"You can write, but you can't edit"

I've wanted to get back into writing for so long. I think I find my clearest voice when I can look at what I said to make sure it came out right. I make mistakes so frequently when speaking; I often don't filter enough, I neglect to make considerations about the person I'm talking to, I constantly offer too much information, I offend by my tone, because I never really consider tone (by which I mean the tone I say something in isn't how it should be interpreted because it probably has little or no baring on what I'm actually saying) and I give opinions where none are asked for.

Writing doesn't carry the same weight or pressure. The ability to edit, review, delete and expound is quintessential to getting a point across exactly how you want it received. I find no need for symbolism in something like a blog, because if I'm putting it out there, it shouldn't need to be interpreted like the tone of my voice. I have all the time I need to make sure it comes out right.

I think I shall improve at this as I continue to write more. I used to write blog entries and poems and songs and stories, but I haven't in so long it is as if I have forgotten how. I've pulled this thing up many times over the past few days only to close it after staring at a blank page for 20 minutes. It certainly wasn't because of a lack of something to say. With all the shit that's managed to occur in a span of 5 days, there was certainly enough material. What I don't have is my written voice. I have to concentrate so hard on speaking so I don't say something stupid or poorly thought out or offensive and I'm applying that to my written voice as well, which should be a free voice. That is why I believe I can chip away at those things holding me back and start really speaking. Maybe I'll learn something in the process, who knows.

I got my Joanna Newsom ticket! I was literally ready to have a complete and total emotional breakdown when I went to buy it yesterday and found them sold out. Luckily for me, they added another show the next night. Safe. Then I pay for my $30 ticket and how much does it end up being? $45. I chose standard mail so no surcharge there, it's in a synagogue, so no stadium fees or anything, just the convenience charge and some other fee. 50%. That's 50% more than the original cost to print a ticket and send it to me. That just makes no sense to me. I wish they just built those costs into the price of the ticket so I'd be able to say "Sweet, I get to see Joanna Newsom for $45!" and then pay $45, instead of "Damn! Only $30 tickets for Joanna Newsom!" which end up at $45. It'd be nice to have someone with me, but I don't really care. The only other person I know who likes her is Nick, and his enjoyment it tangential at best. To be fair, he absolutely showed her to me first, but I took it and ran. So I'll sit in the pew and marvel and enjoy my first real concert alone. Can't wait.

So I'm not gonna go into all the shit that's going on right now just yet. But it's some seriously shitty shit. Watching a human being you love unravel is the hardest thing a person can be asked to endure. Can't fix it, can't change it, but must be strong, must endure it. No matter how bad it is to watch, it is a fraction of the pain of going through it, so if I can reduce that pain in any way, I will endure it without fail and with love.

Why were we fighting last night? I watched HIMYM and only have two eps left in season 2 and you watched Taking Woodstock, which I need to hear about. Both of these activities were supposed to wind us down from the hard stuff we've had to deal with all day. Wine helped.

But then we just went off. I make assumptions like "we've looked at this place and both liked it so I don't need to comment on it again" which ends up hurting you. You say one thing and subliminally drop what you really want to say but won't say outright like "I'm doing a lot of legwork" when you really want to say "You said you'd help me with this and you aren't." So both of us react to those, you by being hurt, and me by seething and refusing to comment on what you're hinting at until you just come out and say it. And I know I haven't been contributing really. I'm never even on my computer unless I'm at work, where in theory I'm supposed to work. I get home, exhausted because I don't ever sleep enough, hang out for an hour, cook dinner, eat dinner, and within an hour of then I'm on the phone until I go to sleep. But what I need isn't hints or insinuation. When I get that, I make smart ass comments like pointing out how many emails I've actually been sent (which is also a jerk response by me to your ability to remember every word that passes between us). I need "this is a lot of work that I'm doing, and I want to share the burden more, especially since it is just the two of us now." And I did say I'd help you more, and I've been letting you down. And I did say 'pass' on all the other one's with a landlord before, but I also wanted to say last night that by then I'll be 25 and over 3 years out of college so the ability to throw a rager is pretty low on my priority list for what is a deal breaker, but I didn't. I should have. When I said "I've been trying to say this..." I didn't even say what I'd been trying to say. I also didn't tell you that I'm really ok with complexes that Raritan Crossing that fix everything for you, shovel your snow, have free heat, yadda yadda. I really, really am. Eaton Square killed my bed bugs for free and forever endeared themselves to me. We just need to find one that works for both of us.

So really we came into the conversation emotionally spent from the day, and, upon delving into real life stuff, had no other recourse than to take our moods further south. I am sorry, and I didn't want that.

And I'm a mumbler. I'm really going to try and work on that. Rabble rabble. :-)

So you and me. Fresh start on home search. I'll consider it as though I've seen nothing. I simply cannot wait to start an amazing life with you.

Our house is a very, very fine house
With two cats in the yard
Life used to be so hard
Now everything is easy
'Cause of you

"Bless our house and its heart so savage."

So done today. Already.

Not even nine hours of sleep in two nights.

Collection call right on time, as they have been every day for over a week, for a car that I don't drive. MY car has no payments. Never should've done it.

I need to start working on my spiritual fortitude; get it back to where it was, because it was strong. Stronger than it had ever been. First time in my life I don't have enough trust to fall back on it, and that hurts. Missed Mass more times in last few months than probably in whole life.

Little blessings. Joanna Newsom is coming to DC! I get to see my favorite harp-playing musical master.Only someone truly gifted and truly crazy in that perfect way a truly gifted person is could create 17 minute ballads where the vocals barely stop...all help together by that marvelous harp (and her backing band, in that's song's case). Also, some of my other favorite songs that are in the normal 3-4 minute range, though just as brilliant.

I don't like fighting. When I do fight, I like winning. In most fights there are no winners or losers, though, and everyone just ends up worse for wear. I awoke with horrible images on my mind, followed by a continual flow of horrible images from my past. I've seen the worst of humanity, and I was...am...angry about being treated paternalistically, as though an amateur or a child in my exposure to man's cruelty to man. Perhaps it's not anger and perhaps it is. I like to think I have this great understanding of my emotions, but it isn't true. Half the time they move faster than I can keep track of, so right when I think I know how I feel, I'm already late to the party. Assumptions of a whole group based on the actions of a few are wrong, but so are assumptions of an individual based on what you think you know about them. As I said, most times in fights, everyone is wrong and everyone loses.

Sometimes I feel like I've irrevocably damaged my mind. I have so many segments to my life that they seem like different lifetimes. I've known and experienced so many good and wonderful things and people and so many bad and horrible things and people. I feel disentangled from so much of it though. It's a fog I can't penetrate. I don't remember things I should remember about people and events in my life. I feel like there are things I've done that I just don't remember. That's one reason I hold onto so much stuff, because without the physical evidence to remind me, I lose the story. I've always done so, so perhaps this has always been with me. When I cleaned a ton of my "hoarder-ish" stuff out of my room at home before moving in with Nolan, I took a picture of each one, because I need it to remind me what happened with each of those things. Should focus on feelings of contentment with what I had from when I got the penance not to drink, watch tv, play video games or eat superfluous food...if I could remember them.

So, I'm tired, my credit is being actively hurt and I'm not even doing anything, I'm lagging in my relationship with God, I can't remember things that I wish I could, I'm recovering from a fight where nobody won, and I should be working diligently right now. I do, however, get to see Joanna Newsom in March, making that the next foreseeable event in my future filed in the 'awesome' category.

And I am in love. And to quote you, you cheer me up by your very existence.

Andrew Largeman: and I like you.
[Sam, embarassed, giggles]
Andrew Largeman: So there's that. I guess I have that.

Sam: I can tap-dance. You wanna see me tap-dance?
Andrew Largeman: I would love to see you tap-dance.

Rebuild. Reboot.

"The clocks were asleep and
Asleep's how we found them
We found them and wound them again
But they didn't last us 'til morning,
A warning-
That you never should force
Mechanical things
They're not meant for hardship
They'll snap if you
Tighten and wind them
And pry them and try"

- Regina Spektor

"Good morning! Express! Good morning everyone!"

As I exited the train station onto the windy, freezing DC streets, the only thought in my head was how much I didn't want to be where I was. The first thing I heard was "Good morning! Good morning everyone! Good morning!" and I was immediately bitter about how not good this morning was.

The next thing I heard was "Express!" and I realized the woman in the crossing guard-esque neon yellow vest with reflecty strips was handing out the free daily paper. I didn't take one, but that's not really the point. What really struck me was the woman; for every "Express!" she fit in 3 or 4 "Good morning!" and "Good morning everyone!"s. Now I have no idea how someone handing out a free newspaper than can be picked up from the bins, literally, on nearly every corner of DC gets paid, BUT I do know that I can't muster that kind of enthusiasm or good spirit for my fellows in the morning, and I'd wager I make a little more. In addition, I don't have to stand in the freezing wind and be systematically ignored by 80% of the people passing me by. What struck me most was the "everyone" she tagged on the end. Her wishes weren't just for those who stopped to take one or even took it in stride, it was for everyone leaving the station on their way to work or school.

I was waiting for the light to change listening to her wish all those people ignoring her a good morning, and I decided "dammit, if she can wish everyone a good morning and stand in the cold to hand out free papers in that ridiculous vest, then the least I can do is smile and be determined to have that good morning." Now I'm not sure exactly what I can change about my behavior at work to do that, but I know I can change my focus. I can be thankful for this lovely office, this well-paying job, my beautiful girlfriend, my loving family, my adoring fans...wait. I think the best way is for me to keep the smile that started on that street corner on my face. A smile will let everyone know "Yes, I am having a good morning, and you should too, because you aren't standing outside handing out papers."

Maybe the entire message won't come along quite so clearly, but hopefully it'll be a little contagious.


Lord, may I be a man who thinks of others first
May I be a man who says 'good morning everyone'
May the joy of one smile spread like a wildfire
And may it engulf the hearts of all who see it