oops part deux.

This is probably my 3rd or 4th attempt at having a blog, and consistently writing in it.  Obviously, I’m not doing so great.

I’ve been struggling to find the time, the want, the topics to write.  Life hasn’t been super interesting.  I read, eat, work, and play taxi cab to Calista with all her activities.

I haven’t been working out, or eating well.  I want to, but in the end, choose not to.  I’ve come to terms with my weight, and don’t hate myself over it.  I do want to be healthier, thinner, fitter, but at the moment don’t have the energy, or the will power.  I believe that I will get there eventually, hopefully.

In about 9 weeks, we will be making our way to the PacNW.  I’m very excited about our new venture.  Excited to leave the sad memories behind, but also sad to leave the good ones.  It all comes with the territory, of being a habitual mover.  Meet really wonderful people, and then leave them behind.  I am hoping that Seattle is our last move, but who can say what will happen in the future.

I’m currently reading book 23 of the 50 Books in 2014 challenge!  I’m stoked to still be ahead of schedule, and have read some really great books.  Although I’m still not reading as much as I was in the beginning, I’m still happy with my current pace.  I mean, considering in the last 10 years, I think I read less than I have in the first 4 months of this year.



April 9th, one of my co-workers passed away.  His name is Patrick, and he was one of my favorite co-workers.  He was very quiet, reserved, professional.  I adored him because he hardly ever complained.  The rest of us, complain usually on a daily basis, and it was just nice having someone in the office who was a positive light.  He was incredibly young, 35 years old.  Last we heard, he had died of a heart attack, but we wouldn’t know for sure, unless his father decides to share that information with the office.  After the funeral, his friends had invited me and a few co-workers to a party in his honor.  I had asked his closest friends to share their story of Patrick, since we only knew the Patrick at work.  Turns out, I had no idea who he was.  A year of working with him, having multiple conversations with him a day.  I had no idea who he was.  It makes me sad, and makes me think, I need to start caring more about people in my life.  Asking more questions, learning more about people.  I don’t want to not know the people in my life.  It still sucks going to work, and not having Patrick there, but after the funeral, and the party, I feel like I’ve gotten the closure I needed to not be as sad I was prior to those things.

I also found out my step-dad is not doing so great.  He has stage 4 terminal lung cancer, and isn’t going to be around for much longer.  I haven’t really put much thought into this situation, as I’m not ready to handle it quite yet.  I don’t have a lot of time left, so I need to figure something out.  He only lives about 3 hours driving from me, and I WANT to go see him, but…I don’t know if I can.

Yesterday we took some family photos, I haven’t gotten any of the proofs back yet, but I’m excited to show y’all.  I wanted to take the photos partially because we’re leaving, and I won’t be able to have NIA Photography take anymore photos of us, and partially because I wanted to document my hair.  Sounds silly, I know, but my hair hadn’t been that long in roughly…well, since I was probably 7.  Anyhow, after the photo shoot, I went to my favorite place to get haircuts, and chopped it all off.  A lot of people say that they are too scared to have such a drastic cut, but I really feel more comfortable with short hair.  When my hair is long, I don’t know what to do with it, so 98% of the time, it ends up in a ponytail.  The cut I ended up with, isn’t exactly what I was wanting, but it’ll grow out a little and then be perfect.



Other than that.  We are just starting to pack, and clear things out of the house.

Oh, and today’s PostSecret!



It’s oh so true.  For whatever, I feel embarrassed when people give me gifts.  ESPECIALLY when the gift sucks haha

So, until next time.


happy birthday, mom.

I have many regrets when it comes to my mother.   I regret leaving her when I was 16; actually, I regret leaving every time I did.  I regret not telling her every chance I had that I loved her.  I regret not hugging her more.  I regret not taking more photos of and with her, to preserve her memory.  I regret not working harder, in every aspect of my life, to make her proud.  I took her for granted, and now she’s gone.

Ever since the day she died, people have been telling me that it’s just going to take time.  Time to heal, time to feel normal again.  Though it’s barely been 6 months, I still don’t believe it.  Every time something happens in my life, whether it be good or bad, I still pull my phone out to call her.

It’s her birthday today, she would have been 50-something.  Even though she’s gone, I’m sure she would still find a way to punish me for giving away her age haha.  I would have taken her out to dinner, probably to her favorite Pho restaurant.  I would have bought her flowers, probably would have bought her more turquoise jewelry that she didn’t need.  We would have laughed at whatever shitty present her husband bought her, because he was the absolute worst at giving gifts to her.  Instead, I sit here and remember times we’ve shared.  I try to remember advice that she’s given me.  I try to remember plans that we’ve made.

I often find myself trying to compare myself to her.  In what ways am I like her?  I know for certain, I am stubborn just like her.  I want things my way, and often won’t stray from that.  Though our sense of fashion was far from similar, we were both very into our looks.  I remember spending hours in that damned closet of a store in downtown Juneau.  Kimberly’s Closet.  My mother loved to look her best, from her hair, to her clothes to her nails.  I’m more casual, but I love to spend money on hoodies, and sneakers.  Our sense of style definitely represent ourselves, and I think my mother taught me that.  I know she wished that I would have dressed more like a lady, instead of a pre-pubescent boy.  I also know for a fact, that my sense of music is directly derived from her.  I remember my mom blasting music in the truck.  Gypsy Kings, Bonnie Raitt, BB King, later it would be P!nk and Lady Gaga.  As an adult, I find myself in love with the music I was raised on.  I feel kind of silly, listening to the Gypsy Kings, considering I haven’t the slightest idea what they’re saying.  I’m always drifting toward new artists, singing songs that remind me of her, and then I find myself in tears.

I guess this post is a long, drawn out way of saying, Mom, I miss you.  I’ll never forget you.  I love you.  Happy Birthday.

This song really doesn’t have much to do with my feelings toward my mother, it’s just a song with a little bit of her, and a little bit of me, put together.

it’s happening

For whatever reason, I could not contain my emotions yesterday.

The holidays are quickly approaching, and as well as many others.  It was my mothers favorite time of year.  She loved cooking and decorating.  She especially loved making other people happy.

I believe this was somewhere around 1990?

Anyway, I feel like, traveling.  I want to forget that this is my first holiday season without my mother.  I want to pretend like she’s not gone, and I’m just on a regular vacation.  Unfortunately, I’ve got my family to think about.  I need to be here for them.  And unfortunately, she is gone, and won’t be coming back.

Seeing as this is our last year in Dallas, I think we’re not going to make a big deal of Thanksgiving.  We’re going to act like it’s just another day.  Hit up Denny’s, go to a movie.  Maybe get some shopping in later on.

As for next year, I think we may be in Seattle.  So it’ll be time to start coming up with some new traditions for our little family.  It’ll be interesting to see what we come up with, since we’re not exactly “traditional”.