2006-04-07 - 10:23 a.m.

All in all a very stressful set of weeks. Some solace has been found in the warming weather, a feeling I haven't been accustomed to a while. Naturally a child of Fall, I typically view spring as just in-between time while I wait for my favorite weather to return.

But in the midst of this oh-so busy and bountiful life, I've begun to appreciate time spent outside in the warmth as it is time not spent in a cube, not spent in a classroom, and definitely not spent behind a bar. It's also time that is not dependent on money and more importnatly, not dependent on the redciulous games that people like to fabricate because their lives have become exactly that... devoid of anything except for the occasional game they can manufacture to keep things somewhat interesting (interesting in this case is defined as causing and or serving as a catalyst for drama in the hopes of gaining attention). A run on sentence, I know. Let's replace it with something simple like, "You fuckin screw-ups, give it a rest."

So I've been spending all my extra minutes outside in my yard turning the ground over and learning the ancient art of lawn care. Sinking chipped and cracked fingernails into the soil like an au naturale manicure, feeling little creepy crawlies pass through my hands as I struggle to create a bed that will foster some kind of life other than the ever present weeds. And in these spare moments spent in my own backyard, I can find the peace that lets me deal with the trials and tribulations that a day in the life of David brings.

The first semester of grad school is drawing to a close, and somehow I've kept A's and B's in my classes all the while juggling full time work, part time bartending, the birth of a new band, and intramural sports. Somewhere along the way, I even held a handful of dinner parties, hosted poker night, and threw what was heralded as the best birthday party ever.

I started a book, and it's progressing slowly surely. The name's and face's might not be changed to protect the less than innocent, but hey, that's life.

The band is finally shaping up the way I've talked about it for the past 4 years. Songs I've written now echo off the confines of a cozy but a little too cramped laundry room. Motivation is a funny thing. I've never felt a lack of it, always seeming to have it in spades... but it never ceases to surprise me where the extra bursts of motivation can come from. A little tinge of jealousy here, a little feeling of mistreatment there... have we not oft heard that the best music, stories, etc... are derived from chaotic and painful instances? So I grab a hold of these emotions, as ugly and as shameful as they are, and I yank them down and put them into ink. And they become the driving force behind the things that I want to accomplish.

So back to the yard. I walk around barefoot as I tend to the yard, stepping on seed pods, sticks, etc... And the pain, when it comes, is a dull, throbbing and somewhat warm pain that reminds me that I'm outside being productive instead of at work or class... so my mind associates the feeling with happiness, and when I step on the first sharp stick that draws blood, I see it not as an injury, but as a blessing.

Life is fantastic friends. Just push through your tough times and keep living in the present. Your enemies will fall by the wayside, and pretty soon the emotions you feel ashamed of will cease to wake you in the night.

"Every wrinkle is a battle that I was able to walk away from."

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