2006-02-02 - 5:18 p.m.

She was so soft, my fingers were unable to detect her skin even as I reached out to grab on to the girl that got away.

The weather is playing games with my sinuses... warm, cold, warm, cold...enough already. It's bad enough I can't get dressed in the morning without first going outside... but to add a runny nose and reeling headache to it? Ferocious.

A couple of cool cats and I have decided to give the band thingy another go-round. I've been scraping my fingers against the guitar night in and night out for months now and writing, and re-writing, and cursing and kicking and now the tunes are becoming more than just ammunition to drunkingly brag "I write songs" and more along the line of "I perform songs." The piano is still there, but it's more of an old friend then an armrest once used to keep a booze hound elevated through a 3 hour set.

An ebony hollow body and a fading white telecaster to help emote the feelings that words alone cannot simply express. Coming soon to a semi-empty bar near you: 5 guys with lots of issues and plenty of good fasion sense.

What do you do when you turn 25? Daniel turns 21 this year, the change has been collecting and fermenting in the back of my closet. Two Novembers ago, when he was 19, I made a promise to myself to save up every coin I came across and toss it into a bag in my closet. That meant the days of exact change were gone. If my main squeeze, freshly created, garden burrito cost $6.01, well then I was paying with $7.00. And then the .99 cents was rattling in my pocket all day until it was deposited first into the Walnut Bowl fashioned and awkwardly given to me by me eldest Uncle Dan (ironic?). There it gathered with it's friends until they threatened to overtake the brim, at which point I would bust out the change rolls and march them coin by coin into their respective uniforms.

At the risk of young master Daniel reading this, I cannot disclose the current amount of savings hidden in the back of my closet, but I will say this. It weighs in at almost 95lbs currently. Can't wait to see the look on the tellers face when I wheel this monstrosity in for counting and converting. Sounds like a Handi-Cam moment to me.

And then on the eve of his 21st, we'll be Vegas bound for a night where we blow the entire wad. Whether it's at a Texas Hold-Em Table surrouned by high rolling playboys, in the VIP section of some high class nightclub, or just nerding out over a brightly-lit arcade. The young man will make the rules, I'll simply provide the scrills.

Another day has come to a close. 9-5 no longer, thanks to grad school and two jobs I'm more of a 6-9er. And I don't even have the energy to crack wise about that either.

All the risks we take, every silly mistake that we dismiss. I'm a stain, I'm a typo, I'm a missed call and a slurred response. But I could be yours.

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