Notes from the Red Bird House

Okay, so I'm sitting here looking at pictures. Not my pictures. No. No. I'm telling you. It always starts and ends with a girl. A pretty girl, if I'm completely honest. Alright. Alright. She's beautiful. It gets me every time. EVERY time. They're amazing. I'm dumbfounded. Thankfully, this one is unavailable otherwise I might be in real trouble. By unavailable I mean truly unavailable, on the-Friends'-Shelf-drinking-vodka-with-Tonya unavailable. Let me just say, it makes it a whole lot easier. I said (as recently as last night) that I was looking for my next Rodeo. All I need is a single or married straight woman. I'm fresh out. The one I spoke of above? She's married and straight, as luck would have it. But she is also not the right kind of unavailable for me. Part of me may wish. She is a delightful distraction. And... Well... Yes. All that. However, I cannot and will not. Therefore, she is not my next Rodeo. Is that more about me than about her?...

Eh... It's not as good as it sounds. 'I dig you'. Good in theory. Questionable when it's actually said to you about you. Especially when you guess you could dig them back but might just prefer not to dig anyone. Not that it isn't cool to be dug. For a second, my stomach did a flippy-flop. Then it went, 'Oh....Wow'. And my brain asked, 'What do I say back?'. Definitely not 'I dig you, too'. It's not good to say things you only half mean or one-third mean, even if it seems like the best and only thing to say. I could look up what I said back (I was more than half asleep at the time), but I really don't want to know how much of an asshole I was. I do know I was an honest asshole because I know I didn't say it back. I think maybe if she was unavailable it would all be different. You see this girl, while an exponential number of miles away (not Portland, Maine like that one time), is definitely available and I'm not sure I'm ...

‎"In the ultimate sense, your marriage has nothing to do with your spouse. It has everything to do with your relationship to Jesus Christ." Um, Alex... I think we're going to need some clarification..... I like Jesus. I do. I promise. I just happen to like God more and I'm sorry for that. And because I like God more, there are somethings I fear I'm never going to understand about Jesus. Like why my relationship with him has more to do with my marriage than my spouse. I'm not married (and maybe that would help), but I don't get it. I want to make it clear that I am a fan of faith. I don't tear down Christians for theirs (even though a lot of it is really murky to me) nor do I speak out against any other religious sect even if their thoughts, beliefs, and ideals run contrary to mine. Plain and simple, faith is faith. God comes to all of us differently. He speaks to each of us in a unique manner. It is up to us to listen and find faith. Who am I to sa...

One fine day when I was about ten (I can't really recall), I decided that I no longer liked vanilla ice cream and root beer. 'Decided' is probably not the right word. I didn't feel that I had much choice. After you throw up an exponential amount of root beer float (made with homemade vanilla ice cream), you're not going to be too keen on either vanilla or root beer. Trust me. So, why is this important right now? It's not. Not really anyway. Of course, it does make it even more noteworthy that I'm drinking very good Venezuelan rum mixed with diet root beer. Yes, the very same root beer (well, the original was most certainly not diet) I threw up all those years ago. I have to say I was incredibly skeptical the first time. I had spent nearly thirty years avoiding root beer. Once I accidentally ate a root beer barrel and almost puked on the spot. Root beer was a no-go. I couldn't even stand the smell. Then a friend mixed me the most heavenly drink. She tol...

'Give me eight seconds. I'll let you keep forever.' ~  Stacee Harris I think the answer to everything is another Rodeo. I said I wouldn't do it again. Ever. I was done, finished, over it. I was going to grow up finally and move on to something real. Yeah, well... I'm done, finished, over that. Real is heartbreaking, ego bursting, and sanity testing. I much prefer a Rodeo. It's a whole lot easier and a lot less decimating. For years, my friends gave me crap about my Rodeos. They said I would never find anything real and lasting if I continued to pursue unavailable women. It was time that I settled down and found someone I could be with for the long haul. I took that under advisement and finally decided that my Rodeo days were done. I was going to find a nice, available girl and fall in love. Eh, not so much. I'm here to tell you that just because they say that they are available, they usually aren't. Of course, you never find this out soon enough. T...

When I was little, I lived on the same street as a witch. She lived past the ditch and around the corner, which could have been China for as often as my sister and I were allowed to stray that far from home. We did, however, go 'that far' on Halloween (with our parents present, of course). And this is how I know I lived on the same street as a witch. I 'met' her one Halloween when she jumped out of nowhere and scared me. My mother thought it was funny. Wanda (that was the witch's name) apologized over and over. You see, she was a teacher's aide or something at the elementary school and I seem to remember my mother and her reminiscing quite often about the time she scared the living shit out of me when I was six. She apologized every time. For scaring me, not for being a witch. Which I always insisted she was. My mom said it was just a costume, but I didn't buy it and slept with a nightlight for a very long time. This is what happens when you make a six yea...

I fear that I may have crossed a line this morning. Just via Face Book message, so it's not like I touched someone in appropriately. However, my words tend to get me in at least as much, if not more, trouble than my hands, etc. One of these days I'm going to learn the art of the non-response. I'll just shut up and not feel the need to contribute my two cents. Because in truth, I rarely contribute only two cents. If I'm going to respond (which is nearly a given, like gravity and sunrise), I'm going to do it to the fullest extent possible. Expect pages and pages and pages. Sure, it'll be applicable; I know how to construct an argument. It just may be more than anyone ever wanted to know on the subject. I truly believe that I have either missed my calling or haven't completely actualized it yet. I should be a preacher or at the very least an editorial columnist (both would be pretty cool). They get paid to expound. And moreover, it's expected of them. Sta...

'But it's something about the way you look tonight Takes my breath away...' ~ from "Something About the Way You Look Tonight" by Elton John I remember where I was and where she was. She came in the room and my eyes followed. I was mesmerized, breathless. 'Who is that? Who is that? And why have we never met before?', I remember thinking. In that moment, the moment I first saw her, I knew I would know her. There was something in her for me. She was beautiful, amazingly so, but there was more. Something reached out to me and held me close. I wasn't sure who she was or who she would be to me, but I knew without a doubt we would be... Something. And we are... Good friends.

I'm a liar. In a way. She texted. She did. First. I swear I had nothing to do with it. It was a simple 'hello' to which I replied the same. Then... nothing. OK, in my last blog I said I didn't want an hour long texting conversation. I'd be cool with 'Hey, how you doing?'. Notice to readers - I wasn't cool with just the one text. Have I texted her again 'unsolicited'? No. I'm holding on pretty well. That I'm texting a beautiful, wonderful, amazing friend has everything to do with my willpower. She is occupying my mind (and my heart) instead of the other. I'm in a good place at the moment, though I will admit I was ecstatic about that one text, so ecstatic I'd really like more. Argh... I'm such a liar. I guess the original purpose of the Text Message was a 'one and out', kind of like the pager. I'm fairly certain no one thought we'd use it for carrying on hours long conversations. So she chose to use text messa...

I said I wasn't going to. And I'm not. If I keep typing, I won't reach for my phone. But... I've been drinking and I'm alone and I'm feeling extraordinarily single. Simplest math? I'm pathetic. And dying to do what I said I wasn't going to do. I have no willpower. Zero. I've texted nearly everyone else under the sun (well, not really... but close) and it's still not out of my system. She isn't out of my system, if I am to speak honestly and directly. I haven't heard from her in days. Of course she hasn't heard from me either. That's probably the problem. I hear from her after  she hears from me; she's a responder, not an initiator. I have to say, it's a nifty pattern that I'm just about sick of. And that's why I said I wasn't going to. Not tonight. I made it through last night thanks to a really long game of pool and the attention of a close friend. I made it through the night before thanks to total exhausti...

A friend of mine is getting married at the end of the month. I'm planning to attend her reception the middle of next month. She's having one of those private Hawaii weddings that require a delayed reception. I'm invited to the reception, but not the wedding. And as much as I'm not a fan of weddings, in this case I'd rather suffer through the wedding. I mean it's in Hawaii and can't possibly take that long. Plus it might be easier to get a date to a wedding in Hawaii than to a reception in Texarkana. You see, when it comes to dates, my world requires 'easier'. Dates don't grow on trees. Well, maybe they do, but they're on the really high branches that I can't reach. Given my fear of heights and all. So, back to my original point (I think)... I have roughly three weeks to come up with a date for this reception. I fear I could have three times as long and still come up empty. I'm honestly tired of showing up 'stag' at these thi...

I'm feeling unusually bitchy today. I may have eaten too many carbs yesterday or I may just be tired of being nice. I'm not sure which. And it really doesn't matter. The result is the same. I'm feeling a blaze coming on and there's nothing I want to do to stop it. Every now and again, inside wants out and today seems to be the day. Trust me, it's seldom pretty. I'm not sure who or what I'm pissed off at. I've been working my ass off (and I have yet to get a 'Thank You' from anyone); I'm homesick (Remind me to never take the 'Best Road Trip Ever' ever again... It'll just make me more homesick); I'm feel fat, bloated, and ugly (It's not nearly close enough to 'That Time of The Month' to use that as an excuse... I'm fat. Get over it); I've had my fill of peace and I'm bored (Sorry, God, I know you warned me); I can't quite figure out whether my low tolerance for boredom comes from my low toleranc...

I've become a pencil person. Once upon a time, I think I was more of a pen person. I wanted to write in indelible ink. I wanted permanence, commitment. I wanted everything to last and never be erased. Eh, it's cool to want all that, but it's also kind of unrealistic. At least in my jaded and cynical mind. I am a true believer in Right Now. Yesterday is a memory and tomorrow is yet to come. There are no guarantees. None. And thank God. Seriously, thank God. Life is good. I assure you of this. I'm cool. Really. Thank God for that. But while you're at it, thank God for a different tomorrow, too. I know this may sound strange coming from me. It almost sounds like I like change, doesn't it? I guess I do. I mean my mother always said you've got to "like it or like it" about all the crap in life you can't change so I guess I've given over to it. You can't change change. Like taxes and sunrise, change is one of life's guarantees. It's...

There are moments in life that tell you (or maybe remind you) that you have arrived. These are the unexpected ego boosts and the seemingly random pumps of your self-esteem. They tell you that others have taken notice and see something in you that you think is rarely, if ever, seen. These moments never fail to put a smile on your face and a spring in your step. Above all, they reassure you that life is definitely worth living. I had three, maybe four, such moments yesterday. 1) 'Oh no... I'm gay and (pointing at me) that's my girlfriend.' OK, so it was just to get some halfway creepy guy away from her, but... Some guy out there thinks that I have a gorgeous girlfriend. And it means that yet another of my straight friends doesn't care what people think. 2) Guy checks hot chick out. His friend sees me walking close behind. Friend says while gesturing in my direction, 'Eh, don't bother'. I took that to mean hot chick is with the lesbian. Which incident...

I'm going 'home' to Texarkana this weekend. And I couldn't be happier that I'm single. No, I'm not going to hook up anyone (well, maybe). I'm simply planning to spend the majority of my time with a bunch of spectacular women. They are beautiful, smart, fun, funny, and cool as Hell. If I had a girlfriend, she'd be jealous, so jealous I'd be miserable all weekend. That's why i t's so much easier being single. You see, just because I find a girlfriend (which is more than someone willing to date me, so truly we are speaking in hypotheticals here), I'm not going to suddenly give up my f riends (which includes a large group of exes I know call 'friends'). We've been friends a long time. In fact, most have been with me a good bit longer than ALL of the girlfriends I've ever had combined. That's only about five years, but it's still a significant point. They have more than my back - they have me, all of me, and I wil...

It was her birthday this week and all I got her was card. So, because she seems to really like these funky little Top Ten lists... Happy Birthday, Tonya. 1) If you walk 4.1 miles on a 96 degree day, rehydrate with one 20 oz. bottle of water, start drinking at 5:05pm, and quickly drink two Ice Picks, you will be drunk by 6:00pm. 2) When you seldom get a real date, you'll call two outings with two pretty girls 'dates' just to make yourself feel better about yourself. 3) If you normally burn dinner when not multi-tasking, it's best to stop writing, playing on the Internet, drinking, and texting while trying to cook. 4) You'll buy a bottle of sweet tea vodka to get you through the weekend, even though you have a nearly new bottle of your favorite rum and plenty of diet root beer to go with it. Because your favorite rum always tastes better with your favorite people. And your favorite people are five hours away. 5) The thought of kissing the girl you have neve...

'It’s the first kiss, it's flawless, really somethin’, it’s fearless.' ~ from "Fearless" by Taylor Swift For the record, I see Taylor Swift much as I see Nicholas Sparks - utterly useless. For the most part. I do like that Sparks novels, however driveling they may be, are often set in coastal North Carolina. And, even though I think that I sing better than Taylor Swift, her lyrics are occasionally lyrical. Like the one above. I very much like the idea of being fearless. I have often been at my best when I've been fearless. I've won tennis matches, run really fast, and kissed exceptionally pretty girls. I have often been at my worst when I've been fearful. I've lost tennis matches, run really crappy, and not kissed exceptionally pretty girls. The moral of this story - fear leads to regret. And regret sucks. Especially when we're talking about not kissing exceptionally pretty girls. With that in mind... One additional lyric... 'An...

For the past week, God has been challenging me to decide what I want. And if not 'decide' per se , at least think about or understand what I want. Several times a day I'd 'hear' Him asking me. I'd stumble and mumble a borderline frustrated, "Damn, I just don't know what to say", so He'd almost immediately give me another chance and ask again. "God, I just don't know. This or that or none of it?", I'd reply. It went on like this for days, over and over and over and over again. "Not this, God. Not this. More, somehow more" But what? But what? I needed an answer so I kept thinking and thinking and digging deeper and deeper. Finally, a fter much soul-searching (literally), I decided. Wh at I want is calm and peace. Neither comes with a name or dollar figure. It's very simple, really. In my soul, I want peace, a peace that comes from within rather than without. It goes beyond contentment and stops short of ecstasy....

I had a dream a few days ago and I just can't shake it. And, really, it's only about thirty seconds of the dream I remember and keep coming back to. I have no idea what preceded it or what came next, if anything at all. I was with a group of maybe three people, supposedly co-workers though I can't name names (really... it's simply something I know. I can't identify any of them. OK, maybe one). As we were about to go our separate ways, we hugged each other, as often do with co-workers. The last person I hugged was a woman who held me closer and longer than expected. She kissed me on the cheek and held me even longer. Suddenly I was drawn to her in a way I'd never been. It wasn't sensual or over- poweringly sexual. It was comfortable. And that's what I can't seem to shake. I have long sought The Connection, The One. I want electricity and magnetism, angels singing and gods smiling. I want to be drawn in and held tightly, but in a way that sets every...

I had three realizations recently - 1) If people don't talk to you, it means they don't want to talk to you. 2) If people don't see you, it means they don't want to see you. and... 3) Just because you don't hear from or see people, doesn't mean they don't think about you. I have spent a lot of time and brainpower analyzing, rationalizing, and making excuses. However, facts are facts and can't be fucked with. People do what they do because something motivates them to do so. If they don't do something, it means they aren't motivated. It's very easy. Speaking personally, I talk to and see the people I want to talk to and see (unless they aren't motivated to talk to or see me) and I don't talk to or see the people don't want to talk to or see. I do admit that there are many people who fall into the "not motivated to talk to or see me category". I contact them one way or the other, either via text, phone, email, o...

I think I may have finally gotten over my impatience. I'm not saying that I've learned patience. I don't think I'm that far along. I'm not even sure I'm moving in that direction. Take it from me - the absence of impatience does not (necessarily) equal patience. I'm not calm and cool with waiting. I've pretty much decided that everything I thought I was waiting for is never going to happen. It's like I've been waiting for a bus that's never going to come. You don't suddenly grow patient with waiting when you finally make this realization. You stop waiting. There's a decisive difference. It's called 'Plan B'. I used to be like a kid on a long car ride with God. Are we there yet? How much longer? Can we stop at McDonald's? I was impatient (and probably a little obnoxious at times). I wanted what I wanted and I wanted it NOW. Sooner than, if given the choice (which I wasn't). I wasn't into waiting. I was impatien...

'What they don't know, What they can't see, Is being on that road that makes me free.' ~ from 'Some Say I'm Running' by Martina McBride Some will say that I'm running. Others will say I didn't give it a chance. Still others will say that I'm never going to find what I'm looking for. Of course I will argue the opposite. And, given that I know me better than anyone else involved in the situation, I'll win. I'm ready to move on. Yes, already. In truth, I was the day I moved here last August. Like Muskegon , Michigan, Texarkana , Texas, something was missing. I could feel it the moment I got here. Not that there's anything wrong with Austin, per se . It's a great and diverse city and most people absolutely love living here. Just not me. I stayed in Muskegon and Texarkana far longer than I should have, nine years and six years respectively. I've learned my lesson on that deal and therefore I won't be Austin very l...

Generally speaking, I'm not shy about what I write. Goodness knows I'll write about anything. Well, almost anything. Occasionally there are times that I just can't write what I want to write. For example, this afternoon... My roommate said, then I said, then she SAID, then I said, then she laughed at me. It would be so much better if I could recount the conversation in its entirety, but alas I cannot. It wouldn't be right. Not that it would be wrong. Better said, it would be potentially embarrassing. For me. And while I'm not usually opposed to calling myself out, I simply don't want to in this case. I've said far too much already and I just can't go there right now.  Maybe on down the road a piece, but not today. That's kind of disappointing for me because it is a funny story and I think I could make something pretty cool out of it. However if I start it, I'll have to finish it. Some parts would of course be left to the reader's imaginatio...

I know I'm drunk when I say the words, 'Fuck you, _______ ___________' (you thought I was actually going to tell you WHO? Riight. I seldom give away my secrets). It's a matter of self-esteem, which apparently comes out in spades when I've been drinking. In truth, we could probably fill in the blank with a few different first and last names or first and middle names or first, middle, and last names (or maybe even just first names). Such is my life. What is it that I said recently, "When I can finally say, 'Fuck you' (and mean it)..., I'm know I on my way back"? I can. Definitely. Suffice it to say, if I was ever under you, I'm over you. It's a good place to be. I'm not sad, nor happy; mad, nor glad. I am just... Me. I can't explain the how it feels to be finally done and over every last one of them. And it's not a rationalization. Which I promise you, it's not. I love my rationalizations and I generally own up to them, ...

I decided a moment ago that 'involve' is a kick-ass word. As in '...can't wait for you to involve yourself with me. And me with you.' Dammit. Where'd that exhaustion go? Suddenly, I'm awake and sober (OK, so sober might be a slight over-statement). Yes, well... All that 'involvement' (also a great word) is many, many, many miles away and available only via text message (at this point) so don't go getting all excited for me. Still, the idea of eventual 'involvement' has me.... awake, if nothing else. Well, kids (and Mom. Lord Jesus... Mom, I hope you stopped reading some time before that last paragraph), I think the technical term is 'Booty Call'. I can't say I'm proud, but I'm no liar. It is what it is. So it's a six hour drive away. Sue me. I've road tripped farther to be 'involved'. Last Fourth of July, for one, if memory serves. Which I know it does. Because I seldom forget weekends like that. I ...

I've been sitting here nearly forty-five minutes trying to write. I should write and I want to write. I had so much fun last Friday night drinking and writing that I wanted to do it again tonight. However, after the week I've had, all I can muster are a few false starts and a bunch of short thoughts that don't amount to much of anything. For example... * I hope the sweet tea I had with dinner (and the sweet tea I'm mixing with my remaining sweet tea flavored vodka) will keep me awake past 8:30. How bad was my week? I've been so exhausted that I've gone to bed before 9:00pm four days in a row. And slept straight through 'til my alarm at 6:00am. * I should probably bag writing for tonight and watch a movie. Something easy, though, and with lots of action. I am far too exhausted to put too much thought into anything. * My lyric for today? From Maroon 5, 'Misery'... 'The way it feels to be... Completely intertwined'. The rest of the song is...