Fuck 2010

I'm already done with this year and it's only November. This is a year that had me in the hospital on my birthday, that watched me cry over my cat as he grew old and finally passed away.

I will say that I am very grateful that everyone I love is well and healthy, and that my marriage kicks so much ass. Bring on 2011. It starts now.

Tonight

ME: Statement redacted.
ADAM: Do they give you sheep to fuck?

Thinner

Thinking about Oliver

I miss my kit-kat so much. I think about him every day. It still doesn't seem right that his food bowls are not on the floor, that he's not curled up in bed with us at night. Things just haven't been right since he left.

Words to paper

I've been writing lately. A ton. That doesn't necessarily mean pages and pages, though there are pages, just not as many as a ton might connote, and does this sentence even make sense? I'm writing well, I think, good stuff.

That's important. That's so important. If I didn't write, I'd go crazy. If I couldn't communicate, I'd chew my own fist off. A professor of mine once said: "I write to communicate", and sure enough, Wesley was right. I just want to get that chance.

Now playing

Step out the front door
Like a ghost
Into the fog
Where no one notices the contrast
Of white on white

Anniversary

Six years ago, I began something that continues strong through this day and -- fingers crossed -- far into the future. It's appropriate that I'm sitting at Philz Coffee right now, the place where we got married when it was still Cafe de la Paz.

I love you, baby. You see me at my worst and inspire me to be my best. Thank you.