Finding the time

The schedule here in Mira Mesa is a little strange so I haven't had any time to sit down and write. I still don't have it. ( I have carried the laptop under my arm into another room twice just since I started writing this) It is weird making decisions completely by myself. While Traci and I were together, I rarely changed my decisions after talking with her. But it was a nice safety net knowing someone either agreed with you or what potential problems someone else saw with the decision. Taking this job was a no brainer, stay not working in construction for my father(who is busy now finally) or start working somewhere, anywhere with a steady paycheck and good benefits. But now I have more and more little things to think about that I miss being able to discuss with her. Autumn and Sarah are just doing so well down here and I couldn't be more proud of them. They seem to be coming home from daycare with nothing but positive things to say about Mrs. Bev. Part of me wishes I could afford the preschool style daycare down here. Autumn annd Sarah are so bright, they really excelled in the structured class room style projects they did every day in Riverside. That kind of program down here would be $175.00 per week more though.

You probably didn't know

The girls and I are now living in Mira Mesa. We moved into a spare bedroom a friend of a friend had available. I am doing this for a few months for a few reasons. I am not sure what my budget is going to be with everything changing so much right now so I am afraid of signing a one year lease into a place I can't afford. I would like to wait until a small house rental becomes available so the girls have a yard to play in. And, I needed to stop paying so much in gas every week as soon as possible. A&S are in in-home daycare here and walked in like champs today. no clingynes or anything. I was glad to not have 3 hours of my day devoted to being in the car and although my mom probably missed hanging out with the girls, I bet she is glad to not have that extra responsibility every afternoon.


Look, it's 7:17. Traci always liked to look up and note the time if it was 7:17. Its a math geek thing. Because Traci and I met in August, my birthday was the first one we celebrated together. I don't remember what Traci did for me, but I do remember she set the bar realllllllyy high. That July, Traci was taking her last calculus class. She was bummed out that she had an exam on her birthday and that we couldn't take the day and do something fun because she really needed the time to study. So, I decided I would bring the birthday celebration to her. I baked her a strawberry cake parked my car at CSUSB, and walked, cake in hand, to the math building where I thought she would be studying with her classmate. I still remember how surprised she was. And the cake even turned out edible.
Today was better than I thought it might have been. I guess I'm still dealing with shock because I really don't feel much of anything yet. When I got home, my mom and sister-in-law were watching the girls play at the park. I turned on the oven, pulled the funfetti cake mix and strawberry frosting and began baking Traci's cake.Then a short trip to Papa John's and we were having our birthday celebration. The adults had pizza with everything on it, the kids had salami and cheese(yes papa johns has salami on the menu and it is delicious) Then Autumn led us in a wonderful rendition of "happy birthday." She was a little apprehensive about blowing out 28 invisible candles until aunty Val offered to help. A deep breath and a couple of knife slices later and we were all enjoying our cake. I don't know if I will make this a tradition or not, but it was nice for this time.


I have been writing this past week but I haven't felt like sharing it. I have just been trying to process some things. so, rather than leave a blank page, here is another poem I wrote for my
Ethnic studies class.

19 years ago sitting at the edge of the sandbox in a new school I read my books.
Last pick for kickball?
Odd teams
Back to the sandbox. The hardy boys were always good at what they do. Maybe I’m just good at reading.

14 years ago The barn. Face to Face. Man those guys with the shaved heads and wife beater shirts are scary. Greg and Steve content to sit in the back.
I need to feel
the energy of the crowd.
Push forward. Crowd surfing, floating along outstretched hands. Maybe I am beginning to find my place.

9 years ago Wish the air conditioning wasn’t broken. Maybe I should have taken my English class more seriously. At least then I wouldn’t have made my mom cry
when I told her I wouldn’t be walking.
School was a social experiment but I guess I forgot the teachers had other opinions. Maybe I just have to stumble along.

4 years ago I’m going to be a father? I can barely take care of myself Do I have love to give?
I’m going to be
a father.
All the love I have is yours. Fear of the unknown chokes me. One foot forward just like any other step.
Maybe it’s time to mellow out.

Today I’m graduating college. Chemical Engineer, father, husband? Weren’t you in band with plaid pants and a thrift store shirt that said Earl? I’ll still shop at goodwill.
I’m still punk
I guess. How many 27 year olds do you know that are just graduating from college and have two children and a wife?
Maybe I won’t embarrass my daughters too much.


and yesterday almost felt like normal days. The girls played nice and didn't shout at each other. Autumn threw up about 20 minutes ago, but she said her tummy hurt all evening and skipped dinner so I knew it was coming. My greif(by the way i think that is a stupid word to describe what I'm feeling/going through, but I guess mental and physical ninja dropkick donkey kick is too wordy for daily use)is coming on at mostly predictable times and intervals. I am still stressed about money, but whatever. I just have to try and trust that everything will work out. I read a blog from a woman who was a sister missionary in Ohio with me. She as talking about how she knew everything was in God's plan and how beautiful the spirit was in the room where her sister-in-law gave birth to a stillborn son with only a month left in the pregnancy. I am searching for that peace and clarity but it feels like a dark forest I am trying to find my way out of. Two halves of me. One believes that although I can't see it I am being led out on a watched path out into the light. The other, believes that I am lost and alone in the forest with only the shouts of friends and family coming from a distance as my guide.

Stained glass window

He was given a coil of metal and pieces of glass. he crafted shapes, pictures and words from the wire and began cutting the glass and fitting it carefully into the shapes in the wire. He thought the finished product would look perfect when he was done. He could almost see it. less than halfway through, someone came along and brought their own wire and glass and began to show him how her wires and glass fit in with his. He knew someone else might want to help create his picture but he never realized how well the new pieces would fit into the whole. neither persons wires could be distinguished from the other and a new, even grander picture emerged. This new picture was even more complete than the first. Almost every shape had been planned out. It would just take some time to cut the glass and place the pieces. Without warning, someone came to tell him that the friend who had came had left and that the picture had been dashed in. No explanation, he didn't know whether his friend had broken the picture and left or if someone else had smashed it and taken his friend too. The whole frame was not broken and most of the glass that had been set remained. But holes and twisted wires would need to be plucked out and smoothed down. He had seen the finished picture. He should have been able to recall it and complete it himself. But the picture he now saw was changed, incomplete again. The glass could be picked up. And he would begin putting shapes and pictures and words back in the spaces the holes now occupied. I just wish I could see what my picture is supposed to look like now.

Extatic crisis

Ecstatic crisis

Get up. Outside the light dusting of night snow masks the turmoil she sees as she peers through the fog soaked window pane bombs crash exploding in her mind reminding her of the day’s adventure.

Her supposed companion Timex alarm clock has betrayed her trust again. Not even the icy caress of a too hasty shower slows her pace. Lipstick in the purse hair dripping, like a tangled train steaming out of the station. Rush out the door.

Did I let the dog out? Wish I would have grabbed a piece of fruit on the way out. Cars and lights by some miracle yield to her will. Mom? Yeah be there in twenty. Wish she hadn’t sighed like that at the end. How long? Six months, a year?

Airport, there’s always plenty of yellow zones drop ‘em off and get outa here. But they sure make it a lot harder for you to park there.

Running now. Glad she forgot to put on any jewelry and left her purse in the car. She stares back at the annoyed TSA screener as she breezes through the gate without even checking whether the bells sounded, “You are a winner. Please delay your flight by passing through here ten more times until were satisfied the rivets in your jeans aren’t a threat”

The door from the plane sends its mass of bodies tumbling slowly through the opening. Find mom and dad they look better than I do. Slowly almost the last, the tired soldier hobbles down the ramp to her. If it wasn’t for the crutches he’d look exactly like she remembered.

It’s good to be home sis.

It’s good to have you home.

I am going to my in-laws now. It is a 3 hour drive to their house. The girls are already there. I am excited to see everyone but I am scared to be alone in the car for three hours with my thoughts. I seriously entertained the idea of getting a little buzzed before I left but legal and safety negatives aside, when the buzz wears off the problems are always there staring at you on the other side. Just not worth it. I've got all my CDs and the rental car we still have has sirius radio,


As I thought about writing this on the way home from San Diego, the only feelings I had about the one and a half hour drive from or to SD were bad. I really miss Traci during this time. I feel all of the bad grief emotions during these drives. Today I especially seemed to revolve around depressed and self pity but in general I feel a lot of anger or sadness or confusion or.... you get the picture. I try to drown out my own thoughts with either talk radio or music. I need to face reality about talk radio and I. I don't give a flying fairy about politics right now. I don't care what amendments are or aren't passing. I don't care where the illegal aliens are going next or who's money they are spending. I guess that may be why I my thoughts easily wander during the drive. I am too busy wishing they would just shut up to be entertained.
However, as I am finishing up my day and feeling a little bit more reflective, what is actually bad about having an uninterrupted 1.5 hours to explore my feelings? I am going to try and make a more productive use of this pain. Sure it will continue to suck, but maybe this will help me reach more clarity and peace sooner than I would otherwise. Oh, and the cellphone law was a bad idea. until I get a headset, I will be txtng while driving, which is far more dangerous I am sure.