Esoteric Bowl

Lisa has a baby boy! Baby Tyler was born last night at 10:35, weighing in at 5lb 6oz. It’s reported that Tyler, Mom, and Dad are all happy and well. This is fantastic news.

This morning when I read that Lisa had been admitted to the hospital on Monday morning in pre-term labor, I felt concern for her and baby. Although baby was at 32 weeks, 5lb 6oz does sound like a reasonable weight. Thankfully, Lisa and Tyler are doing fine.

I’m glad that Lisa’s mom updated Lisa’s journal to let everyone know the good news. If you want to visit Lisa’s journal to send her good wishes, go here.

It’s been a while in between posts. I don’t know what’s up with that, but thus far in 2005 I’ve been rather inconsistent when it comes to writing. It happens on occasion, although I’m unsure what has brought about this latest bout of writer’s block. Perhaps it has something to do with the post new year’s blues. Or maybe that prolonged cold threw my mojo out of balance. I suppose it’s possible that the cold medications temporarily numbed my brain.

It’s not as if I don’t have thoughts to express or memories to share, but when I settle in at the keyboard to write I usually have an idea of where I’m going. I admire those that can just sit at the keyboard and start typing. For me, I’m most comfortable when the creative gears have been in motion for a while. Generally my thought process is swirling with possible ideas and various phrases and sentences, providing form in constructing what it is that I want to express. And while my writing process primarily involves abstract thought, the seeds of that writing often sprout within the mixture of conscious and unconscious thoughts. Lately though, I haven’t had many seeds and the soil feels rather barren.

When the creativity is lacking and the posts become far and few between, there comes a time to force myself to write. On such occasions the words often look foreign and misspelled, and I tend to ramble without ever saying anything. Still, I’m hoping the process will plant a few seeds.

I died right the first time
Truth in word and scars
Knocked on a night sky
An echo shook the stars
Prayed with incense burning
Pockets full of charms
Made love to an angel
then she died in my arms

In silent moments yearning
Between golden whispers
and transient glances
I think of what might have been

I died right the first time
Wings and dreams disjointed
Infernal stones of blame are thrown
for drowning in a pool of strife
Extended index fingers pointed
to the charge of a wasted life.

Today is my birthday. I’m very excited about this birthday because I’ve finally reached the legal age to drink alcohol. Okay, so I’m a little older than that. Actually, I’m a lot older than that, but who’s counting?

Birthday’s were always fun as a child. Mom and Dad would always make the day feel special, and Mom would always bake a cake and decorate it with a cool frosting theme. While birthday’s aren’t nearly as exciting in adulthood, they can still be fun, and this one has started off well.

I don’t have anything special planned for the day, but tonight I have to pretend to be surprised at the surprise birthday party that is being thrown in my honor by Wilson and all the other neighborhood cats. You might say that someone let the cat out of the bag about the party.

No birthday would be complete without thanking Mom & Dad for the gift of life. And special thanks to Mom for enduring the pain that only a giant-sized baby can bring. Happy Birthing Day!

Somewhere around the last week of 2004, I caught a cold. I tried my best to ward off the sickness with orange juice and positive thoughts, but it didn’t work this time. There were many days when I felt as if I had shaken the cold, but soon the symptoms would return.

Here we are in mid January, and only now do I feel as if the worse part of the sickness is behind me. Thankfully the cold hasn’t been one of incessant coughing or runny nose. Instead, the symptoms are more of a blockage within my head, where my ears and sinuses feel plugged.

I may be wrong, but it’s my conclusion that it’s a sinus infection. I’ve been taking loads of aspirin, drinking lots of fluids, and getting plenty of rest. The rest part has been aided by Liquid Nyquil. While the Liquid Nyquil does have a way of knocking me out, it also has a way of leaving me in somewhat of a cloud after I wake. I tried the Nyquil capsules, but they don’t seem to have the same sleep-induced effect. Out of curiosity, I bit one of the Nyquil capsules to see if the liquid inside was the same as Liquid Nyquil; trust me on this one, it’s not.

Although I’ve been out of action for a while and haven’t been doing the blog thing, I’ve still been wearing my thinking cap. Here are a few ideas that have recently come to mind. Just remember, most of the thoughts were induced while under the influence of Liquid Nyquil.

* Criteria to be a pop-star should include the ability to sing.

* Pharmaceutical companies should no longer be permitted to advertise.

* Individuals watching more than one reality show per week should be required to wear a funny hat so that the rest of us can see you coming.

* Identification cards for all military personnel should have an access code which allows for unlimited free phone calls.

* All football half-time shows should be limited to marching bands and baton twirlers.

* The position of President of the United States should once again be a full-time job.

* All insurance companies should be regulated, and mandatory policies must be made affordable.

* Driving and talking on a cell phone should be a fineable offense.

* Before inventing another fake “crisis”, the government must first finish the job with the last fake crisis.

Shortly after learning that “we” were pregnant, we decided to sign up for Lamaze classes. At the time, expectant fathers had to be Lamaze graduates if they wanted to witness the birth of their child.

We attended each weekly class, and in between we practiced the exercises at home. Following the nightly exercises, we would lay next to each other on the living room carpet, she on her back and me on my side. I would stroke and pat her tummy and talk to our child. I always used my best calming voice, repeating “It’s alright, it’s okay.” For the most part, it didn’t really matter much whether baby could understand me, as it was always a nice quiet time for us to share. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if baby was listening to what was being said.

Soon after baby Steffen was born he was crying because that’s what babies do. I picked him up in my arms and softly patted his back. Hoping to provide some comfort and reassurance, I repeated the words, “It’s alright, it’s okay.” He slowly bobbed his head upward towards my face as if wanting to see where the voice was coming from. He then paused and stared at me with a fixed gaze as if he were having his first deja vu moment.

God no longer answers prayer,
and Satan won’t buy souls anymore;
It’s not that He doesn’t care,
but God no longer answers prayer;
I’ve got to do my share
to open my own damn door;
For God no longer answers prayer,
and Satan won’t buy souls anymore.