So, it's been about four months since my last update. I've said it before, I think, at the beginning of damned near every post for the past few years, I've been busy, whatever. Especially now with Facebook and Twitter allowing me to just throw up a quick status update, it's hard to gather up the gumption to write more than a few paragraphs – but then I end up with regret that I'd neglected to write and will forget the events that have transpired.

Still making music every Friday night, and I'm pretty sure the drama-filled growing pains are just about over. All healthy and good to get the system pure. New tunes will probably be posted within few weeks.

My proverbial plate is brimming. On top of all Wingmen productions I'm still working on Blogorian, and now I'm working on a zombie-based project with DR, Woodall, Robin and Kevin. That one's going to be a couple years in the making, so don't expect much word on that for quite a while.

Elizabeth is going to be two-years-old in eight days. My baby girl is...

The struggle of late has been between the desire to document my life and get the word out and the desire not to whine. When these two desires butt heads, I find it easy to take the path of least resistance and procrastination and not say anything at all. The desire to express myself has finally won out.

I’ve been going through a lot of self-renewal lately; a lot of changes and a lot of discovery.

I've been teetering on the edge of posting about this lately, but something just came to light that really has me, well, upset. Not mad or angry (well, maybe a touch) but disturbed and I guess heartbroken. Still surprises me how easily that can happen.

So let's open up this can of worms so I can open my heart even further to stabs and daggers. Because that's what I do, I open myself up and get surprised when pain walks in.

I'm going to be watching Elizabeth for a long weekend in February because Vickie and the kids are going out of town.

Christmas 2008 was spent working. And driving. A lot.

Now, there's a precursor to all of this that you need to be aware of: my cell phone does not make outgoing calls. I can receive them just fine, but I can't dial out. It could be that it was dropped into a lake, or took damage in some fall from an amusement park ride, or was too close to a solar flare, or I just didn't pay my bill this month. I'm sure it was one of those.

Life. It goes on, ya dig?

So, last Tuesday we had our yearly "White Death" event. Bunch of freezing rain and snow and surely we were all going to die. I woke up that morning and headed into Custom Computers - the weather was hardly even wet. I had to leave work there after an hour because I'd found out that I had somehow not realized that I'd put on a t-shirt for work. That wouldn't do, I had to head home to change before going to Pomeroy. Headed home, got changed, checked the auctions in Warcraft, then headed out.

For the uninitiated, Maher road is impressive.

Revisionist History
This was a originally posted with a different title, and then there were comments and suddenly the world was a world of drama. So here I am, reposting it with comments turned off because that's what Vickie wants. I do this not because I want to make her happy and satisfy her every request, but because I fear what she may do when she realizes how easily she can hurt me.

It's unfortunate that because the Internet is so accessible and "open" that content must be guarded or obfuscated behind nicknames.

I don't plan on spending a lot of time on this one. Not that I don't have a lot to say, but my heart's not in it just yet.

Vickie is leaving.

She will be moving out on July 18th. I'll get to continue to watch the kids a few days a week over the summer, so they won't be gone from my life entirely, yet. By the end of summer I plan to change my schedule so that I'm available on the weekends to watch Elizabeth - in this way her custody schedule will match her brother and sister's and she'll be able to spend as much time with them as possible.