Before I begin, Craig in lieu of an email, I wanted to dedicate this post to you.

This should pretty much catch you up on where I am right about now. As for the question you asked regarding A Hard Day's Night; yes it was a job I should have applied for thirteen years ago.

 I'm not worried about being blackballed. If someone is interested in hiring me they will. I'm qualified. In fact, I'm overqualified, and I refuse to settle ever again. I think that I had to experience that humiliation in order to realize it. Like I said, I'm getting older. I don't have time for regrets, well not regrets that I'll regret.

I WANT YOU TO SEE ME, TO HEAR ME TO FEEL ME! I know how corny this sounds but I'm getting pretty desperate lately.

I've been writing for far too long now. It's about time I get some feedback, some followers, some hate mail-whatever.

I know how cliche this sounds as well but I still have to say it. Or maybe I've been saying it too much-I am a writer. If I don't write, I'll die. A slow, agonizing, pathetic death. I'm miserable.

This is scary, but it has to be done. I'm too old to start over and I'm too old to make any more mistakes, well mistakes are inevitable I guess, so what I mean is that I want to be taken seriously as a writer and this means I have to open the fuck up. There. I said it. I cursed. I don't like to curse, but at this point I felt like it conveyed the frustrations I'm feeling at the moment. I don't like to curse, but sometimes I have to, but I've always (because of my good Christian upbringing) felt badly about doing it. However, I realize that it's affecting my writing in that it's not sincere. Not that I have to curse to be sincere, but I do have to open up.

So...that being said, I'm inviting the world into my writing life. My life is precious and beautiful and strange and what I write about reflects that. It should reflect the good, the bad and most certainly the ugly. There's a lot of ugly.

Well fuck it. (Shit, I'm on a roll.) Here it is: My life, my love. My thoughts. My world. Love it. Hate it. Follow me. Don't follow me. I don't care. I'll keep living. I'll keep writing. For me, those two things are mutually exclusive. I make love, peace, war with my words.

My friends, you may do with that what you must.

The story begins today, but it actually started two years ago with the birth of my twins...and let the journey begin...