Put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walking out the door

The day after Christmas. Mine was quiet, just the way I intended. I didn't do much in the way of being productive except tidy up the house a bit and buy some groceries. A good day to hit the stores with no one around.

My Christmas was probably like yours in that it was a whirlwind of activity that came and went like a typhoon. I went to my parents in the morning and spent the better part of the day with the family. My grandmother was there. She usually spends the early part of the day at my aunt and uncle's house, but this year elected to give my parent's house a try. She wasn't feeling well, though. Her feet were swollen and she had been battling vertigo. She just turned 94 early in the month; this type of thing is par for the course, sadly.

It was good being around family. Everyone understood my financial predicament and weren't visibly upset with the lack of gifts. My sister told me her family is just scraping by and the most important thing is we're all together. Actually, I don't think she said that last part, but whatever. She would have if she was in a Hallmark Christmas movie.

I was sitting by the Christmas tree and spotted an ornament I had made my mother as part of a school project back when I was in fifth or sixth grade. It was star shaped and wrapped in yarn. In the center was a tiny picture of me from my school photo. I held it in my hand, fondly remembering those days when things were simpler and Christmas was a different sort of holiday for me. I'm not particularly nostalgic these days, especially because I've learned it's a trap of the ego and its hypnotic effects can be tough to part with. Still, it was a warm feeling to hold that ornament and remember.

My nephew Patrick stayed close by my side the entire day. I was touched. He's five and is just beginning to assert himself. Each gift he opened was presented to me for inspection. He got some good ones. I envied his Batman shampoo and bucket of plastic pirates.

Around three, we went to my grandmother's house, where we met up with my cousins and aunt and uncle. Children everywhere. Man, if it were just adults, it would still be worthwhile, but if there ever was a holiday for kids, Christmas is it. Yeah, I know about Halloween, but that's utterly satanic.

My grandmother seemed a bit out of it, but professed to feeling much better. I wasn't so sure. My nieces Kiley and Shannon brought their keyboard with them and gave a little recital of Christmas songs. I requested a performance of Joni Mitchell's Court & Spark but it fell on deaf ears. I had to wonder if they even knew who Joni Mitchell was. Ah, those whippersnappers don't know what good music is, with their Bieber's and Jonas Brothers.


Leading up to Christmas, my sleep had been poor. I came home last night tired as shit, but I stayed up late anyway, because that's what I do. I watched Robert Zemekis' (sp?) version of A Christmas Carola and was very impressed. Jim Carrey, Gary Oldman, Robin Wright Penn, Bob Hoskins, and Tim Roth provided the voices. What a great piece of work. Visually stunning, well acted, the works. I give it two out ten stars. Nah, I'm fooling you: I give it four out of ten stars. Anyway, it's streaming on Netflix if you're interested.

I stopped by Spira's on Christmas eve for a bit. I helped her make baklava and then we watched The Vice Guide To North Korean Prison Camps. You know, holiday fare. Anyway, it was a great episode. She gave me a rockin' french press as a Christmas gift. I used it this morning and love it. So why did I toss it in the trash? Hmm...

While I didn't have much to give people for Christmas, I did make stuff like music, comics, food. All of this, especially the music was worked on constantly all the way up to when I headed over to Spira's. Today was the first day in a while where I wasn't knee deep in some project. I'm keenly aware that other people did much more than I did, but everything is relative, so get off my case. Geesh!

A short work week. The New Year approaches. I don't have anything planned for New Year's Eve yet, but I'm not too worried. Something will come up. Or not. Either way, it's a short work week.

Ok, off to do other things. I may watch a movie. We'll see. Maybe I'll watch National Geographic's show on Lord of The Rings or a Woody Allen flick. Or maybe I'll do some reading. I know for a fact I'll be eating from the tin of cookies my sister made me. I ate an embarrassing amount of them last night. May as well seal my doom and polish off the rest tonight. They're so fucking good! Forgive me father....

Wearing out things that nobody wears

I've been an absent father as concerns this blog. There are reasons, but why go into them? Let's just proceed as if my last post was yesterday. Shall we?

It's Monday and I'm tired like I always am on Mondays. This is mostly because Rick, my landlord's brother, spends an hour walking around an hour before I get up. Did I mention that he's directly above me when he does this and that he spends a full hour doing this? I don't know what the story is, but it means I get up an hour early every Monday. Wait, that's not exactly true: I spend most of that hour vainly trying to get back to sleep but always fail because that's when my multitudinous worries and concerns bombard me. So, yeah, fun times.

Spira's Christmas party was this past Saturday and it was.....interesting. I knew right off the bat the night was going to be a wild card when Foley asked if he could hitch a ride. I love Foley - he's a close friend - but you never know what you're going to get with him, especially after he's had some drinks in him.

When I picked him up around seven, it was evident he had started drinking already. I determined this because A) His breath smelled of alcohol B) He questioned where we were several times despite the fact that he's been living in this city a good many years and had taken the same route to Spira's a plethora of times C) He was VERY LOUD in his speech and D) He told me he'd been drinking. I wondered whether he was going to be a disruptive influence at the party.

I'll end the suspense: he was. In the interest of not embarrassing anyone, however, I'm mostly going to leave it at that. Just know that a good chunk of the problem had to do with a girl at the party he was hitting on unsuccessfully who, for reasons kept from Foley, was predisposed to be turned off by him. When he saw me talking with her later, he became fixated on me asking her out. He thought since he had struck out with her and she had been giving me the time of day that she was into me and that I should have asked her out. He carried on about it for the rest of the night. There is quite a bit more to the story, but we'll leave it at that.

Though our ride home was short, I couldn't wait to drop him off. Fortunately, I had Pat and Allie in the car for a bit to provide some kind of buffer. When I dropped them off, Pat mentioned something about giving him a call. Foley loudly told him not to expect a call from me since I never call anyone back. Then, as we made our way to Foley's, he brought up a former friend of mine in a way meant, I believe, to make me feel a little shitty.

Ah, but he's my friend and I love him. He's a sincere, decent person. And a loyal friend. He has more than a few admirable traits, but those others.....well, let's just say I prefer him when he's sober. I'm not always a fan of hanging out with drunks. Usually, it's an obnoxious, messy affair.

So, despite a bunch of bullshit, I had a good time at the party. Spira did a great job with the food and refreshments and there was plenty of good cheer. Plus, my beautiful princess, Missy the dog, was in attendance. She makes everything better.

What else? Well, I've been a prolific songwriter lately. A song a day. A lot of recording. Having a blast.

Been upping the yoga practice. This past week I've been learning how to perform a head stand. Almost there, but I've been crashing to the floor a lot and making a mess doing so. I fell on top of poor Missy D the other day and more recently I knocked over bucket of water and crashed into several potted plants. There's no way to master the headstand gracefully without the assistance of a spotter or a wall (Believe it or not, there's no available wall space in my apartment to utilize).

Christmas is in a few days and I'm not feeling the spirit one bit. What happened? I used to love the holiday so much. Back in the day, I'd be in the spirit in late October. I watched every Christmas special that was aired, no matter how shitty. Now? Ah, let's not get into it.

I'm freezing. I put the heat on earlier, but it doesn't seem to be working. I'll have to go investigate. Afterward, I might do some recording. Maybe I'll watch a movie. Who knows.

Jumped in the river what did I see, black eyed angel swim with me

It's approaching seven o'clock and I'm finally starting to feel better. All day I've been nursing a mild enough, yet energy sapping hangover. Last night was Tracy and Ray's Christmas party; there was a keg of beer and I drank from it. I didn't have that much to drink, but by the end of the night I was perched between very buzzed and officially drunk. While it's true I didn't have that much to drink (maybe four or five cups of beer), I also didn't have any food, which probably enhanced my condition. Oh yeah, I'm also a lightweight. There is that.

I had such a good time at this party. I always do when I'm around this group of my friends, but last night left me with such good feelings that I kept waking up early this morning recapping parts of the night and smiling. I'm filled with gratitude to be fortunate enough to have such stellar people in my life. Whenever we're together there is a lot of laughter and good cheer. Yes, I am fortunate.

Tracy and Ray organized a pub quiz for the party which went off well. We assembled four or five teams and mine was comprised of Frank, Michelle, Janelle, and myself. I boldly predicted we'd emerge victorious before the game began and my prediction bore fruit. That's right, we represented and took home first prize. I was in the other room when it was announced we won and I'm still not exactly sure what it was we won (I'm 98% sure it was an assortment of wine). So, yeah, we brought the ruckus.

I'll tell you this: I never want the party to end when I'm with these people. Really, when Janelle approached me about leaving, I thought it was still early but it was nearing the witching hour and we had a bit of a drive back to MA ahead of us. Before leaving, Rachael pulled me into the living room and told me I should ask out Janelle's friend Danielle, who rode up to the party with us. She was convinced I had a shot. "Do it, Kevin", she counseled. "Believe me, she will say yes if you ask her out on a date."

I was pretty buzzed at that point and was surprised at this development because I didn't pick up on the same things Rachael had. In fact, it wasn't just Rachael saying this stuff, others joined in. At one point Rachael wrote out a list of questions I should ask Danielle. Here's a sampling:

1. Favorite food, #'s, color. - I like this one. "Hey, Danielle, let me ask you something. What are your favorite numbers."

2. Favorite Star Wars.

3. Is she a Republican. - That would be good to know.

At the end of the note, she wrote " You can do this! You deserve this! You are awesome!" This is reason #23 why I love my friends.

So what will I do? Ah, I don't know. I like Danielle and I find her attractive, but my radar for these things hasn't been very reliable and until Rachael brought it up, I hadn't put any thought into the matter. I'm inclined to think she wouldn't be up for a date. Hell, I don't even know if she's single. I, however, am a swinging, pure-hearted, smoking hot, single, so I'm not opposed to exploring my options.

Speaking of dating, I'm pretty sure I won't be seeing Lauren again unless it's with Spira. I hadn't heard back from her for over a week after our date (We had left it that she'd let me know when she'd be free to see each other again). When she finally did call, she left me a voicemail suggesting we get together with Spira and take a yoga class together. That was all I needed to hear. Obviously, she wasn't interested in dating me. I called her back and left her a voicemail (we still haven't spoken on the phone directly) and said "Sure, let's go take a yoga class with Spira some time."

And that was basically it. I don't expect I'll hear back from her. Fine with me. I've had too many instances like this, where I slip into the friend zone at some point. I've learned from my mistakes and I'm not about to embark on a campaign to make someone interested in me. These days I hold myself in much higher esteem and am not going to put any effort into someone who isn't into me. There's a chance I'll see Lauren again and I'll be glad to see her if I do.

I didn't go to my grandmother's party this morning. I never miss family events, but I was not feeling up to going. Besides, I'll be seeing everyone at Christmas. I only feel slightly guilty.

On that note, I'm going to go see if I can get some recording done. Finished up a new song yesterday and I've got one that's nearly completed. I'll work on that and then I'll do stuff like read or meditate or watch a movie or Survivorman.

When no one cares for you, you're made of straw

They say you should never blog when you're in a foul mood or after eating a bowl of lentil soup, but I'm going to go ahead and do it anyway because I have a bit of time to kill, but mostly because I love you all so much and must satisfy this burning desire to feel close to you. I'm not really in a foul mood, I suppose, but I do feel a little punchy. Could be the rainy white-knuckle commute from work, the prospect of an even worse Christmas than the year before and the year before that (I used to love the holiday. I need a Christmas miracle!), female rejection, the short days, who knows. Maybe a joint committee of a few different things.

I'll get through what ever troubles me, at least in the short term. That's all you can do. I'll record some music later and I'll feel better. I'll meditate, listen to the Lavender Hour, watch some Vice Guide, read - these things will balance things out I predict.

An observation. The preponderance of the expression "Yay" has infected Facebook and it has annoyed me, not a lot but enough to make me not want to visit Facebook as often. Even more annoying is the fact that I should be annoyed in the first place. I guess I'm just used to hearing "Yay" uttered by toddlers when they hear good news like they're going to the zoo or daddy's coming home with ice cream. When it's uttered by adults it's a bit off-putting. It's the equivalent of a twenty year old walking around sucking on a pacifier.

I used to work with a guy who used to suck his thumb all the time. Didn't really bug me, but there was a part of me that wanted to gently suggest he might want to think about growing up a little bit, perhaps to the adolescent stage. Look, clearly I'm not the most mature man by society's standards (thank God), but I can go potty all by myself. Anyway, I'm off on a tangent. To sum up: there are "yay's " flying around Facebook like nobody's business. I find it mildly annoying and because I do I think people should utter that infantile expression even more if only to serve as a big fuck you to my ego which doesn't like anything not approved by it. And really, it's a harmless thing. So yay to your heart's content, you toddlers of Facebook. I approve. And if you need me to change your diaper or prepare you some formula, you big fucking baby, I'll gladly offer a hand.

I just had an epic Stratego battle online. A total come-from-behind-against-all-odds kind of victory. I was dead to rights and.....oh, you don't want to hear about this. Fine, let's move on.

The weekend approaches. Not sure what I'll be doing. My grandmother is turning 94 on Sunday and there will be a party in her honor. An impressive achievement, which means I'll look like a real dick if I ditch it in favor of Stratego. We'll see how I feel.

Whenever I finish a post, like I'm about ready to do, I feel like I come off as a real bitter son-of-a-bitch. I suppose I do, but generally I'm a pretty happy guy. Really, I am. Look, my life as constituted sucks beyond belief, but I've got a pretty positive outlook (despite just claiming my life is so sucky it's beyond belief). I've got a lot to be grateful for. I've said it before: I've got things to be depressed about, but I'm not depressed. Yes, I'd rather not have to go through alone, but it's probably better I do so. And, even as I wallow through these lean, despair-inducing times, I'm looking beyond them to something better.

Yay!

I've got to run to keep from hiding

So much, almost the totality, of my life as currently constituted is out of whack. I'm not going to lie to you, these last few months have been the hardest of my life. Hard, shitty, revelatory, cathartic, squirmy, confusing. All of the above and more. See what happens when you up your spiritual practice? You end up with an almost overwhelming amount of tough love.

I'm not surprised by this shakeup, I knew it would come. I had heard and read how vociferously the ego will thrash and fight to the bitter teeth of its existence. I had fair warning, which is helpful inasmuch as it reminds me I'm not sinking lower and lower into tar pits of despair but cleaning house, as it were. As unsettling and potentially catastrophic as matters have become, I find I'm buoyed by a calmness, a firm quiet hunch that I'm going to be okay. It's the catharsis of birth.

While I've felt better physically the last day or so, my inner disposition has been a mess. Not in the sense you might suspect. I haven't been tensed up in a rigid heap, shaking and sobbing. I don't feel depressed, though there are things I've been depressed about. And, to be sure, there have been times, like today, when I've felt weak and afraid, saddened and bereft. But I've also been meditating, practicing yoga, laughing, reading from spiritual literature, watching and listening to people like Wayne Dyer, Eckhart Tolle, Leo Buscaglia (I couldn't take too much of him. He yelled too much; I expected his delivery to far more gentle). In fact, spiritual pursuits have been about the only things I've craved and taken comfort in.

I reached the point where I felt backed into a corner and working without a net. Completely vulnerable, raw and exposed to good, ill, or indifferent. And the point has been reached, or will be reached very, very, soon where I can't continue living the same way. Maybe not rock bottom, but a sink or swim situation. The ego fears its death.

There's not much in my life right now that's satisfying, but in the midst of an upheaval, what is? Despite the fact that I've been pretty positive (despite the tone of this post), over the last few days I've felt beset on all sides and it's been a bit much to take. But I've been taking it and things are getting better. This too shall pass, this too shall pass.