Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar

The weather today was glorious. Warm enough to go swimming, but cool enough to wear jeans. A nice, laid back breeze, happy children running through the fields....

I had something in mind to write about, but seem to have forgotten it. So why am I bothering posting? Maybe I just feel the need to share something, anything; maybe it's purely ego driven. Ah, that's something to explore, how much influence the ego has over this blog. Let's explore, dear readers.

My original intention with this blog was to have a forum in which I could keep my writing chops up, such as they were, with the secondary purpose of sharing some of my life with a legion of faithful readers (Well, maybe not that many and maybe not that faithful, but let's just say I envisioned at least a handful of readers who checked in fairly often). And I also figured I could use the blog as a means of work-shopping things that were on my mind. You know, like trying to work out why, despite my pure-heartedness, classic good looks, and modest demeanor, women find me utterly repulsive in almost every conceivable way.

Of course, the ego has a role in the goings on here, but I try to keep it subdued. I'm not sure of the source, and I'm paraphrasing, but it's been said that many people get married because they need a witness to their lives. There's the ego for you. Is this blog my wife, my witness? I suppose it is. Otherwise, I'd keep the damn thing private, or not do it at all. But, and I can say this with confidence, the ego plays a limited role here. Let me clarify: I try to keep its role limited. The ego is a crafty little git and a master of disguise. I'm sure it's exerted its will in ways I haven't been privy to. You could argue this entire post is the ego posing as my ego-less, divine, self. Ah, who cares if it is.

You can see the ego in full bloom on Facebook. Not with everyone, but some people give their egos free reign there. And, really, it's an easy thing to do, given the nature of the site. Some people are just more obvious about it. A post like "Just got back from partying in Milan" is an example. I can't think of any other likely reason to post something like that other than to stroke the ego. Then there's "vaguebooking", which is such an overt call for attention, it makes my stomach queasy. " Here we go again" or " This is amazing!" are examples of it. You can't just come out with it, you have to make the reader pull the information out of you. "What do you mean, here we go again? Everything alright?" Fuck that, I say. I make it a point not to reply to vaguebookers. Get other people to play your little games.

By the way, I like Facebook. It's a great way to stay connected to friends and family and it can even be educational. Sure there are braggarts and vaguebookers, but you'll find them everywhere. Even on this here blog (Hey, it happens).

Oh, the dream! That's what I was going to write about. It was short and strange. I was a contestant on Survivor, or a show very much like it. One challenge, and I think it was the first, was like dodgeball, only instead of using balls, slices of pizza would be thrown. I was the target. I saw, immediately prior to the commencement of the game, that some people had plastic guns that were to shoot meatballs at me. This was in addition to the people who would be throwing pizza slices at me. I determined that my strategy was going to be one in which I'd let them shoot/throw first and then I'd duck and dodge. I had a feeling that these missiles would be easy enough to avoid. I was right. The meatballs shot out of the plastic guns like they were on Valium and the pizza slices weren't very aerodynamic or easy to project. I weaved in an out of the incoming artillery with ease. Nothing struck me and I won the contest.

I was a hero. Everyone came over to congratulate me and I felt slightly undeserving, but only slightly. A former coworker of mine from years past came up to me. I hadn't seen her in years and, man, she was looking fine. She made it clear that she was very impressed with my athleticism and wanted to pursue something amorous with me. I was all for it. Amidst the hand shaking, cheers, and other methods of adulation, I woke up.

I'm not even going to bother trying to figure this one out, but we were just discussing the ego....

Alright, I'm off to do things like read, meditate, and finish my tasty coffee.

When they get back, they're all mixed up, with no one to stay with

So far this weekend...

Early Saturday, I walked to Fresh Pond and visited Newbury Comics and then Trader Joe's. Outside Trader Joe's, I witnessed a sight I had been seeing over the last couple of weeks. There were people situated in front of a squat and bulky office building with expensive looking cameras and binoculars. The first couple of times I had witnessed this, I figured they were taking photos of the building to be used for advertising purposes. Seemed unlikely, however, that people would be there all the time for something like that.

I walked over to the group of people and followed the line of sight from their binoculars and cameras to the area of the building they were focused on. There I saw, near the top, a makeshift nest with what appeared to be hawks in it. I asked a woman sitting in a lawn chair what type of birds they were looking at . "Red Tail Hawks", she said. I wondered what all the fuss was about. Hawks are fairly prevalent around these parts. I used to see them all the time circling my dad's pigeon coop. "We're waiting to see the babies leave the nest for the first time", the woman said after a couple of minutes. She handed me the binoculars and I took a look. My dad would love this, I thought. He's always been a bird enthusiast and, by extension, so have I.

Fred's girlfriend, Danielle, is up for the weekend. She's a tornado, that one, and when I heard her voice coming from his room the other day, I discarded any notion I had of a relatively quiet weekend around the house. I like Danielle- I had a nice conversation with her and understand her personality type from past experience - but I it's been a challenge dealing with her presence. Last night, I finally had enough of the all the door slamming going on downstairs. It was a combination of the intensity and the frequency that provided the impulse to ask them to cease and desist. Really, it would be like every thirty of forty seconds. SLAM....SLAM....SLAM....SLAM. My room would shake and I'd be startled almost every time. I spoke with them in the kindest way I could muster and they were apologetic.

Mara stopped by Saturday afternoon with my neighbor's kids in tow. Mara had been babysitting them while Ed and Elena were at a wedding and got locked out of the house when Mara went to pay for the pizza that had just arrived. She asked if they could eat it in our house, but the kids were too scared to come in so they went back to their house and ate on the porch. I went over and visited until reinforcements in the form of Ed and Elena's friends came over to take the kids. I went back home to await Craig's arrival and hung out with Fred and Danielle on the porch. Mara came back and wanted to hang out until Ed and Elena came back. We didn't talk much; Mara curled up on the couch and yawned and said how tired she was. I wonder if I bring that out in her.

Went to the dog beach with Spira yesterday. Missy was a sight to behold when she got a burst of energy and ran full speed along the beach. A torpedo that one. Nothing like watching a greyhound going full tilt.

Just watched the Anvil documentary and will read from A Clash of Kings at some point. Woke up late last night feeling a bit of despair. Strange, that. I read some Eckhart Tolle, found my center, and drifted back to sleep. I awoke this morning from a dream in which I moved back to my parent's house and moved out the same day after my parent's suggested I write a note to a distant family member that had just arrived in town. "You know, Kevin, everyone else in the family has reached out but you". Insulted, guilt-ridden, and angry, I got the fuck out of dodge with nowhere to go.

Not surprisingly, I spent part of the morning trying to shake the feeling of loneliness.

I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are

I've been trying to be vigilant against destructive thought patterns, but sometimes a stray thought or two breaches my defenses. That is fine, I'm not about to force the issue. No, instead I'm trying to be like the lillies in the field; I will not be weighed down, I declare!

My day was a fine one. I felt present and comfortable in my skin throughout. The weather was glorious, my interactions with people accomplished with ease. Ah, to be pure of heart.
Still, when I arrived home from work, I found myself beginning to stew over a thing or two without realizing it. Demons, be gone! I practiced yoga, got my center back.

I discovered something recently. Turns out, I'm not that much of a sports viewer anymore. I've never been a complete sports nut, but I used to watch a lot of hockey and, more recently, basketball. I'd watch football and baseball here and there, too. Lately, though, I don't really have the desire to sit through any sports event.

Because we don't have the Versus network in my house, I'm missing all of the Bruins playoff games. They are one win away from going to the finals, and I'm really not that peeved that I'm missing out. I wasn't even that into watching the Celtics playoff run. I was going through the motions more often than not.

Is it because I don't have anyone to watch sports with? Would it make a difference if I was hanging out regularly with sports junkies? Maybe, but, as it happens, I do have friends I could watch games with. I just don't pursue it. Guess I'm changing. I hope I never lose my fierce interest in Beanie Babies.

And, dear readers, you better hope I don't lose my interest in this blog because what would you do without it? Really, what would you do? Live happy, productive lives? Sure, but there will be a part of you, maybe the size of a flea, that will think upon all the great times you had reading my witty, fun-packed, cerebral, and often courageous, blog, and feel lousy about its absence.

Now it's time to feel sad about something else, as yet to be determined.

All aboard that train.

Listening to Crosby, Stills, & Nash. I really love that self-titled album. Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, Guinevere, Helplessly Hoping......beautiful stuff. I hear this album and I'm back in the car, driving through the mountains of Vermont at sunset and contemplating a life there; earthy-crunchy, a wife and friends, love and warmth. I envisioned a farm....


We wear many masks, we see many lives.

I went for a run today, but it was so muggy, I didn't go as far as I usually do. I've been doing so much yoga lately, running has taken a back seat. Need to even it out, though all the yoga has made me feel as limber as a cat and strong as a lion. A lion, I say!

Somehow Pooch Edward Bottoms ended up spending the day in the basement. Not sure exactly how it happened, but I'm sure it had something to do with me going down there at one point to collect some clothes from the dryer. As I left for work, I noticed his absence, but figured he was with Janelle or the dog walker. When I came home, I went for the aforementioned run, ate dinner, did laundry. It was when I made my down to the basement that I discovered PEB had been home all along. I felt bad, but not terribly so. I think he liked it down there, quite frankly. It was nice and cool and there is much to explore. Probably goes some way in explaining why I never heard a peep out of him. Still, I fed him some cheese, took him outside, and told him I was sorry.

Poor Janelle. I just picked her up in Cambridge. She had been running with PEB and her car key escaped from her shoe, rendering her transportation-less. A nearby garage is making her a new key. Fortunately, Trader Joe's was close. They sell dumplings that make everything all right.

And remember this: Silence is the voice of God. Everything else is a rough translation.

Me and my woman

Ran into Sarah at Trader Joe's yesterday. I hadn't seen her in years, not since Foley's wedding, but, as things go these days, I'm friends with her on Facebook and occasionally communicate with her there, so it seems like it hasn't been that long. Anyway, it was nice seeing her. We have similar tastes in music and film, so our conversation ranged from Werner Herzog, the Fleet Foxes show and new record, Guy Maddin, to Tom Waits. Considering how rare it is I get to talk shop with someone about stuff like that, I probably should have asked her to hang out some time, but it didn't feel right to do so. Maybe I over-thought it. I do wish I told her about the weird Simpsons synchronicity.

One day she posted a Homer Simpson quote on Facebook and it gave me an itch to watch the episode it derived from. I own a couple of seasons on DVD. I popped in a random disc, selected a random episode and, no shit, it was the same one the quote was from. The odds against this happening are pretty great, especially considering how long the show has been on. I wonder what it all means.
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We were supposed to meet with Jeff today to find out what was going on with our jobs. I maintained a level of presence leading up to the announcement that prevented me from feeling any anxiety about it. I was at work for about an hour when Jeff left the office. He was gone for several hours. At around one, I left for Nashua to record some docs at the registry. Looked like I was going to have to wait to find out.

Jeff called me in the car and apologized for having to tell me over the phone, but he had gotten back to the office later than he expected and, in the interest of not prolonging it, told every one what was going to happen. The long and short of it is we're each going to have to forfeit a day of work while the company limps along. Despite this cut, I was pleased with the news because A) I still have a job and B) I expected, if we were to remain open, there to be a more significant cut in hours, like down to one or two days a week. So, there's that. Now, at least, I'll have income while I pursue another job.

Another gloomy day, but better weather is forecast for the days ahead. I actually don't mind the cool, overcast weather so much. Great for sleeping and conducive to curling up with a book. Still, I'm looking forward to some sun, son!

Pretty girls with faces fair, see the shine in the Black Sheep Boy

What happens when you sit and listen to Roy Harper's Stormcock? Well, you enjoy it, of course, provided you like music. In case you don't know, I like music very much, so I'm having a good time. Speaking of music, I saw Fleet Foxes earlier this week. A dirty secret of mine, in spite of enjoying music very much, is that I've never been a huge fan of live music. Often, even when it's an artist or band I really like, I silently pray for the show to hurry up and end so I can go home and do stuff I really want to do. Not sure exactly why this is - I could pontificate it over it for you, but let's not do that, shall we? Anyway, what am I getting at? Oh, the Fleet Foxes show. It was a good one. Packed house at the Orpheum, a panoply of testosterone-addled frat boy shouting and whoofing (An odd element given the band's gentle, almost hippy, vibe. I wonder if these guys thought they were at a Kid Rock show), and representative set of songs from the band's discography. So who did I go with? Well, if you're keeping tabs, I went with Aviv, Janelle, Spira, and Pam. So now that you're equipped with that info, let's move on to everyone's favorite subject: romantic love!

This morning, I was reading some Chuck Klosterman and he was riffing about how when he was younger he had idealized a woman he hadn't even met yet, had only heard about through friends, to such a degree that he was convinced she was his soul mate. Nothing came of it. I think we've all been through something like this. I know I have. I think back to Julie.

When I was in high school, I had a serious crush on her. We were juniors and I sat behind her in English class. I used to swoon whenever she'd turn around and acknowledge me. She was beautiful - wavy chestnut hair, classic features. I felt I had a chance with her; she was popular, but not much more than I was and, as it happened, we worked at the same grocery store.

I worked in the produce section and one day spilled my guts to Pete The Greek, my coworker. He seemed to know a lot about women, so I felt he was the guy to talk to. He counseled that I should tell Julie how I felt, that I should do it immediately, on that very shift. I wasn't ready to do that, but he made it clear that he'd do it for me if I didn't. So, after work, as we waited for our rides in front of the store, I asked her out. She told me she'd think about it. Not a great sign, but it wasn't a no.

The next day in class she told me she told me she couldn't, in good conscience, go out with me, because her best friend and coworker of ours, Kristen, liked me. I was not expecting this. I barely had any interaction with Kristen. I also was not attracted to her in the slightest. In retrospect, it was obvious Julie wasn't interested and was lying about Kristen. She was banking on the likelihood I wouldn't go ahead and pursue Kristen. At the time, I half suspected it was a lie, but I also suspected it was the truth and my own shit luck.

A year or so after high school, with Julie relegated to the back of my brain, I was working at a local restaurant. One day, on my way in to work, I saw an attractive woman walking. It was Julie! I had to do a double take, but I was convinced. From that point on, I would frequently see her walking alongside the road. This was torture, it rekindled old feelings and set me to pining for her again.

To complicate matters, I overheard one of the floor managers at work on the phone talking about her son's girlfriend, Julie. Yes, the same Julie. I had no beef with her son, who has since passed away, but I felt as if I was the victim of a cruel cosmic joke. Everything fell apart the day my car hit a tree.

I was driving home, the roads were covered with snow; treacherous conditions. A few streets from my house, I lost control of the car, veered off the road and hit a tree. My car was totaled. I was supposed to register for classes the following day. I didn't have the money to get a new car and pay for classes. And without a car, I wouldn't be able to get to school.

That night, Sean and I went to see a movie. He did his best to cheer me up, but it wasn't an easy task. Before the movie started, I spied Julie and my coworker's son sitting a few rows in front of us. Guess which direction my mood went.

So that punctuated my Julie experience. After that, I hardly, if ever, thought of her again. I saw her on Facebook recently. She's still a knockout. Oh, I forgot to add that shortly after seeing her at the movies, I saw her walking again. Only, upon closer inspection, I discovered that it wasn't her, had never been. This woman was a dead ringer for Julie, I could see how I mistook her. Still, what the fuck? Looking back, the whole thing was strange and unnecessary.

I never knew Julie that well. I'm sure she had no idea what I went through, had no clue about any of it beyond the night I asked her out. My feelings for her resided mostly in the realm of fantasy. Years later, I had similar feelings for another woman, but this time it was based more in reality, it was tangible. Didn't come to fruition, but it was progress. Is romantic love purely the stuff of fantasy? Is the notion of having a soul mate unrealistic?

The answer to both questions is yes, but not a hard yes. Relationships take work. They don't function well if they cull from the fairy tale rule book. In other words, they're not ethereal things. In order to succeed, they need to have weight, with feet planted firmly in the soil. Ah, but without romance, relationships become stale, business arrangements. Fuck that!

I consider myself an artist and being one, I don't have much use for the boring, the rote. I see so many relationships mired in mediocrity. Why bother? I'll leave you with the prevailing image I have of my deceased grandparents. I used to spend a lot of time with them at their cabin up in Maine. Almost every day at sunset, they'd sit on the dock by the lake with their arms around each other and watch the sun go down. Despite whatever difficulties they may have had throughout the course of their days, they always made time for that.

Players only play when they are playing

Last night's Game of Thrones was a good one. It was neat watching events transpire that I had just read about hours earlier. I've put aside my Wheel of Time re-read in favor of Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire re-read because the long awaited fifth installment will be hitting the shelves in July. I'm a little more than halfway through A Game of Thrones. The next two books are massive and the fourth is nothing to scoff at. Not sure I'll have finished by July, but these books are pure sugar and consumed quickly and lustily. That's right, I said lustily. Got a problem with that?

Watched Black Swan yesterday. In my last post, I referenced it as The Black Swan. My bad. Please forgive me. Anyway, I enjoyed the film, but wasn't as blown away by it as many others were. When it was in theaters, it was not uncommon to see comments on Facebook declaring its awesomeness. I don't think I read one comment that stated it was anything less than sublime. I knew going in that it would probably wouldn't live up to the hype, but, as I said, I enjoyed it, quite a bit, actually, but I can name several movies I've seen recently I thought were better. Glad I saw it, though. Natalie Portman, now she was sublime.

A dreary day, and we've got many more ahead of us. The winter sucked and now spring is being a little bastard. I shudder to think what summer has in store for us.

My sister's birthday is today. I was going to call her earlier, but my phone's battery was low. I'll call her now.

Cheers.

When it's time from work to go, and in my boat I row, across the muddy Ohio, when the evening light is falling

Sunday morning. Cloudy (again). Listening to one of Glenn Branca's symphonies, soon to be followed by some Phillip Glass. Sipping coffee. I can't say for sure, but this is shaping up to be a lazy day. If so, it would not be inconceivable that I read from A Game of Thrones, watch Black Swan or Guy & Madeline On A Park Bench, meditate, take a nap.

Last night, Spira and Missy The Dog came over for dinner. Janelle made vegetable lasagna and we attempted to watch Snatch. Didn't make it very far into it, outside influences prevented a focused viewing, but we had plenty of good conversation. Missy The Dog snapped at Baby Boy Z at one point. Seems BBZ had the audacity to attempt to retrieve his bone from Missy, who had been dining on it for a few minutes. Spira had been worried that Zico would be the one to take offense, a conceivable outcome, but, as it happened, it was Missy who flashed her temper. BBZ barely noticed; he just wandered over to another toy. Spira quelled the situation swiftly, but it was unexpected to see Missy The Dog, usually one of the most sweetest and docile dogs, lash out like that. Well, I shouldn't have been surprised, I suppose. After all, she is a savage animal beneath the veil of domesticity. Savage, I tell you!

A word about The Office. Increasingly, ever since Season 4, I've been torn over whether the show has jumped the shark or whether it is still a good, viable, show whose only sin is not being able to live up to the high standards of the first three seasons. Probably a bit of both, I determined. I'm still of that mind, but lately the quality has been high.

I expected the show to plummet towards mediocrity with the departure of its figurehead, Michael Scott, but the opposite seems to be the case. The show feels revitalized, fresh. Maybe, and time will tell, this shakeup was needed. Things were becoming rote, stale. I suspect this was a factor in Steve Carrell's exit.

We have a tendency in our culture to run a thing into the ground. I was reminded of this the other day when the song "Sex & Candy" came on the radio. Was it Marcy's Playground who wrote that? I forget and I don't care to remember. Nirvana came along, had a hit with "Smells Like Teen Spirit", something not wholly original, but completely refreshing, and the record companies flocked to sign every band that had that sound. I hear "Sex and Candy", such a blatant and weak rip off of Nirvana, as much or more than the band they stole from. We were inundated with Nirvana-esque bands for years and that dampened the impact of Nirvana.

I may have strayed from my point, but let me wrap it up. What I'm getting at is sometimes you've got to quit while you're ahead. Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant ended their version of The Office and the show Extras after two seasons. They didn't want to put out an inferior product, to face the looming specter of that shark.

The US version of The Office has maintained a standard high enough to keep me interested. Especially over the last few seasons, it's had the feel of being a little too self-congratulatory at times, a little too broad, and a little too precious. As for being broad, I learned from watching commentaries throughout the first few seasons (yes, I watch commentaries) that this was something they took pains to avoid.

Still, given the premise of the show, an office being filmed for a documentary, the weak spots I listed above make sense in the overall arc of the show. I don't care who you are, if you've been filmed for years by a documentary crew, knowing full well, especially in light of the popularity of reality based entertainment, you could achieve a level of celebrity from it, how you behave will change. If The Office had not been filmed documentary style, the increasingly over exaggerated antics of the staff would have felt more out of place.

So it makes sense that the staff at Dunder Mifflin would become heightened versions of themselves. The hi-jinks they get themselves into, whether by design or happenstance, fit into this larger than life spectrum of reality television. Take the character Ryan. What I liked about him in the first few seasons was that he was just an ordinary young man wanting nothing more than to do his job and go home. He became something entirely different. The shy, ordinary, man became an obnoxious, self-involved prick. I didn't like this outcome, it didn't seem likely he'd end up like that. But, again, it makes sense, when the show's premise is considered. Actually, his development is a brilliant stroke, a harsh commentary on the corrupting power of reality television.

I could go on, but I want to get my day started. So, to sum up: The Office has regained its mojo, but perhaps, upon closer inspection, it never lost it.

Rebound, rebound, rebound, rebound - ready, ok!

During a run the other day, I had to sidestep several people who were about to walk right into me because they were texting and almost completely unaware of their surroundings. I say they were texting - some were, for sure- but I'm sure it was more than that; they may have been playing Angry Birds or surfing the web.

By no means do I intend to suggest advancements in technology are uniformly unhealthy, but it's disconcerting to see people become so unaware, so not present as a consequence. It has not been uncommon to see groups of people paying more attention to their phones or lap tops than to each other. They're together, but only in the strictest sense of the word. It's one reason I don't have a burning desire to get an iPhone. Seems like almost everyone I know who's gotten one has become its bitch, for lack of a better word. I was at a gathering recently that was not everything it could have been because of this divided attention.

I'm not against technology, it has improved and has the capacity to improve our lives in a panoply of ways. Like with anything, it can be used for good or ill. Guess I've just been seeing more of the ill lately.

I can be cruel, but let me be gentle with you

I feel good right now. Just finished a dinner of dumplings, hamburger and mixed greens. Before that a session of yoga, which was one of the most fulfilling I've ever had. So, yes, I feel good. Now.

Now.

More than ever, it's been essential to focus on the present, the only moment there ever is. I've been pretty successful. At times, I've been assaulted with the buzzing of negative thoughts and despair, but they haven't been able to cling, take root, and overcome me. Not yet. Now, keep focused on the now. My mantra.

This week has been trying, to be sure. I'm faced with some serious changes that may completely hamstring me, but I'm not going to view it like that. I have the sense that this is a key point in my life and, in many ways, I'm ready to embrace the changes coming up. There will be bumps, but, I don't know, maybe I'm delusional, but I think some good things are ahead. Sure, ideally I wouldn't be having to deal with so much at once, but that's what's in front of me, the cards I've been dealt. Maybe I should be freaking out, but I'm not. Maybe that accounts for something.

I fight the parts of me that want to lash out, that wants to get pissed, be the victim. It's been a battle, especially this past week, but, as I said, I've been handling it well, coming out the other end stronger, perhaps wiser.

Changes. I knew they were coming. Right into my loving arms.

There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza

My day started well; I was energetic and lighthearted. As the day progressed, I started feeling strange. Not in pain, not even uncomfortable, but strange. Around one o'clock, I experienced a very strong wave of deja vu. It was like a prophecy coming to pass, with a rapid convergence of preordained moments that pieced together like a puzzle. It was such a strong feeling, it left me disoriented.

I was at my desk when it happened. I stretched behind me to put a file down and when I positioned myself back to my computer everything felt familiar, significant. Jeff came into the office. I knew it a split second before it happened. Things falling into place. And once Jeff arrived, I knew he would soon be calling us into the office to tell us we were closing up shop.

He did so about a half hour later. He told us that unless a miracle happens, we'll be closing up shop very soon. He's been trying to figure a way to keep us running, but business has not been good, he and Chris, his wife, haven't been making any money for a long time. If we do stay open, it will mean more cuts in hours. He advised us to look for work and not depend on us staying afloat. Maureen cried, the rest of us sat in silence. It was evident Jeff hated telling us, but he didn't want to forestall it any longer.

In two weeks, we'll meet back with him and he'll tell us what he's decided. As for me, I'm going to be as positive as I can. I have to be. If I'm not, if I fall into despair, then I am doomed. If I focus on how fucked up I'll be if I don't have a job, I will never get one. No, I'm going to adopt as carefree and self-assured attitude. I'm going to resist negativity as best as I can. I'm going to attract into my life a new job if this doesn't work out. I am going to ignore the odds against this happening when I need it to happen and assume that it already has happened, if you catch my drift. "Act as if" will be my mantra.

I was not surprised when I heard the news. I knew ahead of time. I've known for some time now that I'm on the cusp of some change, probably significant. The deja vu/ prophecy told me as much. Now is not the time for despair. I may be on the fast track to disaster, to the lowest point I've ever been, but you know what, I don't think so. When I was talking to my mother earlier, I told her it was fifty fifty which way I'm headed. When my head is clear about it, I don't have the sense I'm headed in the wrong direction. We'll see, I guess.

Some interesting times ahead. In a couple of months, my life will be quite different. At the very least, I won't be living with Janelle and BBZ anymore. Who knows. The C's are on tonight and I'm going to watch them play and act as if things are going to be alright, perhaps even better than they've been. In a lot of ways, change will be a relief. One thing is clear: I can't keep living the way I have been. The goal, though, is to head onward and upward.

After work, I threw the yoga mat down and had a good session. I felt strong, flexible. Sometimes I forget how much more fit I've become, how much better my body feels. I needed the reminder.

Hit me with your best shot

Managed to squeeze in a run before the rain claimed dominance over this day. It was bright and sunny right up until I arrived at my door, sweaty and in need of a cool shower. Nice having things work to your advantage. The rest of the day was spent running errands (Mother's Day gifts, food, books) and working on music. Tonight, the Celtics, down two games to Miami, will see if they can't bring the ruckus. Shaq will be back in the line up. Don't expect him to play out of his mind, but maybe his presence will inspire the team.

Went to a show at the Cantab last night with Janelle and Fred. Foley's band played first, then Leesa's. After that, another band, but I didn't see them play, so we'll pretend it never happened. It was great seeing friends I haven't seen in a while. Andy and Inmay, Pepe, Mary (who was visibly pregnant), were there, among others, and it was a festive scene. The Bruins swept Philly on a small TV that sat on the side of the bar. As evidenced by the raucous cheers whenever the B's scored a goal, it was safe to conclude that there many fans in attendance. Because I don't get the lousy Versus station, I've been missing games, so it was nice seeing it with others while some fine music was being played. A fine night.

Feel like I'm entering another phase in my life. The question is whether it'll positive or negative. I get the sense it's the former, but what do I know. We'll see.

I've got the Black Swan to watch. Maybe tonight. I've only ever heard glowing reviews; I'm looking forward to seeing it.

I'm off, peeps.

Young man full of big plans and thinking about tomorrow

The other day I found myself reading David Ray Griffin's critique of the 9/11 Commission Report. I had put the book down months and months ago; something, I don't know what, put it back in my hands. As I read, old feelings resurfaced. Among them, outrage, disbelief, and frustration. Maybe that's why I put the book down in the first place.

I was reading a chapter concerning Osama Bin Laden when I decided to watch a DVD. I turned the TV on and the first thing I saw was an image of Bin Laden with the headline "Osama Bin Laden Is Dead" at the bottom of the screen. My first thought was, "Two fairy tales in a matter of days" (the first was the royal wedding if you need a reference). My second thought was, "Why now, when I'm all worked up about this stuff?".

Look, my intent here is not to go down the 9/11 rabbit hole. It's too deep and, frankly, it would take several posts to scratch the surface, something I'm not about to do for a welter of reasons, not least of which is that it would probably be a waste of time. Readers, if you have questions, I'll be happy to address them, but for now let's return to Bin Laden.

Operating under the premise that Bin Laden is exactly what we've been told he is, a bogeyman responsible for 9/11 and a panoply of other terrorist attacks worldwide, I still find it disturbing the blood lust people have been exhibiting over his death. This is not to suggest I condone his crimes or cannot understand why people, especially those who lost loved ones on 9/11, would react this way, but it's disturbing and disappointing nonetheless.

Hate begets hate; I wonder if we can break the cycle. We're supposed to be the most evolved society, but the world sees our hubris and the disconnect between what we profess to be and how we are perceived. Remember what Carlin said: "The thing about the American dream is you have to be asleep to believe it".

In a way, I wish I could have shared the jubilee surrounding Bin Laden's "death". I'm not kidding. I wish I didn't question why the most evil motherfucker since Hitler wasn't brought back alive for questioning and a trial, and short of that, why he was quickly and irresponsibly buried at sea. On a related note, I shot and killed a Bigfoot last week, but I buried him at sea so as not to offend Bigfoot enthusiasts around the world (I suppose you could argue that by killing one, I already offended them quite handily, but whatevs). And yes, I took pictures, but you see I shot him in the face and I don't feel right about showing the world that gruesome visage. So what I did was bury the photos at sea near where I buried the body. Don't get caught up on the fact that there's no evidence any of this actually happened, because let me tell you, there is irrefutable evidence: my WORD, son! If you question it, then you're ruining the good vibe we're all experiencing at finally proving the existence of that elusive giant ape. No one likes a downer, so keep you mouth shut if you don't have anything good to say, you wacked out conspiracy theorist.

Ah, I'm running out of steam. I'm a bit tired and trying to come to terms with the fact that the Celtics are not what they once were. The swagger, the air of dominance, has withered, I fear. I hope I'm wrong; I would love to see them get past Miami, but it's not looking good. Still, I have faith in them, and will stick by their side till the bitter end.

Oh, not for nothing, but if I don't get laid soon, I don't know what I'm going to do. Good thing I don't live near a farm.

And with that, I'm out.

Planted like a seed in sand

New Fleet Foxes album out today, so naturally this guy went out and got it. Why? Because they're one of my favorite bands. And, on the 16th, we'll be seeing them at the Orpheum. And you better believe we'll be getting some Vietnamese food before the show. Holla! Anyway, so far so good with the album. There's a lot of depth. I shall not attempt to know it fully on this my first listen.

Amanda is staying at our place tonight. She regaled Janelle and I with tales from her past that were utterly fascinating. This led to a juicy discussion about religion. Great getting to know her better. Too bad her and Blake moved back to Texas.

The Celtics lost tonight. I'm glad I missed the game. I have a strong feeling they won't get past the Heat. Am I a cynic? More a realist, I think. At least regarding the Celtics chances. Still, I'm hoping they'll excel.

I had a hypothetical I was going to share, but it's late and I need to prepare for slumber. You know how that goes. Perhaps another time. Cheers, bitches.