I cannot believe I just read the last line of the last Harry Potter book. I know, I know. Adults who read Harry Potter are absolute losers who need to grow up and stop reading children’s books. I agree with you 100 %. That is to say I did until I had 2 weeks of vacation time to burn and absolutely no money to go anywhere in the fall of 2005. So I took a journey to Hogwart’s by way of a Palm Coast living room. I have to honestly say it didn’t take long before I was zipping through the books in 2 or 3 sittings. Considering how many pages each of them ran, that is saying a lot. This last one was nearly 800 pages long and I was done in less than 3 days. That was while holding down a job and still remembering to shave, shower and eat.

The first two movies never caught my interest, but it was on the cinematography and fantastic story of the third film that I decided to give this series a chance. I guess the point I’m getting at is if you are anti-Potter (as I DEFINITELY was) then I say take a chance and read one of the books. I had every reason to hate the books spanning every excuse from religion to a burning desire to not be perceived as a total dork. Today, the way this series ended actually brought me to tears and I’m not one to cry. I certainly didn’t cry when George Lucas finally wrapped up the Star Wars saga and I lived and breathed all things Star Wars as a kid. Reluctantly as an adult I came to know a story that rivaled and perhaps even surpassed the lore of the Skywalker family.

I’ve always had a bit of a loner streak. This week will test it. Most of my friends are out of town. My fiancée is out of town. My social calendar has dropped to nil. It is good in a way because it will give me some down time to evaluate life and my current state of existence. The bad side is with too much time alone also comes too much time to think. And think I will. I just started a sentence with a conjunction. Bad English major. I just slapped my own hand.

So the Transformers movie was awesome. I’ll spare you the fanboy geekdom and just say it did some things with CGI that will be hard to top. Oh and it had a story too. Are you listening George Lucas? I like to think he reads my blog.


Maybe this will be the week I finally start the great American novel or get more proficient on the guitar. I need to pick up my guitar froma friend's house. That requires effort.Chances are instead of building a Habitat for Humanity house or creating something truly original, I’ll probably opt out and watch too much TV.
That is sad and I’m sorely disappointed in my apathy.

Am I the only person disturbed by this Marriot Courtyard ad?

With insomnia, nothing is real.
Everything is far away. Everything
is a copy of a copy of a copy.
-Fight Club



There’s nothing more depressing than being up in the dead middle of the night. Late night is the domain of the partying alcoholic and early morning is the time the health nuts take to the streets to jog away more miles than the average American walked last year. A select few of us live in the gray hours in between.

Nothing positive happens at 3 AM. TV is mostly infomercials and most of those are for “Girls Gone Wild.” I suspect there’s a lot of self-pleasure in the middle of the night. The questions for me, aside from the obvious “what am I doing up at this hour?” always revolve around what causes insomnia. Some nights I sleep just fine and others I don’t sleep at all. I’m chalking this one up to Claritin D and the heat of a July night in Florida. Maybe I’ll drop the AC down. If only it were that simple.

At some point soon, I’ll become completely exhausted and go to bed. I may get 3 hours, I may get 1. Is there a point where even sleeping at all is pointless? Tomorrow (or I guess today since we’re almost 5 hours deep into July 3rd) will find me in a zombie-like haze. I’ll be cranky all day. I’ll definitely not bring my “A game” to anything. I’ll probably drink too much coffee to compensate. Then the cycle begins again.

I suppose the worst part about not sleeping is how much more difficult it makes everything else. In a few hours, I’ll be sitting in the gym wondering why my muscles burn so badly on a third repetition or sitting at my desk trying to finish the sentence I started. Judgment, speed, coordination, articulation. These are the casualties of chronic sleeplessness. My parents are bad sleepers, so maybe it is genetic. It makes since that the ones who slept the worst were probably least likely to have some carnivorous predator catch them off guard in the wee hours. Of course, I don’t think I’d run form danger very well after 2 hours of restless sleep.


The funny part is this really had no point. It is 5 AM and I should be in bed.