well

I can hear you talking, but it's like you're far away.it's like I'm inside my head, but there's this thick wall around my consciousness.  I can see you talking, and hear the sound, but it makes less and less sense. It is harder and harder to focus.  To grasp simple concepts.  I retreat farther and farther inside myself and I am still lost.

hi

Castle Rock Observatory

Dragonfly

I go it alone because I have to.
I go it alone because you left me behind.
I go it alone because I have no other option.
Because maybe one day you'll see my hurt, and turn around.
I go it alone.

Rocks of a Feather

No man is an island, or so they say. But a group of rocks in a sea of shyte is close enough. In the last few days I have struggled to force the clouds out and find something to write about. Today was easier. I am going to write about what I know best; me and my friends, and why they are such.
First off, I only really have either best friends or aquaintances. There Isn't much of a gray area to speak of. Secondly I am not referring to a group of friends in as much the people who have become my family without blood.
In all their vast differences there are some things that are the same throughout. All of them have in some way or another touched my life in a way that is more profound than the other passers by in my life. Encouraging when I am at my lowest. Next to me to celebrate. One enduring characteristic it seems, is that they, (and I'd like to think myself as well), are all what I would classify as emotional and mental rocks for at least someone in their lives. Right now life as I know it may be about to drastically change. And I may be leaned on a little more than I ever have. The thing is, I know my friends will help me through. I've heard many people say that, but this is something I know to be true. I believe I have good friends because they know that I would do anything for them. I know I have good friends because they have been there. They are special and I love them. Call me cheeseball if you will, but its because of them that I'm even attempting to write again.
Thanks for telling me to write the shit, Allison, this one may actually be good.

Tourettes of the Mothering Kind

I can't believe that spewed from my face. Last night Miguel got a little too liberal with his jokes and our son. By almost 8:00 p.m. Phoenix was well out of hand and it was time for bed. We had been joking back and forth to try and ease the tension. I asked him to help Phoenix brush his teeth. He obliges, but his humor went a little too far. He begins with the I'm sorry, it was a joke and starts walking my way when the following gem spews forth from my vocal chords: " Come any closer and I am going to rip your balls off through your mouth". I think the more horrifying part was that I was now laughing hysterically at the look on his face. Then I nearly peed when I noticed he indeed was protecting his bits.
Well, it's a short one, but it is indeed what I was thinking at 9:00 p.m. tonight. It may even be close to grammatically correct. More tomorrow.

So I didn't make it to my deadline last night, but I do have a couple of good reasons. try one on for size and choose the one to your liking. the first is that at nine p.m. I was thinking about cleaning toilets. I didn't find this to be good blog fodder. Secondly, I had one of those "why do I know the sky is about to open up and piss on my face feelings?" I found out why at nearly midnight, right about when I was about to sit down and blog about being only three hours late.
I hate when my phone rings after 11:00 p.m.. and it is not Allison or Cara. Not because I'm crotchety and asleep. to the contrary I'm often wide awake playing xbox. Allison works graveyard and Cara just likes to call when she's coming through town and wants to blow by. Anyone else is calling because there is a problem, and if it's Mike's phone, it's nearly unheard of. So when his phone rang and flashed "mom and dad" I knew this would probably suck. It was the right weather forecast, wrong face. Right in the middle of my blissfully ignorant American Dad coma were words like chemotherapy and radiation. Fuck. They are optimistic. This is not my first rodeo. Doctors do not move that fast without reason. have you ever spent less than four hours in an emergency room? He is going to hurt, and I do not know how to help him.

Dissecting the Lynn

Why do I suck? I find myself asking this question often these days. So I think I am going to try and figure out exactly that. At present I am not sure how to do that. It seems I am stuck in this rut of continuing blah. So I am going to have to force myself to do something, anything. I guess my problem is that I never suffered from a lack of impetus. All of the sudden it hits like a ton of bricks that my kid is 4 years old, and he doesn't have a mother that he can be really proud of. What have I done with my life? Why did I end up here, with no motivation to do anything but take care of him and his dad. Am I some strange traditionalist content with having dinner ready at 5:00 and playing with Legos? It's looking like it today. But it didn't look like that ten years ago, or at least I didn't see it. I'm not sure that will be the case tomorrow, either. For now it suits me I guess. The thing that gets to me is the lack of motivation to do anything else. I don't paint, I don't play music, I don't even really write any more. These are things that I love, and yet I just can't get up the gumption to get up and do them. Who on this planet doesn't want to do things that they enjoy? Apparently this girl. Even sitting down tonight to write about how I don't get why I don't want to write, felt almost chore-like. So I guess the only thing to do is to hop around the old memory banks and try to figure out what and who molded me into the neurotic mess you see here before you. The next goal is to write something tomorrow night at 9:00. So whatever I am thinking about at that time is probably what I am going to write about. I hope it isn't toast, because right now I'm thinking about toast.

Dorkus

Here's the deal, dude. I am not one of the cool kids. I am never going to be one of the cool kids. For the last couple of years I've fallen into this pattern of caring what the world at large thinks of me and the choices I make for myself. I was walking up to my son's preschool today when I found myself frantically pawing at the barbell in my lip. I had to get it out before any of the other mothers saw it...or what would the kids think? But then, where am I teaching them any tolerance or acceptance? Do I not want them to grow up confident in who they are, regardless of who that may be? Leading by example is not going to be a good thing if Phoenix sees me hiding even something as stupid as a lip ring, and it really is stupid if they give a shit. So here is my little blog about how I felt walking home from preschool today. Thanks to a dancing Snoopy card, I found the inspiration to try and write it.
The truth of the matter is this. I wear adidas because they're dope, not because I am a crazy workout freak. I have tattoos instead of tea parties. There are some holes in my face, and I have no idea what the fuck PX90 is. I only try to get my son to take naps on the days when we are going to go out at midnight for some planetary viewing, and I think it's important that he know how a compost bin works. I am a band geek, and the poorest philanthropist you'll ever meet. I eat bullshit like qinoa and spelt because I like them and they are good for me, not because it is the latest trend in orange county housewivery. I believe in organic because how can chemicals or genetic modifications be any kind of good for digestion. My friends who are native to this land, are just that, Native Americans, and my friends from India are from a land called Asia. I believe all our presidents have been the same guy with a different signature, and McDonald's will kill you if you let it.
In the end, I'm probably not as cool as you are, but I guarantee you, your kid thinks I'm awesome, and so does mine. So fuck you cool kid.

Blah

So I've had the new laptop for a good week now. I have no excuse not to blog. So I am blogging. But I don't have anything to say, except it sucks not having anything relevant to contribute. I am not exactly sure why I thought all of a sudden inspiration would just land on me the minute I got a laptop. Silly rabbit. So every night for the last week I've lied in bed thinking about not being able to write. I know if I could just break the cycle, and get one little nugget of an idea, I could get going again. Unfortunately for me, my brain can get on a one track circuit, and it kills. The even more infuriating thing is that there is one time a day I can guarantee a good idea, but I can't take the laptop in the shower. So there you have it. I suck, but at least I got some words on the page under today's date.

Fuck.

Well it's happened again. I was all excited, picked out a lap top, and now I will not be getting it. Had the money and everything, then the damn car blew up. This blows. The end.

Joy and Rapture

Yay! It's September and that means in a two weeks I will get a lap top of my very own! Wooty toot! I know what you're thinking, but Lynn you have a computer lab in your living room. I know, but all of them have dedicated jobs for my uber geek. I will able to post with some form of regularity. Well, as much as my a.d.d. brain will allow. So now I just need to decide which one is the one for me. Mike suggested a pink one. And normally he'd be right, I usually buy everything in pink for survival purposes. (What you didn't know boys and zombies hate pink?) This time I didn't want to just pick it because the guys won't try and kype it from me. I still really have know idea what I want though. I have been eyeballing this bamboo asus that looks pretty sweet, but I can never really decide. Crap.

Holy Hovercrafts!

Have you ever got really, super, crazy excited about an idea for a blog, only to forget it the second you sat in front of the computer? Fuck.

Getting the Rust Out

Here we go! It's been a while, so I forced to myself to find something to write about. I found it when I least expected. So here goes, the first thing I've written in ages. Forgive me while I'm getting back in the swing of things.

Reading a friends blog the other day and he poses the question of why people read blogs. I gave it a little pondering. For me although I was surrounded with a group of friends I loved, I'm certain there are some things that were never talked about. Things no one ever said, subject that were never breached.
All the cats I like to hang around with were really only into a handful of things, at least as far as everyone else could see. I should say that there were only a few things that everyone talked about together. Mostly music and partying. Every last one of them had exquisite taste in the music they listed to, but would never branch out past playing metal. That's the crux though, I think our group as a whole never really got past the surface. I'm almost positive that none of them, save for Jacob, ever knew that I was in a band, or my insatiable need to continuously fill my brain with less than mainstream knowledge. I'm way off on a tangent now.
What I mean to say is, in the carbon realm we can find ourselves completely void of cerebral stimulation, even among our closest friends. In the land of the blogger, you can find something that is of interest to you. Sure there is tons of shyte to wade through. And I'm sure that most people think both this and "Displaced Californian" are crap, and I'm okay with that. The point is we are all free to choose which of these things we find compelling, or funny, or interesting, or freeing from our own mundane lives. And as writers, the anonymity that the interweb gives us, allows us to talk about things we would have shied away from bringing to the table at the last barbecue/party/whatever you and your pals do. Maybe you thought they'd find your collection of Starwars costumes a bit excessive. Maybe I"m into sure about reactions to my obsession with astral projection. Who knows? It matters not, because here you are free to read my brain wanderings, or move on to something that better suits you. Happy travels friend.

Here you go Jacob

Here are a couple of a little more recent pictures of Phoenix and me.

Good and Bad

Sometimes I wonder if parents telling their children how great they are is a good thing. My mom always told me that there was nothing that I couldn't do. I always believed that. But here I am at 30 years old with absolutely nothing that indicates I am anything more than mediocre. After my illustrious career of straight A's and pot smoking in high school, I really haven't done much. College was no place for a 16 year old, and after I blew through 60K in scholarships for my first two years, I'd done nothing but become more confused. After a brief stint in corporate America, a few baaad relationships, a move to Washington, and one child later, I still feel completely stagnant. And if I needed any more proof that I am a loss, I can't even think of a decent blog post.

home

Lego Time

FAIL

A long time it has been. A long time it might be, but I'll post regularly again. Getting caught up in life, and other people's lives has taken a toll on me. There's also the fact that I was supposed to get a laptop months ago, and instead I got another lemon for a vehicle. Grrr. Three weeks in California proved somewhat entertaining, but mostly full of heartache. Many realizations were made. The one thing regarding California I can say is this. If I go again it will not be without Mike, and I will ask one of my friends if I can crash at their house for my stay. Well, I guess there are a couple of things. I also would like to make my trip shorter, and with less parental hostage situations. All in all, I think I'll be steering clear for a while. Now I must get to planning on how to get my friends to come visit me here in Washington....