I found some lost minutes

and filled them with shots of Jack Daniels and nice shirts. Must get started dancing. Pictures tomorrow. Maybe.

twenty days...

A friend of mine started a blog the other day. He told me about it. I like it. It reminds me of those days a couple of years ago, I wouldn't say they were better, or more exciting, but they were different. There are routines, and they change. There are constant faces, and they change. There are pets, kitchens, jobs, loves, fears, desires, destinations and dream vacations, and they all change.

This lack of writing is really frustrating, and I'm the only one to blame. There are hundreds of unused minutes in every day. If I string them together I can find all the time in the world to do anything.

In honor of my friends list, a list of things that have happened to me in the last twenty days.

1. I smashed my finger.
2. I saw mostly naked pictures of a co-worker.
3. I won a party.
4. I celebrated a birthday for someone I couldn't pick out of a lineup.
5. I rode bicycles to a bar, and back.
6. I cooked Falafel.
7. I got Noam Chomskitty high.
8. I wrote a song.
9. I made a mix.
10. I slow danced in the kitchen.
11. I received a large tip from a man with a leprechaun voice.
12. I surprised a friend in Long Beach.
13. I went back to SDSU.
14. I got into a shouting match.
15. I made pigs-in-a-blanket.
16. I saw a new band comprised of 2 people I really respect and a third I should.
17. I saw Andrew Jackson Jihad at a punk house, for the second year in a row, and made new friends.
18. I have a new President.
19. I hung out with a wonderful dog named pancakes.
20. I failed at making Magic Rocks. Sorry Imperceptible.

Tonight, I will listen to a friends radio show, drink beer, cook spinach enchiladas and kiss a beautiful women.

I am busy, and happy.

For the girls in the photographs and the songs that don't remind me of them.

I've heard them talk about heartstrings. Apparently, they get pulled. I'm not sure if they have any other function, or if they even exist, but for the sake of the thoughts I am having, there are heartstrings, and they only get pulled.

I've lived on the edge of a lake once, for a couple of months. It was in walking distance, and I visited it once. It didn't occur to me that I lived so close to a huge lake until about fifteen minutes ago. This song came one that I listened to a lot when I lived in Northern California, and it talked about the lake. I thought "Wow! I used to live by that lake, and I only saw it once." It was winter, but still no excuse.

Things will pop into my life, and they blast in full speed. I will have never heard of something (i.e. the apparently shitty book/movie combo Twilight) and within a week EVERYONE I KNOW will be talking about it, telling me to listen to it, or read it, or see it, or eat it, or drink it, or fuck it. Whatever. This has happened most recently with "The Secret". I can't even spell that right, I had to fix it, so I have no idea what the secret is, but apparently it is about positive thinking and visualization and wasting money on books and movies and seminars. I think. More on this later.

I know a lot of women. I will feel good to say that a little more than half of all the people I know are women. Crazy, huh? I know! Anyways, maybe because of their personalities, or maybe because of male personality, or my broad shoulders or whatever, but a lot of my women friends and acquaintances complain to me about their lives. Friends, lovers, jobs, roommates, food allergies, and clothing. And they also are the ones who get into things like "The Secret" or "the 10 people you meet on the way to the liquor store" or whatever that one thing was called. I don't know.

The song about the lake got me thinking about someone. I'm pretty sure she hasn't graced these virtual pages. I've known her about a decade, off and on. She always seems to have some problem. Some guy, some job, no money, whatever. But she never seems to do anything about it.
She takes pin-up pictures, and shows them off to her friends, but that's all. Strange, really. She puts all this effort into something that she thinks might make her life happy, but not enough effort for it to actually change anything.

Life is pretty easy. Don't get me wrong, I've been sad. Butt-fuck-seriously sad. Moving-across-the-country-in-the-winter sad. I've been there. And I've been happy. Super-drunk-coke-party happy. Moving-across-the-country-in-the-winter-happy. I've lost jobs. I've given jobs back. I've lost friends. I've given friends back. People die. It sucks, yes. But everyday you meet someone new! Or at least you should. I don't need a book to tell me how to be happy. Or how to live my life. You can keep your Bible, and your Secret, and your Twilight, and your Harry Potter, and whatever else finally told you the obvious things about being happy in life.

If you want to be happy, do it.
If you want to fall in love, do it.
If you want to be famous, do it.
If you want to leave, do it.
If you want to write songs, do it.
If you want to die, do it.

I was trying to figure out if I had gone to that lake more often in Chicago would I have been happier. The one time I went it had been snowing for a day or something crazy. It was only a couple of days before I left. I went with Allison and it was awkward, uncomfortable, fun, sad and joyous at the same time. Everyday was those last two weeks. But I wasn't happy and I did something about it. It was entirely possible that I could have failed, or that if I would have stuck it out one more month, hit that mythical/magical three month mark I would still be there. But I didn't, and I'm not, and I'm happy.

So keep your books. I'll be over here in the corner, smiling.