They say love is a many splendored thing.

I'm not so sure it is.

I think its just one thing.

It is what it is.

The Reason

Some nights I just don't want to go to sleep. I can't really explain why. I don't know if this is a part of my insomnia or if this is the cause of it all. Its 3am and my alarm is going off in 4 hours, but here I am. Sitting at my computer. Typing away. I'm not really sure why, either. Even as I write that, though, I know its not true. Not completely true, anyway. I do know a part of the reason that I don't want to go to bed. Its that I don't want to go to an empty bed. I almost feel like I'm drunk. My body is roughly one thousand degrees. I'm on the verge of breaking a sweat even though the thermostat is set for 74. I can barely keep my eyes open, yet as they drift shut, the snap back as if they had springs. My muscles hurt. My arms, my legs, my neck, my back. Everything feels tight. I have to think about breathing. All this, and I know that I could end it all in an instant. Within a minute of my head hitting the pillow, I know I will be asleep. There is the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me. I can feel it. Its familiar. That feeling. Its a part of who I am. We chose each other. 2B or not 2B, that is the question. whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to rise against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them; to die to sleep no more; and by a sleep, to say we end the heart ache, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep, to sleep, perchance to dream, aye, there's the rub, for in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause. to sleep, perchance to dream. that is the rub indeed. not that i have night terrors or anything like that. i don't remember all that many of my dreams. really i don't. so its not like i fear them or anything. i'm not scared to dream. not exactly. Most of the dreams I remember are similar, though. Related. Familiar. Its like my mind has created this angsty utopia where I have everything that I want, but the whole time I am in this dream I know its not real. I can tell something just isn't quite right. So I have these things; I am living this life, a perfect life, but I don't enjoy it because I know that in a few minutes its all going to fade away. So I choose not to dream. I'd rather not have my tainted perfection. I'd rather have this life. My life. As imperfect as it is.

Two Things

When you boil it all down to the nitty gritty, there are really just two reasons that I am the way that I am.  God and my sister.

I was always close with my sister.  When I was a wee lad, I was her annoying little brother.  I used to follow her around and always wanted to do whatever it was she was doing.  I looked up to her.

As I got older I began to see her as a person, not just a big sister.  I saw that she had faults. She had flaws.  But she was also smart.  And I know the reason behind a lot of what she did.

Throughout all of my childhood, though, she was my one constant.  She was the one who taught me what it meant to be strong.  To be brave.  She also taught me how to be kind and how to listen.

Up until very recently, I'm not sure she knew how much I give her credit for the man that I have become.  She did good.

The other Person I gave credit to was God.  This is where it getsasdf a asasdfdflittle asfbit tricky.  Ever since I was eight years old and given the choice whether or noasdfasdfasdfasdt I wantedsadf  sdaf to practice organized religion I have chosen not to.  I have thought about this tasdfasdfasdfasdfopic a lot over the years and each time I have come to the same conclusion.  Organized religion is too confining.  There are so many laws and rules that all stem from a book that is some 2,000 years old.

The world has changed in 2,000 years.  Quite a bit, in fact.  The confines of religion have not, though.  The idea of God has been used as a weapon against both change as well as things that aren't understood for centuries.  Frankly, I don't really forsee that changing at any time in the near future, either.

So what do I believe in?

Well, ever since high school my stock answer has been "Myself.  I believe that I am a good person and, if I want to live in a world that I find bearable, I ought to treat other people in a way that I want to be treated in the hopes that they reciprocate."  (There are two things I took away from Hebrew school growing up. 1. The Golden Rule, 2. Don't walk in front of me because I may not follow, don't walk behind me because I may not lead, just walk beside me and be my friend.)

I felt that no supreme being coud have made a world like the one we live in.  No God could have taken my mother from me.  No God could be ok with that.  I just could not believe that.

Recently, though, I have been doing a lot of thinking.  I started thinking back to a time in high school when Iused to go to youth services at a baptist church with one of my friends.  One of the minister's sermons (the only only Iremember, actually) was about how God is Love.

Love is inside all of us.  It connects us with our family and our friends.  Since it is a common trait, it is also something that connects us to strangers as well.  You know, since God is Love and all.  He is inside each of us, connecting us, giving us a reason to be kind, to have mercy and pity.  To be human.

Thinking about it now, though, I'm starting to think that maybe when I've said that the only God I believe in is myself, well, maybe that is the same God that is in everyone else.  I still have no faith in organized religion (please forgive the pun) but its interesting to think about myself believing in any God at all.

Anyways.  Its late and I'm tired, so I think its time I call it a night.  You folks have yourselves a very pleasant evening and remember the Golden Rule!

There's a Lifetime Ahead of Us

There's a lifetime ahead of us
But the wait is overrated
Every day should just be hated
Can't we all just be sudated?

...

I can't tell you how hard it is for me to just NOT text her. Seriously. I really want to. I want to hang out with her. I want to see her. I really do. There's just something about her that makes me want her. Its true.

<< THIS PART HAS BEEN EDITED FOR CONTENT >>
...

I like music.

A Lot.

Like, a lot a lot. I never used to. When I was a kid, growing up, I never listened to music at all. Not until, like, 8th grade. My buddy Scott listening to music all the freakin' time. I used to go to his house to play basketball on a nearly daily basis and he used to pull his boombox out in the driveway as we'd play. It started with Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men. Then it moved to Coolio and Snoop.
College, though, came with a different group of friends. Its then that I really started listening to Korn and Metallica. It's then that I first really listened to TOOL. That was really my thing for a long time. Mainstream and alternative rock. I liked it loud and aggresive.
Right before my divorce, though, my musical tastes started mellowing out a bit. My X introduced me to Keane and I thought, 'This isn't too bad.' And then I discovered The Decemberists. Through the divorce I became Emo. I mean, I was in my mid 20's while most other emo kids were, like, 12. But still. That really started my decent into Indie.
Now I listen to shit most people haven't heard of. I don't mind twangy guitar. I listen to bands like The Xx's or M83. My current favorite is Two Door Cinema Club.
For most of the last 20 years I have had music playing in the background. I've never thought about creating a soundtrack to my life, so this is just a rough guestimate of what I think it should be, but here goes a quick one:

Middle School (92-93)- Boyz II Men - Its So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday
High School (94-97)- Coolio - Gangsta's Paradise
College (early years 97-98) - Korn - A.D.I.D.A.S.
College (middle years 98-99) - Chubbuwumba - I Get Knocked Down
College (later years 00-02) - Verticle Horizon - Everything You Want
Divorce (05-06) - She Wants Revenge - Tear You Apart
Tampa (07-09) - Plain White T's - Hey There Deliliah
Alabama (10) - Far East Movement - Like a G6
Cali (11) - Foster The People - Pumped Up Kicks
Cali (12) - Two Door Cinema Club - What You Know

The songs were picked based on what was going on in my life, what I was listening to and what I remember.

After that little excersize I realize something.... I really have to pee.

Peace out, Broseph Leiberman.

Without Words

I will tell you anything you want

All you have to do is ask

I new it would come back to you

This whole time

I wasn't sure if it was what I wanted

But there you were

right before my eyes

I can't tell you what you want

But you want to be alone

And I don't want to be alone

Maybe next year

We'll be on the same page

But maybe next year

We'll both be gone

I can't tell you who you are

But I do know what you are

to me

I can't tell you who you are

But I can tell you that you're not alone

...

Last time we were together you whispered something to me that I can't forget.

You thought you were being sneaky, whispering in my bad ear... but you whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

I smile now, just thinking about it.

...

I haven't written anything in a long time and I'm not really sure I know why that is. Actually... I might know why that is.

In fact.

Fuck it.

I know EXACTLY why I haven't been writing... I'm missing my inspiration. I was close. So close. I could feel her next to me... but when I turned towards her, she was gone. Poof! Like magic!

I was left with smoke and mirrors and empty words at my fingertips

What used to flow became a trickle.

... And just like that, the well has run dry. I must have typed a dozen sentences and deleted them all. None seemed to say what I wanted them to say.

I'll leave you with this, though: Let's you and me hope that I find my inspiration soon. I'm not sure I can take many more nights without the will/desire/want/need/whatever to write.

Good night, San Diego.. and Good night, world. This is Dave, signing off.

Peace out. and remember. eat those vegetables!

Bacon Wrapped Crab Stuffed Shrimp with Lemon Cream Sauce

Stuff You'll Need:

For the Shrimp:

1 lb Crab Meat

1/2 tube thingie of Ritz Crackers, crumbled

3 scallions, finely chopped

1/2 Red Bell Pepper, finely chopped

1/4 Cup Mayonnaise

1 Egg, beaten

1 Teaspoon Worchestsershire Sauce

1 Teaspoon Garlic Powder

1 Teaspoon Dry Mustard

1/4 Teaspoon Garlic Powder

Salt

16 Large Shrimp, peeled. When I say large, get 'em as big as you can find 'em!

16 slices of Bacon

** Note, to simplify the recipe, you can purchase pre-made crab cakes, mash 'em up and use that to stuff the shrimp. That's what I did, because I'm lazy. I've included directions to make the crab stuffing just in case you're not as lazy as I am, though.

For the sauce:

1 Tablespoon Olive Oil

2 Tablesppons Butter

1 Teaspoon Minced Onion

1 Teaspoon Minced Fresh Garlic

1/4 Cup Dry White Wine

1 Cup Heavy Cream

3 Tablespoons Pesto

1/2 Lemon, Juiced

Directions:

If you decided to make the stuffing instead of buying crab cakes, props to you! Combine the crab, crackers, scallions, pepper, mayo, egg, worchestershire sauce, mustard and garlic. Season it with however much salt and pepper you like. Now go ahead and put that aside for now.

Slice the shrimp down the backs and remove the veins. Its disgusting and gross, but it must be done. Make sure you slice deep enough. Now spoon that stuffing you set aside earlier into the shrimp. Wrap each stuffed shrimp with bacon and arrange them in a large baking dish.

Now, I'm paranoid about undercooking bacon, so I actually pre-cooked the bacon a little bit first. I cooked each strip of bacon for 30 seconds on each side first. Also, depending on how large the shrimp you got were, you might be able to get away with only using half a strip of bacon to wrap each shrimp.

Oh yeah, by the way, you were supposed to preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Since the oven is warm, throw the shrimp into the oven for 10 minutes. Flip the shrimp and cook for about 5-10 minutes more, until the shrimp are opaque.

After you've started cooking the shrimp, you can start making the Lemon Cream Sauce. Heat the oil and butter in a small skillet. Add the onions and garlic. Cook that until the mixture is nice and golden. Stir frequently. That should be about 5-7 minutes. It should smell delicious. If not, you're doing something wrong, but its too late to go back now, so... good luck. Add the wine and simmer for 5 more minutes, then add the cream. Simmer until the sauce is reduced by half. Add the lemon juice and pesto.

* More Notes: I served these over a bed of linguini and it was amazing. My roommate and I each had half a dozen shrimp over the pasta. Don't get me wrong, it was amazingly delicious, but incredibly rich. Next time I make this, I'm only going to serve 4 shrimp per person. These would also be pretty awesome served as an appetizer with the Lemon Sauce served on the side and used for dipping.

Oh, one more thing! When I first made this, I thought the sauce wouldn't be lemon-y enough using only half a lemon, so I used a whole one. Bad idea. Stick with half a lemon. Trust me.

Enjoy!

Lasagna

Stuff:

sauce:
1 cans tomato sauce
1 can tomato paste
1 can diced tomato
1/2 lb ground beef
2 dried bay leaves
handfull of fresh oregano, parsley, whatever herbs you thing would rock your tongue
1 lb spicy italian sausage (not in casing)
Some garlic, preferably fresh
1/2 white onion
some olive oil
bunch of mushrooms. I recommend portabello. I also recommend sauteeing 'shrooms in red wine. Not a must, but its nice.
sugar

pasta:
1 thingie of lasagna noodles.

Cheese:
1 lb shredded mozzerella
large container of ricotta cheese, I don't remember the size. I always think I buy the wrong one, but it always ends up working out
1 egg
more fresh parsley, if you've got it

What to do with the stuff:

sauce: finely chop the herbs. chop the onion relatively fine. chop the shrooms. chop the garlic. Unload the contents of all the cans into a large pot and mix that shit up nice and good. Turn the burner on low, just because. If you're going to sautee the shrooms in the wine, do that now. Put all the chopped shrooms into a pan with a wee bit of olive oil. Then pour in enough red wine to cover the bottom of the pan. Then pour in a little more. Then pour yourself a glass, cooking should be fun! Cook the shroom until about 2/3 of the wine is gone. From the pan, not your glass. If you finish your glass, just refill. Once the wine is mostly cooked off from the shrooms, they should be done. Throw that whole mess into the pot with the tomato stuff and stir. Now throw a little more olive oil into the pan and chuck in the garlic. Let that do its thing for about 5 minutes, then throw in the onions. Now let that do its thing for another 5 minutes or so. We're looking to carmelize those onions, so, yeah. When they look good, throw 'em in the pot! Now brown the beef and the sausage and throw those into the pot. Next add whatever herbs you want as well as the bay leaves. Stir. Let that amazingness simmer for, like, 4 hours.

That's right. 4 hours. You can let it simmer for less time, but the longer you let it go, the better it will be. Trust me.

After about an hour or so, you'll want to taste the sauce. Soemtimes it can be very acidic. If so, add some sugar to taste.

Cheese: Mix the ricotta, egg and parsley together. That's it.

Pasta: Sometime while the sauce is cooking, I pre-cook the lasagna noodles a little bit. Not a lot, just enough to make 'em flexible. they'll cook all the way while its in the oven.

Construction:

Cover the bottom of a glass pyrex dish with a little bit of sauce, then layer noodles, meatsauce, ricotta, mozzerella. Then do it again. Noodles, sauce, ricotta, mozzerella. That should finish off the ricotta. If not, you didn't do it right. Throw on your last layer of noodles. If you have any ricotta left, use it now. Then the rest of your sauce, then a thin layer of mozerella. I usually have sauce left over. It's delicious. Make sloppy joes or something. Oh, btw, you should have preheated your oven to, like, 350 or so. Now that your oven is preheated, cook the lasagna for about 20-30 minutes or so. Remember how I told you to put a thin layer of mozerella on the top? The reason you did a thin layer before is because now you're going to load it on. That's right. Load that thing up with cheese! Now throw it back in the oven for another 10 minutes! I usually crank the oven up to 500 for those last few minutes so that top layer of cheese gets nice and crisp.

Now, here's the part I never think to do because, at this point, you're starving, tipsy and it just smells sooooo good. Let the thing sit for about 5-10 minutes. If you don't, it'll serve a sloppy mess. If you let it sit, though, it'll hold much better when you serve it and actually look like a lasagna.

Enjoy!

I can love deeply, move mountains, and bring the star down for you from the sky, yet have a hard time expressing my feelings and seem like I'm hiding behind a wall
...
its funny how strange things seem somehow even more strange when you think about them at 2 in the morning
...
there's something out there, in the cold night, that's constantly pulling at me; trying to draw me out, but to where I do not know
...
head first
head strong
head on
just so long as we're moving on
One foot
in front of the other
...
I'm totally baffled by the opposite sex.
Not sure if you guys have noticed that from all of my ramblings, but its true.
Most times this is ok because... well... its the norm. I'm used to it. What kills me, though, is when I THINK I know what's going on and it turns out I am 100% wrong.
one hundred
percent
wrong.

Seriously. I think this should be a class in high school. Understanding the Opposite Sex. My goodness... talk about an essential life skill. I'd put it right up there with Economics. At the very least make it a section of Health class. You could put it just between the pregnancy stuff and the std stuff that way its surrounded by scariness so, hopefully, the kids won't start practicing too early.

Necessary life skill, though. Unfortunately Understanding the Opposite Sex is not a skill I have.

...

For so many years Racquetball was my outlet. My way to let out steam. Being trapped in that box just wailing on that little blue ball. Running. Crashing. Diving. All the while hitting that racquetball as hard as I could. It was good for me. All my pent up... well... pent up everything could be left on that court in a mixture of sweat and blood. I could leave the court completely drained of everything. I'd go home, shower, and emerge a fresh man in every way you can think of.

dashboard confessions

I'm not sure I've ever done this before.
In fact... I'm downright positive that I haven't.

I'm blogging with someone else in the room.

Its weird.

I feel like I'm being an exhibitionist. Like I'm letting someone see the most private part of me that there is.

I know that's silly. Everything I write I put out in the most public place there is for all the world to see. I don't really edit before I publish anything. I just write it and post it. 99% unfiltered. So why does it feel like I'm so exposed right now?

I guess its just the process.

No one's seen me write before.

Well....

I guess that still holds true.

My roommate is passed out in the recliner next to me. We were watching Stranger Than Fiction. And by "we were watching" what I really mean is that I watched it while he fell asleep 2 minutes in. He's been sleeping ever since.

I like that movie. Stranger Than Fiction. I like it a lot. It makes me wonder about how I write and what I write and what affect my writing has on the world.

It makes me wonder what I would write if I knew that everything I typed turned out to be true in someone stranger's life.

It also makes me wonder how my story is going to go. Comedy or tragedy? I realize that story hasn't been written yet, but everything I say, everything I do adds a sentence or a page or a chapter to that story. Where does it all lead?

It also makes me wonder what it would look like to go back and read all the pages that have passed. Once again, Comedy or tragedy? Some days its hard to tell which it is. Taken in its entirety, though, how does My Story read?

...

And on a completely different note....

I kind of want to tell you the story of a girl.

Actually, scratch that.

I really want to tell you.

The problem is that I still don't know how that one is going to go.

Well...

((for those of you not In The Know, that's how I start to say a majority of my goodbye's in on line conversations. I'll say something "the problem is that I still don't know how that one is going to go" and then I'll go "Well..." and then usually finish it off with "its time for me to hit the sack" or "its time for me to pass out" or "I'm sleep-E." Tonight, though, I think I"m going to go old school.))

Peace out and eat your vegetables, peeps!

Repeat: Female Vocalist

I was thinking about this earlier today... How hot would it hot would it be to date a singer? She wouldn't have to be famous or even a performer, really. Those would just be bonuses. Watching her sing a song on stage and knowing she was singing ti to me... That would be so hot.

But even if she weren't a performer and she just had a solid singing voice and enjoyed doing it... mmmm... She would inspire me to write, and my writing would inspire her to sing. We'd be like Sonny and Cher, except not as cheesy. And I wouldn't sing. Well... Ok... Lets be honest here. I'd still be cheesy, but she wouldn't have to be.

She'd sing me a song and I'd say the white guy equivilant of "Damn girl, you fine!" which would probably be something like, "my goodness, young female, you look quite nice this fine, summer evening." But whatever came out, it would be the right thing to say.

Cold Rain

I could hear it raining outside. The drops steadily beating against the window. I can barely tell if my eyes were open or closed. The darkness was like another person, lying there with me. I could feel it pressing against up against me, wrapping her cold arms around me, slowly drawing me in. But then I felt something else. Warmth. An arm resting across my chest. Hot breath on my shoulder. Its not like I had forgotten you were there, I just thought it had all been a dream.

I was smiling. I thought it had been a dream, but there you were. I took your hand to my lips and gave each of your fingertips a small kiss. You moved your body closer to mine, still sound asleep. I could feel you purring softly up against me and, slowly, I fell back asleep.

...

Trust me.
I know.
Sometimes I can be a bit... much.
I know this.
100%.
I like to think its part of my charm. My neuroses. Whatever you want to call it.
Its who I am.
This is also something I can't really change.
I can reign it in a little... but really, I don't want to.
I think its fun.
To be head-over-heels in love?
Yeah... that's the bee's knees, my friends.
I look forward to that.
To be all in.
That's my jam.
yeah....

Here's the thing, though.
Actually.
Nevermind.
...reigning it in.

Bandito Loco

Pumpkin: [Standing up with a gun] All right, everybody be cool, this is a robbery!



Honey Bunny: Any of you fucking pricks move, and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of ya!

Motive: I need a little extra cash for the move across country. Not a lot... but a little.

The Research: Did some light reading on The Geezer Bandit currently making his rounds across SoCal. That lead me to look into capture rates and average hauls as well as specific training bank employees have around robberies. I also read lots of stories about people getting caught--I mean, the best way to learn how to succeed is by learning how to fail, right? And since, in this case, failing leads to jail, I can't really afford to fail my self, so I'll have to learn by reading how others have failed before me. I also read several success stories. Most of those successes shared one commonality: They were one-time events, not attempts at a crime spree, in which the robber moved quickly and quietly and then disappeared.

The Plan:

1. Purchase a microwave and several car batteries in the backseat of my car (to be used later).

2. Tape up my rear window as well as a passenger window. Also cover the roof of my car. This will allow me to change the appearance of my vehicle quickly as well as cover identifiable marks (gator head in my rear window)

3. Dress appropriately. Hoodie, wig, fake facial hair, fake other-identifiable-mark-like-a-tatoo.

4. Rob bank. Calmly approach teller, hand them a note politely requesting $20,000. Whisper "Give me the money or I. Will. Murder. You." The key is to do it calmly and quietly while aslo emphasizing those last four words. Saying, "give me all the money or I'll kill you" is too trite--too hollywood. Saying "I will murder you" is much more intense and violent. Think about it. Once the money is in the bag, just calmly walk out the door.

5. This is where the microwave comes into play. There are banks out there that put tracking devices as well as dye in with the money. By throwing the bag into the microwave for a few minutes all electronic devices should fry, thus eliminating the tracking devices. I have no clue if this would disable the dye, but if it did, bonus! if not... well, i was getting screwed there anyways, right?

6. Leave the scene. Drive away calmly and pull into the nearest parking garage/apartment complex/generic location as possible to remove the window coverings from the car. Also take the money out of the microwave and search it for trackers/dye/etc. Ditch those devices if necessary.

7. Don't rob another bank. End my life of crime. The best way to not get caught robbing a bank is simply to Not Rob A Bank. The second best way not to get caught is to Not Rob Another Bank. I'm not doing this to become a career criminal after all... this is just a one time thing to supliment my income for my move. I figure I'll do it in a state where I have no ties. Louisiana or something. Somewhere I won't go back to anytime in the forseeable future. Certainly not somewhere I live or plan on living.

...

Disclaimer: I have never nor do I plan on ever robbing a bank. This has been a complete work of fiction. If you are reading this and thinking, "hmmm... I wonder if this guy is the bank robber we're looking for..." I urge you to read the rest of my blog for two reasons. 1: you might enjoy it. 2: you would realize that I am smart enough not to post a plan of a bank robbery I was about to commit on the internet and then to Facebook. Unless this extreme disclosure of my plans is just a clever ploy to throw you off my trail! After all, who in their right minds would post their bank robbery plans on Facebook! no one! this COULDN'T possibly be the guy!!

Confidence Game

I've learned a lot about myself over the last few weeks.

Normally I am very self conscious. I am. Its true. I'm an incredibly shy person who, most times, doesn't think much of himself.

I know it doesn't seem like it most of the time and I certainly know that is NOT how I should think... but it is.

The reason I end up being so social is because I like to push myself. I enjoy doing things that scare the crap out of me. I mean, I'm scare shitless doing it... but... I do it because I know I shouldn't be scared.

Does any of that make sense?

Its like heights. I'm afraid of heights yet, a few years ago, walked to the edge of a cliff. Fear gripped my heart and I was drenched in sweat, but I did it anyway because I knew there was nothing I should be afraid of. Same thing at work. I'll take the lift 20 feet into the air to pull down a TV even though I'm so scared that I can't move my feet once I'm off the ground. I'm afraid, but I shouldn't be, so I do it anyway.

woah

where was I going with this?

Oh yeah... confidence.

I don't usually have it.

I might talk big game sometimes, but that's all it is.... talk.

There are some things that bring out extreme confidence in me, though.

Two things.

Racquetball and Spades.

I wish the two things were, like, talking to women and job interviews... but no.

Racuqetball and Spades.

This weekend we played a game of Spades and, even though my team was losing at the time, I was sure we were going to win. There was no doubt in my mind, even as the other team was doubling us in points, that my team would win. That I would win. Everyone in the room knew it, too. Trust me, I let them know. I talked non-stop for about an hour.... just spewing shit because I knew that no matter what the current situation was, I would win.

I did win, by the way. My team did, anyways. I couldn't have done it without the hard work of The Team.

I had such confidence that it was gushing out of me. It was a good time.

I just wish I could be like that all the time.

There's really no reason that I can't be. I mean, its obviously in me... I'm just scared when I'm not in my element.

That's something I should work on.

I've been saying that my whole life... but this time its different.

New beginings and all that jazz.

Wish me luck!

Click... Click... Boom!

As per your request, here's the story of how I almost got shot in the head.

Let me start this off with the question in the survey: Have you ever almost died? My answer was something along the lines of "yes, I was almost shot in the head once" or something like that...

Now, for those of you who did not grow up as little boys, I can tell you that I have almost died hundreds of times. Seriously. If you were to review the highlights of just Dave On A Bike throughout the years, you'd see me hit by 2 cars (the first left me sprawled on the car's hood when I was about 9, the second left me on the side of a road a bit dazed for a few minutes as the driver drove on as if it never happened.) I almost drowned while attending Summer Camp at the local YMCA when I was 6. I mean, really... from the ages of 8 to about 12 we had neighborhood Stick Wars where we used to fight eachother with tree branches.

Death is not something most young boys consider when they dart in and out of traffic on their way to the comic book store... it just isn't. But I digress...

This is to be the tale of my near demise.

Picture this: Cicily, 1946.. your aunt Lisa and I... er, wait, wrong story... Make that Cape Coral, 1991. I'm 11 years old and my friend Nicky and I are walking across town one Saturday afternoon to grab some lunch at McDonalds. This was not a new thing to us... we did it all the time. The two mile walk was always an adventure. We'd stop in as many stores as we could on the way. Tasting as many free samples in the grocery stores as we could. Once the people serving those tasty little morsels started refusing service, we'd grab a cart and race around the store until we were kicked out, then move to the next retailer. But one Saturday we got sidetracked.

Not too far from our neighborhood Nicky spotted something in the gutter. A smile broke across his face as he realized what it was. A revolver. Badass. Or at least the 11-year-old's version of Badass (probably just "Cool" or something of that ilk.) It was loaded, too. Way cool. Thoughts of food immediately were left behind as we took our new treasure back to our Tree Fort.

Once secure in our hide-out Nicky aimed the gun at a random piece of wood that was waiting to find a use in the fort and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He did it again.

Nothing happened.

A bit dissapointed, he relinquished the gun to me. It was suprisingly heavy for being so small. I remember that. I knew it wasn't plastic, but still... it had more wieght than I though it would have. I pulled the trigger while I aimed at imaginary glass bottles. My aim was true as evidenced by the glass-shattering sound Nicky made every time the hammer clicked dully on the dud rounds in the chamber.

Nicky's turn. Only this time he pointed the gun at me.

I wanted none of that, and told him so. My mama didn't raise a Complete fool. A fool yes, but not a complete one.

Nicky laughed it off and pretended to shoot me in the head a few times. Click... click... click... I started to walk away. I was not playing anymore. He just laughed it off saying that the gun was broken, nothing would happen. Click.. .click.. click... I told him I was still leaving, I didn't like him doing that. He aims the gun at his mailbox saying that I was just being a baby. Click.. boom.

The front of his mailbox blew open as the round tore right through it. We both screamed and ran. I went to my house, Nicky to his. After a few minutes my phone rang. It was Nicky telling me to get over to his house, so I did. We told his mom we found the gun, but not that we tried to use it. The police were called and they sent someone to pick up the weapon. I made Nicky give me a Nintendo game to square the fact that he almost shot me.
...
So there you go, folks. I was one trigger pull away from dying before I ever made it to high school.

My feet are cold, but I'm thinking of you.

So here's what I'm thinking...
you and me.
lets run away together.
it doesn't matter where we go
but wherever it is
we can be together.
life doesn't have to be hard
it doesn't have to be complicated.
if i could have anything in the world right now
it would be you.
if i were living a dream
that dream would be with you.
i'm not sure you realize this,
but every time i hear your voice
my heart melts
and ever time i see your face
i lose any thought i may have had.
you are a precious treasure.
...
its true.
i don't make shit like that up.

Lets watch a movie together

Watching Romeo+Juliet. These are my random thoughts throughout the movie.

I'm 27 minutes in, so you don't get the first few thousand, but you'll get the rest.

Claire Danes is amazingly gorgeous. Paul Rudd is a tool. In this movie. He's awesome otherwise.... in this movie, though, not a fan.

I think this movie made me really love love. It was all a combination of Bill's words and Claire Danes being hawt and sweet and innocent and how young i was when I watched it.... All those things... and more, I'm sure.

Did my heart love 'til now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty 'til this night.

Right now things are... complicated. To say the least. You all know how I am... and right now... I just don't know what I want. I mean. I do. But I don't. I wish I did. I really do wish I did.

The problem is... I know exactly what I want. I just know that i shouldn't want what I want and I should be happy with what I have.... but....

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and she is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

and oh... she is fair. she is everything i could ever want. at least she is from what i can see. ay, that is the rub. for right now I can only see so much. a whole world could be hidden from me. i have a suspicion, though... i have this horrible, sneaking suspician that in this i am not wrong. i am so often wrong in such things i just.... i want. i need. i dream.

Oh, will you leave me so unsatisfied?

What satisfaction can you have tonight?

The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine

I am officially 48 minutes in to the movie and I'm already tired of typing.

21 minutes of rambling while I watch.

I certainly don't remember a boy's choir singing Prince. Did that just happen?

Oh, wait. It must have. There's Michael from LOST again. The whole world is upside down. At least he's not wearing a dress this time.

The soundtrack! The hits just keep coming... that's right Everclear!

Oh shit.

Lovefool.

I think this movie is why I liked that song.

mmmm... Claire Danes.... She was my Zooey.

Right now, Zooey is my Zooey, though.

mmm.... Zooey.

Quirky makes me happy. That's come up in conversation a bunch of times lately... There's a fine line betwixt quirky and downright crazy. I have this tendency to allow that line to blurrrrrr in my mind, though. distracted by... I'm not sure, really. The want for something new, I suppose. The want for wanting. The need for needing.

Two random side notes: I'm in a hungry phase. Can't stop eating. Mmmmm... fooooood! To try and weather this storm in a slightly more healthy way than usual I have purchased a dozen yogurts, two boxes of cheery-Ohs and tomorrow I will purchase a dozen bagels, a loaf of bread and a pound or two of roasted turkey breast.

That was side note number one. The second thing that I wanted to mention was that it is now 2:46 in the A.M. and I just watched Romeo slay Tybalt. While I did thusly yawn, my eyes are still wide open. Sleep has been bansh'd and banishment is a fate worse than death for I cannot live out of fair Verona's walls.

Get Thee To A Nunery!

I realize that quote is not from this play... but... I think it whenever I think of Shakespear.

Well, that and "I Bite My Thumb At Thee" ... but that one is for a different reason. I remember when we were reading this play in high school... English, freshman year. I can't really tell you how it started but it did... This one girl, Kate and I used to bite our thumbs at each other. Every once in a while when we'd see each other, one of would just bite our thumbs and cry out, "I bite my thumb at thee!"

Shit's getting serious here. Juliet has to marry paul rudd. A worse fate their could not be. She said she'd rather die than marry paul rudd. paul rudd has no clue he's hated.

The plan is in place. She will be dead, but not. Four and Twenty hours she will lie in a state no better than death. But she will rise. And when she does she will find her Romeo by her side. This all shall be true, but not as she her guide has so planned.

He really should have just used BBM to msg Romeo.... at least then he would have known that his message never made it. Just sayin'.

There is inherent pain in love. If there is no pain, there is no love, for to be that vulnerable... there is no chance that a stray arrow will strike at thee. While it might not strike you down, it will most certainly bring you to your knees.

what light through yonder window breaks, 'tis the east and you... you are exactly what you are and I am exactly what I am.

And on that note I will watch Romeo drink his drink and I will watch Juliet take death from his lips

and knowing who i am

I will lean back and close my eyes

and dream

of stealing sleep

from her sweet kiss.

My Next Life

This is totally stollen from Woody Allen via Reddit, but I liked it, so I'm posting it for you guys to enjoy:

In my next life I want to live backwards.
You start out dead and get that out of the way.

Then you wake up in an old people's home feeling better every day.

You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work you get a gold watch and a party on your first day.

You work for 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement.

You party, drink alcohol and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school.

You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no responsibilities, you become a baby until you are born. And then you spend your last 9 months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, more room every day and then, BAM!

You finish off as an orgasm.

A Brand New Day

I've only seriously prayed to god for one thing in my entire life.

I prayed for that one, single thing every day for a long, long time.

Some nights I wonder what life would be like if that one prayer was answered. Where would I be? Who would I be?

I wonder what the lives of everyone I've touched would be like. How they might be better or how they might be worse.

Its all very Its-A-Wonderful-Life-y

And its all very pointless. I know that. Trust me, I do.

It makes me wonder, though, about all those people out there who continue to pray... have any of theirs been answered?

I would have to imagine that some of them have. I mean, even its by dumb luck, I'm positive that some people have prayed for something to happen and then had that thing happen.

Its not that I think that I'm not doing it right and they are.

I'm fairly close to positive that it doesn't matter how you do it or where you do it or who you even do it to (wow, that sounded kind of dirty, didn't it?)

Maybe all that matters is that you do it.

The power of positive thinking.

If you can dream it, you can be it.

Maybe praying for something is just a way for us to envision ourselves doing something or being something and by actually seeing that state of being we are better able to make the right decisions to get ourselves there.

So here it is. My first prayer in about 20 years.

Hello up there. Its me. Dave. I haven't done this in a really long time so I'll be the first to admit that I'm not really sure how this all goes. I figure I should start with small miracles before moving on to the big ones. Before I ask for anything, though, I just want to say thanks for all that I do have. I want to thank you for my family and my friends. I want to thank you for my pretty decent health, I don't have too many complaints there. I want to thank you for the creme bruele in my belly and the food in my fridge. I want to thank you for all the beauty that is in the world and in my life.
Ok, enough buttering you up. Here's my first request back in this prayer game. Please God, Lord, Allah, Yaweh, IDGAF or whatever it is you'd like to be called... Please let the sun rise in the morning. Like I said before, though, I figure we should keep this thing easy to start before we move on to the more serious stuff.

This is Dave, signing off.

ramblin' rose

Maybe the reason I haven't been sleeping well lately is because I haven't been writing. That's definitely a possibility. I have all these pent up words and they're fighting so hard to get out that my eyelids aren't strong enough to stay closed and keep them in... maybe.

...

So here's the deal. If I were to write our story out a million times it would go a million different ways, but each one would end the same way: with us growing old together.

...

I'm begining to need a cahnge again.
I need something
and I need it soon.

...

Have you ever seen the movie Yes Man? Well, I have... of course of I have... it has Zooey in it... Anyways... I think I'm going to do that on my next day off.

I'm just going to say Yes. Well, to anything within reason. If its possible for me to do it, I will. Or at least I'll try. I will Unleash The Power of Yes!

...

Girls poop.

When I was younger, I never thought about that. I mean guys talk about going to the bathroom. Some guys even show off what they've done to their younger brothers. And their younger brothers' friends. Guys go to "drop a duece," or "drop the kids off at the pool" or maybe they just go "read a magazine." Whatever you want to call it, we announce that we're doing it. Most girls don't do that.
It wasn't until I was older that I realized that girls fart. They poop. They do everything guys do, just more discretely.

I guess that's what it all boils down to, then, doesn't it? The fundamental difference between the sexes is that men are brought up to be proud of their bodies while women are taught to be ashamed of them.

...

This morning, my little cousin asked me what it was like to be in love. The kid is only 11, so I wasn't really sure how to describe the feeling to him in a way he would understand. So I told him it felt just like this... and then I smacked up upside the head.

mmmm.....

So let me start by saying that I have not been sleeping very well lately.

That has definitely affected my thinking.

Everything is skewed a little bit towards the extremes right now.

Right now, though

Right this very now

All I can think about is you.

I know that I've told you that you are amazing

And I'm pretty sure that you believe me.

You do.

I know you do.

Because you can't help but know its true.

I feel right now

Just like I did back then

Only more

So much more.

Its still a sort of puppy love

But that's just because thats how I love

Like a puppy.

With lots of tongue. :)p