my careless contagion

This is my (brilliantly titled) end-of-year post. And what a year it has been. I apologize in advance, as this is a long post. Ya might wanna get some popcorn. 2019 started with a hefty dose of back to reality. It's definitely been a strange ride. Some highlights include seeing Cindy and meeting her kids (a highlight for me, probably not for them), as well as seeing my son embrace Play Partners (which is a sort of junior kindergarten which meets twice a week). Next was getting my two-year degree. I felt good about those things. Unfortunately, the year ended knowing there was no desire for a relationship on Cindy's end. She decided to mend her relationship with her ex. That's definitely good for her, as it was hard to see her wallowing in what I thought was indecision. Bad for me, though. All the illusions I had about us ended. But, that doesn't take away from good things that happened this year. And all I can do is follow God's lead, even though it takes me une...

To observe Christmas this year (and this is about all I have the energy for), I'd like to post something from the past. It looks like I took a keyboarding class (which, I believe, was a requirement for graduation) my senior year. I don't know how I got by not taking it until my senior year. Did I not type papers regularly by then? Did I hunt-and-peck? Confusing. Anyway. This is a letter that was sent to my parents my senior year from my keyboarding teacher.  The letter also included my letter to Santa, below.  It's pretty silly. And possibly a little scary (and I'm not talking about my grammatical free-for-all). I mean, it sounds like extortion.  Enjoy the holidays! And thanks for reading! 

This post is strictly fun. I hope no one gets bent out of shape or considers me a monster because I appreciate females (even though they may be young, I'm not a predator, I swear). This post is about appreciation , not lust. Didn't you know all Joshes are nice guys? I am a single (wait — self-partnered) man with ordinary heterosexual desires and no romantic entanglements. This isn't about sex. There's nothing wrong with sex or enjoying sex. God clearly created it to be enjoyed (and if you're not enjoying it, you're doing it wrong). But that's not where this is headed. I can't espouse the same morals as these women, as I don't know what they all believe, nor can I say I agree with any or all of their projects. Okay, I admit this is pretty superficial. Except for one woman I mention. Yes, I'm still hung up on her. Nothing, perhaps, in history has been mythologized as much as the female form. Or the female essence. Of God's creation, I c...

I remember the exact moment she came back into my life. It was December three years ago. I remember where I sat and the smile that spread across my face. I remember the warmth that suddenly coursed through me even though my body was trembling with cold.  I loved that girl with such beautiful hues — words dipped in aching, gasping, glorious color and spread across the widest canvas. Perhaps I got too involved, but love is an involving emotion. In all of my heart-pounding feelings, did I betray myself and create a love that didn't exist? I lost her an unspeakable number of times. I lost her every moment of every day and every night with every heartbeat after she left. Every day and week and month that went by and she was silent, that loss penetrated deeper in my bones. Still now, she is lost. Love is perfect, though sometimes imperfectly found. And, boy, did I love that girl. If I could do it again, I would, and a thousand times. If I had a thousand lives, I'd li...

Yes. I got a message from a devoted fan of my blog to write about my pet peeves. So, thanks, I will! (That's a joke for the editor; he'll think it's funny) I'm actually incredibly easygoing (unless I'm hungry), so not much rattles me. These are more fun than anything else. And it's safe to say this blog needs some levity. I wrote this post a while ago. I hope it makes someone laugh. Poo-Pourri. The commercials are terrible. The actual product is even worse. Thank you, because I now associate the lovely smells of lavender and vanilla with all y'alls taking shits. And all y'alls seem to shit a lot. Or that stuff you spray stays in the air a lot longer than any shit smell possibly could.  When someone asks you what you think, then they cut you off and tell you what they think. Or what you should think. Why don't you just tell me what you think and we'll skip the pretense of caring what I think.   Weird stuff my son's mom make...