This last week has felt as if my flesh was being slowly seared to perfection. No, I'm not talking about having a rod rammed up my asshole like a stuck pig, then slowly grilled over an open fire--nor was it a tan or even a sunburn. It felt like a slow agonizing energy-draining burn that seemed to suck everything out of me (not the good kind of sucking), leaving me lethargic and listless.

I forced myself to get some work done in the office, but it took about 5 times as long to focus and execute what I planned on doing. I kept staring off into space or at the three 21" monitors in front of me and wondering what the hell I was doing there. It probably looked like I was lost in thought, but I was simply lost. Whenever I answered my phone, I wouldn't even catch the caller's name and what they were saying. I'd have to ask them to repeat themselves; sometimes it was multiple times.

It's taken me a bit longer than I expected to get back into the swing of things. In fact, I don't think I'm quite there yet, but hopefully I snap out of it soon. I need to climb up the corporate ladder faster and make more money. Whoever was the first to say that more money equaled more problems has no fucken idea what they're talking about. You can suck my sac cause I'm heading straight for the top. Cha-ching!


As much as I hate taking stimulants for various reasons (unless you count snorting that fresh snow in the bathroom using the toilet seat and a dollar bill), like drinking coffee for the caffeine and coke for the sugar content; I've been mixing things that I shouldn't be mixing. And in high doses.

Yeah, killing my body one drug at a time.

I try to avoid drugs of any kind (with the exception of alcohol) whether helpful or harmful cause I've already done enough damage to my body as it is. But my body is naturally tolerant to all kinds of substances, whether good or bad. That's part of the reason why I try and avoid most drugs, now. It takes more to get me (high, drunk, stoned, healthy) than it would a normal person. I have to take a higher dosage of anything to get the same effects as the next person. It doesn't matter if it's alcohol, extacy, crack or even your friendly neighborhood pain-killer, Tylenol.

Anyhow, I was mixing 1 part RedBull with 2 parts Mountain Dew and topped it off with 3-4 cubes of sugar; more than once per day, 3 days out of the week. I needed the boost to stay focused and stay on top of the game. In the end, it helped and I ripped a hole in the old record, which was also set by yours truly. And now my manager owes me another dinner. After 4 months here at work, I'm still #1. Suck it!

I know it's extremely bad for me to be ingesting that kind of concoction and it could potentially cause diabetes. But between the amount of alcohol I've consumed, the drugs I've done in my past and the lengthy exposure I've had to the sun's rays over my entire life; I don't think this'll do much more than get me fat.

Actually, that's what I'm hoping it'll do to me. I need to get fat. After drinking all of that crap and getting those kinds of work results, it could have simply been psychological. But who cares? Burn the candle from both ends I say. As long as I'm focused and heading in the direction of my career goals. I'm just going to do everything I can to get there.

Bring on the crack and hookers!

You know what sucks? Besides a crackwhore who imagines me as her latest and greatest supplier? Besides placing a high-powered wet-vac left on full-power right next to my left nut...but that story is for another day you perverted bastards.

After vowing to never, ever, ever leave behind a friend (that sounds like something Ah-nuld would say), I left my cell phone charger in LA. My cellphone is like my best friend. It even sleeps next to me on my bed at night. Shaddup. I know you jerkoffs are much more kinkier than I am with your My Little Pony collections staring at you while you pump away.

I'm cellphone-less! And I have been for almost a week since my 2.5 year old battery doesn't seem to hold a charge for longer than a day when left on standby. I've been too busy at work to simply go out and buy another charger; seeing how they run about $20 bucks, $20 bucks that I'm loathed to spend since that's about 4 cheap drinks or almost 2 cases of beer from the grocery store.

Yeah, I happen to calculate, compare and equate the amount of money I spend on how much alcohol I could buy. No, I'm not an alcoholic; at least not yet. At least that's a step up from my college days where I compared the amount of money I spent to Jack-in-the-Box Jumbo Jacks.

I feel so naked without my phone. I miss getting my daily dose of radiation going straight into my skull.

Of course none of you freakin' people call me anyway, so it's not like it's such a big loss. *hint hint* And if you do call me, leave me a message, freaks. Not many of you seem to understand that that's what voicemail was created for.

So now I just mope around, lost and alone; carrying around my dead cellphone like a security blanket.

You know what sucks? After all this time, I honestly don't know how to write an outstanding resume. I've been in the working world for almost 10 years now (a whole DECADE!) and I still feel like a high schooler turning in my resume for the very first time.

Well, without the coke bottle glasses and a physique that was the envy of all those who I surveyed.

As a matter of fact, it IS my high school resume. It's been butchered, shredded, filled-in and reworked to the point where it's not even recognizable anymore. It's one of the few things in my life, that actually has a huge impact, that I'm not really sure of.

If resumes could be fug, this would be it.

The funny thing is, when I edit other people's papers, cover letters and resumes, I think I do a pretty job at it. They get hired and they get accepted into universities. When I try and edit my own, I fail horribly. It's like watching me ask out a hot chick; but before any words can leave my mouth, she's screaming an emphatic "NO!".

That's the story of my life.

After all those books and tutorials, I'm not sure if what I type up in a resume really makes a difference. I've always hoped and prayed that I had enough bullshit going for me that I would get into the interview. At least then, I'd be able to take my shot and know that I bombed because I shoved my foot in my mouth.

Not because of a Word doc that's supposed to tell them I'm smart or qualified.

Surprisingly, I've gotten a whole lot of interviews over the years. And a whole host of different jobs as well. I just hope that the position I'm shooting for will take in this driven and water-soaked sucker, so I can really show them what I can do.

Now, to figure out how to attach $100 to this email...

There's this girl who wandered into my life about 3 years ago and has never departed. We don't see each other much, since we both have lives of our own; I being the busier one of the two. She flits in and out of my life, and each time we bump into each other, she takes a firmer grasp of my erratically beating heart. Rarely is there any pain, since our relationship radiates only joy, happiness and laughter.

I know in my heart of hearts that I love her. I truly do. No matter what she does, and no matter how much chaos (if any) she causes, I will always love her. The impressions that she makes on my tattered soul leaves little footprints of brightness; as she weaves her way through the vast darkness that still lingers there. Her charm and innocence brings a smile to my face and a lightness to my heart.

Something that I had lost so long ago.

She stands about 2 and a half feet high, weighs about as much as a light warm-up weight, and has the cutest button nose that you've ever seen. Her slightly toothy smile and her trademark head tilt will make her a heart-breaker as she grows older. When she meets new people, and she is forced into an introduction, she hides behind my leg and tells everyone that she's shy.

Yeah, that is how she'll break those boys' hearts. 'Cause she's shy.

Today she turns 3 years old. It's been 3 years too soon. For me, for my family, for everyone. Her coming into this world was bittersweet for everyone. In the year she was born, my uncle, her grandfather passed on. Sometimes I wish that he had hung out for just a little longer. Just another month and grandfather would have met granddaughter.

But it just wasn't meant to be.

There is no lingering sadness though, for any of us. I miss my uncle dearly, as much as anyone else can imagine. But I know that he still lives on in me, my memories and the lessons that I've learned. He also lives on in his granddaughter for she is of his blood. When I talk to her about him, I see the wistfulness in her eyes. She thinks and wonders and I get a glimpse of the great man I continue to love.

I know that she'll make him proud.

I wasn't able to take any pics, but 2 weekends ago, I was able to see her. Whenever I see her, she always bugs me to pick her up and swing her around as she holds onto my arm. This time was no different.

I curled my arm and she happily latched onto it. Placing one hand on top of her intertwined fingers and lifting her up off the ground, I slowly spun around in a circle making sure that she didn't suddenly lose her grip and fall. I spun a bit faster and continued till she got tired of it and asked to be put down.

Generally, she gives me a bit of rest before asking to be picked up again. Sometimes she asks to picked up but not swung around, so she can hang off of my arm like a swing.

She finally got tired and stood there, looking at my left bicep. Curling her own arm, she looked at it, then made a comparison to mine. Then with a quizzical look, she asked me why she didn't have bigger muscles. I told her cause she didn't look mean enough.

"Sweetie, if you look mean enough, you get bigger muscles. That's why I have bigger ones than you, cause I'm mean. Grrr!" And I bared my teeth at her.

She didn't even laugh. Instead, she looked at me thoughtfully with her face all scrunched up in concentration. Flexing both of her arms, she squinted her eyes, raised her chin up and pursed her lips. That was her "mean" look.

I laughed so hard that I almost ended up choking on the gum I was chewing. That's my darling niece.

I think I'll call her, Muscles.

Happy Birthday, Malaya.

May this birthday be as wonderful as the last one, the next one and forevermore. I'll always be here for you, today, tomorrow and...forevermore.