Years have come and gone, and the yearning for accomplishment – now considerably less urgent than before – continues to pulsate through my veins. Though it was once the carrot that kept me chasing, age dissipates such goals somewhat and leaves us dreaming of more mundane objectives, like comfort, retirement, and security.
In youth, I embraced every challenge energetically. No mountain was too high, no river too deep. I fancied myself eternal and life plum full of opportunities. There were no limits to my talents and possibilities. It was only a matter of applying myself to any given task. But with so many roads to take, I found myself stalling and reaching for experiences that might enlighten and educate me. The road taken was a detour, in the end, leading me through a myriad of twists and turns until I found myself exhausted and eager for tranquility. By then my best days were behind me, spent on living, as opposed to achieving.
We never do recover the time we leave behind.  We gai…


How to be objective about such subjective awareness as that which surrounds me? Rhetorical.
Are you aware? Do you see and understand every movement, every action and its nuances, every tiny little ripple in the pond you inhabit? Are you capable of viewing the world around you with impartial, critical eyes?
I find myself wondering, silently most of the time, about every single thing that happens in my sphere and how it affects me. My reactions are swift and drastic. Excessive at times. Most of the time. But they’re kept to myself in nearly every case. I don’t put them out there. I don’t let anybody hear the words (cuss words, mostly) that spew out of my mouth in silent missiles that always fail to reach their targets. I just keep a nasty look on my face.
Yet every word spoken, every movement made, and every action taken by others leaves a mark on me. I am affected by every breath other people take. I can’t help it. I don’t mean for it to be that way. I don’t like it that way. I wis…


So many things...

Life is full of joys, and full of toys...I want to work out more, and I want an Ipod to do it with.

I'm not sure anymore which begets the other, whether I want to workout more and so I need the Ipod, or whether I want the Ipod and so I need to workout more to justify buying one. With so many expenses in my life right now I definitely can't just go and buy one, not without first suffering over it and considering a million factors, tossing and turning a couple of sleepless nights, comparing prices and poring over the sales sheets...then going out and buying the first one I see. Either way, knowing myself the way I do, it's already a given that I'm going to buy one. But established procedures must be observed. Whatever.

Just thought I'd drop by and try my hand at this again briefly...see if I can summon up the courage to go back to posting on a steady basis. I want to see if I can do this without feeling sorry for myself, and begging for sympathy. That&…

...anybody still there...???

There are reasons why our lives get so complicated, I'm sure. As much as I fail to subscribe to most religious notions, part of me does believe in karma. Karma, as one type of energy that contributes to the ruling of our lives. Things that happen to me now, surely must be payment for some of the atrocious things I did in my youth. I hate to imagine what might yet be in store.

Nevertheless, I've vowed to keep trucking. I hate to disappoint those who eagerly await my demise, but I have no intention of letting life knock me on my ass. Not permanently, anyway.

I won't be telling you what the latest developments in my ongoing saga have been. Suffice it to say that they've been plentiful, relentless, and damned near overwhelming. But thankfully, both my daughter and myself are in good health, so the obstacles in my path are not insurmountable.

I apologize to all of you who've graciously and caringly written me, inquired about our well-being and uniformly showed your unfette…

And the blows keep coming...!!!!!

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Just found out my company will be closing up within the month. When it rains it pours, don't it?

I suppose it's just as well. One of those blessings in disguise people talk about. My job had become stagnant and there was no room to grow. This is probably the push I needed to find something else. And hopefully closer to home.

The problem is that I know I won't be able to find anything that pays as well as this job does, which is the main reason why I haven't left yet, and I have a hard time covering my current expenses already.

But I have a few weeks before I'm on the street. Hopefully I'll be able to find something worthwhile before then.

So I'm going home tonight to work on my resume (I hate dealing with that damned thing!). I'll have to concentrate on tightening up expenses even more. I'd be feeling a little bit more optimistic about things if my car wasn't at the shop right now getting a $500 brake job done on it!

A special day for Christina

It was at 10:32 AM, five years ago today. After some agonizing moments (for her and for everybody near her!) Cindy was finally enjoying the effects of her epidural. She was all smiles. She pushed the baby out during only her second set of contractions. I was barely hanging in there, convinced something would go wrong at the last second. Our friend was filming the entire thing. You wouldn't believe the look on my face. The strain was such that afterwards we noticed my belly button had popped out. I didn't think much of it at the time, but when my doctor saw it six months later he discovered an umbilical hernia. Go figure. I've attributed it to sympathy pains.

We had picked her name out beforehand, we just needed to make sure she was a girl. She was a tiny little thing, weighing in at just under 5 pounds. As they cleaned her up, I gaped at her disbelievingly.

I had pictured our baby as a perfect creature. A gorgeous little cherub with porcelain features; with fair skin and g…

Cactus Showdown

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Well past the main road, over dozens of moss covered stone walls and ascending the mountain, I climbed eagerly on horseback, emulating the moves and moods suggested by countless western films. I felt like a cowboy, there alone in the barren fields of Boyaca, where the depth of green horizons lay forever distant in the faded mountain range beyond us.

Crossing the large adobe portals with cracked and fallen clay tiles, rich with the wear of time and downtrodden by the careless weight of abandonment, I sensed a calm alike no other. We stepped cautiously through the creek, my horse and I, carefully placing her shoeless hooves on the shiny stones that were visible through the clear cascading water. Once past it, we stopped briefly for a drink.

I ventured into the open field I'd sought, slowly building up to a full gallop. My hat blew off and hung to my throat by its cord, snapping my head back uncomfortably. I always wondered how the real cow hands managed to k…