The first time that Evan laid eyes on her, he told himself that he was going to marry her. Embarrassed by his own fantasy, he quickly dismissed that thought as fast as it came to mind, telling himself what an idiot he was. Yet, from time to time, in spite of his reasoning, the thought would invade his skull.

What a dumb idea anyhow! It was just lame, teenage fantasyland! Girls did that kind of junk all the time, saying they were going to be Mrs. So-and-so, and thank God nobody could read his mind to know what he was dreaming up! Like she would marry him! He felt like a dumb ****, great in athletics, but far out of her league. Not even having the courage yet to ask a girl out on a date, and now he was already thinking of marriage! Pathetic! Really! Only a freshman in high school, he felt he should know better, lacking the good common sense his dad always tried to drive into him and had himself.

Ginny Delgado belonged with the smart kids, the brains of the school, although she seemed to stick more by herself, away from any stereotypical clique. Evan had first seen her in his biology class, and he remembered when other students wanted to copy off of her test papers. She never allowed any of that to happen, though, even if it would gain her popularity, false popularity but attention just the same.

It was a surprise to him that Ginny seemed to have few friends. Mostly, girls who were nerdy and smart did not seem very attractive or put together. Ginny seemed to have it all. She was smart and pretty, but she never identified with any of the girls who thought they were hot—and all other girls were not—and so she stood apart as one who shrouded herself in guarded aloofness.

And now here he was at his 20th high school reunion, one he really did not want to attend, but talked himself into going anyway. Perhaps, he could shoot the breeze and run into a few old buddies, his basketball friends. He didn't think that much of Ginny since he graduated from Fillmore, much less anybody from all those years ago. There really wasn’t any reason to reminisce once high school was behind him. School was not misery for Evan Stewart, but it wasn’t a time where everything seemed magical and carefree, not like for some students who looked upon those days as some of the fondest memories of their lives.

It was the class of ’92, and a huge banner displayed across one of the walls read, “Welcome back, class of 1992! Fillmore High School rules!” There was a good turnout, and Evan recognized a lot of people, although there were fewer that he knew by name.  

Sitting under dimly light lights, around a bunch of round tables, Evan now sat with the other alumni, stuck in a crowded hall with music blaring away from the early nineties. He had his overpriced meal. He had his few beers.

But what now?

He was almost bored to death. He was beginning to watch the clock more and more, scanning the room to see if he could possibly find reason to stay longer.  But then something happened that he never expected to happen, never even would have imagined it.

And, suddenly, his heart started to pick up its pace.

Was that her?

Evan thought he had made out the vague shape of a possibly familiar figure, an amazing and sudden surprise. Was that Ginny Delgado?

He wondered if he was seeing things as he intently stared across the room at the shadowy prospective of Ginger Delgado. But with the low amount of lighting, it just might not be her but someone he never even met before. How awkward would what be?

If it was Ginny, she was sitting next to a guy who seemed obnoxious and full of himself. Even from afar, he appeared to be a guy who would be in everyone’s face, with wild hand gestures, talking away and giving nobody else a chance for a word in edgewise.  If that really was Ginny, was that her husband? What a trip that would be! All the sense he once attributed to her would have to have gone out the window, if that were the case.

Sitting at Evan’s table were several of the other guys that were also heavy into high school basketball. Most were married and came with their wives—nobody was alone as Evan was—and now they all tried to act like they were thrilled to be all gathered together to show off their accomplishments. They were all passing around stories of life after high school, after basketball—some with talk of their college days, their wives, their kids, their jobs and careers—plenty of drinks to go around, and some toasting to the good, old days and to even brighter futures ahead. Evan was never married and did not have any children, so he felt he had much less to say. Most of those guys were not even very interesting, even though they tried to make it out that they had achieved so much in their lives. They may have been out of shape and past their prime, but all of them tried to act like they were the same as they were twenty years ago. None of what they all said impressed Evan at all, even though he tried to be interested.

He kept looking at the woman across the room, and the more he looked at her, the more he was convinced he was spot on about her. She had to be Ginny! He should just get up now and have the guts to ask her! But what would she say? Yes, I am Ginny Delgado, and this pushy **** next to me is my husband?

Though he was twenty years older, Evan felt just as awkward and as scared as he did in his freshman Biology class. It was better to just let the issue be. He’d rather save face than look like a total fool.

Suddenly, the unexpected occurred, something that gave Evan’s heart even more of a stir than he initially had when he spied her presence. Was it possible? Ginny now looked like she was starring back at him, as if they had somehow miraculously locked eyes and she had an uncanny ability to notice him back, from that afar off, now being transfixed onto him!  

You’ve really lost it now. What do you think, that she really notices you and remembers you?

Ginny stopped paying attention to the obnoxious man beside her and kept looking in Evan’s direction. She even reached her hand up and gave a little wave out his way.

Timidly, Evan waved back.

Standing up, Ginny started to make her way across the room. The obnoxious guy next to her looked on after her, like he could not believe she had wanted to part company with him. Evan guessed she was not his wife—thank God for that!

No, there is just no way she is coming over to talk to you. Alright, maybe she is. Get a hold of yourself now! Stop acting like a teenager and act like you actually know something about women. Come on, Evan! Get it together! She is coming.

Evan was right. It was Ginny Delgado! But she stopped short of his table to sit a down at the table in front of him, next to another fellow classmate of theirs, a female student that he vaguely remembered, though he did not know her name.

It was almost a relief she did not come to sit with him! Yet the disappointment was equally there. Seeing her more up close, Evan knew for sure it was Ginny. She was still quite pretty, perhaps even more so now, her medium brown hair and her dark purple dress complimenting each other. Not wanting to stare, Evan couldn’t help but to shoot many glances her way, without trying to be too obvious.
          
She smiled a lot, glad to talk to another person that she knew, and probably glad to be away from the guy she was stuck with before. Her eyes sparkled, and Evan never remembered ever seeing her so unguarded. In biology class, she was quiet, like he tended to be. Now she seemed so different, seemingly freer to be herself. Evan rarely saw her smile in high school, but thought she was very serious and sophisticated.

Before long, the DJ was now playing Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven. Couples at all tables were making their way to the dance floor. Soon, Ginny was approached by some guy who asked her to join him for a dance. She shook her head, no. Nonchalantly, the man turned to the woman that Ginny knew and asked her. She gladly accepted, said something to Ginny as if to have her permission and understanding, and then took the man’s hand to go to the dance floor. Ginny remained at the table by herself, looking on at the dancers with seemingly little regret that she declined an offer.

This might be your only chance, idiot. Are you going to blow it and be a wuss? Go up to her and tell her that you remember her. Go on! It is your perfect chance. What do you have to lose? If she isn’t interested, just go then. You’ve spent enough time here anyway!

“Hi…Ginny Delgado isn’t it?”

Evan asked as he approached her from behind. He cleared his throat. His voice had sounded so gravelly, as if he hadn’t uttered a single word all night. And his heart was beating a mile a minute, and he swore it must have been pulsating through his shirt. He was glad he put his suit jacket back on, for he was probably sweating like crazy.  

Ginny looked up, seemed to look puzzled, but then smiled a little. “I remember you!” she said with growing enthusiasm on her face. “Oh, but I’m sorry. You are going to have to tell me your name again”.

“Evan Stewart”, he replied. “We were in biology class together Remember? We were sophomores.”

A succession of slow songs was now being played, and Ginny’s friend was enjoying the time with her new dance partner. She certainly was in no hurry to make her way back to the table to rejoin sitting and talking with Ginny.

“Oh, sure! I remember now!” Ginny exclaimed. “Evan Stewart. Of course! You were the tall, shy guy that everyone liked because you knew how to win one for us. You were big into baseball, weren’t you?”

“Well, basketball was my best sport. I liked baseball, too, and track”, he replied humbly. It was amazing! She actually remembered more him than he thought she would!  “

Can I sit down and join you?” he asked, his courage and confidence growing.

“Oh, do!” Ginny replied, eagerly.

He felt like he was in seventh heaven. How cool was this? Sitting with Ginny Delgado? It was a bonus to a fairly descent reunion.

“So what have you been up to for the last twenty years?” Evan asked. His face was flush with embarrassment, as if he was just a guy who happened to luck out, but had no real skill in socializing with a woman he once fantasized about.

Ginny laughed a little, putting her hand up to her mouth as if her response was inappropriate. She responded, “You want a few hours? Or should I just give you a one word response?”

Evan smiled, blushing, as he tried to appear smooth and confident. “A one word response?” he asked.

“Yes. I can say it in one word—roller coaster….oops, that is two words”.

They both just sat there as I Can’t Make You Love Me, by Bonnie Raitt, played on.  

“Yeah…I guess I could say that about my life”, Evan agreed. “Would you like me to get you something from the bar?” he offered. “A coke or a beer?”

Ginny stared out onto the floor, as if she never heard him. “Isn’t it amazing how everyone comes to see the same people they always used to hang out with and still intend to hang out with to this day?” she asked. “How boring and predictable!”

Evan looked at her, puzzled, “What do you mean?”

Ginny continued to look out onto the floor, the music now upbeat dance music, and said, “Well, I mean you see all the football heroes all hanging out with each other. The members of the debate team are all huddled together as if they are preparing for the next debate. The cheerleaders, the drama club, the science club geeks…nothing has changed has it?”  

Evan shrugged his shoulders. “I guess that is typical. But that isn’t me. Sure, I saw some of the guys I played ball with, basketball, but the truth is I am not really that interested in hanging out with them.”

Ginny turned to look at him, her hazel eyes intent and solemn. Evan added, “I don’t have any contact with any of them. Nothing against them. I just don’t”.

They looked at each other in the eyes for a while. The silence was awkward. It was as Evan’s watching and waiting for her reply was the cue for Ginny to open up, and open up she did.

“I went to UCLA on a scholarship. I became a history major, world history, American history, women’s history. I never intended to teach, not at first. But it just seemed a good fit for me, and I have had plenty of teaching jobs, junior high school, high school. I moved to Sacramento.  I was briefly married after I got my first real teaching job there.”

Ginny’s eyes glistened. There was a pain in them that seemed locked in deep, not really wanting to expose itself too much, but coming out nonetheless.

Evan listened on, eagerly, so she went on, her gaze towards the dance floor “It did not work out. He cheated. He did it more than once and with more than one woman.  And now that I look back, I can see how wrong it all was, especially after my miscarriage. At first, I was so crushed, and I wanted to try again, for another baby, to try to please him, Jim, my husband. Thank God, I didn’t go on and on with him. I am glad I came back here…..back to Springdale.”

She looked back at Evan. He quickly looked away from her glance, his eyes downcast to the table. She wasn’t kidding. Her life was a roller coaster. He did not know what to say, felt so inadequate.

He decided to just share, in return.

”I was engaged once. It was a long engagement. She was a friend of a friend. Lana was her name. She told me she wanted to be with me, but she just wasn’t ready to make the big leap just right away. Actually, I am kind of glad now that I look back. We both owned our own shops. She was a hair stylist and I owned my own car repair shop, but that was about all we really had in common. I mean not really, even though we both liked sports a lot. We never seemed to agree on anything.”

Like he did, Ginny just listened intently, not attempting to make any reply. Evan added, “She was willing to cut me down in a second. I see that now”.

“Well how do you like that?!”

Evan and Ginny looked up as the woman that Ginny came over to see arrived back from the dance floor. She was walking, hand in hand, with her new found dance partner, fanning herself with her hand and laughing.

“Ginny’s got some company, too!” she exclaimed, beaming at Evan.    

Ginny replied, “Rhonda Flemming, this is Evan Stewart. She used to be Rhonda Boehner back in Fillmore”

Ginny turned to Evan to introduce him to her old classmate. “Evan…Rhonda. Evan, I don’t know if you two ever met each other before when we all went to school”.

“I’m not sure I have, either”, he replied, extending his hand to shake Rhonda’s. Rhonda quickly grabbed hold of his and gave it an overly enthusiastic shake.

“Hi, Evan!” she exclaimed "This handsome man next to me  is Brian. I never knew Brian until he asked me to dance!” she said excitedly. “And I am newly divorced and so is he! How strange is that?”

Brian shook Evan’s hand and then Ginny’s. “How’s it going?” he asked, grinning with embarrassment at Rhonda’s forward frankness.

“Ginny is one of the smartest people”, Rhonda went on to Evan and Brian. “We were once partners in an English class. We had to write a paper about each other. That was so fun in an otherwise booooooring class. Remember, Ginny?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, and made a shooing gesture with her hand to convey that Rhonda did not know what she was talking about. “I’m not as smart as anyone ever thought I was. I just worked hard and did my best, but thanks anyway for the compliment” , she said, modestly.  

“Oh, you were, too, Ginny!” Rhonda disagreed. She had a gleeful glint in her eyes. “Always so serious, Ginny Delgado! “

Rhonda grabbed Brian’s hand. “Hey, Brian and I are going to go mingle and walk around and see what trouble we can get into. You two want to join us?  

Ginny and Evan looked at each other as if to say “No way!” Ginny responded, “I think we are just fine here, but thanks”

Rhonda winked at her and then tugged at Brian’s hand. The pair of them went off together, leaving Evan and Ginny to themselves.

Evan smirked at Ginny, and then they both started cracking up with muffled laughter. Evan paused and then burst out laughing again. “Where did you find her?” he asked. A tear actually began to run down his face from laughing so hard, and he quickly wiped it away.

Ginny stopped laughing, tried to compose herself, but busted out with even more laugh

evan peters,
your so fine.
i've seen your behind, atleast 4 times.
i think you should know that you're a dime.
will you be my valentine?

evan peters,
is one hell of a man,
he can even pull off lobster hands.
evan peters i am your  biggest fan.
i would love to tell you this over a can of spam.
but ****.
you're emmas man.

evan peters,
you're so fly,
you're bootylicious,i can't denie, to hell with shakira,
your hips do not lie,
american horror story, until the day i die!

I’d read of the yacht that was lost at sea,
Among the Antarctic ice,
I never thought it would matter to me
Though its ending wasn’t so nice,
There were three on board, and two had died,
But one must have got away,
For I found the log of its final days
In a second-hand shop in the Bay.

It was badly damaged with damp and rot,
And some of the ink had run,
Some pages stuck so I couldn’t read
The writing on every one.
But the hairs rose up on the back of my neck
To read what there was to see,
For a tale of human failings were what
Became so apparent to me.

They’d gone in search of the southern whales,
John Stanley, Evan and Eve,
Though why they went at that time of year
I find it hard to conceive,
For the winter’s cruel in those Southern climes
And the sails ice up with the spray,
‘It’s hell when there’s no-one to keep you warm,’
John Stanley wrote on the day.

For Evan and Eve kept each other warm,
While John made do with a quilt,
He wrote that Eve kept looking his way,
Could that be a sign of his guilt?
He waited till Evan had gone topside
Then made his advance to Eve,
But she just pushed him away, and then,
He wrote, ‘I caught at her sleeve.’

‘She fell, and crashed to the galley floor,
And split her head on the sink,
The wound on her scalp was red and raw,
I needed a moment to think.
I lifted her into an easy chair
And wiped the blood from her brow,
Then Evan came tumbling down the stair,
‘What have you done to her now?’

The following entry was smeared with blood,
I couldn’t read what it said,
I only know when he wrote again
That Evan must have been dead.
‘I lifted him over the starboard rail
And slipped him into the sea,
His body had left a bloodied trail
But that had left Eve and me.’

‘She came around on the second day,
But only could sit and stare,
So I lifted her into the lower bunk,
I needed her warmth in there.
A look of horror had crossed her face
When I crawled under the quilt,
And held her tight on that second night,
I can’t explain how it felt.’

The next few pages were in a lump
I couldn’t tear them apart,
But then a page was written in rage,
‘I’d given the girl my heart.
But though she still couldn’t speak to me
She lay on the bunk and spat,
I told her that Evan had gone, so she
Had better get over that.’

The ink had run on the following page
In water that looked like tears,
So he must have felt her rejection while
She lay, gave way to her fears.
The entry he wrote on the seventh day,
‘I held her close, and she sighed,
I thought my love had begun to move her,
When I awoke, she’d died.’

‘I held her close on the seventh night
But she had become so cold,
I tried to give her my body heat
As the yacht in the ocean rolled,
I couldn’t slip her over the side
To do what I’d done before,
She needed a christian burial so
I’d take her back to the shore.’

The next few pages were merely rant
Bemoaning the love he’d lost,
But never a mention of Evan there,
Who’d paid the ultimate cost.
The sun came out on the fifteenth day
And the cabin became so warm,
Where Eve had lain in her rotting flesh
‘The worms came out in a swarm.’

‘I couldn’t believe the smell down there,
Her body was falling apart,
I should have buried her when I could,
I just didn’t have the heart.’
The yacht was locked in Antarctic ice
When the ice breaker came through,
And took both John and the Ice Log off,
So now I can read it to you.

But Eve lies still on the ice bound yacht
A skeleton now, but free,
Her soul in search of Evan, her love,
They’ll meet down deep in the sea.
While John still roams abroad on the earth
And carries his personal hell,
To mourn the love that he found and lost
Among the Antarctic swell.

David Lewis Paget

Written for a school project*

September 09, 2013

To: Evan Riddle
From: Granddad

Well, I understand that you would like to have a letter from me, recognizing certain traits, and accomplishments, and so forth. Begging your pardon, I will begin in this manner.
A couple of years ago, during a"pre-game warmup" prior to the start of one of your games, I was standing behind the glass watching the pucks bounce off your chest. A young boy, perhaps a year younger, came up, stood beside me, also watching you. He then turned, yelling to a friend, "here he is, #41!"  He was quickly joined by his friend and another, all three watching you at close range.You have no idea how that made me feel. How proud of you I was, that apparently your reputation was developing among your peers within the "ice crowd."
In my home, on a wall, is a photo of you, taken during the All-Star game in Ottawa, Canada. You, wearing the red and white All-Star jersey,  standing in front of the net watching and observing the action that soon would be coming at you.
This is my favorite photo. The expression on your face silently reflects your abilities to "focus" on what you are supposed to do, the "determination" to do it, and the "perseverance" to get it done. Three traits that have followed, and stayed with you, and guided you to be successful, in all you have accomplished in both sport and academic activities in which you have participated. You are respected by your team, your coaches, your teachers, and your classmates. You can't have better than that.

Love you,
Granddad

CRUSH

Crush,
The term wouldn’t exist if it doesn’t hurt does it?
When does it start? This feeling,
It grows bigger and larger,
And suddenly I realise,
My heart is on the verge of exploding,
Bursting with emotions that I can’t help but feeling so.

The only thing that I have want to convey and send to you is
‘I like you’, ‘I like you a lot’,
My heart, it hurts,
Evan seeing you from afar, my heartbeat goes crazy,
It's hard to breath,
How do I stop this feeling?
I am tired, I am sad, I am happy, I am anxious,
Because the only thing I have been thinking of is you,
You! You! and only you,

But crush, oh crush,
In the end you’re just a crush,
Those words,
They were never conveyed,
And I silently keep this feeling to myself,
With the faint hope that you’ll return this feeling,
In this feeble heart of mine,
And again, it hurts.

-nuraishahazman-

The 9.6 million followers who tune in to watch Miranda Kerr having her hair done on Instagram — for this is how models spend most of their time — were treated to a rather more interesting sight last Thursday: a black and white photograph of a whacking great diamond ring.

Across it was the caption “Marry me!” and a twee animation of the tech mogul Evan Spiegel on bended knee. Underneath Kerr had typed “I said yes!!!” and an explosion of heart emojis.

A spokesman for Spiegel, founder of the Snapchat mobile app, who is 26 to Kerr’s 33 and worth $US 2.1 billion to her $US 42.5 million , revealed “they are very happy”.

At first, the marriage seems an unlikely combination: a man so bright he founded Snapchat while still at Stanford University, becoming one of the world’s youngest self-made billionaires by 22, and a Victoria’s Secret model who was previously married to the Pirates of the Caribbean star Orlando Bloom (she allegedly had a fling with pop brat Justin Bieber, leading Bloom to punch Beebs in a posh Ibiza restaurant).

Perhaps the union indicates that there is more to Kerr than we thought. More likely, it reveals something about Spiegel — and the way the social status of “geeks” has changed.

Since Steve Jobs made computers cool and Millennials started living online, nerds are king. Even coding is **** enough for the model Karlie Kloss, singer will.i.am and actor Ashton Kutcher to learn it. Silicon Valley has become the new Hollywood, as moguls and social media barons take over from film stars and sportsmen not just on rich lists, but as alpha men.

Being a co-founder of a company is this decade’s equivalent to being a rock star or a chef. And, if their attractiveness to models and actresses proves anything, then being a Twag — tech wife or girlfriend — is a “thing”. Sources tell me Twags are also known as “founder-hounders” because they like to date the creators of start-up companies.

Actress Talulah Riley was an early adopter. She started dating the PayPal founder Elon Musk in 2008. Riley, then fresh from starring in the St Trinian’s film, met Musk in London’s Whisky Mist nightclub after he had delivered a lecture at the Royal Aeronautical Society. I interviewed her shortly afterwards and she told me they had spent the evening talking about “quantum physics”. A month later they were engaged. Their on-again-off-again marriage lasted six years before she filed for divorce again in March. Currently Musk, worth an estimated $US 12.7 billion and focused on Tesla cars, is said to be “spending a lot of time” with Johnny Depp’s estranged wife, Amber Heard.

Model Lily Cole dated the Twitter founder Jack Dorsey in 2013. Later she had a son with Kwame Ferreira, founder of the digital innovation agency Kwamecorp. Actress Emma Watson is going out with William Knight, an “adventurer” who has an incredibly boringly sounding job as a senior manager at Medallia, a software company. Allison Williams, Marnie in the HBO television show Girls, is married to Ricky Van Veen, co-founder of College Humor website.

Could it be that these women are onto something? Dating a bro certainly has its appeal. They are innovative: how else would they invent apps that deliver cheese toasties or match singles based on their haircuts? They are risk-takers who must be charismatic enough to inspire investors and attract crowd-funding. They may not be gym-fit, but they are mathletes who can do your tax bill. They are animal lovers: every start-up is dog friendly. And they are fun: who would not want to date somebody with a ball pool in their office?

There is a saying about dating in Silicon Valley: the odds are good but the goods are odd. Nerds are notorious for peculiar chat-up lines and normcore clothes. Still, if geeks can be awkward, that is part of their charm. Keira Knightley, complaining that Silicon Valley was all men in hoodies and Crocs, described how one gave her his card, saying she should get in touch if she wanted to see a spaceship.

One Vogue writer recalled a Silicon Valley man messaging her via a dating app, in which he noted: “In 50 per cent of your photos you’re holding an iPhone. It may interest you to find out that I invented the iPhone. More accurately I was an engineer on the original iPhone . . .”

Most promisingly, some guys are astoundingly rich. It is suggested Kerr’s engagement ring is a 2.5-carat diamond worth around dollars 55,000. She has already moved into Spiegel’s dollars 12m LA pad. Between his money and her Victoria’s Secrets bridesmaids, no wonder sources claim they are planning an “extravagant wedding”.

It might rival even the Napster founder Sean Parker’s $US10m performance-art bash. He married songwriter Alexandra Lenas in a canopy among Big Sur’s redwoods decorated to look like an enchanted forest. Some 350 guests wore Tolkienesque costumes created by The Lord of the Rings costume designer Ngila Dickson. They sat on white fur rugs and were given bunnies to pet. Presumably rabbit babysitters were on hand when the disco started.

If such fantasies inspire you to become a Twag, the great news is you do not have to be a supermodel to be in with a chance. Such is the dearth of single women in Silicon Valley that one dating site, Dating Ring, crowdfunded a plane to fly single women to Palo Alto from New York.

Be warned, though: guys are single because they are married to the job.

No wonder most meet their partners at college or work — the Facebook chief executive Mark Zuckerberg met his wife, Priscilla Chan, at Harvard.

The Instagram co-founder Kevin Systrom met girlfriend Nicole Schuetz at Stanford. Melinda met Bill Gates when, in 1987, they sat next to each other at an Expo trade-fair dinner. “He was funnier than I expected him to be,” she said.

Kerr began dating Spiegel in 2014 after meeting him at a Louis Vuitton dinner in New York. You can bet he was networking. Shortly after Louis Vuitton showcased their cruise collection in a Snapchat story. Last season Snapchat went on to become the biggest new name at NY fashion week.

If you want to meet tech guys, you might catch them at Silicon Valley parties, which is how the Uber chief executive Travis Kalanick met his partner, Gabi Holzwarth, a violinist hired to play. Or they might be schmoozing clients downtown in a swanky Noe Valley club in San Francisco or a boring Union Square hotel in New York. In London you find them around Old Street, aka Silicon Roundabout, in bars, at hackathons, or start-up meet-ups. In the day they are coding at Google Campus or practising their pitching in a co-working space.

Some tech boys date the old-fashioned way: on Tinder. Airbnb founder Brian Chesky met his girlfriend of three years, Elissa Patel, through the app. When I interviewed Instagram co-founder Systrom he admitted that when he had been single he had signed up.

Dating agency Linx — presumably a play on operating system Linux — is dedicated to making Silicon Valley matches. Amy Andersen set it up in 2003 after moving to Palo Alto and being “flabbergasted” by the number of eligible men. She claims her clients are “extremely dynamic and successful individuals’’: tech founders, tech chief executives, financier founding partners of large institutions and “tons of entrepreneurs”.

Andersen says tech guys make “fabulous partners”. Romantic and chivalrous, they write love letters, plan dates, “even proposing on Snapchat!” If you want to marry a tech billionaire, she says, “you need to bring your A game.” Her clients look “for women who are equally, if not more, dynamic and interesting than he is!”

There are drawbacks to dating tech guys. Before Google buys your amore’s business, he will be living on *** Noodles waiting for the next round of funding — and workaholics are dull.

Kerr says Spiegel is “25, but he acts like he’s 50. He’s not out partying. He goes to work in Venice [Beach], he comes home. We don’t go out. We’d rather be at home and have dinner, go to bed early.” Which might suit Kerr, but is not my idea of a fun.

You had also better be prepared to share your life. When Priscilla Chan miscarried three times, Mark Zuckerberg wrote about it on Facebook, while Chesky used a romantic trip with his girlfriend to promote Airbnb - uploading a picture of her in bed, with a note saying “f* hotels”. Besides all of which is the notorious issue of Silicon Valley sexism.

It has a chief exec-bro culture that puts pick-up artist/comedian Dapper Laughs to shame. Ninety per cent of women working in the Valley say they have witnessed sexist behaviour, 60 per cent have experienced unwanted ****** advances at work, two thirds of them from their boss. Whitney Wolfe, a co-founder of Tinder, took Justin Mateen to court for ****** harassment. Her lawsuit against the company alleged that Mateen, her former partner, sent text messages calling her a “*****”.

Spiegel has tech bro form. He apologised after emails from his days at Stanford emerged: missives about stripper poles, getting black-out drunk, shooting lasers at “fat chicks”, and promising to “roll a blunt for whoever sees the most **** tonight (Sunday)”. After one fraternity Hawaiian luau party, he signed off emails “f*bitchesgetleid”.

No wonder some women are not inspired to become Twags. Especially when you could be a tech billionaire yourself. Would you not rather be Sheryl Sandberg, chief operating officer of Facebook, than married to the boss?Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses

Dear Karen,
It is seven years this month when you left us.
I miss you everyday. In the car, seeing the passenger seat empty, but can still hear you telling me to slow down. When I see Russ and Mea, I smile, knowing that our grandchildren, Evan and Emily, would not be here if not for you.

Not long ago, at one of Evan's hockey games, I turned to Mea and said, "I hope Karen is watching this", for Evan(goalie) was playing exceptionally well. Mea put her hand on my shoulder, "she probably has a better seat than we do." I don't doubt that at all. The same goes for Emily and her activities, whether it be soccer, basketball, softball, or who knows what else, I know that you keep that protective blanket around both of them. Yes, there will be scrapes, scratches, bumps, and bruises. perhaps a broken bone. But when the game calls for a "clutch" player, is when the power of the angel, you, leaves the bench, strengthening the confidence of all the players, not just one, or two, but all. Like all things mortal, sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. But most of all, they learn. A most important result.

Love you, and miss you!

Richard

copyright: richardriddle 01-07-2015

K: "Good morning, and Happy Father's Day!"
R: "Thank you! Hoping I would hear from you, and, before I forget, Happy Birthday to you, tomorrow!
K: "Time goes by fast, doesn't it."
R: "Yea, too fast."
K: "Are you doing okay?"
R: "Yes, but I miss you, wish you were here."
K: "I'm there, always will be."
R: "Yes. you will."
K: "Evan and Emily are really growing, look older than they are."
R: "Don't you know it. Evan is nearly 6'3" at 15 years old, Emily is 5"10, and only 12. Evan's getting ready for the upcoming hockey season,   not sure what Emily wants to do."
K: "In a few more months you will be 75."
R: "Don't remind me! At least, I've stopped growing!"
K: "That's funny! You could always make me laugh."
R: "Tried to, miss that!"
R: "Any new rumors floating around up there?"
K: "Nope, just watching, waiting to see what's going to happen, other than what has already been said by you know who."
R: "Guess He's the only one that knows."
K: "A very well-kept secret."
R: "I'm sure it is."
K: "Tell Russ, Mea, Evan and Emily 'high' for me, and that I love them and miss them."
R: "I will, and they know that. You take care, will talk to you later."
K: "Sounds good, love you, bye-bye!"


r.riddle: June 19, 2016

Dear Karen


Dear Karen,
It is seven years this month when you left us.
I miss you everyday. In the car, seeing the passenger seat empty, but can still hear you telling me to slow down. When I see Russ and Mea, I smile, knowing that our grandchildren, Evan and Emily, would not be here if not for you.

Not long ago, at one of Evan's hockey games, I turned to Mea and said, "I hope Karen is watching this", for Evan(goalie) was playing exceptionally well. Mea put her hand on my shoulder, "she probably has a better seat than we do." I don't doubt that at all. The same goes for Emily and her activities, whether it be soccer, basketball, softball, or who knows what else, I know that you keep that protective blanket around both of them. Yes, there will be scrapes, scratches, bumps, and bruises. perhaps a broken bone. But when the game calls for a "clutch" player, is when the power of the angel, you, leaves the bench, strengthening the confidence of all the players, not just one, or two, but all. Like all things mortal, sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. But most of all, they learn. A most important result.

Love you, and miss you!

Richard

copyright: richardriddle 01-07-2015

Sidenote: I highly recommend listening to these songs/watching the musical, it is amazing.

Example:
Song title: Lyrics *My thoughts/feelings

Anybody Have A Map?:

Anybody maybe happen to know how the hell to do this?*  
I'm in this confusion so deep that I can't find a way out.
I'm flying blind, and I'm making this up as I go.
Ha. Me too.

Waving Through a Window:

Step out, step out of the sun if you keep getting burned.
I've been burning forever.
Waving through a window!
Put your soul into this song.

For Forever:

We share.
Together.
All we see is sky for forever.
An ecstasy I do not know.
All we see is light, 'cause the sun burns bright!
Shouting hallelujah from here.
Life will be alright for forever this way.
I hope so.

Sincerely, Me:

All that it takes is a little reinvention!
I need that.
All you gotta do, is just believe you can be who you wanna be.
Just believing right?
Sincerely, ME!
Yep.

Requiem:

I will sing no requiem.
Neither will I.
I gave you the world, you threw it away. Leaving these broken pieces behind you.
I know.
Everything wasted, nothing to say.
I know.
Within these words I finally find you.
The words are not mine.
Now that I know that you are still here.
I am?

If I Could Tell Her:

But he kept it all inside his head, what he saw, he left unsaid.
Secrets work wonders do they not?
If I could tell her, tell her everything I see. If I could tell her how she's everything to me. But we're a million worlds apart... And I don't know how I would even start.
How do we begin to say the words?...

Disappear:

No one deserves to be forgotten. No one deserves to fade away.
Nobody.
No one should come and go, and have no one know he was ever even here.
I'll make sure of it.

You Will Be Found:

Well, let that lonely feeling... wash away.
I should let the weight drop from my shoulders.

To Break In A Glove:

And a little uphill climb.
Just more work.
For a kid who's lost control.
I'm just trying to make sense of it all.

Only Us:

Try to quiet the noises in your head. We can't compete with all that.
No we can't. But we try.

Good For You:

And you say what you need to say, so that you get to walk away.
Everyday.
I hope that it's all that you want and more.
I'm not proud.
And you play who you need to play.
I did.
JUST LET ME OUT!
I am not okay.

Words Fail:

I never thought that it would go this far.
I really didn't.
So I just stand here sorry. Searching for something to say.
I am still searching.
There's nothing I can say.
There really isn't.
Words fail.
They do.
That's a worthy explanation, I know. Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done.
I wish I could make it up to you.
So how do I step in...

Step into the sun?

I wish I knew how...

So Big/So Small:

And I knew I'd come up short a million different ways.
And I did.
And I do.
And I will.
And I will... I already have...

Finale:

Today is going to be a good day, and here's why:
Because today, at least you're you and that's enough...
That's enough.

All I see is sky for forever...

Curtains close.

I'm going home.

Yeah... I'm going home.

by Evan Spooner

I am talking with my friend
Saying over & over
to join me

but my mind told me
at the end. there was only space

for thoughts.

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy


 
by Evan Spooner

approach
ask
without a word
 
by Evan Spooner

These people call this Faith,
bring them to my table
the next bit of gospel
I wrote on a napkin.

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy
 
by Evan Spooner

I’m dying the other five
Quite possibly
It may hide all
it’s a mask My head
modified,

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy

 
by Evan Spooner

Sometimes
I never really expect anything
In return


Nothing
Left

Bounty of slaves,
working for none.
Cultures lie,
there with their gun.
Black-out a burn out,
a penance to come?
Cancel out,
the light of the sun;
'Apo-ca-lyptic'
      Dragon

Two perched on-high,
they watch the streets...
Places where Man
and Devil's meet.
War drums begin,
laying their beat.
Who is going
-to save all the meek?

Woman she comes,
starry-crown, starry eyes!
Stands as a calf
in her disguise.
Birth a Messiah,
in waters unbound.
Arise as a Beast,
disciples confound?
Symbol in mind's
all to subvert...
God now a serpent
religion's convert.

Death To Us All!
And Death To The Light!
A Christmas Revelation,
War and Death Do Delight!

~Evan

I hear about his face
Being burned.
I hear spokane played
make belive with
The true meaning
of recovery.
Are they all playing
with syringes and
needles so sharp
You could weeve
the strings into
Linnens and
portraits of your
friends disapearing
from every hill
You lied about painting.
Over and over we all
waited at the end
of the tunnel.  until
the last train gave us
the message.  "hes on his own now"
I know they all tried.  
But now they will wait
For him anticipating the sounds
Of bells ringing a cadence saying
" hes somewhere else now"
They ask his mother
" wheres evan"
Even if she doesnt know
Where he is anymore.
Shell drum up half of
The true answer
Simply saying
The words
"I dont know"
"I dont know"

I admit it was a little odd being in your place again,
Especially without you.
But I did have a blast.
The boys played their game with Family Guy in the background,
Kara and I baked,
And we all laughed.
We were amazed to see what everyone is like sober,
And really they aren't much different.
Chase was still confused about everything,
James was still a smart ***,
But one person was a little different.
Evan was joking,
Laughing,
Smiling.
He was being polite,
Offering to help bake,
Offering to let us play their game.
You all may think Evan is a stick in the mud,
But I think he is a sweetheart.

I've been asked by our son and the grandchildren, Evan and Emily, "Granddad, what would you like to have Santa bring you for Christmas?" A stock answer with grandparents nearly everywhere is, "Don't get me anything, for I have everything I need or want, so save your money."
Although this is a true answer, I usually give some kind of a rediculous answer like, "A pair of horseshoes would be nice." They smile, laugh, but it wouldn't surprise me if they bought a pair.
When I say, "I have what I want", I mean just that. For you see, my family, our son Russ, daughter-in-law, Mea, Evan and Emily, and my "Guardian Angel", "Brie", are my Christmas gifts, 365 days a year.

I can't ask for more than that!

copyright: richard riddle- 12-21-2015

It took me a while to realize that you were not my first love. Sure, my first time, my first older boyfriend, my first lover who was also my best friend. But not my first heartbreak. While discussing the argument between your girlfriend and me with a close friend, she said something that woke me up.

“Why is she so insecure if you two didn’t work out? Like, you two just don’t work, she shouldn’t be attacking you.”

At that moment I wanted to interrupt with a, “we did work out but-“ But what? I let what she said resonate through my brain. We didn’t work out. I was trying to keep every beautiful memory alive (there’s a lot of them) by ignoring the idea that we really did not work together. It was a slap in the face when everything clicked. We would still be together if everything worked.

Naturally, this led me to think of everyone I’d been with and why it never worked. I ignore Evan. Yes he was my first boyfriend and yes he was my first kiss, but that’s all it was. We were eleven years old with dorky crushes on each other. Hardly love at all. Then there was Gareth. He was my first love. It was one of those things where I saw him and I felt like 500 bees had stung me. Only their stingers left the healing sensation of honey. Right after the pain came the comfort. But with this also came with the reality that he was my first unrequited love, my first heartbreak. It took years to get over him. I dated Nick, I dated Hayden, I flirted with Jordan, and nothing sufficed. And then came you. Seeing you wasn’t the equivalent of a bee attack, but rather the feeling of floating in the ocean. Calm, tranquil, heavenly. We had a good run. I could write every amazing moment our relationship had but I’d die before it was finished. In the end, we were changing people that weren’t changing together. It hurt to realize this, as a Taurus I abhor change, but looking back on it years later it all makes sense. I tried for so long to get back what we had, but we never can. Burned out flames should never reignite.

After you came Jake. Now he’s an interesting one. He’s the first person that I was infatuated with. At the time I didn’t know this so I merely stuck the sticker “head over heels in love” onto him. I thought he was another repeat of Gareth. Unattainable and heartbreaking.  And in a way he was. I broke when he left. I completely shattered. But I’m thankful for this because most things that fall apart already have some sort of cracks in them. I realized that I didn’t shatter because of Jake, but because I had been living with depression. Jake was just the missing puzzle piece. And when he came back around, I felt nothing. And with that I found Rory smiling and lying in a pile of my shattered pride. We challenged each other, bettered each other. Until we carved and sculpted each other into the partner of our dreams. Our love was built on copious amounts of *** and drugs; Rory and Tia became a euphemism for Sid and Nancy. “I love you” became euphemism for “I'm not sober.” That’s how I knew it wasn’t love. But what was love however, was Daniel. Being with him was lava. Molten hot lava. This was the kind of love that grew out of proximity. Scientists say that if you look into someone’s eyes and tell them every deep part of yourself for thirty minutes, you’ll fall in love. And that’s basically what happened, except for the fact that it made Daniel feel nothing. I, on the other hand, was being consumed by him. It was a hookup gone wrong and I still have yet to learn the lesson that his role in my life will teach me.

Their lies are prompted
from teleprompters
and executed flaw-fully
from taxpayer's helicopters.

They say we're protecting
foreign daughters
while filtering profits
to desert clad marauders.

Blank faced public
fear conversing religion and politics
while passively electing
lunatics with trigger switches.

Arm the rebels
they bite the hand that feeds
the middle east burns
while America ******* bleeds.

The white, blue and red
camo helmets on their heads
farm fed frat boys
equipped with jackets of lead.

We watched Saddam crumble
his statue beaten with shoes
but the same war we already fought
the puppets now will choose.

Fight the good fight
support the troops.

Drone strikes by twilight
**** the troops.

An Army of one
Sempter Fi
Do or Die
I won't shed a single tear when you come back in a casket
covered in a flag you valued more than your life.

Our heroes are our welfare
stop blaming single mothers
plastic bags tied around throats
water boarding dissent, it smothers.

**** the Medal of Honor
I'm tearing up your portrait Obama.
How many can benefit from free tuition?
But we give it to those trained to slaughter.

Our priority is the police state
Nazis pretending to tote freedom.
We sip our Americanos
And retain nothing from the newspaper we are reading.

**By Evan Ponter
@evanponter

Billowed and pasted, rollicked and wasted,
the night takes hold and Samantha, you remember her,
she's smoking again. This is her last pack though.
Drinks poured. Drinks spilled. Kate and I are talking
like people with scheduled late afternoon love affairs. There's
a car alarm going off in the distance. I love this blouse. Is it new?
No. It looks new. I love your perfume. You aren't wearing any?
Must be a natural—and the first to arrive at the party, Chris and
Evan, they're the first to leave, and we listen intently as one, or maybe both, tumble down the stairs. There should be waivers for second floor
apartment parties. Kate, you deserve so—I know. I know. You've got this light. Jesus. I'm just saying. Is it radiant? Yes, it's radiant. And they're lighting their drinks on fire now in the kitchen, some concoction of amaretto and 151 and a kickback of Coors. The flames reflect in their eyes, their cheeks a soft amber, and most of them are smiling, not sincerely, but when was the last time you could give yourself over completely to joy? There's a siren in the distance. Someone says they're coming for us. I'm going to the bathroom. Do you need help? And there's this ceiling fan with LCD Christmas bulbs strung around the blades. A myriad of claustrophobic yellows and whites and blues. Have you seen that video of the ****** having a baby? And he brings it up on his phone. Someone says, Oh my god I love this song from the bathroom. I hadn't noticed the music before now. Drink this. What is it? You'll see. And Samantha she says she's got to step outside for a second. And someone drops a hookah coal on the beige carpet. There goes the deposit. There's incense. There's a Scentsy. There's Febreeze being sprayed liberally. Can you drive? Can you? Do you want to? You know? I've ate a lot today. The songs keep getting skipped. Parquet Courts, Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, Chvrches, Miley Cyrus—wait, wait put on some SWIFTY. We're going to fire up in my closet if you want to join. It's a walk-in. Evan's back now. He kicks a mirrorball across the kitchen tile with Chris, who's also back now. Where's Samantha? She's smoking. She shouldn't be alone. You remember last—That won't happen again. I'm just saying. Well, you can stop saying. Sirens again. Closer. We're in the walk-in. Kate tugs on my sleeve. I take a pull off the bronze pinch hitter. Do little circles with my head. ****, she says. What? It all starts fading out, the rush of dark, the rush of light. Someone says trash can. Sirens. I'm just trying to—Shut up. I'm just trying to—Shut up.

I lap a bit of the water out of my cupped hands,
then splash the rest on my battered face.
Evan looked at me like I was obscene,
left the room, slammed the door, burning,
Tyler was still nauseous, buried in the couch,
talked light about being surprised at his survival.
I made him some toast,
we tried to piece together the night,
but we only remembered that
he concocted some White Russian rip-off and called
it a Grey Romanian,
I talked to Rachel about *** and respect,
Evan wasn't very appreciative of the cake I baked,
nor was he kind to Shawna or Kara when
they gave him kickass gifts,
Bobby kept Tyler from drowning in his *****,
Lauren brought me a blanket when I was freezing,
I passed out in the bathroom,
and the general consensus was we need to slow down.

Tyler told me he felt like he needed to go to church.

I felt ***** too,
but it was more from the things I have seen,
I have touched, and God never could make me unsee, unfeel.

Tyler and I sat and talked like ancient men,
men who had far outlived their time,
and were just waiting for death's hour
to claim its ****.

Pure things come and find us,
we won't find you,
not down the road we've been taking.
Pure things,
the world should hang its head in shame
at all its ***** things.
Give us a revival.

The Grey Romanians, the depths,
and the *** aren't giving the answers
we expect.

I told Tyler I loved him,
walked out the door,
the sun was too bright,
I walked past an Asian lady,
her smile was insane,
I climbed in my car,
put on some Thelonious
and mended myself with each erased mile.

I was walking around Dylan's candy bar. I turned around suddenly and bumped into you. "I'm so sorry!" I said. You laughed and said "It's okay." I stared into your deep blue eyes. "Hi" you said, "Hello" I replied, "My name's Evan. I like your ring." I smiled, "Thank you. My name's Barker." "Are you new around here?" you asked while raising an eyebrow. "No actually, I was here 5 years ago." "Oh ****. Where are you from?" "Ottawa, Canada. You?" "Born and raised here in New York City. It's the only place I've ever known." You said with a smile. You shifted your weight. You seemed nervous. "I know we just met and this might sound crazy, but I was wondering if you would like to go out with me?" you said and I smiled and replied, "I would love to." We walked down and you showed me around New York City. We stopped at an arcade and we played a couple of games. We then continued roaming around. You brought me to a carnival just outside New Yor City. We went on the Ferris wheel and we held hands. We talked about our lives and things that were going on. When we reached the top you put your arm around me and when it was time for me to go you asked me for my number. I gave you my number and we started to text. When I went back home ou called me almost every night. One night we were talking you were walking on 3rd avenue. You made a joke and I was laughing. There was a sudden screech and a sound of a car hitting into something. I heard screams and shouting. People were yelling for someone to call 9-1-1. "Evan? Evan, what's happening?" I asked. You didn't respond. Someone picked up the phone and said "Hello? What is your relationship with this man?". A knot formed in my stomach.  "I'm his best friend." I replied, "Do you know what his name is? Where he lives? What his parents' number is?" I responded and told them your name, where you lived and your parents' number. "What happened?" I asked, "I'm sorry to say this, but your friend was struck by a car." My heart sunk. The person talked to me for a bit, trying his best to comfort me. The ambulance arrived first followed by the police. The person handed me over to the police. The police officer took the phone, "Hello, I heard that you were Evan's friend. I'm sorry to inform you, but he died." I was heartbroken. you were and still are my best friend and I miss you so much. I wish you were still here. I am staying strong. I hope heaven is treating you well. I love you.

This morning I woke up to a circus runaway
He was sitting in the kitchen
of the house I share with three boys
he eyed me in my pajamas

He was sitting in the kitchen
basking in the light of the morning
he eyed me in my pajamas
He works for the circus that stopped in town

He is Evan’s second cousin once removed
I fried us eggs while everyone else slept
He missed the circus train to Atlanta
and needed a place to stay.

I fried us eggs while everyone else slept
We watched the dogs playing in the yard
he needed a place to stay
and put his feet up on the table

He told me stories about working at the circus
I’ve always had a lingering curiosity
he put his feet up on the table
and had a girlfriend waiting for him in Charlotte

This morning I woke up to a circus runaway
I made him breakfast and then he had to leave
for a few minutes he talked with Evan
about traveling (running again) to India

I’ve always had a lingering curiosity
he eyed me in my pajamas
he had a girlfriend waiting for him in Charlotte
I made him breakfast and then he had to leave

The psychics were breathing smoke,
rummaging through my roommates collection of abstract art,
they told me what my favorite Modest Mouse album was,
they told me about my personality,
I told them I was a psychic,
they told me to *******.

Everyone assumes an original identity
in the self-inflicted apocalypse
provided by that old friend, alcohol.

Kevin was the smooth-talking,
drink-mixing extraordinaire.

Kara was the cynic.

Shawna was the kindhearted.

Evan was sober.

Tyler was in and out.

I was the ******* that took a party pill,
bounced off everyone with a handshake
and an apology.


We **** ourselves to resurrect,
piece together the discordance,
the chaos,
the girls.

While the psychics were breathing smoke,
while Kevin was collapsing,
while everyone was worried about me,
all I could say was,
"This is the happiest night of my life,
and that depresses the hell outta' me."

I longed for the sirens in the distance,
I took another drink,
I longed for renewed innocence,
I took another drink,
I longed for someone to lay beside me,
I took another drink,
it was finally enough.

I took off my shirt,
made war with the remnants of stability,
of sanity,
told my friends I loved them,
and hoped that my time ended in sync
with the sunrise.

The way you speak, brings joy to my head
Heals all the bad memories I witnessed
For you, I must love
Protect
Fight
You are the one
My only
Without you
I couldn't do a single thing
You and me being apart
Is like separating
Buttons from your cloak
Makes no sense
Which is why
We should never be apart
For you
O I ask for your hand
For your heart, you may be careful
As it had already dropped and shattered
O may you not do the same and be very careful
It is fragile you see
I love you my darling

You didn't do drugs
You didn't drink
You don't have a record
You graduated early
You know what you're doing with your life
You never asked for ***
You only kissed me sweetly
You love your music
You were the greatest and most respectable guy I've ever met
But you didn't love me
You never did
You never will
You left me here all alone in the dark without the thrill
You were the only guy worth keeping
You realized I'm worth leaving
You said I got too attached and it's true I did
You were so worth it to me but to you
I'm only a kid

Stop the music. Please, just stop the music....
Violin Cello Poetry:
      
                        Marry myself unto sleep again
one’s the one that usually is true
when again to curse the blue
Ella, I’m in Love with you.

I am a nightmare of the highest run to my parents degree
I give myself time to right the wrongs and to be
l(j)ust like every time to every clock to every rhyme
and every corner to every sign

through me you see ha to ha
Ellaaaaaha-ha Yes
Yes I knowing the know now
                        I have the right to sing well and ta da
Elaaaaaaaaaa
Elllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Blackout

When I wake up in the night
I already regret you
Palms and arms sweating
Wanting to consume you
I get up in the morning
Seeing you sit there empty
Hating who I am
With and without you
But as day turns back to night
Something inside me burns
I reach out to you once again
Just so I can watch myself drown

May 05, 2016: I am reposting this in honor of my wife, Karen, who left this mortal earth eight 1/2 years ago. Originally written and posted on September 17, 2014)*

This tree-
Is not just any 'ol tree'-

It's "The Grandmother Tree"

Having grown from a broken, eighteen inch high twig,
taken from its mother by the Texas wind.
Now, in just over six years, it rises nearly fifteen feet, for it was planted, and fed, with the love from two grandchildren, who planted it in memory of their grandmother, my wife, Karen, of 40 years, and their surviving grandmother, Linda.
Karen found it on our patio and placed it in a clay ***; watered it, and made a support for it to keep it upright. She wanted to plant it where it stands today. She had named it "The Evan and Emily Tree." When she left us, Emily and Evan planted it in the back yard of their home. They named it, "The Grandmother Tree."
The tree is home to the "Guardians", the "Keepers", the "Watchers", sent to protect their memories, then, now, and future. Enlarge it, and you might see them, if you look closely. There are monkeys sitting in the tree, and the silhouettes. To the left, is cast the shadow of a "little man", with arm extended, pointing upward. To the right of the tree, perhaps an ape like creature, or two, and the face of a "mystery man." Set your imagination "free",

For there could be others-
Look, and see.
You could be surprised!
copyright: richard riddle September 17, 2014 12:32pm

This tree
Is not just any 'ol tree-

It's "The Grandmother Tree"

Having grown from a broken, eighteen inch high twig,
taken from its mother by the Texas wind.
Now, in just over six years, it rises nearly fifteen feet, for it was planted, and fed, with the love from two grandchildren, who planted it in memory of their grandmother, my wife, Karen, of 40 years, and their surviving grandmother, Linda.
Karen found it on our patio and placed it in a clay ***; watered it, and made a support for it to keep it upright. She wanted to plant it where it stands today. She had named it "The Evan and Emily Tree." When she left us, Emily and Evan planted it in the back yard of their home. They named it, "The Grandmother Tree."
The tree is home to the "Guardians", the "Keepers", the "Watchers", sent to protect their memories, then, now, and future. Enlarge it, and you might see them, if you look closely. There are monkeys sitting in the tree, and the silhouettes. To the left, is cast the shadow of a "little man", with arm extended, pointing upward. To the right of the tree, perhaps an ape like creature, or two, and the face of a "mystery man." Set your imagination "free",

For there could be others-
Look, and see.
You could be surprised!
copyright: richard riddle September 17, 2014 12:32pm

I was awoken far to early it was dam near seven o clock in the evening .
The noise was insane then I finally turned off the music .
****** my four legged amigo truly needed to lay off the death metal
besides who wants to wake up to the spice girls really?

It was then I herd the crash as bottles flew from the wall.
****** did a big girl ****?
I looked outside trees were falling the wind was blowing worse
than some teen age girls backstage at a Justin Bieber concert .

**** my ******* neighbor went flying by and was impaled on a tree hey this ****** up weather wasn't all that bad .
I went outside to see if I could help or finish him off and see if he had any money on him.

Duh like I'm going to help that *****.
He? wakes me up every morning going to his silly job and calls me a drunken pervert cause I hit on his girlfriend look telling someone they have awesome **** is a compliment okay.

Hey Chris how are ya bud .?
Well being I'm impaled on your tree and have a garden gnome up my *** pretty ******* bad you idiot!

Well somebody's in a grouchy mood and Chris you can keep the gnome amigo hey whatever kind of ***** ***** your into is okay I'm mean sure your a ******* freak and I will probably tell all the world about you
But hey that's cause I'm a drunken perverted ******* .
But enough about my good quality's.

What the hell are you doing here you idiot!
Don't you know there's a mandatory evacuation going on cause of the hurricane?
I was confused by what this strange ***** impaled on my tree was saying.

That and I didn't know what mandatory meant maybe it was some strange ****** term ******* ****** .
Look man I don't swing that way okay that was just something I did for money once okay don't judge me.

What the **** are talking about you crazy ******* !
Honestly Chris sometimes I don't even know **** man its real windy out today .

That's cause there's a hurricane coming you idiot .
Oh well that would explain the wind You know Chris your a real ***** but besides that you really are observant .
Well nice talking to you amigo I got to have a couple cocktails
watch some ***** movies I like to think of it as part of my creative
process have fun hanging around.

I was walking away as my annoying ******* neighbor called out .
Aren't you forgetting something you crazy *******.!?
****** I really was slipping I thought to myself as I pulled out my trusty knife .

What the hell Man!
Look Chris I got to **** you or you'll turn its only right duh
haven't you seen the walking dead ******* ?
Hey by the way being your going to be dead and all can I have your girlfriend ?

What the hell is wrong with you I'm not a zombie you idiot
I'm alive I'm just impaled on your ******* tree .
Yeah that's what they all say then next thing you know you have turned
and we got you and all your zombie buddies trying to bite my *** .

Please .
Was the last thing my ******* neighbor said well that and ouch as I plunged the knife into his skull I really felt bad he was not such a a bad kid.
I'm kidding he was a **** and now that the end of the world was coming you had to look out for yourself .

But enough with the foreplay children.

Me and my loyal talking dog slash whatever the **** he was were about to light up a joint and pour are first round when everything went black.

Much like radio these days.

It was then it hit me what Chris had said.
The wind him flying through air ******* ****** a hurricane is
coming.

I screamed a manly scream and did what any strong male writer would do cried and hid under the bed with a bottle of Jack Daniels and my talking dog ****** .

**** man why didn't I ever watch the news ?
Cause your always watching **** ******* .
****** spoke .
Why the hell didn't you tell me this was happening if you knew ******?
Cause I have to watch what you watch ******* I don't have any hands .
Now stop being a ***** and lets get out of here .

What !
Have you lost your mind there's a storm out there .
Yeah and half the people have left this place and wont be back for awhile its party time you scared *****.

I thought to myself its hell being talked down to by someone who eats crap out in the front yard but he had a point .
This hurricane was terrible people had to abandon there homes .
And all there awesome stuff and it was simply going to go to waste duh
why not break in and enjoy it for them It's what Jesus would do.

I don't mean that guy in the book I mean that dude who works down at the garage and drives a low rider .
Course he was a ex con  once meant he really knew a lot about life
and how to hide things up his **** true wisdom .

Me and ****** were off we drove around till we found the most awesome house that just happened to be sheriffs house .
It was totally kick *** we drank kick *** top shelf whiskey smoked some good **** and other drugs that ***** had taken from me over the years .

Not that I do drugs I'm kidding I'm ****** up now how do you think I come up with this ****.
We went through house after house eat real food something actual writers can seldom afford duh like this **** pays.

The storm raged through the night .
Trees fell but being I was higher than Jesus I could truly give a **** hamsters.

It seemed like days bled into weeks we drank and lived as kings .
Played fun games like indoor target practice .
I was bout ready to call it a night and curl up with my favorite girl
Evan Williams .

When all the sudden some strange man was yelling at me in my own house .
What the **** are you doing here and why did your dog crap in my bathtub.

Excuse me Larry this is a simple misunderstanding Cindy may I say you have a marvelous rack I said to the woman standing at his side .
How the hell do you know are names ?

Duh cause of those awesome home movies you made on that video camera that was still charged up after you left.
The woman's face flushed red.

Oh my God Larry I told you we shouldn't have filmed that!
Hey I have to say miss the way you handled that three way with the two dwarfs well it is truly ******* awesome man you two people are freaks .

My new buddy Larry must be so happy cause he couldn't even speak he just shook with happiness .
His wife didn't even look at me well I have that effect on women .

Hey I was thinking you know I love the arts myself I'm thinking Cindy me some drinks that kick *** hot tub not the other one ****** took a crap in sorry bout that he just lacks culture unlike myself .

It was then Larry flipped out using his outdoor voice indoors he grabbed me by the throat I screamed **** cause I yet again forgot my trusty **** whistle dam you hurricane!

I was thrown down the stairs I was beaten I swear you housesit without asking go through peoples home ***** movies and your dog takes a crap in there tub and they blow it all out of proportion .
Guess I wasn't going to be getting a tip ungrateful ******* !

The Hurricane had torn up this small island were I lived and apparently vandals had broken into peoples houses and stolen most all the ***** in there houses how terrible.

I made my way back to my trusty bar poured me a drink and sat on my favorite stool.

**** Gonz you made it out of there I was truly worried for you.
****** said as he turned on the blender .
Yeah he couldn't change the channel but he could talk and mix drinks something just wasn't right with that picture course he was from Kentucky .

Yeah no thanks to you .
You little ******* !
Hey boss don't be mad I got something for you as he placed the the video camera on the table.

I had to lighten up the power was back on we had stayed drunk through such harsh times and got some freaky home movies from those weirdos we house sat for.

I took a sip of the margarita toasted my little friend.
Well bud we made it after all.

We spent the night as all others before drinking are livers silly
cutting bad jokes telling ****** up stories like these that make you wonder when the **** they will ever end .

Until next time  hamsters .

Stay Crazy

Gonzo

24 is an age of paradox. A type of 'adulthood puberty' full of change, hair in strange places or colors, and a continual battering of unprecedented demands and expectations.

Conversations evolve. Your phone calls with parents and family become more frequent and important than ever before. They also consist of bites "Your mother and I were married at 21" "How are your savings going?" "Taxes are due on Tuesday" Something involving grandchildren rears its head weekly. How you talk to friends changes as well. The college friends no longer talk about hilarious nights at the bars-your conversations center on reminiscing, planning trips to the mountains, and genuine encouragement. Scotch and Gin have replaced well drinks and Evan Williams-thanks be to God. If you are blessed to have good friends from high school and eras prior the conversations are a combination of dreaming about the far future, checking in on aging family, and an underlying theme of ******* about work.

Making new friends is ******* exhausting. You are all lonely, craving to be known deeply. Liz Lemon screams the mantra of 24, "Yes to staying in more! Yes to Netflix and night cheese! Yes to drinking a beer alone!" Even the most extravagant of extroverts start to value solitude. This is not bad. This is a sign of growth. Herein enters the necessity of balance; commit to investing in those around you and to investing in yourself.

Parents told us "You can be the president! Fly to the moon! Cure cancer!" Those time-stamped conversations are over a decade old. We settled for status on campus via greek life, leadership positions, or achieving a 4.0 GPA. Post-grad none of us are president of anything nor have we walked the lunar surface. For most, a 5 digit salary without benefits equates our level of success. Some have babies or marriage bands, some have masters degrees. The awakening of 24 is sharp. After two decades of being promised we will all achieve the best, we walk in a daze of wondering if we have failed. We have not. Yet we feel the weight of failure. There is much ahead.

At 24 we learn that the promise of the "much ahead" is not guaranteed. Death becomes terrifyingly more constant. Friends, grandparents, teachers, even ones younger than us seem to be dying at a more rapid rate. This is new and it is terrifying. It teaches the importance of community, conversations, and creating.

We may not yet, or ever, be president of the USA. But we have lived enough to know what skills we enjoy and what talents we harbor. The importance of using them rings deeper than ever before-it resonates in our bones. The joy of a well prepared dinner, a thirty-minute watercolor creation, or a blog post your three followers may or may not read in its entirety is a joy worth the effort.

At 24, we are in transition. We are beginning to admit certain unalienable truths about this world and ourselves. We are beginning to really become.

I'll be your guide when shadows fall
A protector strong, through it all
From whispered secrets to shared dreams
In this sibling love, forever it gleams

Though paths may differ, and years may pass
Know that my love will forever amass
For you, dear brother, my heart beats true
Forever and always, I'm here for you