10/29: inbox (1)

back in the day- before emails, cell phones, text messages, voice mail- there were letters. (what, real letters?)

YES! actual letters where the other half of the conversation was postponed for days, maybe even weeks until the other person replied.

i read the most wonderful letter once. it was by John Steinbeck in 1958 to his son at boarding school- who believed he fell in love.

(if you don't know him- hes the guy who wrote East of Eden and Of Mice and Men- that guy).

seriously if you haven't read this before- read through his letter first before you read anything else- it is wonderful...

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,
Fa

i never liked the idea of writing a letter until i read this.

too me- it was odd because it was something no one did anymore. something that your grandparents did when they were off fighting world wars or separated by an ocean. we live in a world were instantaneous conversations are allowed to happen, so what would be the point of waiting a week to get a reply?

well, my sister told me something a few weeks ago that made me realize a letter could be useful. 

"you cant comprehend something over the phone"

sure you could...but at that moment i was on the verge of a very non-practical, throw yourself in front of a bus- tell all, awkward yet overwhelming phone conversation...and to be completely honest- i couldn't even comprehend myself saying it either. 

"just send an email"

(okay, okay- letters like Steinbeck's are now in emails and wayyy less formal- whatever, its the 21st century)

so i did it.

my letter- sent...and awaiting a reply.

i love Steinbeck's letter because its written from what he knows to be true. which is the same reason i wrote mine.

the thing is- we never find out what happened with Thom, or what he did after he got this letter. (probably the greatest letter ever written)  if Steinbeck said this over the phone- Thom would have been like "okay dad- i don't understand" or have asked 1000 questions with "what if" and "why."

letters are nice because they allow you to tell what you know, and give you time to comprehend it...if and only if you are one to open up for something un-comprehendable.

i don't really know what will come of my letter. its not like today where you send a text message and get a "read" or a check mark next to the name if the person has opened it. or a voicemail saying "got your message-call me back." it could have been very nicely placed in the "deleted items" section of windows outlook. who knows.

Steinbeck's words of wisdom are so optimistic and timeless. there's nothing short of the absolute truth in what he says.

i wonder if letters written in 2012 could have any of the same significance they did back in 1958? if people are still able to comprehend them in the same way?

its possible?

i guess if you don't get a response to your letter then your no Steinbeck.

if the world still values your efforts of truth and optimism then a letter will do some good (no response? oh well...)

phones, text messages, all that- if you want someone to see exactly what you want them to see- well write a letter for them to comprehend it (also if your feeling ballsy)

as the man himself says- "don’t worry about losing. if it is right, it happens — the main thing is not to hurry. nothing good gets away"

that's it.

10/22: never know

senior year of high school we were allowed to have a favorite quote at the bottom of our picture in the yearbook.

it's great to look back at them and see how immature we all were back then with our inside party jokes, takes on "i'd tap that" or see how much influence Tupac still had on half our class.

at the time, i remember getting that stupid note card and wondering what the hell id write down. would i pick something someone else already chose? or would i pick something i'd look back on in 10 years and say, wow- high school sucked.

for my yearbook quote i literally just wrote down the title to one of my favorite songs at the time. so under my senior year picture, class of 2008- there i am, with the quote "Never Know" taken from the song by Jack Johnson. (so cool, i know)

i never really told anyone my reasoning behind that quote. i guess at the time all i wanted to do was get out of that place so i didnt tell anyone...

i kept to myself for a good amount of those 4 years. i entered the worlds most cliquey high school as an outsider. all the "feeder" middle school kids were not from my junior high district and all of my best friends went to another high school. if you knew who i was...it was probably because i sat behind you in class. which by then- we would have become friends on one level or another.

truth be told...there is a reason why i picked "never know" as my senior year quote.

since cross-country was half my life throughout high school, i would be lying to you if i said that it didn't have any influence on the person i am today. it was a good time, and i learned a lot

beside the fact that i could run a 19:00 three mile and fake a stomach cramp, i learned how to balance school, work, sports, and horses in one day and still have time for myself.

our coach would spend at least an hour after practice going over stats, improvements, meets, and to our dismay was able to squeeze a "quote of the day" plus logic, before it hit 7:00p. we'd sit around and stare at each other half the time wondering if he was ever going to stop talking so we could go home.

after an 8 mile run when all the other sports teams left the last thing we wanted to do was sit and listen to our coach pour more useless crap into our brains while dinner at home was getting cold and we had piles of homework to get done. "and just remember before you leave...(7:05)...every great achievement is the result of a heart on fire....now get out of here" (thank god)

as much as i hated the man, he did have one good "quote of the day." it was the same quote he used every friday before a meet for all 4 years of high school," and it was the only quote i still love today...

"expect nothing, be prepared for anything"

the only reason i didn't want to use this quote in the yearbook was because i didn't want to quote the man who told me to take a hike for wanting to take ACT prep classes instead of training for indoor track.

so instead i picked my own version of this quote, which ended up being "never know" (thank you Jack Johnson)

1 year (20 cross country meets, 30 track meets, and all of summer running) for four years has taught me to "expect nothing, be prepared for anything"

no surprise- it's still stuck to me.

back then it only referred to race day where 3 miles later you would know you took a chance to reach your goal time or you were going to be stuck running the "big hill" at KLM come tuesday's practice.

now- its just a nice quote to fall back on for all the chances you take that are associated with "unknowns"

there are always going to be those times where you just don't know what will happen next. something could be so far out of your control that the outcome could be anything. or maybe everything is in your control, but your next move is some undistinguished blip on your radar

you don't know. actually- you never will know.

if you took a chance, you should accept that anything could happen.

taking chances is like voluntarily playing a game of russian roulette- you know the gun is loaded and you still put it up to your head and hope you make it out alive. you put it there because your ready to take the chance.

if you pull the trigger and live to see the next day, i'd say it was one hell of a game.

although you don't have a gun to your head when you finally take that chance on someone or something, anything could happen. its just in your best interest to not expect something that's out of your control.

in high school i never accepted that my last race time was my best time. i knew i could do better- so come race day i'd see if the chance i took worked. during the week it was hell, but by the time the gun went off on saturday morning- i had 3 miles to make it happen. if it didn't- at least i tried.

today is the same thing. you cant just accept something because someone told you that's what you deserve. you cant expect that past outcomes will repeat themselves. and of course, you cant hold back from taking a chance because you're afraid of what will follow

you wont know what will happen. so whats stopping you?

looking back at that quote yesterday- i think i should have probably picked something cute and innocent for my yearbook quote. keep the same Jack Johnson motif..."Sitting, Waiting, Wishing"??? (if i lived by that i would have owwwned that "big hill" at KLM)

take a chance, expect nothing- but be prepared for anything. that's it.

10/16: notes from the peanut gallery

every morning at 7:10, a black infiniti pulls up to my house and gives 2 honks...that's my que- (shit, the day has started...why is it only tuesday?) 

if your lucky to commute with your parents to work via car (even half the time)-

1. it will save you a quarter of a months rent
2. you get to sleep in the car and fight last nights happy hour and/or lack of sleep
3. you avoid the CTA and parking
4. experience what your parents have been doing in the car for the last 30yrs without you

exciting? no of course not- your 22 years old and your driving with your dad...to work!

if i was 17 and i got a ride to school every morning it would be frowned upon- this is worse. but if im saving around 200 dollars a month, id say hey- smart. but...somewhere someones saying- "does your dad pick you up in front of the office too?" (no.)

it used to be the alarm at 11am and a 5 min put-on-cloths and run to class. now 6:30am, 20 min get-ready and a 1.5 hr commute with my ever-so-shocking dad through a traffic war where its every driver for himself (when i don't take the train, of course). 4 months later, im still alive.

i'll warn you- this is not Driving Ms. Daisy. theres nothing short of near death experiences, whiplash, tight turns, tire skids, engine revving, racial slur spitting goodness of my morning commute with my dad. the passenger seat has become my own peanut gallery of observation and entertainment. but then again..its 7am and i need a few of those to wake me up...

the notes- well they start here: at 50, my italian father (nicknamed dago-joe), a new car- streakless windows, a double shot of espresso with ice, Led Zeppelin on full volume, sunglasses on and 2 honks at 7:10am.

"hey dad." "so, how was your night, did you do anything?" usually amounting to a variation of:

1. "nope"
2. "i never do anything"
3. "went horseback riding"
4. "watched a movie"
5. "went to bed by 10"

"cool" (que Pink Floyd).

whats awesome is that our conversations only last 2 mins if and only if we actually talk the entire hour and a half. ive learned not to say a word while my dads driving or comment on the fact that he blows through 4 red lights a day on average. why? well because hes been driving to work alone for 30 years and has his routine down to a science. you have 3 options...

1. keep conversations to the 3-Ws: the weather, the weekend, work
2. don't speak, look out the window
3. sleep (watch out, you will be woken up by grinding stops or yelling)

we don't take the highway like normal drivers do on their morning commute. there is no way in HELL my dad would take the highway even if there was no one on the road. driving with my dad- we take "the back roads."

back roads: a combination of 30-40mph side streets in the direction of the city- usually involving Ogden Ave, Kostner, Roosevelt, I-290, Exit 28B, Ogden Ave, various streets in West Loop, Grand St., Clark St., Wells St., Illinois St. (please note shady areas, people smoking crack in cars, large crowds of people in streets from 6p-7p, photo enforced lights, trains, construction, men walking in the middle of the street with shopping carts of the weekends garbage goodies, and enormous pot holes) if anything gets in your way, increase speed to 50mph, or veer into oncoming traffic or sidewalks. 

halfway down Ogden- my dad will start to play classical music on XM radio. by then the drive is already turning into a comedy...

mixed in with the endless lines of people trying to avoid cars making right and left hand turns on a 2 lane road you will get something in between curse words and vulgar comments- also not limited to racial slurs, all while listening to J.S. Bach's famous Brandenburg Concerto...

1. you fuck
2. what in the fuck do you think you are doing
3. look at this ass hole trying to get in front of me
4. look at this mexican, i see him all the time- some speedy gonzales
5. look at this guy- look at this guy! all a bunch of daredevils today

throw in a few n-words, a few more f-bombs, and a couple drive by death stares and you can safely say you've hit the half-way mark of your drive to or from work.

don't call your dad a racist- he will just say "theres a difference!" or "you have your car get a flat in this neighborhood and then tell me not to say that" or the famous "what- you saw that didn't you??" i tend not to question his judgement just because he grew up in mob-town chicago circa1960.

as you get closer to your destination you may start feel like you might be sick. make sure you don't eat anything until you get to work or have gotten home. all those tight turns, crash avoiding stops and random 0-50 spurts will be hard on your stomach for the first month. you may also want to rethink your morning coffee. (your dad can do it, but remember...hes a vet)

i want to say ive had some meaningful heart-to-hearts with my dad during our commutes. but so far all my life lessons have been narrowed down to...

1. learning how not to drive
2. how other people drive
3. how you should drive
4. how you need a horn (car horn) in life
5. "you never know what your going to get" (referring to traffic)

if your looking for a sentimental talk with your father...save it for dinner, or at the very least until your out of the car. confined spaces mixed with an unconventional atmosphere only lead to more gut-wrenching stops and 50mph peel-outs.

about 10 mins closer to your destination, the drive becomes a little more of joy ride where you may even be able to share a few laughs or laugh at some of your dads antics (unless your on a time crunch where speed and hardcore maneuvering become the only thing that matters).

its nice on the way home when i get to see how he texts and drives. its like watching ducks cross the street- he has no idea what to do. (common dad- its a 2:1 look-text ratio, its what all the kids are doing) its not so nice when your dad is single and your at a stop light. why? under those sunglasses he will look at all the women crossing the street and say "oh, shes pretty." (ew, get me out of this car- now)

if you have pissed my dad off at some point in life, have taken his "choice" parking spot, or are the lady that backed into him on my 2nd week of work- he will proceed to call you out for the person you are while pointing as you drive by. (note- do not be one of those people for you will be lectured on it everyday)

by the time the car enters the parking garage on the way to work or by the time you see the driveway of your house- the relief you will feel that you have survived a car ride will be enormous.

its no doubt that chicago drivers are their own species- but my dad...hes one of a kind. i don't understand the "your dad is awesome" comment, only because i see him doing this shit everyday and think hes crazy.

but- i guess it is a little awesome that he can make it to and from work without a scratch on his car or a pinched nerve in 1.5 hrs or less. appreciate your dad giving you a ride to work for these reasons...

1. its a free ride

2. its a free ride

3. its a free ride

and you also get to spend some time with your dad- even though he is a nut.

kiss the ground you walk on because the next ride with death is only 8 hrs away. that's it.

10/15: beauty in the eye of the beholder

between last fall and this fall the weather has no idea what to do with itself.

warm winter straight into the summer that never got under 80, no rain or snow. hell- the weather even screwed up the seasons. the weather channel told us that this years extreme weather were going to lead to a colorful fall. 

colorful is an understatement- i think this weekend mother nature had the hiccups... 

overcast and mist, torrential monsoon rain like something out of a vietnam film, funnel clouds, tornado sirens, warm breezes, cold 50mph gusts of wind, lightning, thunder- anything outside snow- you name it im pretty sure we had a few seconds of it this weekend.

with intermittent sun and calm- getting outside became a game.

incredibly, whenever i thought the weekend couldn't get any more boring and RetroWeekend on Comedy Central just didn't hit the spot- the weather let up just enough to go outside.

since ive been home, ive enjoyed walks around town, getting lost on streets while listening to music (classic rock, preferably). hours of wandering and thinking. even better, seeing the seasons change.

when i was in Amsterdam there was something beautiful about walking through the city when it sunny, but even more beautiful when it was raining; the colors were incredible.

it was amazing to see how greens and browns of a city could look one way in the light, but when it rained-looked their absolute best against a gray sky. (crazy)

after that- i have always loved being outdoors on a cloudy day.

while waiting for the rain to pass on saturday, someone popped into my mind while looking at the tree across the street slowly change from green to yellow. (this is what no obligations or responsibilities on a rainy weekend amounts to) 

-the leaves brought back a particular memory where i met this person. hes actually one of the most prominent people i know today. sure i still don't know everything about that person (i also think he probably thinks im an annoying gnat), but hes truly always been that person who has stood out in my mind as full of life.

like the tree across the street, this person is colorful, rich- even eye catching for anyone who walks by. i wanted to go with the colorful the weather channel pointed out- but instead there was better word...

 

vivid. 

well, after looking at that tree for about 3 mins and realizing the rain stopped, i decided to go for a walk. i grabbed my dog and my ipod- put on some rolling stone classics and spent the next 2 hours wandering the streets of suburbia.

for every vivid color i saw against the gray background of the sky- i took a picture. even though the town probably started to wonder who the weirdo was taking pictures while the tornado sirens were going off- i wanted to capture it before the incoming winds blew everything away.

why? because even vivid colors, like vivid people are meant to be appreciated for everything they are.

-that's it.

10/12: inspiration

can i give you some advice? find someone who inspires you.

no, but really- you should.

relationships, friendships, whatever. find someone or something that inspires you.

when i was growing up i had never fully understood what it was like to live in a household that wasn't on the verge of being WWIII. i had never remembered a time where my parents loved each other or a moment where they showed it.

there was always a cop in the kitchen at 3am or an incident involving my dad attempting to throw the car at my mom. my sister and i had understood what chaos was before love by the time we were 7.

(-but when two people hate each other that much, hey...you might want to throw a car at them too) it wasn't that sad when they got divorced- somewhere in the back of our minds we knew it was a good thing.

it was no surprise that they both wanted to get it right the second time around. after 15 years, 1 marriage and a few heart breaks later, i think they're still both trying to figure it out.

i took my moms advice when she said find someone who compliments you. its great advice and theres no doubt in my mind that i had been trying in hopes that one day when i get married i don't get divorced. but it took me a few of my own relationships to notice that its not just that. you need to find someone who inspires you.

last night talking to one of my best friends got me thinking about it.

we were sitting at the Green Mill, talking over 2 beers across the bar from a crazy look-a-like of Zach Galifianakis, waiting for a concert to start. a beer and a half in- and we found ourselves on the topic of past relationships. practically growing up together- we had witnessed each others fair share of relationships, or had at least heard the countless stories of them.

no matter how many people we had had relationships with, we have yet to find that little bit of inspiration in someone to keep us coming back for more. (or find someone that could handle the idea that we drink straight from the milk carton). where were these people? why hadn't we found that one person who inspires us? were we ever going to?

i stumbled upon this article after a break-up with my ex once (no- not some cheap advice you get from Cosmo while waiting in line at the grocery store and no- i was not some sad sobby wreck of a girl). it was about the difference between attractions of deprivation and inspiration.  (yes i googled "how to find love")

so what. it was really an eye-opener. up until then i had never really understood how much the lack of inspiration in someone could drag your relationship to the ground. for all the relationships i had found myself in at that point (friendships included)- i could not pick out a quality in them that made me feel inspired. no acceptance, decency to do good, or willingness to work with the things that make us who we are.

granted i was a little bummed that i hadn't been in love yet. and after countless make-ups and break-ups over my college days, it finally got to the point where i realized i had invested too much effort into trying to make something that was never going to work- work.

for as long as i could remember i was always a one-woman baseball team playing every position except the person at bat. they could hit the ball wherever they wanted it- and i responded- catching flys, making double plays, and if i got lucky i stuck them out. but it was all for the love of the game. i had convinced myself that the person at bat knew they wanted to hit it out to left field and score a home-run, but when it came down to pitching, they missed. every person i had ever dated missed the pitches i made. no one saw the curve ball in time to swing. plain and simple- i made plays. i have yet to find anyone who has kept me in the game long enough to switch-sides.

(okay- i don't get the baseball analogy)

talking to my friend- all the people i had dated didn't know what they wanted, they simply played the game. how are you suppose to be inspired by that? being inspired by someone fuels well-being for two people. the love i offered for people (the pitch) was always missed in certain ways, maybe never fully saw it, or wound up figuring out the pitch, but never making it to the base. and as much as i wanted to be the person at bat (the person receiving the same love)- well, sometimes one inning just goes on too long.

anyway.

in light of last night, and that little piece of advice from google- i had realized that there was a reason why none of my relationships with people ever worked, maybe even why other people's don't either. theres no inspiration.

everyone holds their own version of what their inspired by in a person. without that inspiration, were only going to revert back to that version of ourselves that continues to get hurt, or not find love.

i could tell my parents at one time complimented each other- but i don't think they could be in love with each other because they were never inspired by one another, and they will never be. its probably taken them forever to try to figure it out- if and only if they ever do. but i think that also kind of inspires me to make sure i find the right people in my life. 

finding that inspiration in someone will only expand us in ways we never thought we could.

don't you want that? isn't that what you should be looking for in your relationships?

i'd like to think so. but hey- ive never been in love or have seen it, so hold my opinion objectively.

(i mean, i still think love is holding up a boom-box outside my window while playing Peter Gabriel).

hey-it could happen! but im still searching for that little bit of inspiration first- that's it.

10/8: fish out of water

if there's any ones advice i will always listen to, its my family's.

friends- of course. but family, always. it can be subtle hints. "its going to rain today" (bring an umbrella), or "i think you may have been a little harsh" (go apologize to your sister), or the classic, "grow up" (get your shit together/ stop being so miserable/ your not 5/ if your going to burp- cover your mouth, and don't rate it 1-10).

im never surprised that they find something new to say that sheds light on a particular situation or mood that im feeling. this weekend- was no exception.

friday night, after 3 tall beers and a shot of tequila on an empty stomach with my cousin, walking to the train was a breeze. no one on the streets and the 8:40 train about 10 mins from departure. im set. all there was to do was sit on the train, keep my drunken self from talking to people, and sober up some to walk from the train to my house. (no problem).

well- about 10 mins into the ride, the motion of the train was starting to mix with my high level of intoxication- but only to the point where i was going to fall asleep. "THE NEXT STOP WILL BE CICERO."

i wake up 3 hours later. im still in Cicero. it didn't occur to me that the train had been stopped for 3 hours because of a suicide a few stops up. had i been awake i could have called for a cab. lucky for me, i hadn't passed up my stop yet.

when my dad called 20 mins later to ask where i was- i drunkenly told him, "Cicero. suicide."

he knew exactly what had happened and why i hadn't been home yet so he told me, "see you never know what you going to encounter" (you should have probably not been such a drunk ass and called me 3 hours ago so i could have picked you up). "i know- im awake now."

midnight, 2 quesadillas, and an episode of Louie later- i woke up the next morning in my cloths with my cat to my mom peering through my door. "watcha doing" (what time did you get home? you look like shit. did you really sleep in that?). "im going to Jewel" (get up, your coming with me).

not wanting to move, i was told by my mother- yes by my mom..."you need to rally, this is what you do on the weekends" (make the most of it, because you only have today and tomorrow for fun). by then- i was out of bed ready to tackle the day, and my monster headache.

4 hours later i found myself downtown, wearing Notre Dame colors, drinking heineken and partying with my family. as great as it was- it was a challenge to have any excitement/school spirit for a team that wasn't the Hawkeyes. not to mention i was still recovering from the night before.

a breath of fresh air and a Zico later, my step brother- wearing a kelly-green blazer gave me a drunk pep talk at the bar. holding my shoulders and shaking me back to reality "you need to enjoy this time, no matter how awkward it is. i was in your position before, and you just need to go crazy and get out of your shell" (......................).

he knew exactly what i was feeling. awkward 22, no friends around, not doing the things you normally do, living with your parents, having your parents drive you nuts at a bar trying to introduce you to men who are 19, finding yourself in weird situations, going to places you don't want to be, finding out who you are. yes- he said it all in that kelly-green blazer.

and i took it. i knew he was right. no matter how out of place i felt the whole weekend, i knew that it was just one of those moments where i needed to get out of my shell- be a fish out of water, and just make the most of it. at least i knew that it worked out for the man in the kelly-green blazer. he has his life going for him in ways i could only imagine for myself.

although he was family, he had been there. and even though i felt like shit the entire day- i had so much fun.

a shot of patron later and i was sitting second row and soldier field. "see i told you this would be fun" (thanks mom for teaching me how to really rally)

although im never going to stop rating my burps 1-10 (especially because i can out-burp anyone), i know that when family advice comes around- im going to take it. they only have your best interest at heart.

i had survived another hangover, another tailgate, and another weekend with my family. and that was that.

10/4: sweet disposition

sweet disposition by the temper trap- possibly one of my favorite songs ever.

you can read about song lyrics and their meanings and try to apply them to you life but i never do. for some reason, every time i think of this song i think of the same thing...

love. but not just any love. love that builds slowly and gradually and just gets better and better.

say what you want and call me cheesy- but its true. 

but what is sweet disposition, really?

i mean...really it could be anything sweet. but it would have to be in your state of mind regarding something.

for me its just love.

i remember when i first heard this song i was watching a preview for 500 Days of Summer. the scene where Zooey Deschanel says..."there's no such thing as love- its fantasy" and Joseph Gorden Levitt says- "i think your wrong." (Que song).

if you've never had a feeling that love is real- maybe you should listen to this song. just saying.

there are so many moments where this song has played over and over in my head during certain times where i've gotten that feeling.

-that's when i know its real.

its funny to have a song be played in your head when you think of love. i'm sure most people get butterflies or turn red. nah- sweet disposition.

...its just a feeling of love and instantly it makes you feel even more sure of your minds state of happiness.

maybe i'll make you see it this way...

being abroad in Amsterdam there was one moment where "sweet disposition" came on my ipod riding my bike through the city. it had been one of the few days it didn't rain and everything was just clear. the people around me, the city, the history, the green in the trees, brick houses. at that moment, i knew that i loved this city. it was incredible. everything came together. even though i was completely alone in a city where i knew no one and nothing about- i felt at home.

another? i always get "sweet disposition" when im on a horse and no one is watching me ride. its a free feeling and that you can run anywhere, as fast as you want to go. your never solo, because that's all a horse wants to do too...be free and run. ive been riding my whole life, but every time i ride- i know that its better than the last ride. its something i love- and the love for it is only growing, making my rides better and better.

clear now? well, maybe.

these instances of sweet disposition- well those are continuous- they're the ones that will always be there when i go back to them and they'll always be around and keep happening.

but there was one moment where i don't yet know if i can ever get back.

last weekend. i had "sweet disposition" in a way ive never had it before. sweet disposition to the point where every part of the song just went through my head and at that moment- nothing else in the world could have mattered. it was happening- actually happening..."A moment of love, A dream, A laugh, A kiss."

to actually feel like my favorite song made sense! (hell yeah- of course everyone wants to get that about their favorite love song) but it was so much more than that. it was Amsterdam, horseback riding, running wild, driving in my car-windows down-blaring music, McDonald's breakfast when you wake up before 10, butterflies in your stomach, daisies, diving off a cliff...everything love.

if you ever have the opportunity to read the lyrics of the song and try to understand what was going on through my head- well you'll read it the exact way i was experiencing it.

i thought back to that scene in 500 Days of Summer...love wasn't a fantasy, it was something that's real...or at least could be real?

who knows. at least Joseph Gorden Levitt didn't know either. but it happened. and when sweet disposition happens again, i'll know its real.

for now- i have horses and waking up before 10am for McDonald's breakfast. i just hope that other sweet disposition feeling comes back.

as for today, that is it.

10/3: song for you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fo_enc7uKYU

10/2: going up

leaving work yesterday i ran into a very confused man in the elevator.

he asked me..."how do i get to the lobby?"

surely, you would think..hey- that nice "lobby" button might be your one way ticket to getting out, buddy.

this man looked very confused. so i just said, "oh don't worry, these elevators are a little wacky sometimes." (pushing the lobby button, trying to ease his frustration). he smiled. im glad we didn't stop on any of the floors down, because the second i got out of the elevator, this man was arrested.

for what you ask? apparently this guy assaulted some worker on the top floor. i just happened to be the person along for the ride on his escape route.

for some reason, getting off the elevator i didn't even stay to watch. i didn't care- the guy did nothing to me. walking out, it didn't even phase me that i was in the elevator with a criminal.

it was just another day in the elevator.

i know some people who hate the 30 seconds of elevator music-being stuck in a confined space with people you don't know. yeah, i get it. but why not try to take it in for what its worth? how many opportunities do you get to meet someone interesting on an elevator?

when i first started working here- taking the elevator up in the mornings, i met 2 interns working on the floor above me. for some reason, i was always on their elevator. they were friends. both went to Wisconsin, and of course- i gave them shit for it.

i always looked forward to those 30 second elevator rides with them. they were pretty great. they had their whole senior year to look forward too and all i could do was be happy for them. they were having fun, working hard- and first thing in the morning- they were willing to meet people in the elevator.

i hope that i run into them again this summer.

there are some people that ive only seen once. but that one encounter will always stick with me.

leaving work i met the most nervous looking man i had ever seen. sweat dripping on the side of his face, pale and jittery. "finally its the weekend," i told him. he looked at me and immediately said, "im proposing to my girlfriend in 2 hours. shit im an adult..."

(great realization)

"that's amazing, how long have you been together?"

"3 months"

in my head i thought..kill me right- 3 months and your making that commitment? but i stopped myself. this guy was making a huge decision and the expression i saw on his face only made me realize- hes about to make his girlfriend the most happiest person in the world tonight, and i was witnessing what happens 2 hours before the one moment you decide to be with someone forever.

leaving work that day, i knew that guy was going to be happy. i don't know why.

striking up conversations in elevators has been a good eye opener. it gives you the opportunity to be on someone elses level- even if it's only 30 seconds to a minute.

the woman who got off on the 12th floor- she got to work an hour earlier than usual on a friday because she wanted to watch her nephew play soccer in the burbs.

the creepy guy my dad works with- ive watched him hit on 3 separate women in the same elevator at the same time.

the guy who's dog takes a shit on the sidewalk in front of the elevator by the parking garage- yeah- he still has no idea how to warn you that his dog has taken a shit and you should not walk there.

the "im going to try to impress my boss" elevator situation...well, usually they just look like their happy you talked to him.

and there's nothing better than the one person in the elevator that knows you have had a long day-and says something you want to hear.

"tomorrows a new day"

ive got 16 floors, and 30 seconds to meet someone new. why shouldn't i talk to them? if your nice to them, well- maybe you wont get assaulted in the elevator, but maybe you'll meet someone that changes your perspective on something.

now that is worth it.

10/1: it is what it is

what to say when there's nothing else to say?

well, basically you found yourself in a hole i would think?

ive become a pro at not knowing what to say when there's nothing to say.

im sure you have the same experiences...just standing there and having your mind go blank. "shit, what do i say?" yeah- everyone gets that.

if it happens a lot more than you like...thennn welcome to my world.

things of this matter can really only go one of two ways. A- everything goes awesome, just the way you want it. or B- you dig yourself in a bigger hole.

being the master of both A and B, you want everything to go the way you want it to go- but at a cost, you'll probably dig yourself in a hole.

sometimes you can literally say everything you want to say in the exact moment you want to say it- and when im mean literally- im not even kidding. you've said it all. you've made it clear exactly what is going on in your head- everything just out there in the open for someone else to take in.

when you do that for the first time, it feels right. (aaaa- a little scary? fuck yeah. you've basically put all your cards on the table...now- whats their reaction?)

confused? okay...here's a scenario:

put yourself in position A (everything goes awesome, just the way you want it)

A for AWESOME, AMAZING, and ASTONISHING...then you get something like this...

"it is what it is."

most vague statement ever? yep.

now what do you say?

well, what can you say? at this point your walking down the stairs and a sign says- welcome to the hole. position B straight ahead.

STOP and TURN AROUND. now- just forget about position B- it is now nonexistent. com'on- there are no holes in something great! why should there be?

at least the hole is something that has left my mind. at this point, who cares about the hole? im going A all the way. at the end of the day, your going to do what you want. and you should. how are you ever going to find what makes you happy if you dont do that?

i like to think that if all you focus on is the bittersweet reality of having something great surrounded by something other people think is wrong- it will just take the happiness out of whatever you want to accomplish for yourself.

and not knowing what to say, sometimes that's a start. at least you want to say something more...maybe you just don't know what it is yet.

if "it is what it is" has been stricken on your conscience...

well, at least your confident in what you want and you've made it clear to the person you want to hear it. your in position A and your going to stay there, no matter how hard it is. at least you know your not letting the hole be the #1 factor of something that in the long run will not matter.

if my positivity on this scenario kills you- well, its killing me too. 

it is what it is, and yet...its not- that's it.