Brain Spill
I started blogging thinking that this is where I would review whatever media I felt like ranting about. It quickly changed direction. So this is my online diary. Comments are welcome.
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We shared a room when we were kids.
Jumped bed to bed because the floor was lava. We made pillow forts and haunted houses when we had bunk beds. Ghostbusters and Ninja Turtles. Wrestle mania, Brother. We had robots on border wallpaper around the middle of the room. Mom used to yell at us to "GO. TO. SLEEP!" Laughing at stupid jokes and farts. Remember when we’d throw that old football pillow across the room at each other in the dark? Remember the owl that nested in the big tree outside our window? You would get sick sometimes and couldn’t breathe. That was scary. So sometime Mom or Dad would sleep in our room with us. Then, when I was going into 4th grade, you into 3rd, we moved… We got a bigger room! Same color yellow. More room for toys, desks, and whatever. Your army men we tied to plastic bags and pretended they were parachutes. They'd float to the ground from our second story window. Neighborhood kids slept over. Bill, who never went home. We got a big stereo for Christmas that one year. No Doubt, Tragic Kingdom, All-4-One, Buckshot LeFonque. Music filled our souls and every corner of our room. But the street light was always too bright in our window. And there was traffic all night. The sounds and lights of emergency vehicles was scary at first. But to this day, when I need to find a peaceful place in my head, I think about our room and being curled up on my bed; and gazing at the traffic light down the block. The last time we shared a room, I was almost in high school, and you had to leave with Mom. Our room was too big when you were gone. All the space we made for fun things felt cold and useless. My bad dreams came more often. I just wanted things back to normal; when we were kids and our knees had scabs on them. When night-time wasn’t scary because you were there with me. I didn’t want my own room even though at one point I might have said I did. Our house was too empty without our family. Our room wasn't crowded enough. We have always been close. I haven’t had to do anything alone. Ever. You are my best friend. I know it wasn’t always perfect. I know there are things I regret doing or saying. I can’t take any of it back. I hope you don’t resent me in any way, because this, better than anything, is what I remember about growing up. Sharing a room with you.
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 This was a note I took down while Ashley and I were at Jami's grad party. It's a little mushy, but this is how I think when I'm alone with my thought. I wanted to write it down, because this thought was beautiful and genuine.
I’m currently at a college graduation party for a friend the day before Mother’s Day. In fact, the Maid of Honor for my wedding later this year, and I'm looking around at friends and the older siblings of our friends. They have kids here. Kids who think fart jokes and toilet humor are hilarious. It makes me think of my own nieces and nephews, the little turds... I catch the eye of my beautiful fiancée. I can tell she's soaking it in, and the coolest thing hit me. This woman, the love of my life, will be the mother of my children one day. It isn't something I think about often, because I'm not ready to have kids yet. But sometimes when I see her like this in these moments I realize that she is, by far, the greatest thing in my life. I never could have guessed this is where my life would lead. I'm no saint people, but I am blessed by this lovely woman. As things are winding down I find myself wondering if I've made a good enough impression on some of the folks I didn't know at the party. I can tell that it isn't even a thought in her mind. She's a confident type when surround by familiar faces even though she’s normally shy. I love that about her. She's a family gal, and for that I am humbled. The girl I'm silently watching from across the table will be a great mother to my children. Okay, I know it's been like 2 months since I've written anything, and if you've read this drivel before, then you know that I'm engaged now. Which means I'm busy doing wedding stuff. I don't know, I guess I didn't think I was going to write about more of that, but I feel like maybe putting in a few lines of the exciting stuff. Who knows where it will go. Ashley and I decided who we would like to be in our wedding party. Then, we had a pizza party (because we're 10), and asked them nicely to be part of our big day. Luckily for us nobody declined. That would have been awkward. We both made individual gift boxes for our people. (Yeah, I call them our people.) Ashley put these really neat boxes together with a monogram stencil of the bridesmaids' first initial on each. Next, she added some girly gifts; nail polish, silly flavored chapstick (the kinds that little girls think are rad), a funky pen, a really nice necklace with a silver engraved pendant, and a miniature bottle of pink moscato. Then she wrapped them in bows the same color as the dress she'd like them to wear. I didn't put that much work into it. Plus, we're all dudes. I used cigar boxes and I had a friend from work write their names under the lids in really nice calligraphy. Then I added a small bottle of Crown Royal Regal Apple (because I know the way to a man's heart), a cigar, cutter, long wood matches, and a bow tie to put it all together. The bow ties are the same colors as the girls' dresses. We made them match. They didn't seem to mind. Each of them had a personalized note inside their boxes. It was a fun project for us to work on together; especially knowing it would be something special for our friends. We've booked the church and the reception hall. In my opinion, that was the easy stuff. I think we both walked into the church and felt a tingle that started in our toes, and worked it's way out through our finger tips. We knew right then that it was our place. The reception hall was a bit harder though, because we had the same reaction to one place in particular. The only problem was that it was too small to accommodate the number of guests we anticipate. This is really where my heart broke in the search for our reception hall. I couldn't continue. I didn't want to see any other places. They wouldn't be nearly as cool, and that was the only place I wanted to do it. And that was my final word. But then Ashley stepped in and found a place that will be perfect for us. (Again, boys, she's mine.) We talked my cousin, Kristen Powers, into being our official photographer for the day. I'm thrilled about it, because it will eliminate that awkward wall of unfamiliarity that comes with a stranger taking personal pictures of you. An acquaintance of mine agreed to MC/DJ for us, and I'm hoping a good friend of mine will do the videography for the day. I have a lot of faith in my talented friends and family. I know they will help us have a spectacular day. There's still quite a bit of planning to do, but with friends and family helping out I think we're closer than it seems. I'm actually super excited for the day to come. I honestly never thought ahead to my wedding day before all this. Sure, there were times when I thought about getting married, but this is all real. It's a different sense than just imagining. The biggest difference is that when I have an idea about something that I think would be cool, all I have to do is say it out loud and it becomes a plan instead of an idea. It's a neat process, but I'll tell you this; never again. Good thing I'm marrying Ashley. She's the best part of me. She's my people.   I was just sitting here at my desk after finishing my lunch of a delicious split pea soup, and decided to click the shuffle button on my iTunes playlist titled, "Classical." And well, let me tell ya, I am never unmoved by great music. Regardless of genre. It could be because I'm a big soft teddy bear, but I think in this case it's because the suite (Clair de lune) makes me think of my dad. Also, it made me think about my upcoming wedding. I'm going to be very real right now. I just want the wedding to be everything Ashley has ever wanted it to be. I could literally be happy to not make any decisions about it at all, as long as it was everything she wanted. And I genuinely mean that. I know a lot of people would probably think, "that's a cop-out", but it's not. I know I'll have to make some decisions, and hopefully they're great ones for the sake of my fiancée and our guests.
It got me thinking about something I saw just after Christmas that kind of upset me a little. (Basically, I let a troll on the internet get to me.) You see, I proposed to Ashley on Christmas. According to the internet troll on Facebook, that was unoriginal. As a matter of fact, I'll post what I read. (This was not from the person whose page I saw it on. He simply re-posted, and I acted irrationally and unfriended him. Sorry.) "The biggest problem I have with proposing on Christmas is that it's unoriginal. It's just so incredibly lame. Same goes for New Year's Eve. It's just foolish and self-centered to do it on days that should be about family and friends, not your relationship. It's a cliché wrapped in a cliché wrapped in a metaphor for yout sh***y, unoriginal, uninspiring love story that will culminate withe you getting down on a knee in the living room, leaving most of the family members in attendance with a look on their face that says, "Look at this f***in' guy."" If you're wondering, yes, I edited the expletives. I wanted to address this though. You can't just throw a blanket over something like this and call it cliché. (Actually you can, but I wanna complain about it, so meh.) I don't agree with anything this fella was saying, and I actually felt a little sorry for him. Here's the thing: I (and by 'I', I mean we) have had an extremely tough year. In 2013 we were all still so numb from Dad's death that we really couldn't enjoy our holidays. I'm thrilled that this year was different. Ashley and I gave the family something to smile about and to look forward to. Sounds to me like we were able to give something special to our family and friends. It wasn't just about us. The other thing is how this dude called it unoriginal and uninspiring. That's great. (I get the idea that this person is really lonely.) See, I'd been planning to propose for about a year. I knew last Christmas that I definitely wanted to marry her, (eat your hearts out boys, she's mine) but the only issue for me was, when? I had a few really cool and totally original ideas, but let's face it, it's all been done before. So, I didn't do something that would have gone viral on YouTube. I didn't fly her all around the world just to ask for her hand at our last destination. I didn't hide secret messages that lead her on a scavenger hunt to find her ring and myself waiting for her to say yes. (Not saying those are bad ideas.) Instead of extravagant I played Santa at out family Christmas get together. I made sure all the presents were passed out. Then, I got down on a knee and asked the woman I love to be my wife. I did it in front of my family. I wasn't trying to take all the attention. I was trying to give my girlfriend the very best Christmas gift I could. She deserves so much more for all the things she's done for me in the past couple of years. I want her to be my family. Oh, and ask anybody who was there if it was annoying. They'll tell you the truth. All I know is that it was about love, not my relationship. Love for my family, love for my lady, and love for the things to come. And you know what? Ashley thought it was absolutely perfect. #winning.  I probably couldn't count how many times I've said I'm going to do something only to end up running out of steam, or completely abandoning a project. My point is that I don't want this to be one of those. I want to continue to write. I have other writing projects in mind, and running out of steam on this one will derail all the rest. I know, it's easy to think, "so do it.", or "write more often." And I do think like that.
What I can't figure out is if I'm doing it right. I get on here and plug out some of my thoughts that I'm honestly not sure if anyone reads. But is that why I should do it anyway? Is the uncertainty the reason I don't do it as often as I figured I would? Is it something else? Maybe I haven't found my voice yet. Maybe I don't know what I want to say. It's all that and more I think. I did have a reason to write today though. I have to say some things to someone who is very close to me. He's going through a really rough thing right now, and to him it seems so sudden and out of nowhere. I understand that things were going so great in your life. I've been right here with you the whole time. I've also been on the outside of all of this, and bracing for impact. I love you, brother. You never have to hide how you're feeling from me. You don't have to put on your paper mask and pretend. Mostly because I can see right through it. I know this sucks. I actually know that it isn't just the one thing, but that a lot of things are eating away at you now. It was easy to shoulder the small bits while you were floating on clouds, but this is a catalyst for negativity now. Pick yourself up. Look around you. Notice the pieces still left in place. Brush them off good and hold your head high kid, you're doing fine. We talked about it recently. About how great things are going for you. Remember that I told you to remember what it felt like to be down and out. Hopefully you took a moment to think about that. To think about a time when we were so broke a cheese sandwich was a meal. To think about the handful of times neither one of us had reliable transportation and had to rely on the hospitality of others. And to think about what it felt like to suddenly be without a place to sleep at night. Things haven't always been up in the clouds for you man, but looking back you can see they've been much worse. I'm not on here to air your laundry. I haven't mentioned anything too personal. Besides that, anyone who knows you already knows everything about you. You're an open book, my friend. And this small thing that has you twisted up is just an ellipsis at the end of a chapter that is to be continued.  My heart is broken. In the wake of recent tragedy in my life I have realized that I can hear the music in my soul. I hear it out loud and at all times. Sometimes it's so loud it just feels like pressure in my head. Other times it is as quiet as a whisper in the wind. But it's always there. What have I done to have lost the ability to hear this beautiful composition for so long? Was it any of my few questionable life decisions I have made? Was it because I gave up playing music, or writing, or acting, or any of the things I was so enamored of but just quit doing? Or is it because I'm lost on my spiritual path in my walk with God? I'm almost certain it's the latter.
When my dad passed I did the only thing I could do. I prayed. I prayed hard. Some of you can really connect with what it means to pray hard. I haven't prayed like that since I was 16 years old. Some may ask, why then? What good was praying for a man's soul that had already passed? Turns out I wasn't praying for my dad's soul. I was praying for mine. And an internal peace is what was answered. Ask me how I know my prayers were heard. Every time the leaves rustle against my front door I hear the symphony rise, and when I lay down at night the soloist begins my lullaby. My heart is filled with music, my mind is filled with stories and words, and my eyes are filled with brilliant color. I feel creative. I know that Dad only ever wanted me to be happy with what I was creating. He was so very proud of everything any of his kids did. I hope those siblings of mine read this and know, Dad was your #1 fan too. So, have a conversation with God, and listen to the music. |
AuthorI discovered reading and writing for fun when I was in the 4th grade and I haven't been able to stop. I discovered my musical talent when I was 12 and started a band with my brother and my best friends. I have been on a journey of discovery that has shaped and molded my tastes for music, reading, writing, art, food and extracurricular activities since I was a high school freshman. And I'm not quite finished, so come along. Archives
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