Derailment
Current mood: forgotten
Category: Life

I let myself get close to you.  Initially, you soaked it up, every dime and every affectionate gesture.  I felt as though I were petting a tiger, full of rage and strength, but docile to my touch… teasing me as gentle as a kitten.

Now you are aloof.  When we speak, your mind is elsewhere… completing the proverbial check list… find someone, settle down… loose yourself completely… nothing gradual or subtle about it, despite our little "derailment". 

One day, I know the distance will sink in.  You will miss my little world… charming as it is, but ever so askew.  Maybe then you'll wander back, but for now I feel like a discarded toy, set aside for something new.

11:20 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos

The infinite wisdom of a 24-year old
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Romance and Relationships

At age 33, I sometimes find it difficult to embrace my past philosophies. Things were simpler then... yet infinitely more detached. Age and emotional maturity have revealed much grayer areas. Is it simply human to desire a "connection" with another individual? Or is love only one of several elusive possibilities we hope may bring meaning to our existence?

I once wrote...

"I have concluded that it is hard being yourself, no matter who or what you are. Ultimately, we choose to make the most of our individuality or strive to meet the expectations others have set for us. Most of our lives will be spent tying to differentiate.

Few people seem to know what makes them happy. Often, we desire intensity as opposed to a working relationship.

I have concluded that love is the decision to accept. It may entail emotion, but should also be able to endure our volatile feelings. Love is both a responsibility and a privilege.

I believe that commitment to self should be first and foremost. This provides a solid foundation on which to build other relationships.

If you are committed to making yourself happy, you will not transpose this responsibility to someone else. This allows you the opportunity to accept the other person without expectation."

As I sit here, welling in my own neurosis and insecurity, I can't help but wonder where that wise 24-year old has gone.

15:50 - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Memoirs of a Hand-fed Mama’s Boy
Current mood: cynical
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

Don't get me wrong, I cannot claim to be the first in my family's line of pessimists.

Just recently, my Mother predicted the balcony would collapse in the upcoming new apartment, sending me to an untimely demise.  She'd seen a similar incident on the news.  In her mind, this was not a freak accident, but yet another danger lurking in the most innocent of facades.

Damn her and that news channel! 

She had only recently forgotten that someone was allegedly undermining the spread of HIV by strategically placing infected syringes in the handle of gas station pumps.

"Stay here and eat sweet, delicious crème horns with me, and all will be safe and well!" she seemed to beckon.  Although tempting, that destiny seemed unfulfilled.  

Surely, my poor arteries would thank me later.

17:01 - 9 Comments - 18 Kudos - Add Comment

Nothing
Current mood: pessimistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

I am nothing special, but I aspire to be.
Covering up, I work so hard to mask the real me.
Ashamed of my shortcomings, afraid of my own fear,
I strive to find the niche where I might dare to be sincere.
Avoid my own reflection and I pretend…
The wounds are less substantial, that all is on the mend.
But I will always be broken, I will never be well.
I will always fight depression, but never to avail.
I will always seek approval to relive this inner strife,
And never recognize my value in another person's life.

17:38 - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Envy celebrates 33rd B'day
Current mood: ecstatic
Category: Friends

As you may have read in a prior blog, entitled "Tangible Dreams", I recently inducted a handful of valuable friendships into my ever-growing band of merry misfits.  However, I was honored to celebrate my 33rd Birthday with my nephew, Branden, and a group of longtime friends I have come to regard as an extended family.  My history with most of these individuals spans the better part of twenty years.  Unfortunately, some staple members were absent, most of which now live out of state.  (We missed you Neshea, Lilith, Steven, Tommy, Joe and even that damn Chad.  Please know that all of you were with us in thought.)

For various reasons, my newer companions were also unable to attend.  However, I look forward to integrating all my wonderful friends, both old and new, at a celebration in the near future.  Optimistically, I feel the best is yet to come.

Meanwhile, here are a few photos of the recent outing.  Consider this an introduction and homage to my very closest entourage.

Jesse, me and April

Me with (from left to right) Tara, April and Heidi

My former harem, now tame amd domesticated in their adulthood and responsible sobriety.  Bah-humbug!  :-)

Heidi and her suave husband, Ken

Jon, April and Jesse

and introducing, Jawn!

More photos to come of me and my nephew, Branden!

19:15 - 5 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Zacherley
Current mood: pleased
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

Check out Envy on the official website of legendary horror host, Zacherley! Although it is the same photo appearing in my own gallery, it is an honor and a privilege to be recognized by the original "Cool Ghoul" himself! I had the fortune of meeting Zacherley at the spring Chiller Theatre convention, where the featured photo was taken.

Zacherley began his career in 1957 and is one of few horror hosts to gain national recognition. At age 88, Zach is still going strong and even collaborated with modern horror icon, Rob Zombie, on Zombie-a-go-go's "Halloween Hootenanny" CD compilation and inspired the House of 1,000 Corpses character, Dr. Wolfenstein.

10:11 - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Tangible Dreams
Current mood: artistic
Category: Friends

I am writing this blog in celebration of my newest friend, Patterson.  As director Henry Selick once said of Tim Burton, I believe Patterson and I are from the same planet, if not from the same neighborhood. 

I first learned of Patterson by reputation.  I returned to Nightmare Haunted House on weekends during the fall of 2004, after taking a few years hiatus in order to travel.  Patterson worked only a few nights during that season due to other engagements.  However, fellow actors often boasted of his exceptional talent for makeup and set design.  To further peak my curiosity, the walls backstage were literally plastered with photos, newspaper articles and other memorabilia regarding his work as an Elvira impersonator.  His portrayal was so compelling that he had often appeared along side or in lieu of Cassandra Peterson!  As a longtime Elvira fan, even I was hard pressed to distinguish his photos from the real McCoy.  His achievements and obvious talent left me somewhat star-struck.  As Halloween 04 came and passed, I regretted not having the opportunity to become better acquainted.

The year following, I became the victim of corporate downsizing but was eager to devote myself entirely to the haunted house.  Fortunately Pattersons schedule enabled him to work fulltime, as well.   

For the first time, I witnessed his abilities firsthand, as he as he transformed each nook of the winding maze into a detailed, film-quality set!  Sometimes, by the modest beam of a flashlight, he applied makeup to our actors and actresses.  Somehow, the results were always professional and flawless!  Never could his work be duplicated by any of the other staff.  His talent was clearly an asset and key in differentiating us other haunted houses.  Being complimented by him on my character and makeup remains one of my fondest memories of the season.

As the season subsided, we were able to maintain contact through myspace.  The more we spoke, the more our similarities became evident.  Inevitably, we started making appearances as Elvira and the clown.  Not only are we having a blast, but have been so well received that we began getting requests to appear nationwide!

I was once under the assumption that I would never achieve as deep a friendship as I had with the individuals that had been with me since adolescence.  Although these longstanding relationships are particularly dear to me, I have recently been blessed with a surge of amazing new friends (Phil, Pauline, Preston, Jennifer, Danielle).  Not only is Patterson among these new acquaintance with whom I enjoy spending time, he also one of those rare individuals that continuously challenge my creativity.  With him around, everyday seems just a little more like Halloween!

14:04 - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

My Haunted Roots - an abridged history of a family haunted
Current mood: scared
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

My parents first moved into our family home back in 1961.  The only previous resident was the person from whom they bought it.  This individual also happened to be the builder.  No prior structures were ever known to exist on or near the property.  The acreage was formerly used as a sizable pasture. 

No one in the family seems to remember any unusual activity during the first decade of our residency.  However, we began various home enhancements throughout the early to mid-seventies.  These renovations included enclosing the carport, installing an in-ground pool and erecting a work shed near the back of our acre lot.  While digging the foundation for the shed, my father discovered reminisces of pottery and other artifacts suggesting the area had once been occupied by Native Americans.

Corresponding with these renovations was the first of several strange occurrences.  Since then, various neighbors and family members have sporadically reported events that defy explanation.  These activities are not isolated to any one home, but rather span throughout the neighborhood.  The popular theme park, Six Flags Over GA, was erected in 1965, less than a quarter mile from the home.  Rumors of haunting throughout the park are prevalent, as well.

My Father was a traditionalist and closely adhered to the Biblical principles on which he was raised.  He wholly denied the existence of ghosts, claiming a person's soul was bound for either heaven or hell immediately following his or her death.  Ironically, his experience was among the first and also remains the most chilling.   

Often he fell asleep in his recliner, which sat in the enclosed carport that had become our den.  This particular evening, my Mother had retired to bed and turned off the lights so my Father could rest soundly.  He awoke sometime in the middle of the night and sat for a moment, peering into the darkness.  Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.  The voice was clear and concise, but spoke only one sentence, "Have you sold your soul to the devil?" it inquired.  My Father swore to this experience until the day he died. 

At a later date, he and my Mother would witness another disembodied voice.  This time it was a child crying for its mother.

Another early incident occurred in a neighbor's yard to the immediate left of our house.  However, my Brother witnessed it from our backyard, while out mischievously swatting fireflies with his baseball bat.  Suddenly, he was seized by the feeling of being watched.  He turned to face our neighbor's yard and came to meet the eyes of his watcher.

A small animal peered from behind a mound of freshly cut limbs, its head resting on top of the pile.  At first glance my brother assumed it was a cat, until it rose to stand on its hind legs.  He described the body as long and cylindrical, at an approximate height of four feet.  Nothing indigenous to this area resembles this description. 

Years later, the same neighboring house became available for rent and my Brother and his family decided to move in.  The former owner was recently deceased and her assets were to be liquidated.  Therefore, my brother and his family stayed with my parents while final preparations were made next door.

During their stay, my brother and sister-in-law occupied the master bedroom. My nephew brought over his mattress and slept in the same room.  My sister-in-law has a long history of high blood pressure and was being treated for this and other health problems.  Although hallucinations were a possible side effect of her medication, such symptoms had previously occurred only in brief glimpses.  For instance, she might momentarily mistake a stop sign for a person standing by the roadside.  However, while staying with my parents, she experienced a vision far more vivid and disconcerting than anything prior.

After waking from a sound sleep, she noticed a figure looming above my sleeping nephew.  She described him as a young Indian boy, with a tomahawk in hand. She sprang out of bed and the apparition fled into the hallway and disappeared.

Although eager to move next door, the strange experiences followed them to their new home.  Often they awoke to find all of the kitchen cabinets doors open.  Lights turned on and off by themselves and pictures fell while leaving the nail still rooted firmly in the wall.

One day, my nephew, Branden, was playing hide-and-seek with his older brother in the backyard.  While seeking, Branden encountered a dense mist that hovered above the location where my brother had spotted the mysterious animal some years before.  Surrendering his hiding spot, Jamie exclaimed to Branden, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Unaware of my family's experience, another neighbor divulged information regarding occurrences in their own home.  Reportedly, a weighty cabinet shook on its own accord, rattling the china stored inside.  Additionally, the older bungalow was not equipped with central air conditioning.  Therefore, they installed window units in the living areas and bedrooms.  In order to maintain a comfortable climate during the hot Georgia summer, it became necessary to run these units continuously. 

After completing a brief errand, they retuned home and discovered the kitchen unit had been turned off.  Puzzled, they decided to leave it off for the evening and retired to the bedroom.  Logically, they anticipated the kitchen to be warmer than usual when they work up the next morning.  However, the room was literally sweltering.  Immediately, they noticed the oven had somehow been turned on to its highest temperature.

My personal encounters have been fairly limited.  The most compelling incident occurred recently.  I had moved back into the house to assist my Mother during her recovery from surgery.  I was lying in bed one morning just after dawn, attempting to focus on my digital alarm clock without my contacts.  Suddenly, an opaque black form intercepted my line of vision and disappeared as it reached the window. 

These are only a few of the many accounts we have acquired through the years.  In my parent's home, it has not been uncommon for lights to turn or off, cabinet doors to open or phones to suddenly be removed from the receiver. 

Activity experienced a slight surge following my Father's departure in early '98.  The most unnerving occurrence during this period was when my Mother sensed a presence and was then overwhelmed by the strong scent of a man's cologne. 

I once dreamt at least one inhabitant was the spirit of an elderly woman named Ariebella.  However, I have never discovered any physical evidence to substantiate her existence.  Although I am uncertain of its exact purpose or origin, my family has existed harmoniously with this "presence" for nearly fifty years.  Therefore, I believe it is either incapable or simply uninterested in any malicious intent. 

4:17 - 11 Comments - 11 Kudos - Add Comment

A Florida Vacation
Current mood: content
Category: Travel and Places

The Super 8 in Kissimmee is the epitome redneck heaven.  Affordable rates and blaring sunshine compensate for lackluster amenities.  Overhead is not wasted on frivolities, such as crown molding and clean carpet.  The towels are only slightly softer than high grit sandpaper and can easily exfoliate more skin cells than necessary.  Still, oblivious children with southern drawls splash happily in the e-coli tainted swimming pool. 

I was equally as blissful, despite recently loosing my job and apartment.  For the moment, I had stopped mourning my losses and allowed myself to feel liberated.  Any residual concerns and inhibitions would soon fade with the aid of sedatives. 

I came to Florida with no particular itinerary.  I planned on seeing friends who lived in the vicinity, as permitted by their schedules.  Surely I would also visit some local attractions, but above all I came with the hope of “performing”.

Such work rarely yielded income substantial enough to sustain my expenses.  Typically, pay was little more than minimum wage.  At the ripe age of 31, it was the type of work I did simply out of passion. 

To my knowledge, Orlando was the only city in the nation to have, not one, but two year-round haunted attractions.  Skull Kingdom was once the crème de le crème but recently succumb to new ownership.  Specifically, a Pakistani gentleman named Azia was now the primary shareholder and oversaw all day to day operations.  Broken props were mostly ignored, as were exterior damages caused by recent hurricanes.  I would hear much about Azia’s incompetence and lack of diplomacy over many break room discussions, which were yet to come.  For now, I had to secure a position and spent the last two hours in preparation.

With clumsy rubber hands, I twisted open the doorknob and stumbled onto the sun drenched balcony.  Exposure to the intense summer heat prompted an involuntary grimace.  Exaggerated red lips parted to reveal a top layer of convincing fangs.  Splashing children grew still and silent as I emerged from my room overlooking the pool. 

“Mommy, was that a clown?” said a shaken young voice as I rounded the corner, out of sight.

23:39 - 6 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Halloween RIP
Current mood: melancholy

I am lost.  Postpartum depression that typically follows Halloween has set in full force.  I lack the motivation necessary to reacquaint myself with the real world.  Instead, I mourn the self-loyal, flamboyant family of misfits whose existence is contingent on the operation of Nightmare Haunted House.  Sadly, I find myself seeking other venues at which it may be appropriate for me to wear my scary clown apparel.  Dressing up has become a sad and disturbing vice, especially for a man of my age.  Even more addictive is the obsession of finding unconditional acceptance. 

Surely there are others, like myself, who choose to revel in their many flaws and eccentricities.

With this, I remembered the line of a poem I wrote several years ago.  “I beg all Trick or Treaters that would dare now to believe, to join in the indulgence of eternal Hallows Eve.”

1:09 - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment