Poem: One Night with You

I wrote this a long time ago.  It's my attempt at love poetry.  It's pretty bad, lol.

One Night with You

One night while lying next to you,

I gaze at all the simple curves

No dim light can subdue.

I watch the precious strands of hair

Fall to your lips and linger there

And shiver in each soft exhale.

Each hair is sure to weave its way

Among the wrinkled sheets we lay

To cling to me when you are gone.

But now it’s late and I must close

My eyes to swim in deep repose

And tide myself with dreams of you.

And when I wake, there you’ll be

Softly singing songs to me

Of how you love my quiet way.

But should you leave, what will I do?

For, oh the waking isn’t waking,

Unless it’s next to you.

Old Friends and New Friends

This past weekend went by pretty fast, but it definitely had its moments.  The highlight of my weekend was hanging out with my old college roommate Mike.  He currently lives in Edwardsville, PA and it had been about 4 years since I’d seen him (which is entirely too long and entirely my fault).  However, after reconnecting through our mutual friend (Facebook), we arranged to get together over the weekend. 

When he showed up at my apartment on Saturday I swear I got flashbacks of college.  He hasn’t changed one bit; he’s still looks exactly as I remember him (gay as a maypole, lol) and he is still working at the same place where he worked while going to King’s (although he’s moved up the chain a bit).  Anyway, I had a lot of fun catching up; we went out to dinner, had drinks and spent most of the evening at my place talking about everything that’s gone on since leaving college.

What’s great is he also mentioned that he occasionally comes down to my area for training related his job, so we’ll have plenty of chances to get together again.  I also would like to make the drive up to his neck of the woods sometime; and of course I wouldn’t mind stopping by the ol’ alma mater.

Besides hanging out with Mike, I also got to try several new beers over the weekend.  I have decided to keep a list of the beers I’ve had and I’ve even developed a rating system so that I remember which beers I like the best.  Here’s what I’ve tried so far:

Sam Adams Alpine Spring – 4

Sam Adams Boston Lager – 3

Troegs Hop Back – 1

Heineken – 2

Bud Light – 2

The rating scale is from 1 to 5, 5 being the best and 1 being the worst.  The best so far has definitely been the Alpine Spring, it is citrusy and delicious.  The worst was the Troegs Hop Back which I tried while out to dinner with my father-in-law.  It was fairly bitter (or “hoppy”) and I just didn’t care for it.

Well, here’s to hoping the work week goes by as fast as the weekend did.  

Sunday, Lazy Sunday

Back by popular demand...

Coming Down

A hundred snowflakes, maybe more

Caught my eye as gracefully they fell

And made me wish I could be one

Set out against the evening sky

Among a hundred of my brothers,

All of them twirling just like me

Down through the darkest shades of gray

Of winter’s atmosphere.

Some of my tiny siblings set down

Atop the roofs of modest homes,

Some clung to the church’s lofty spires,

Still countless others lined the ground.

But me, I saw a little girl

Spinning slowly beneath a street light.

Her hair was wet with captured snow

And her face concealed the shifting heat

As she held her warm tongue out,

Just hoping for a single flake.

And as I neared the ground I thought,

If my path should lead me there

And let me be the first she tastes

I’d gladly melt away.

Poem: A Disused Sanctuary

I wrote this while in the library at college.  It always seems to calm me down when I read it.  Anyway, happy Friday!

A Disused Sanctuary

In the basement of the local library;

The old computers sitting, compiling imaginary numbers;

The stacks of smoke-stained newspapers expelling

The thick, condensed musk of age that loiters on the books,

Hangs in the air and is pumped through the open vents;

The simple, unpretentious walls adorned with

The nameless forgeries of well-known paintings;

The sick green pallor of the mottled carpet;

The succinct creeks of exploratorally half-opened doors

Like gasps of breath or momentary protestings;

The swift coming of ideas in the flutter shut of pages;

The well-anchored aisles in which to escape the

Prevailing gale and hoist my native flag to

Balk and eddy in the wind of my furtive exhales;

The would-be dim illicit corners of purloined

Kisses and huddled whispers;

The high shelves lined with the portable knowledge

Of so many trade magazines;

The calming babble from a book of poems

Or the ceaseless flood of the page-turner;

The empty book return carts, trashcans;

The nonexistent adding machines, calculators;

The countless unmanned work stations in which to accrue

The sweet temperate lapse of solitude.

On this day...

On this day in 1788 the first European settlers landed in Sydney, Australia. On this day in 1802 Congress passed an act calling for the establishment of a library within the U.S. Capitol. On this day in 1837 Michigan became the 26th state in the United States. On this day in 1950 India, three years after gaining its independence from the United Kingdom, formally became a republic. On this day in 1979 former Vice President Nelson Rockefeller died in New York at age 70. On this day in 1988 Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera opened on Broadway. On this day in 2001 a magnitude 7.7 earthquake rocked the Indian state of Gujarat, killing more than 20,000 people.

On this day in history many things happened; new discoveries were made, inventions were created, babies were born, and people died. And on this day in 2006, while I was away at college, my mom passed away in our home.

Now on this day in 2012, six years later, I would like to spend the day honoring her memory. But I won’t do it by flipping through a photo album. I do not own a single picture of her, nor do I know where one might be found. My family didn’t own a camera growing up, save the occasional disposable. Any pictures of her that we might have had burned-up in our house fire a long time ago. And even though I have no photos to look at on this day, its okay because what’s in my head can bring me more comfort than any photograph ever could.

Snow (part 2)

Well, the first real snow of the season may be pretty well melted, but that still hasn’t stopped me from reminiscing about my favorite memories of the white stuff.  You know, it’s funny to think how much snow means to a little kid, as compared to an adult.  To a kid snow means no school, sledding, snowball fights, building snowmen and so much more.  To most adults snow means shoveling out your car, a dangerous drive to work, wet socks, cold weather, and in general, a pretty crappy day.  Not to me though, despite the dangers and inconveniences it brings with it, I still love a good snowfall.

I remember the winter I got punched by girl.  I was somewhere around eight or nine when it happened.  My little sister and I had gotten into a snowball fight with our neighbors, Louie and Beverly.  Everything was all fun and games until Beverly (who was about 12 at the time) picked up the base of a snowman she had been building and dropped it on my unsuspecting sister, who had bent down to grab some snow.  I instantly went into big brother mode and ran over to confront her, but before I could get a word out, she pulled back and clocked me right in the nose.  I immediately ran inside, crying…and bleeding.  Now I know that might not sound like a happy memory, but it’s one that has stuck with me.

I remember the year of the immaculate snowball.  My sister and I were once again having one of our epic snowball fights, this one at my grandmother’s house.  I was in my grandmother’s backyard and my sister was about 30 feet away across the alley making snowballs.  I knelt down and picked up a handful of wet, heavy snow and formed it quickly into a ball.  I took aim and launched my tiny missile into the air; my sister, being preoccupied, hadn’t even noticed my release.  As she looked up, we stared back at each other for half a second and then, SMACK, right in the face.

One of the more recent memories I have of my snowy exploits is of the blizzard that hit while I was away at college.  I believe it was sophomore year and Wilkes-Barre had just been pounded with several feet of snow; classes were cancelled and it was off to Kirby Park for some sledding with my friends.  Now, it was quite a hike in the snow, but it was totally worth it.  On the way back we stopped at our friend Steph’s place for hot tea and sat and enjoyed the view from her second floor apartment overlooking River Street.  Nothing special happened; it was just an all-around good day.

Well, those are some of the fond memories I’ve made in the snow.  Here’s to hoping this winter brings a few more snow days with it.

Poem: A Dismantled Chimney

I was reading a lot of Henry David Thoreau when I wrote this (hence the quote under the title).

A Dismantled Chimney

…by a chance bond together  -Henry David Thoreau

Among the blustery autumn days there sits

That of a dismantled chimney of red bricks

To which no mason will be coming back,

Stacked against a haggard house in disrepair

Beside stillborn flowers in a garden bed

Whose blooms cannot be found, save in old poems.

It has been said or seen (I have forgot)

That this stony hearth has but one subtle charm

And it’s not the comfort of a dwindling

Fire by which a pair of chapped hands could warm

Nor a crooked nail on which to rest

One weary memory or a baseball cap.

But stand before this broken pile and you’ll see

The unwanted particles of dust and leaves,

The crumbs from off the common table

Blow into open sky, fuse into dark cracks,

Mix with each passing rainstorm and become

The slow, steady mortar of the seasons.

Snow (part 1)

Over the weekend we had our first measurable snowfall of the season and I must say, I am a huge fan of the white stuff.  When I was younger my sisters and I would build igloos and snowmen and have epic snowball fights that would last days and threaten to divide our town.  Ok, so they weren’t that epic, but they were still a lot of fun.  Whenever the snow begins to fall it always brings with it these memories of my youth and being that I will one day be old and senile I thought it a good idea to capture some of these memories in my blog.  (I have begun to realize that this blog acts as a time capsule more than anything else)

One of the best memories I have of winter is the blizzard of ’96.  I was 11-years-old and we got close to 4 FEET of snow dumped on us in a period of three days.  The snow literally game up to my chest in most places and the drifts were as much as 7 feet high.  It was insane; I had never seen my town so completely buried.  I remember helping my dad shovel out his car during the storm.  It was a total white-out; I could barely see 10 feet in front of me.  The snow was coming down so fast that our shovels could barely keep up.  What’s worse, we had nowhere to go with all the snow.  By the time we finished, the piles of snow in front of and behind my dad’s car were bigger than he was!

The real fun began when the snow stopped.  I got it in my head that I wanted to build an igloo, but not just any igloo.  I wanted to build the greatest igloo ever!  And with a little help from my dad I was able to do it.  Short of working plumbing and drapes, my igloo had everything.  It had a slide entrance that was accessed off the back porch and its main entrance was a long tunnel that ran along the narrow, fenced-in walkway that lined the right side of our house and led to the back yard.

Another great thing about that blizzard was that the snow lasted for weeks.  I have so many memories of spending the entire day out in the snow with my friends and sledding down the hill behind a local church.  We could go for hours and our fun lasted well into the twilight.  The only thing that brought me home was the call of my father that came beckoning over the rooftops. 

Poem: The Birds of Song

The inspiration for this poem is owed to several factors, one being the reading of Robert Frost's poem After Apple-Picking and the other being the Belief and Unbelief class I was taking when I wrote it.

The Birds of Song

The birds of song are here to stay,

Like feathers in a diamond,

Concerned not so much with today

They flit and fly and swoop and soar

Amid the white-washed firmament

To find some shallow perch to sit

Beneath the power lines.

The birds of song all dance in rows

And dine on worms from foreign fruit,

The rust red pulp that stains the shirts

Of local boys out apple picking

In strangers orchards after dark;

The pulse migrations of the heart

Before the winter.

The birds of song have gone away

To where the ice-caked river flows

And left their leaf shells sitting in

A tree that cracks and spreads against

The frosted panes of sky and shows

A silver crown of thorny light

Nesting in its boughs.

Passport

So a couple weeks ago my boss and I went out to lunch together and got on the topic of travel.  He has been to tons of different countries, some I've never even heard of before.  When he asked if I’d done much traveling at my young age I told him that I hadn't really done a lot of international travel, other than my honeymoon.  In fact, besides my honeymoon, the farthest south I've been is Washington, DC and the farthest north is New York City.  When I told him this he replied, “We’ll have to change that.”  At the time I didn't think much of it, but a few days ago I got an e-mail from his assistant letting me know that the firm is going to pay for me to get my passport.

Now he hasn’t said anything to me yet about sending me anywhere, but I know for a fact that he is currently in negotiations with the Israeli government regarding some business dealings.  As long as I’m not near the Gaza strip I think it would be totally cool to go to Israel, and I’m not even Jewish!  Anyway, all this passport business has got me thinking about the places I would like to go and the things I would like to see some day.  Here is a brief list of international travel destinations (which I’m sure will be added to later):

London, England (Ello govnah)

Paris, France (come wiz me to ze Casbah)

Rome, Italy (fugetaboutit!)

Amsterdam, The Netherlands (the land that law forgot)

CANADA (hockey eh)

Tokyo, Japan (米いいです)

Sydney, Australia (come with me to the land down unda!)

Poem: Divided

Funny enough, I wrote this when I had writers' block.

÷

Caught in between the pages of your collected editions,

The words are read and flower, fresh thoughts

Unbend at a benighted hour,

Thoughts of a boy who breathes in dreams

At the window of a dim-lit house

Whose beams lay shrouded in the caps of winter.

His lips against the pane and laying low,

He heaves his breath upon the glass and leaves

Two lip prints that he cuts in half

Deftly, with a stroke of his index as a pen,

To signify that within and that without,

Divided by a window.

These thoughts I find come creeping on

When home alone I sit by fireside

Betwixt two covers of a borrowed book, lined with

Splintered strands caught in the pages wooden grasp,

Marks of a well-remembered time; the mind

Was hardened clay unable to be one impressed upon.

Beer

Is it just me or does every guy BUT me drink beer? Every one of my male friends from college drank beer (and not just to get hammered).  All the guys I work with drink beer.  My father – and brother-in-law drink beer; both of them have even tried brewing it!  My dad use to drink beer, before his doctor told him he couldn’t anymore.  Even my little sister drinks beer; she called on Sunday to tell me that she bought a case for her and her friends to drink during the football games.  This is just sad.  My little sister, THE LESBIAN, is more of a man than me.

All jokes aside, this is something I would like to remedy.  Now I’m not saying I want to start drinking beer just because everyone else is drinking beer.  There are a number of other reasons why I want to broaden my pallet to include the occasional brewsky. 

Alcohol is a great social lubricant, especially for someone like me who can be kind of shy when meeting new people.  It would be nice to be in a social setting and instead of going straight for the liquor (or my iPod), just kicking back and enjoying a beer.  Also, since so many people drink beer, discussing it is a great conversation starter.

A beer just seems like a great way to unwind after a long day.  I’ve also heard that different beers go well with different foods.  It might be neat to experiment with different kinds of beers with my meal.

Now I’ve tried beer before and while I don’t hate it, I didn’t really care for what I tasted.  I’m not sure if that was more due to the beer I was drinking or what, but I can’t imagine that with all the different beers out there I couldn’t find one I liked.  It’s a fact that if you eat/drink something long enough your taste buds will conform to the new taste and you will eventually enjoy it.  The problem is I’m not even sure where to start.  With so many different beers to choose from, where should a novice like me begin?

Bad Habits

So this may come as a shock, but I am actually human.  And being human I have several bad habits that I wish I could break.  Most of these I’ve had for a long time and have tried kicking them in the past, only to fall right back into them.

·         Nail Biting.  For as long as I can remember, whenever I get nervous or anxious I tend to bite my nails.  Not sure how this became my coping mechanism, but no matter what I do I always seem to revert to it when the chips are down.

·         Epic Procrastination.  I know we all tend to do this from time to time, but I can sometimes take it to another level.  Often I’ll put things off for long periods of time, even when I know I should do them for fear of forgetting (see below).  Most of the time the things I put off are those that I don’t want to do.  Examples include: doing the dishes, paying bills, cleaning, work (I’m doing this right now), and making decisions.

·         Fast Food.  I eat out…a lot.  And when I do, I usually don’t hold back.  My favorite food of all time and forever is pepperoni pizza.  I would literally wear a suit of it if I didn’t think I’d be naked within an hour.  I know it’s not healthy and that I’m likely hastening my way to the grave, but I just can’t seem to stop.  It’s a wonder I don’t weigh 500 lbs.

·         Memory.  Ok, so at first blush this might not sound like a habit per se, but allow me to explain.  I have what can only be described as juvenile Alzheimer’s mixed with ADHD.  I forget everything.  I forget things two minutes after they are told to me.  I forget names, dates, directions to places I’ve been countless times, my keys; and part of it is my fault.  You see I have this nasty tendency to zone out when I think a conversation isn’t overtly important a condition I like to call, “Hey-look-a-squirrel-syndrome”.

There you have it; those are the bad habits that I wish I could kick.  Maybe writing them down and focusing on them will help me to curb how often I do them.  If the past is any indication, however, it won’t.

Poem: Early Morning Scene

This poem was originally inspired by a dream I had after listening to a song by Sufjan Stevens.

Early Morning Scene

The heat rising from the ancient vent

Sends ripples through the watery air,

And sitting still and quiet one can hear

The low monotone of drowned voices

Rising from the depths of the dungeon

Of dirt and insects beneath the housing skirt;

The long nostalgic moans of previous occupants,

The unfinished breaths that come

In the winter months of this old house

To lament and mock the end

Of long-extinguished fires.

The vaporless heat wraps the curtain

Like a drapery about the shoulders of my youngest son

Who stands barefoot over the metal grate

Reaching for the lofty window sill

With his little fingers to pull his chin above

And get a look out at the crust of newly fallen snow.

Sullen and stern for several minutes,

I watch and turn, kicking off my slippers,

And approach the window where my son had stood.

My toes half sunken in the metal grate

As I look out upon the empty lot adjacent to my own

And think I hear my son
Groaning to be let outside.

Tattoo

For a period of time in college I gave serious thought to getting a tattoo.  I even went as far as brainstorming ideas for what I might get and looking into tattoo parlors and prices.  Now me being who I am, a somewhat impulsive flake, led me to eventually drop the idea.  However, recently I’ve renewed my interest in getting some ink and have been thinking about what I might get.

First, a couple of caveats: 1) If I do get a tattoo it would be somewhere easily concealable (i.e. no face tattoos for this guy).  I work in a professional setting and I can’t really afford to be all tatted up.  2) I don’t want a ton of tattoos.  If I get one, it will be just that, ONE.  3) The size of the tattoo is also a concern for me.  My sister-in-law has a gigantic lower back tattoo (tramp stamp) that looks absolutely hideous; I definitely don’t want it to be too big.

Now, on to some of my ideas for possible tattoos. 

This is part of some album artwork from one of my all-time favorite bands, The Shins.  I really like the feelings it invokes in me and I could see altering it slightly to make it more personal.  If you notice, the bands’ name is on the front of the ship; I could potentially replace it with a date, name, or word that has some special meaning to me.

                                    

This idea I got just recently after watching Blue Valentine.  I noticed that the lead actor, Ryan Gosling, has a tattoo of the cover of the Shel Silverstein book, The Giving Tree.  Shel Silverstein is my favorite children’s author and I think this book tells a very beautiful story about love.

                            

Finally, we have a tattoo straight out of the creative recesses of my mind.  I came up with this back when I first was exploring the idea of getting a tattoo and I can honestly say that I still like it.

Not sure which one, if any of them, I'll pick.  I figure I shouldn't rush into this and I'll likely give it a couple weeks, but I do think this is something I could see myself doing.



New Project

Last night I decided (partly on a whim) to undertake a new project.  Now I’m not even sure if I like it yet or if it will even work, but I’ve decided I don’t care.  The basic idea is to borrow the best lines from my favorite songs and combine them into a working poem.  This has the potential to be a rather lengthy undertaking seeing as I have quite a few songs to choose from, each being anywhere from 2-5 minutes long on average.

Why I decided to try this, I can’t really say.  What I do know is that often I’ll be listening to a song and they’ll be that one line that just puts a perspective or an idea in perfect terminology.  I want to weave those beautiful lines together to tell a story, to be one enigmatic tapestry that just hits home.

I spent an hour and a half last night listening to music and compiling my list of song lyrics; I have about a dozen so far.  Once I have the list of lyrics down I can begin to put them together.  I haven’t decided whether or not I will add any of my own lyrics to the poem, but right now I’m leaning against it.  I don’t want it to look like I’m comparing myself to these songwriters or that I think in any way that my words are as good as theirs.

If nothing else, this project is an excellent excuse to listen to old music and relive my younger years J.

Monotony

I really like the imagery in this poem, even if it is pretty sad.

Clean Break

Making your rounds, a new morning

Stirs, a honeycomb adorning

The stark silhouette of tree-tops,

A chrysalis of stars that drops

Its dark shell into the coffee pot.

Stiff smelling, out to local shops

You go, the old familiar stops;

Inside a mug some flowers rot,

Making your rounds.

Down the fridge, petals mourning,

Falling past son’s art: a warning,

Scraping the sinews.  The soiled mops

You use that act as callous props

Caught in a stale, old-fashioned plot,

Making your rounds.

The Weekender

The past few weeks have been some of the most stressful of my life.  So this weekend I tried to put all my stressful thoughts aside for awhile and just enjoy myself. 

On Friday night Nikki and I went for dinner at Zia’s at the Red Door in downtown Harrisburg.  This was the first time for me at this particular restaurant and I told myself I was going to step out of my comfort zone a bit.  For an appetizer we got fried calamari with marinara, which was absolutely delicious.  It’s crazy how someone can take such an ugly animal and make it so yummy.  For my main course I got pesto roasted Chilean sea bass with asparagus and corn risotto.  It was probably the most moist, flakey piece of fish I’ve ever eaten.  All-in-all our experience was fantastic and I would highly recommend it to all my friends.  Sorry I don’t have any pictures; guess that’s what I get for still having a crappy flip-phone.

Saturday was fairly uneventful.  Most of it was spent lounging in front of the TV on my incredibly comfortable love seat.

Sunday saw me pick up my guitar for the first time.  I’ve been reading my Guitar for Dummies book and the first few chapters don’t really have much to do with actually playing.  Sunday however, I worked on positioning the guitar, hand placement, tuning the guitar, and even attempted a few chords (poorly).  One of the most difficult things about playing the guitar, according to my book, is building up the muscles in your left hand in order to depress the strings properly.  Guess I need to start using my left hand more.

Now the weekend is over and it’s back to work and back to my stressful thoughts.  Oh well, maybe if I just ignore them they’ll go away.

Codes and Keys

I had a chance to listen to more of Death Cab for Cutie’s latest album, Codes and Keys; definitely enjoying listening to Ben Gibbard’s voice.  Also, while playing around on the internet looking for videos of some of Death Cab’s songs I found out that Gibbard was actually married to Zooey Deschanel for two years and that they just recently finalized their divorce.  That definitely puts an interesting spin on some of the lyrics in the songs.  I have a feeling that I’ll be listening to this album nonstop for some time J.

Poem: Chinese Finger-trap

Another old poem.  I wrote this after winning a consolation prize at a carnival game.

Chinese Finger-trap

Thin strips of wood weaved pink and tan,

Like ribbon braided into golden locks,

To span the body of a hollowed snake

That squeezes with each gentle tug.

Such is the finest bondage for any loving pair

That when one starts to pull away

Both are squeezed and made aware

Of the warmth of drifting hands

That if ignored could make,

With slightest strength, a tear

And expose no-longer-touching fingertips.

New Music

So I’ve been dying for some new music recently.  I’ve been finding little songs here and there to kind of wet my appetite, but up until a couple weeks ago I hadn’t really found a new band that I liked enough to buy an entire album.  That all changed when I listened to Goldspot’s album Tally of the Yes Men. 

I first heard their song Rewind on an episode of How I Met Your Mother and decided to give them a try.  Best decision of 2011, by far.  I have been listening to it nonstop for about a week now.  The lead singer is an Indian guy by the name of Siddhartha Khosla, which makes his voice that much more impressive.

My favorite songs on the album are, in order, 1)Motorcade, 2)Friday, 3)Rewind, 4)The Assistant, and 5)Time Bomb.  The rest are pretty good as well, but those are definitely in a class of their own.  If you haven’t heard them before I highly recommend you give them a listen.

In other music news, I am currently trying to catch up on my Death Cab.  I’ve been slacking and a recent Google search enlightened me to the fact that they put out two new albums while my back was turned.  Very sneaky.  Anyway, I haven’t gotten to listen to much of either one so far but this song kind of caught my ear.

Premonition

I wrote this a couple year's ago and reading it now it seems appropriate.  Perhaps it's a vision from the future.

Doing the Dishes

This afternoon I caught you with

Your thoughts spread out over the fields of Kansas

Like mayonnaise over whole wheat toast,

All white and bland and completely unknown to me.

So I sat and watched you do the dishes

As food gathered in the mouth of the drain

And water welled up in the sink.

You stood bowed in prayer beneath the westing sun

Like one who comes upon a box of trinkets

Tucked away under an old brass bed

The bottle caps and broken toys that seem

To sum up, with a mournful sigh, a life.

And you cradled each dish for a moment

Turning them over in the fading light;

And food gathered in the mouth of the drain

And water welled up in the sink.

Your pale ringless fingers skated over the Teflon

Face of a pan you caught your reflection in;

I heard the flick of your long nails picking at the crusted

Bits of acne from last nights’ dinner;

Your hands were slow and gently methodical

As though you were washing the face of a child;

Food gathered in the mouth of the drain

And water welled up in the sink.

I listened to you idly remark of several springs ago

And how dreadfully pink your shoulders got

As you stood rubbing the fake porcelain plates,

Trying to coat them with the warm luster of your skin

As one panning an old stream rubs yellow rocks with gold;

And food gathered in the mouth of the drain

And water welled up in the sink.

So this is the New Year

With the start of a New Year come hopes and dreams for the future.  Now, I am terrible at making a plan and following through with it, but I figured that a good place to start would be to make a list of the things I hope to accomplish this year; this way I can look back at it periodically to see how I’m doing.

·         BABIES.  The most important thing on my mind right now is getting this whole baby situation figured out.  Nikki and I have been talking on and off about it for a couple days now and don’t seem to be getting anywhere.  She keeps trying to reason with me and get me to feel something that just isn’t there.  I’m just not ready for children yet.  Not sure how this is going to play out, but something has got to give.

·         RELATIONSHIPS.  In an earlier blog post I complained (seems like I’ve been doing a lot of that lately, sorry) that I seem to have fallen out of contact with most of my friends.  I have already started trying to change that.  I e-mailed one friend from college who I haven’t spoken to in almost 4 years and who seemed genuinely happy and excited to talk to me.  As bad as I am at following through, I have to keep this up.  My life just seems to be missing some good close friends and that is not the life I want.

·         BEING MYSELF.  It seems that whenever I’m around people I tend to change what I say and how I act to accommodate them.  I feel like I have lost a bit of who I am, that I’m slowly turning into this bland amorphous goo.  I need to stop trying to please everyone, stop worrying about what other people think, and just be myself.

·         GUITAR.  My biggest present this Christmas was my very own guitar.  I also got Guitar for Dummies and a couple song books.  My goal for this year is to get the basics down and hopefully be playing some easy songs by years’ end.  I know me, and it’ll be tough to stick with it at first, but I can’t let myself get discouraged.  This has the potential of being yet another great creative release.

·         SIGN LANGUAGE.  I started learning sign language as a way to pass my down time at work and found it to be very enjoyable.  I was hoping to get a book on sign language as a Christmas present, but I guess Santa didn’t get my letter.  No matter, I plan on buying the book myself and continuing my deaf education.

·         DO SOMETHING I’VE NEVER DONE.  I’ve been thinking that my life is missing a certain bit of excitement.  Yes, I’m a fairly successful 26-year-old accountant, but that isn’t exactly something to write home about.  Most of my weekends consist of sitting at home watching TV or visiting the in-laws.  I want more than that from my life.  I want spontaneous road-trips to random destinations.  I want to eat strange food.  I want to find things I didn’t even know existed.  I want to have adventures.  I don’t want to rot in front of a TV or a computer screen for the rest of my life, seeing pictures and reading stories about people living the life I want.

·         EXERCISE.  Near the end of the summer I started going to the gym again, something I did daily during high school and early on in college.  I was able to get into pretty good shape and while I don’t consider myself a vain person, I do like to look good.  I haven’t been to the gym in several weeks, due in large part to Nikki’s situation with her knee, but I hope to get back into it.  I know all too well that the hardest part of getting in shape is the first week.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now.  Not sure if any of this really matters since the apocalypse is happening at the end of this year ;-).  Better get busy livin’ it up while I can!