on me – I'm all out

Let me go – It's all over

Quit trying to save me

I'm worthless to anyone

Nothing can help me

Nothing can make me well

I'm a nobody, a jokers joke

A fake made up nothing that's always been broke

A million pills can't fix me

Nothing will change the inevitable 

Give up on me – I'm all out

Let me go – It's all over

Quit trying to save me

I'm worthless to anyone

Nothing can help me

Nothing can make me well x2

No time for anything

All's lost but for the doubt

No time for anything

All's lost but for the doubt

So, it's been forver since I've updated this blog.  How can I be this busy when I don't have a fucking job?  WARNING: This is probably the longest, most comprehensive (aka boring) entry of all time.

Here's a list that I will expand on, one by one:

• MBA
• Sliced knuckle
• Dead laptop
• Unemployment
• My band

- So I have decided that, since I've been laid off so many times in a row, that I need to expand my college degree.  That's right ladies and gents, I'm going back to school to earn my Masters in Business Administration diploma.  First, and most logical question to ask me, "ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!"  Answer, "Yes."  I will be going one night p/week, for four hours per night.  That's tough - but worth it in the long run.  I only have to take 10 courses - which equates to around one year.  Not bad.  Oh, did I mention that I start this on the 27th of this month?!  A little nervous, but ready to get in, get my MBA, and hopefully land a job that I like, and that I can be satisfied with (the most important part).  Wish me luck...

- I was sharpening my knives the other day (I've decided to begin collecting them - for whatever stupid fucking reason), and was using a little deal that's supposed to put a nice edge on the knife.  I applied too much pressure as I was pulling the blade through and, once through the sharpener, it kept going, and sunk (literally) into my knuckle on my right, ring finger.  Positive: the blade was so sharp that by the time I realized it was buried in my flesh, it was over.  Negative: it was deeeeeep - and my two boys were home with me.  So, I'm trying to remain calm so as not to freak my kids out - meanwhile blood is literally already making it's way to my elbow.  I ran into the bathroom and began to realize the relative severity of this little slip...I couldn't get the bleeding to stop!  As I'm holding toilet paper over the hole in my finger it occurs to me that this fucker needs a tourniquet.  Earplugs to the rescue.  That's right, you know the kind of earplugs that are connected by a little plastic string.  I tie this thing around the base of my finger (meanwhile still bleeding everywhere, and at this point having to reassure the boys that I was okay) and the blood flood subsides.  It's then that I know something more drastic needs to happen here...a Bandaid will not work this time.  I promptly found the jug of peroxide and a sewing kit, and begin sterilizing some black thread and a medium-guage needle.  I've been told that was quite a "Rambo-esque move"...whatever, I did what I had to do.  It was next to impossible to get two little boys into a car that was parked in the garage, after getting them dressed, feeding them, and all the while not continuing to hemorrage! (did I spell that right? aww who cares.).  The needle was not very willing to go through my skin until I really pushed hard, but after some coaxing it went through - pulling the black thread with it (black thread, so metal!).  Two fairly well-placed stitches later, I was good to go!  LONG story, short, my finger started to hurt more and more throughout the day, so I decide a trip to the Urgent Care Clinic is needed.  NOW I gather up the boys, get in the car and head out.  The three of us are sitting in the waiting room, when I begin to bleed again - profusely.  This get's the staff's attention and get's me a room.  They come in, look at my finger, and besides the deep laceration - they're now worried about "partial finger strangulation."  That's right all - in my rush to control the bleeding, I neglected to take off my ring...my deceased father's wedding ring.  Concerned about nerve damage to the finger, they begin a horribly painful procedure of cutting (grinding, really) the ring off of my finger.  After about 45 minutes of this we are successful in removing the ring - w/ the help of a cast spreader.  Did I mention that all the while, i've got a 1 1/2 and a 5 1/2 year old in the examination room w/ me?  Good times.  Next morning the finger was worse - so I end up going to the ER, where they say the wound is too old to suture (I took the stitches out, so as not to look like a COMPLETE ass!), and send me home w/ bandages and massive antibiotics.  So that's my long, painful, stupid, manly story.  Here's a picture (hope you're not eating when you view this!): 

- A couple of weeks ago my brand new HP laptop took a MASSIVE shit.  Not cool.  So I call HP Tech Support.  We're on the phone for over an hour, "trouble-shooting."  At the end, after removing the hard drive, the RAM, and whatever else that's inside my cpu, the "tech" decides that the laptop needs to be sent to HP for official repair.  NO SHIT, EH??!!  Oh, and I could BARELY understand the fucker, to top everything off.  Whatever, FedEx brought a box the next day, HP had the laptop for about a week and returned it w/ a new motherboard, RAM, and hard drive.  It works now - but everything that I had on it...pretty much gone.  Ironically, I had purchased an external hard-drive for such an occasion THAT SAME DAY!  The laptop info is on there...but it's encrypted somehow - so I still have to figure that shit out.  I hate that I'm so dependent on computers now.  But I love them too...what's a fucker to do?!

- Still unemployed as of today.  Two weeks ago I got a call from a placement company.  They were shitting their poverbial pants to get me in for an interview, which I obliged them with.  I was a "top candidate" for two positions at two different companies.  That's pretty much where the trail ended.  Now, they won't return my fucking phone calls, emails...nothing.  Nice.  Don't get me started on this subject.  Meanwhile, most of my time (except for today) is spent on Monster.com.  I HATE that I don't have a job.  I hate it.  I hate it.  It makes me hate myself, doubt myself, disregard myself.  Etc, etc...

- My band, FILTH INDUSTRY is doing...nothing at the moment.  Makes me sad that all of our talent isn't out there for everyone to see and hear.  We have SO much left to do as a band - so much to give to the people who come to our concerts.  Just sucks that life gets in the way of one's passion...making it more a hobby than anything else.  We were supposed to play a show on the 16th, but it got cancelled a few days before.  Something about new management at the club.  That was a killer for all four of us - we were really looking forward to playing.  Our next show isn't scheduled until May, sometime, now.

So that's what's been happening w/ me, lately.  Aren't you sorry you were curious?  That's all of the tripe I've got to write about - for now.  Thank you all...fuck off.

Well this sucks  I started the entry below last Thursday.  It was saved as a "draft" and I was going to add more to it, but things took a turn on Friday.  Yeah, I was "let go" again.  I can't even fucking believe it.  Honestly, I'm at a loss for words - for once.  To say that I'm down in the dumps wouldn't ever do justice to how I'm truly feeling...and to top it off, I feel very isolated.  Like I have no one to talk to about this pain in my chest.  Sucks.  I had a huge blog entry that I was gonna post...and now I can't even find that.  Whatever.  Suppose it really doesn't matter anyway, just more of me bitching and screaming to an empty universe.  I give up, I really just give up.

I think I'm stuck in time right now.  Life seems to have me on a precipice of sorts.  One half of me is continually looking backwards, back seven,eight, or nine years ago.  That's a long fucking time ago, and yet, in my mind it's as clear, important, and enticing as yesterday.  I got such a late start on my 20's, so-to-speak, and now that they're gone I'm feeling so vulnerable and nostalgic and weird.  I wish I could just enjoy where I am right NOW in life.  Otherwise, in ten more years, I'll be wishing for 20 years back.  Fuck, that's pathetic.  It's Jan. 25, 2007 - at the beginning of July, it will be 6 years since I moved from C.Springs to Denver.  Where the FUCK is time going?  What is happening?!  The differences, the changes, the additions, the loss, the sorrow, the happiness, the joy of the past 10 or so years is, to me, unfathomable.  I've been haunted by a need to write things like this down for a while now.  A pseudo-list of things, events, dates that have come and gone.  Honestly though, I don't have a clue where to begin.  There's so much in my head, so much that I want to free myself from, so much that I need to let go.  That's the key right there...I need to be able to let go of the past.

I'm almost proud.  She's rich, famous, and a complete mess!  Now this truly proves the human-side of celebrities.  Turns out that Miss Lindsay Lohan has not only a problem w/ drugs, alcohol, and partying...but she's also (apparently) a cutter.  What is a "cutter" one might ask?  Here's MY definition: 

A cutter is one who, for their own reasons, decide to cut into their skin in unnatural fits of delusional-desire for pain.  Methods of doing such vary from regular knives, to razor blades, broken pieces of glass...pretty much anything that is sharp enough to pierce and slice the skin, and produce the warm, red blood that is lurking underneath.

Yes, it's strange - but whatever.  There are many more worrysome, pressing, important things afoot in the fucked-up world in which we live, than how someone attempts to handle their own version of mental/internal "pain."

I'm not sure...but those SURE look like self-inflicted wounds to me.  I have a new-found sense of curiosity about Miss Lohan now.

I know - I'm a disturbing individual.  I never claimed NOT to be.  With all the shit I'm dealing with in my own life, inside my OWN fucked-up head - I suppose I take solace knowing that fame and fortune (which most crave) cannot provide everyone with true happiness.  Granted, I'll never know for sure - as I'm not planning on becoming rich in my lifetime...nor famous for that matter...but it's still enough of a thought-provoking topic that I choose to write about it in my beloved - albeit lonly step-child of a blog.

...slice on my sick non-friends...slice on.

Yeah...I'm at it again.  Why?  I'm an idiot, that's why.  Why else?  I like it, that's why.  Whatever, it's almost gone anyway.  Then I'll be back to the usual.  Up, down, up, down.  The pupils dialate.  The pulse speeds up to unnatural bpm's.  Then as soon as it starts...it's gone again.  Irony at it's finest.  I hope the pharmacy calls tonight.  My anxiety level has been getting out of control again, manifesting itself in me just being a huge asshole.

There's major family tension right now between my brother, mom, and I.  Adding to the problem?...the upcoming holidays.  I'm so pissed off at my brother and do NOT want to see him and patch shit up yet.  I think I'm entitled to be angry for a while.  Just because he's "moving on" after fucking up his family so badly doesn't mean that I'm ready to do the same.  I am not ready to share a holiday, my family, my wife, my boys with her.  She doesn't deserve to see the inside of my family, she doesn't deserve to be in the pictures we'll take - the memories we'll have.  She's not worthy.

(I have to get rid of this shit.)

Time to kill it all away.  Time to reflect on my life.  Time to remember those I've lost through the years.  Time to be sad.  It's time for so, so much that there's never going to be enough time.

The day after Halloween '06.  This year pretty much sucked, too.  I did nothing that would resemble a normal 10.31 for me.  No parties.  No illegal activities.  No concert w/ my band.  Nada.  Instead (and this was fun in it's own right), I took the little ones out trick or treating.  Had it not been 20 degrees, it might have been a *tad* more enjoyable.  C'est la vie.  Now onto the most memorable portion of the evening:  My mom came over w/ her signature vat o' chili.  This is GOOOOOD chili.  And it being cold outside - this was the perfect night for it.  I digress.  So, the kids eat before going out, and I decide to wait until after we return.  About halfway through, mom decides she's too cold, and goes back to the house w/ the 1 1/2 year old.  Well, apparently she fed him as much candy as he could fit in his little mouth.  I didn't think about this, until it was too late.  As I sat in the recliner, enjoying a bowl of chili, he sat in my lap, drinking his milk...readying for bed.  Then, before I know what is happening I am witnessing something out of The Exorcist.  He PROJECTILE pukes the entire contents of his, now way overstuffed, stomach all over me.  Next thing I know, my entire left side is covered in a warm, brown, disgusting mixture of chocolate and chili - which somehow has retained it's color properties.  Mind you, I'm still in the process of eating my own bowl.  Long, vomitous story short, I somehow manage to quell my INSTANT reflex to let forth w/ my own spray of vomit, and manage to get upstairs to summon a change of clothes.  (Just thinking about it makes my cheeks tingle and brow sweat).

So there you have it.  My Halloween 2006 story.  And to think that a year ago, and the year prior, and the year prior, etc, etc I was on a stage - yelling into my microphone.  I hope this isn't a sign of change.

It is Oct. 17th, and it's snowing outside.  I LOVE this weather!  I'm sitting in my office, at my new job...listening to Type O Negative and watching the snow fall.  Now all I need is more coffee, and some chili.  This is the weather that moves me.  This is the weather that stirs my soul.

The new job is going well.  After a bumpy start due to HR and the recruiting dept. fucking up a bit, I'm getting settled in nicely.  I narrowly avoided a trip to San Francisco by starting when I did, so I'm happy about that.  I'm still jonesing for the first paycheck though.  We are so broke right now...our fucking water got turned off this afternoon.  So it's gonna take almost $200 to get it turned back on.  Haven't paid mortgage for this month yet...things are VERY tight for the short term.  Next Thursday will be my first paycheck - thank God.

...more soon...