Month: August 2025

count this as another day of not knowing what to say. I’m drowning in a sense. I’m treading water in another. I’m grinding in a third. All of this movement swirls around moving towards the first day of classes and trying to settle back into the home space and a daily routine. I haven’t settled in or finished classes or really been able to feel like I’m getting where I need to be. Occasionally I have these bright flashes of story but I haven’t stopped to write any of it down. This is the drowning.

Where I am treading water is in the physical. I’m not progressing and I’m not falling backwards as fast as I probably could be. It is a loosing battle right now, because I cannot tread water forever no more than I can hold my breath forever. I need a bouy to hold on to. I need a fixture that gets me through.

The same can be said for the idea of teaching, which remains the sole area in which progress is actually moving forward. Not quickly. Not enough. Moving nevertheless. Gotta keep moving and planning and grinding on in order to get to the place where on feel on top of things.

I should’ve turned back tonight, but I didn’t want to think about where I was this time last year. It is one of those moments where I felt, “always forward” was the key. Still, I don’t have much to say about forward. I’m in the middle of the swamplands right now. I don’t have a lot to say beside what I am seeing on the football feeds. There isn’t much else going on. I’m trying to build 8 classes by friday and I am halfway done with one. This is not the way, but it is the way things are headed right now…

Some Thoughts:

1. Speaking of the Way, Pedro Pascal is a busy Disney guy lately. The Mandalorian Movie is set to drop in 26 after he just released Fantastic Four and is gearing up for additional Marvel adventures. May 22nd is the presumed release date. I ought to find a way to see that right off.
2. Not much else smoking hot coming out of the Disneyverse. The Lady Talis and I are rewatching Jessica Jones, but I really want to get back to seeing new stuff. New Sci-Fi is a hope, as that is what we purportedly will be teaching together come Tuesday.
3. But who knows…

At first I thought I was the problem. Everything here felt slightly off colored or perhaps off center. It hung on me like badly fitted shirt. I could feel how everyone and everything was off, how I felt physically off and could not understand what was happening. Then I did. It wasn’t me. It is this place. Phoenix. USA. It is these people and how differently they were brought up and what lives in their minds and conscience. Nothing about it is what I want to be or experience. I’ve moved on.

Reading The Dark Tower series is giving me the words and the perspective to understand what I experience every time the Lady Talis and I return from a stay abroad. We don’t belong here. Short of being present for my kids and their football seasons, we have no real place here. There is work, but there is work everywhere. There are fewer and fewer opportunities to work within our degree in the places we hope to inhabit, but we still hope to inhabit those places and find our own way. As for the question of children, I want to be able to show these boys a different way of life. I want them to be able to escape the grind and darkness of these states and find a path towards something better. Something that isn’t this constant anger and negative energy.

It was never just coming from the home. It comes from all around us and we are both sensitive to it.

I’ve traveled across a good swath of this world and I can say without reservation that getting into the USA is the worst and most problematic situation I’ve seen. It is not inviting. The people are rarely nice on the way in, and you generally find yourself herded off into separate areas with lower end duty free and other sub par services.

I’m ready to be done.

Some Thoughts:

1. At least there’s football. Without it I don’t think I would find much purpose or passion left for the country.
   I’ve done more contemptuous sighing since reaching this section of the airport than I have in the past month…
2. There isn’t even good football anymore. Short of wanting quite desperately to see my kids succeed, the storylines are woeful. There isn’t a team I truly love that is also good.
   
3. Maybe it’s just Phoenix. Maybe that’s the thing I’m struggling with. The impressive landscape of Victoria Island is quite difficult to leave behind.
   
4. There’s fantasy for all.. that has some appeal to it.
   
5. it isn’t that the people are not genuine—i think they are genuinely as they present themselves. It’s that I don’t like what is being presented. It isn’t who I am or want to be around. I’ve moved on. My world has moved on…

Knowing your bag is too heavy is the worst. It could mean an extra $100 if I cannot get this back below 50lbs, and I have no idea how to make that happen. Some of it is a space issue–I can only take two bags and a personal item. The smaller of the two is lighter but already is holding a few heavy items. The thing is, I do not get why the bag is so heavy–a few shoes, an otherwise empty pair of backpacks and some cords. I dumped the heaviest electronics to save weight (and still have no idea how to deal with that…) but still the problem persists. It is largely a ‘feel’ issue as I do not have a scale on hand, but it feels dang heavy. Like over 50lbs dang heavy and I don’t know how to reconcile the situation.

The trip is costing more and more every hour. I think I will need to grin and bear the $100 fine, because I honestly cannot figure out what to shed, if anything. Everything I am keeping is stuff I want and need.

There is a deer standing in our front lawn. Well, it isn’t ours per say–it belongs to the owners of this BnB where we’ve spent the past month and will spend the next and final 48 hours of our trip. Home then, and away from this magical place, this wonderland in which I am able to find peace and happiness alone with the love of my life. Oh, and very good Cava. Spain level Cava. I don’t miss Spain the way I feel I’ll miss this place.

All I want to do in this moment is go downtown and get some wonderful Napoli-style Pizza, then spend the night cuddled up with my wife. I get to say that now–wife. I get to say we’ve taken another magical step on this journey we’ve been in for a long time. I can remember sitting in the back of my XB in tears believing I’d never get here and never get to be with this slice of the heavens who’d blessed my life. Now I’m thinking about what slice she wants…hell, she deserves the entire pie.

Life is good here in ways I hadn’t perceived until realizing the leaving is approaching. Yet there are the vagueries of what happens next and the more consistent drum of how to maintain a life and, as importantly, a productive schedule. I’ve not worked much these past few days, sliding headfirst into video games and the things that separate me from the world. With the rains there is no beach, but there is no beach without knowing what and how to write. Those same old fears hold me back from writing what might not be good and what is not easy.

Life and love are not easy, but I’ve found my footing in both, and found great success in the latter. Now I must again strive to be grounded and move forward in the former. At least now I have a partner in it.

I am going to speak of the word anticipation, somewhat in the sense of Margaret Atwood, who spoke of science fiction as anticipation, though I am speaking solely of sports at this juncture. There is expectation and anticipation and the two often work together, though not always for the better. At this point, people expect the KC Chiefs and the Philly Eagles to be good teams. There are tiers to these things. The Bills and Ravens are on a tier of positive expectation. The Browns and the Cowboys are very much not.

Anticipation is different. In this regard it is the feeling of possibility–the wondering of what could and what may come of a thing. In this regard that thing is the NY Giants season, and to an equal degree, the New York Jets season. When I think about both I find that expectation enhances anticipation. I expect the Giants will be a terrible football team. I expect them to be ‘in’ six or seven games this season. I expect they will win 2-4. I anticipate there will be far more exciting moments than I expect. Likewise, the rebuilt Jets are expected to be better on defense, but I anticipate they will be a fun watch–primarily because I have no real expectations in regards to the ball club. Are they a playoff team? I don’t know… Probably not.

Both of these NY teams are teams I love and while I expect more from the Jets, I hold an equal level of anticipation for both teams, namely because both teams are not expected to be very good and when the expectations are lowered, anything that does happen is a happening. This occurred once before under Daboll when he was able to lead the G-Men to a playoff win, which unfortunately set them back two entire seasons while releasing Barkeley to become the Madden cover star he is today (watch out, quon!).

The season is close. I’m here for it. I’m definitely not excited as I was in the past, but that has to do with expectation. Anticipation is at a high.

I just did the drawing for draft order for the beach draft–our family-based league. By request I tried a new format, which is reliant on the number of ‘balls’ you get in a way similar to the NBA lottery. I lost bad this season. I did not get the first pick. That went to the lady Talis. I fell to fourth pick–middle draft status. I like the system, though it clearly means I am cooked this year in terms of picking the best available. Still, if I work harder, I may have a chance to pull off a comeback. Man, do I need it.

In RL, I continue to be amazed by the growth of my boys. They are starting to get that ‘imma be a pro’ look in their forms. It feels like they both have a chance to make it to the league. There are many many steps to go before that–the D1 FCS is trying to put up big numbers and go FBS. The High Schooler needs to go from all region honorable mention to all-region and all state. He’s got the look this season, and I am excited to see him playing on both sides of the ball. He’s going to turn heads this year, which could land him on that (stupid but useful) social media hype train. His school and district do not appear to like hype. Every other relevant district is having media nights. His is not. No idea why.

Nor are they connecting with the local news the way other teams are. Regardless, coaches are coming to see him. That’s what really matters.

The clouds above the mountains rolling through olympic national park look like an explosion. My mind is trying to convince me that it is—that I am a shore away from a cataclysm and perhaps the cataclysm promised in early Shadowrun. Yet we are still in this 5th world with all of its maladies and my home country is going downhill quickly. 

We are not at the point of civil war or martial law, but we are being led by an old man who is so full of himself that he is unwilling to accept that other people are responsible for the governing of the country. Moreover, he is unwilling to admit when (which is often) he is wrong. This is a problem—all of our problem, in fact, but not one I can presently deal with. I’m more focused on the fact that I got married yesterday and today I am watching the waves creep towards my toes as the tide moves up the beach and towards my happy place. 

Today was a beautiful day. Every day here is such a day, and I am going to treasure this and treasure the last remaining moments of this honeymoon before the world calls out to me and demands I do the work. 

Some Thoughts:

1. Very few times on this trip have I been stressed completely out. The majority of them have involved my mother. 

2. Happy to end the day on the shore. It’s my second trip to the beach today.

3. Lady Love is the wife now. Lady Talis forever….

4.

Funny how things add up if you let them. 8+1+5+5 = 19. 8/11, which is today, adds up to 19. The number 19 is central to the legacy of Stephen King. It is a part of the lore that is the lives of myself and the Lady Talis. Today we extend that lore by joining hands in marriage. To call me excited would be to misinterpret the sensation I am feeling. Blessed, loved, in the right space and time, all of these apply fully. I am not so much excited as I am enamored with the idea of what is to come and what is to come from it.

This morning, sitting with my future wife, we were talking about what part we were looking forward to the most and I said I was looking forward to the walk home after. That brief and steady moment would be us captured in time. It represents who we are on this path and represents the journey we are taking together. If I am excited for anything, it is for that walk. It and everything that comes before are moments to be held in time, suspended and cherished as though a life could be lived between the seconds, between each breath, each kiss, each smile, each word.

I have loved, I have been in love. I have never had a true partner and companion before her.

I love her, I love what we have created together. It doesn’t feel like this is a rush to the alter and there is no excitement of having that moment of saying I do, because I say I do everyday of my life. It falls from my eyes in a cascade as I look down upon her while she sleeps. It leaves my lips when I praise what she means and who she is to me. I say it without thinking. There is nothing else to say.