I come here every night.  Sometimes the faces and names change, but for some reason, it always seems familiar.  Perhaps it’s because the routine is always the same; coffee, 2 creams, 4 seconds of sugar out the jar.  I wrap my fingers around the ceramic and embrace the transfer of heat into my fingertips.  It starts off a slow burn, but when it reaches just the right temperature it shifts to a sharp icy sting.  I wonder if I'll ever figure that one out.  I scan the diner, individually focusing on each sound and smell, thus imprinting another memory into my cerebral library.  I take a sip from the mug and get just a little giddy the moment the hot creamy fluid hits my lips.  That quick shot of fiery pain is almost euphoric.  But like any drug, the first hit is always the best.  That's when I reach for my pack.  I treat the box like an origami figure too delicate to man handle by just anyone.  The cellophane slips down the sides like a silk night gown falling off a lover's form.  It crinkles like dry leaves on a cool autumn afternoon.  I carefully pull it back up, ensuring that the next time I go for one I'll get to hear that sound of inviting chaos.  I pull out my first cigarette and examine its form.  Like a straw, it awaits for me to pull in and drink in the nicotine therein.  My Zippo flicks open and the metal clang of the top seems to echo louder than the voices around me.  I drag my thumb against the wheel and all my senses go into overdrive.  I'm about to bring about great destruction.  I move the flame up to the open end of my cigarette and listen for the slow hiss of that first drag.  Breathe in deep, breathe out deep.  It's the same sigh you hear at those peer counseling groups after those preliminary introductions; Hi my name is addiction.  I squeeze in vain against the coffee cup in hopes that the heat in both my hands might take over and consume me, but they never do.  I take another drag.  I watch the pumpkin ring glowing on the tip trying to reach some kind of imaginary finish line.  Just before it is a pea sized mass of orange, black, white and grey.  People call it a cherry, but frankly I don't see the connection.  At any rate, I wouldn't eat a cherry looking like that.  That's when I notice it.  The smoke.  I feel almost hypnotized by it billowing from the ashened mass.  It flies around wildly looking for somewhere to occupy itself.  As I blow out I notice that the smoke has two shades, one ivory, one magnolia.  And that's where the megalomania sets in.  I begin to think about the origins of this cigarette.  The sum of all its parts; paper, cotton, tobacco.  The paper of course coming from trees while the cotton and tobacco are free roaming.  Okay, so maybe they were farm raised, but let’s put semantics aside for now.  None the less, these elements all came from living organisms.  Carbon based life.  Could these plants, these living creatures of the soil have had a soul?  The thought is almost frightening as another plume of smoke escapes my lips as fluid as the coffee I indulge myself with.  Could that frantic wisp of smoke be the souls of plants that once were allowed to live free before they were destroyed to create a false sense of desire?  And what of the smoke I squeezed out from my lungs?  Maybe I gave those wondering souls a purpose, I made them part of my being, only to blow them asunder like a ship in a storm.  I watch the smoke drift into the air and disappear under the hanging lights of the café.  That glowing ring still burns.  I watch it trickle down the barrel until it hits the print “Turkish Gold.”  I see those tiny little letters scorch into the ash, preserving in the wake of the flame before they tumble off the end into dust.  I finally reach the end.  My nicotine fix is about to expire.  All that’s left is a skewed mass of cotton and paper with a tiny ember lingering on.  I grind the butt into the pressed metal ashtray and hear that finally hiss.  That last plea for mercy.  The smoke dancing more erratically than ever.  Then nothing.  Just a darkened patch sure to be wiped clean before the end of the night.  All that remains is this withered corpse of a 5 minute craving.  And there you have it.  This great metaphor for life; creation through destruction.  Well, I see the destruction, but what have I created?  Nothing more than some hole in the back of my mind.  Perhaps the price I have paid for playing God.  Manipulating souls for personal gain.  A void that may never be filled.  A lust for destruction.  I take one last sip from the cup and pay my tab.  I need my rest.  If for only five minutes, I played God and found myself utterly weary.  I want nothing more than to lay my head down on that cool fabric of my pillow and drift into slumber.  Tumbling into the night like the dust and ash from those lost souls at the diner.  Maybe tomorrow will be different.  Maybe the diner will be closed or my car will break down and I won’t be able to go back.  Who knows?  All I know is I’ve reached my seventh day.   

Cry your ocean of pity. Twist the strands of your web. Build the foundation of fallacies from which your life rests upon. But just know this.... Hubris will be your downfall Ulysses.

Dude, if money troubles aren't bad enough, try having them when you DIDN'T fuck up this time.


I just found out my cell bill is 111.12

Usually it's between 40 some and 50 some a month.  Not bad.  I paid the last payment of 52.95 and received not one but  two confirmation notices of payment.  BUT now it's saying it's past due and I own them 58. 17 on top of the 52.95 that I already paid. 


Seriously

FUCK BILLS WITH A SKABEY DILDO!!!!

Red and delicious
Bitter yet sweet
Your juices drip down my lips
and onto the streets

You are the gift
You are the curse
Your lingering taste
just makes it worse

Fallen from tree
fallen from grace
left here by God
in an unwanted place

Pierce with your eyes
pierce with your tongue
Indulgence of you
seems anything but wrong

Red and delicious
Bitter yet sweet
plucked from your branch
and taste of defeat

Hello past.
Hello future.  How will you be?
Well that's for you to decide isn't it?  How were you once?
Wait, what do I have to do with it?
Well, thank you.  But that story is developing.  And what you have to do with it is everything. You become me.
You give me life.
With out you we are nothing.
Don't you have that backwards?
How do you mean?
With out you I wouldn't be here.  You were me just now.
Was I?
I am now what you once were and in just a second I will be you and then I am nothing.
Now you are starting to understand.
What do you mean?
If you know what you were, you just might have a chance of realizing what you will be.


yoTurAseLveKs




































p.s.  I might be high?.....or Sentry?  I dunno

Trust is an important thing in a relationship.  Some would say that it's the most important thing.  Without it, everything comes crashing down.  Some people think that if they lie then they're protecting someone else's feelings.  And that lying as a form of protection is noble or even justified.  Perhaps.  Then again, perhaps not.  It is quite the precarious predicament if I do say so myself.  Yet still we must learn to make the right decision; we must learn how to measure the greater good.  Because sometimes, when you do lie, it hurts those around you more so than telling the truth ever would. 

Have the decency
Have the respect
and have the balls to tell the truth to the ones you love and to the ones that love you folks. 

They don't come around but so often, so hold on to them while you can before they're gone and you're left standing alone.

Just thought I should say that.

Like my future had something to do with it.

Disclaimer

Read before "Unrequited"

Before anyone flies off the deep end about what I just wrote, let it be known that it was a retrospective look into my past with some unidentified examples scattered here and there.  It was not aimed at anyone in particular, just something I was thinking about that I thought me readers, however few and far between they may be, might appreciate and in turn think about themselves.  I aimed for a non-biased.  Forgive me if I come up wanting.

Thank you

X

Unrequited

I've been talking to myself since I got home an hour ago.  I've been staring at my right wrist and pondering the meaning of everything.  I don't know if I can even begin to really put my thoughts down as cohesively as I thought, but I'll try in hopes I can clear my head of these uncertainties. 

Why is it that we choose to linger?  Why do the pessimists hope when there is no future to look forward to?  Why must we pine over that which is lost to us?  Is it in hopes of one day that thing we so long for will someway, somehow, return to us?  Forgive me if I seem brash, perhaps even pretentious, but why don't you just get over it?  Why do you fear change? 

I know I must sound rather foolish, what with my modus operandi being that of a forgiving personality.  Far be it from me to judge those seeking a second chance.  I know I have, in my day, worked for atonement on many occasion.  But I too have also learned to move on.  Painful as the journey may be, I have learned and taken those steps before. 

But I suppose there will always be someone who lingers on in our hearts, burning away the tissue.  Someone who, without the aid of another love, would most assuredly leave a chasm inside us that can never be healed or filled due to the extent of the scar tissue their remnants has left behind.  Thus increasing the already formidable percentage of our soul-selves that we leave censored to the outside world.  Much like the percentage of our minds we supposedly never use.  

 

It's not like I don't fully believe in such a notion, it's just that I think this principle applies with as much merit in the extroversive as it does the introversive.  I believe every acquaintance and confidant that we accrue will only, at best, learn eighty percent of our self.  The other twenty percent is left of a select few.  These things only a loved one could know.  And I speak not only of those things that should not be done in glass houses, but the subtle nuances of who we are.  I suppose, as we share these things with our loved ones, we in turn, loose apart of our identity with that person.  In that respect I can see why one would want to retrieve such a treasure.  If I could begin to fathom why we, as rational sentient beings would do such a thing, then perhaps I wouldn't have to go on.  But, alas, that is not the case.

 

Is it because we see these people as worthy, or maybe deserving of this knowledge?  Or is it because we can not contain ourselves to the confines of our minds simply because we know it as said confine that can not be escaped alone?  

 

At this point you might be fuming and asking me, "How dare you?"  And you are right, how dare I?  I too have been so foolish before and I still pay for that mistake.  I know there will always be someone who makes a relatively small body of water seem bigger than the universe in your eyes.  Someone who will always be the girl "next door".  Someone who will seem like the zenith of your life because they were the first to experience you in intimate embrace.  There will always be someone who makes you feel like they are the only person who could love you; that you could never find this passion and desire anywhere else.  There will always be that one person who you seemed to fall in love with every day.  At least that's how it seems.

 

I suppose, if only to prevent any further rambling, that the only reason we fear change is that we have given too much up at once and fell as though we can't get it back.  We fear to pledge our love to anyone else, after the fact, simply because we have given without return.  There is no shame from that.  But if life has taught me anything, it is that while the moon will still glow bright in the evening sky, the sun too will rise.  If we hide from tomorrow, we shall never appreciate today.  And if we don't attempt to embrace change, we will surely be suffocated under the weight of stagnancy.  Perhaps time is all we have to aid us in conquering the seemingly unconquerable, but let that not be an excuse for blinding yourself from what lay in front of you.

 

I've spoken what I could and with that I bid you all farewell. 

After utterly failing to finish a short film tonight happenstance found me talking with my dad and grocery shopping at Walmart.  And, as the title of this blog demonstrates, something strange happened.  We spoke of me moving out and my feelings about being at home and for the first time ever, he was actually supportive of me.  We talked for a while and I could hear in his voice and tell by the look on his face that he honestly believed in me and what I had to say.  Yeah, while I intend to move out soon, I know I'll need to budget and work out the financial ins and outs of this move before I even attempt to do so. 

It's nice having at least someone in my family who has my back.

You know what sucks?

Direct Loan bills
car payments
car insurance
medical copay
tuition repayments
$15 hookers off Jeff Davis on Fridays
owing money to friends
paying rent in your parent's house
when people don't pull their own weight
credit cards
credit lines
sleep Apnea
cell phone bills
being asked the same question repeatedly after you already said you'd let the other person know when you get an answer
Technically being single
Not having a legal drinking buddy
Helping people who don't appreciate it
psychos
vacuums


Yeah, I said vacuums.  What of it?

Now I'm going to drink some coke and count the days till I see her again.

PEACE!




P.S. 2 girls 1 cup...................you know!

So, show of hands, who's heard me bitch and complain about loneliness?  Ok, but you hands down.  Alright, now who's heard me complain about thinking I wasn't good enough for anyone?  Ok, hands down.  Now, who's heard me say I wanted to free the seals at the aquarium?  No one?  Hmmm, (thought I told at least one of you about that...) oh well.  ANYWAY, all that has come to a halt.  See, normally, I'd be all like, fuck bitches and shit 'cause I couldn't muster the gumption to take action.







NOT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!

For some reason my confidence level has spiked as of the last couple of weeks and I think I'll actually have some luck in the near future and even if I don't, for some reason, I think I'll be fine.  Strange how that works, right?  Oh well, thought I'd mention it if anyone's reading.


Aight Y'all

Peace

X

And now would be a good time.

I walked in the park today.....alone.
And I reminisced about the days of yore.
I had some great moments in my day.  Fleeting, but great.
I came to the solid realization that I can not stay in one place for too long.
I seem to push so many people away when I stick around.  Even if I don't mean to.
I don't want to do that.
I want peace in my mind again.


I watched the sun set and it looked like a red stop light.  Just hanging there in the sky and I thought to myself, it's like the Heavens are pleading with Time to stop.  Pleading so desperately as the horizon and the tree tops drag it slowly under.   And for someone who often embraces the night, I was rooting for the sun this time. 

I miss him.  I miss her.  But what can I do when even the sun looses in a plea bargain?

Yes I do try.  But maybe I've been going about it all wrong. 

Ultimately I don't know where my foot should land come this next step so I'll play the balancing act and hope I don't fall flat on my face.

Here's to.....whatever it is you think is worth celebrating.  I'm too tired to think right now.

X out.

And now I have the rage virus.  My left eye looks all bloody and what not.  Kinda gross.  It's also causing me somewhat of a headache which equally sucks.  And now I have a nice big red streak on my right eye.  Can't really explain that one, but oh well.  I look evil.  Fear me and taste my wrath and such.   [turn face camera stage left] [turn face to audience] Yeah that's about it I guess.  I'm a zombie of sorts.

So here I am.  One more day till the wedding.  And so I sit and reflect as I usually do.  And I've decided I'm pretty much tired of everything.  I have no one I can rant to.  I've got no one I can confide in because NO ONE has taken me up on the offer.  So here it is for everyone to fucking see.  I am pissed off.


I'm tired of being alone and not doing anything to deserve being alone.
I'm tired of girls who ask me for advice on how to get guys who'll fucking use them when they've got a perfectly good guy right in front of them .
I'm tired of having to read people's minds and failing.
I'm tired of being caught in the middle of shit I don't want to be apart of.
I'm tired of being blamed for things that aren't my fault.
I'm tired of people telling me to look on the bright side and to be positive.  I've played that game and I'm sick of it.
I'm tired of people telling me to wait.
I'm tired of being the only person standing out .
I'm tired of being a fifth wheel.
I'm tired of throwing parties where I'm the only one not getting any.
I'm tired of being looked down on because I think like this.
I'm tired of judging me.
I'm tired of people being shallow but saying looks don't matter.
I'm tired of not looking good.
I'm tired of this self-hate.
I'm tired of the indifference in people.
I'm tired of ignorance.
I'm tired of doubt.
I'm tired of coming close.
I'm tired of coming up short.
I'm tired of having no one to say good night to.
I'm tired of having no one to tell secrets to.
I'm tired of an empty bed.
I'm tired of silent phone.
I'm tired of this heavy heart.
I'm tired of turning my back on love or the possibility of love because of superficial beliefs.
I'm tired of all the silence.
I'm just tired and I'm pretty much done.



Say what you will.  Bitch me out.  Tell me I'm being selfish.  Tell me I'm acting like a child.  Bad mouth me all you want.  You're only proving my point.

I don't fit.  I think that about sums up all this, these past 21 years.  This romp through "childhood" adolescence and adulthood.  I just don't fit and I should deal.




Oh well, wonder what's outside these walls anyway....

Why do relationships bug me so?  I guess it's because you do the right thing expecting some kind of outcome and end up empty handed.  I guess you can say that about alot of things.  But for me, at the moment, it's relationships.  It's like the girls I want to see, don't want to see me, and the girls that do, well, there's always a catch involved.  Even if they don't know it.  And I think about what I do for fun.  What I do to pass the time and I realize that there's pretty much no one else who could appreciate it the way I'd like it to be appreciated.  Whether it's sitting on the grass and watching life cycling on, or conversation over a cup of Waffle house coffee at 2:30  in the morning, or just a drive on a summer afternoon with no set destination, only a spot worth stopping to admire.  You'd think, "Oh hey, he's 21.  I bet he likes to get hammered!"  Or, "he's in college, I bet he knows some awesome parties" or some other stupid shit.  It's just not me.  I can drink, but I don't necessarily get drunk.  I can party, but I'm not crazy.  I'm a mellow sort of person and it seems like everyone wants an extreme.  You know, significantly older women could appreciate the things I do, but not the people my age.  They think I'm boring.  Or if the girls a year or so older, than I'm not mature enough yet to be as reckless and stupid as a 25 year old (No offense to 25 year olds).  It's hard to classify me by my personality, but it's alot easier to classify me on looks, and as you can see, I've got a strike or two against me, so what now? 

                                                                                    

It's like I'm a 45 year old trapped in a 21 year old's body.  **sigh** Oh well

Is there no such thing as privacy anymore?  I ranted about how girls get guys who act different when it's just the two of them and they do.  It's hard to tell if someone is lying or if they just aren't that comfortable being themselves to everyone.  I know.  But privacy.  Does it still exist?  We get online and write all this shit we don't want anyone to know about yet leave it open to the fucking world as if some perfect fucking stranger is going to come along and save you, whisk you off your feet or some shit.  Everyone has secrets.  Everyone has a personal life that they share with those they want to share it with.  (And for the record, there's a difference between a secret and a lie people)  Some secrets aren't that great but you keep them because they make you feel unique.  Special.  But what happens when someone breaks that down?  Breaks down your fucking comfort zone because what they want is so much more important than what you want?  For example, mail.  It's a federal offense to open mail that isn't addressed to you.  So is it cool when someone you live with opens your shit without asking?  Even family?  What gives them the right?  They want to know?  THEN FUCKING ASK DAMNIT!!!!!!  Why won't you talk to us?  BECAUSE YOU WANT TO FIND OUT SHIT BEHIND MY BACK BEFORE YOU GET TO ME!!!!  WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I TELL YOU ANYTHING AT THIS POINT!?!?!?!?!?!?  And it doesn't matter what kind of mail it is, that fact that it was information for you and no one else should be enough and you should respect that.  But if I can't get it with something as mundane as fucking mail, then why should you get respect with ANYTHING at all?  When the fuck did I slip back into this rut?  Things were going so well, then I came home.












**scoff** What is home anyway?                 

The one good thing about loneliness is that it gives you plenty of time to think.  Sure you run the risk of filling yourself with delusions, but hey, to thyne own self be true, right?  Well, I've looked back on romance over the past few decades and things have changed.  Yes we have become more jaded and as a result we've become more superficial.  But not necessarily in the old fashioned way.  If you don’t “look” deep, you probably aren’t.  You need cut marks, or an edgy look.  You need to wear makeup and have poetry all over the internet to be cool.  If you can’t come off as brilliant online, then essentially you’re screwed.  You take the most off-the-wall looking guy and have him say something so obvious and outside his side swoosh that even though to the average person what he says seems cliché, to the online reader, he’s “deep” and “insightful”.  I mean, when did “non-conformity” become commonplace?  Is there such a thing anymore?

                                                                      

  Take MySpace for example.  Back in the day you could meet someone while you were out, get to know them in person and have an honest relationship outside of your computer room.  But now......you meet someone online and they spew out this neo-romantic, scene kid garbage and girls eat it up.  I mean, because in real life the guys they go after are blatant assholes and you wander what the FUCK does she see in him?  Then you hear, "oh, but when it's just us" or "when we're online..."  I mean, really.  If you can't be yourself when you're out in the real world, then who the hell are you anyway?  And for that matter ladies, how do you know what you've got isn't just a lie?  Here's some advice; stop posing, put down the camera, step away from the computer, pick up the phone or just go out and be real with someone.  You'd be surprised at what you find out there. 

After all, it's something to do.

2 years ago seems like a lifetime ago.  2 years ago I was someone worth knowing.  2 years ago I was me. 
1 year ago I hit a wall. 1 year ago I made a choice.  1 year ago I made a mistake.
5 days ago I snapped.  5 days ago I let go.  5 days ago I became a monster in my own eyes.

I've never once blew up in front of any of my friends before.  They kept me centered.  They were are my love outside of home.  But that's because all the frustration I had or have never really finds its way to them.  They don't need it, and neither do I.  I've dealt with it in my own way on my own time.  Been through enough drama to know never bring it to the table.  But for some reason I let it out.  Apparently it scared some people that I really care about.  And as much as I do have the right to be angry, upset, frustrated at times, I had no right taking it out on them.  They've done their best by me, and I've tried to do my best by them.  But I am only human.





Getting to the point....
Before that God awful mistake just over half a year ago, someone dear to me told me that they thought I was depressed.  They said they could see it in my smile.  I didn't want to believe it.  I still don't, not really at least.  But the fact is, she was right.  I've always put pressure on myself because I know I work best under those conditions.  If things were ever smooth I'd probably loose it.  So the people who've gotten close with me over this past year have gotten to know the side of me when I was most under pressure.  When I was on point.  But now things have changed, and to be honest, it hasn't all been good.  In fact, most of my life has done a complete 180.  Before I fought with my parents.  I spent almost all my time with my friends.  Now I spend more time, enjoyable time, with my family and I kinda don't want to see anyone else.  Before, you had me if you needed me and 9 times out of 10 when you wanted me.  Now, well, lets just say the odds have changed.  And I wonder why that is.  I guess I'm trying to find that place I left 2 years ago.  I had my pressure, but I had balance.  I lost that balance and now when I'm trying to get it back, it seems like little things keep throwing me off.  Not to say that friends are little things, it's just, certain situations involving friends have thrown me off.  Situations I used to be able to handle.  But back then, I didn't want to go back.  And really, it's never a good idea to step backwards.  But in this case it's like getting back on the road when you've just swerved into a ditch.  I wish it  were easier to tell someone that you just need to not see them for awhile because you think that part of your problems involve knowing them.  Because you don't want to tell them that because you don't want to believe it.  You don't want to tell someone you were happier before you met them because it's not exactly true.  It's like I'm trying to understand the concept of black but stuck in gray.  My friends didn't wrong me.  And while they disagree, I didn't mean to wrong them.  In fact I didn't think I was wronging them in the first place.  Things were said.  Actions were taken.  Tempers flared and people were hurt.  But it happens. 

I once told a great person that life was like a puzzle and that every person you meet will end up as a piece to that puzzle.  I told them never disregard a piece, because they will help shape the masterpiece of you life when all is said and done.  I still believe that, and I hope they do too.  I can't take back what I did.  I can't take back what I said.  I can't erase the memories and I sure as Hell don't want to.  So I close with these last words....

If it's true that time heals all wounds, then I hope the clock will still tick for us.  If it's true that you never really loose the ones you love, then let our love for each other be as true as can be.  And if you can find it in your heart to understand and forgive me for what I may be now and what I'm trying to be, then please continue the search.  You have no reason to, and I don't blame you for not trying, but know this; who I was needs who I am to be who I want to be again.  Just know that much.  You honestly did deserve better of me anyway.

You know, I haven't really thought about girls for a while now.  I guess I've been so stressed that I really didn't need all that in my life.  But now things are starting to look up and I'm actually scared.  I'm afraid that I'll do just fine and that's the worst fear of all.  You're just so used to failure that you almost run from the one thing that will bring you up.  While my business life is going well, I can't help but feel as though my personal life is lacking in something.  Something my professional side seems to be hindering.  I feel bad because while I'm forced to blow people off, or make choices that end up pissing others off just for the sake of not trying to screw up, I want someone who wants me.  Someone I could talk to.  I found myself at a carnival tonight.  They never showed.  I wish they did.  I could have made it up to them.  But I was at the carnival with a friend of mine.  Just a friend and I told her, "I waste romance on the people who don't appreciate it."  Sure I've got a buddy who I could talk to about all the crazy shit in life.  But there's stuff I can't and wouldn't do with him because he's one of my "boys".  I hope he had a great birthday today and I'm sorry I had to split, but I really do want to keep this job.  But anyway, the point is, he still has her.  In a way they're still together and he has that.  I want that.  That someone who you can spend time with like that.  Someone who cares enough about you to argue with you.  Someone just for me.  I want that. 







But you can't always get what you want.  Isn't that what the song says?

What you're about to read is an apology to the masses.

I left school last fall in the month of October. I did it for change. I did it to be better. It was a mistake. I found work in all the wrong places, but made great friends in the process. I found opportunity in a place I like to call my second home. I left town. I returned a new man. A changed man. A responsible, less naïve, more mature, more of a fun loving guy. But yet still I returned to chaos. Beggars with their hands out. People wondering if I was going to pay up. I obliged and continued with something like normal. I worked for a bit. But the old ways slowly worked their way back and I was caught between reckless and responsible. Some would say the choice that lay between the two is an easy one, but you would be surprised when caught in the crossfire. So I made one choice that meant sacrificing another, just to do the right thing. I made another choice just so I could accommodate everyone. Truly a fool's dream. I've ignored, blown off, and down right shunned some of the people I would never want to loose but you have to understand, this "thing" is new to me. This balance is riddled with instability and yet somehow "I" am okay. It does not change the fact that I still must deal with "penciling" people into my life. I most certainly do not wish to erase them. So to anyone I've wronged since my return, my sincerest apologies. I try to do what I can when I can. It doesn't always mean I do it right. To everyone I've lost sight of, I will try to change that and I hope that by summer I will have gotten a chance to spend time with you all at least once before the next big step, that being going back to school. Again, I am sorry.