i’ve wondered if it’s something merely “japanese” about it that makes me feel kind of zen, relaxed. i guess maybe there is some of that. maybe in a way it makes me remember when i was in japan and some of those feelings i had wandering around tokyo by myself for a few weeks. i guess there is some truth to that. a murakami story makes me feel simple in all the best ways. which is odd really because his stories are weird. they’re not simple. which is to say that when i’m reading them, it makes perfect sense but as soon as i try to explain it to someone i’m left saying something like, “no you see, the sheep isn’t a real sheep that he’s chasing. it’s a sheep that lives inside of people.” i then realize that what i’m saying isn’t simple, doesn’t “make sense.” however, when it’s just me and the pages, the feel of the paper, perhaps charles mingus playing softly, well then it all makes sense. something clicks, something fits. i guess i look at his works of fiction as something genius, which is my way of saying that i don’t understand what it is that makes his stores great, but believe them to be so regardless.

so, i’ve been reading a lot lately. been under a lot of stress. a lot going on. new work. lots of work. it’s been grey. cold. snow in april. a feeling of piling it on, really. so i’ve been reading a lot. when i’m not working, that is.

i got a few new books in the last two days. one if thoughts without a thinker. it’s sort of a buddhist/psychology book. i’m curious to see where it leads. the other, i’m more curious about. i heard about it on mpr a few weekends ago. it’s a story told through suicide notes. well, to be fair, suicide notes and one side of a transcript of an interview. i wasn’t expecting that last part and to be honest, i feel a little cheated. however, mostly i feel intrigued. who thinks to themselves, “hey, i think i’ll tell a story strictly through the medium of suicide notes.”? i mean, that’s crazy right? at the very least, it’s odd. and it’s something that intrigues me. someone recently told me that he thinks suicide is part of the cultural zeitgiest, or something along those lines. i had to ask him what he meant. i think i could sum it up by saying that he feels that the general culture is sort of obessessed but in a back of the mind sort of way.

anyway, i’ve been wondering why that is. i think part of it could be that as a country, we’re all a little scared. we feel the great machine winding down, or up, i’m not sure. but whichever way it’s going, we feel an end coming. something in our culture, our country has to change. more than ever, people are depressed. people work too hard and have nothing to show for it. we can’t even fall back on our families or friends in many cases (i feel rather lucky to have such a good support network). we’re left with nothing but our work. work that doesn’t satisfy. we’re left feeling empty and asking the question. always asking, what next?

or maybe a beginning. maybe we can turn it around. maybe it’s not too late. maybe we can find a way to slow ourselves down. to calm ourselves down. at the end of the day, i’m left feeling frenetic. that’s the word that’s been in my head lately. when i sit down and listen to a little mingus, read a little murakami, that feeling goes away for a time. it slides away. things in our world here seem so hard, everyone is fighting all the time to . . . . what? i’m not sure. but when i slow down, when i’m just reading or listening to a soft album in the background, i don’t feel like i’m fighting. i don’t feel like everything is a stuggle. i begin to see that the world can be . . . simple.

well simple is, just too simple i guess. it’s more a feeling of calm. there are subtleties. there are complexities. there are things that ebb and flow and move like tides in the moonlight. there are these things. but i guess with the right movement there is no need for the feeling of struggle. it’s possible to move with the tides. it’s possible to ebb and flow. it’s possible to simply feel calm.

but it’s hard. it’s a stuggle. or at least it seems that way.

until i find a way for it not to be.

for now, i think i’ll sit back with my book for the evening.

when we flew into town we were all pretty hungry. ever been to tuscon? this was my first trip and i can honestly say that i was not impressed with it. first off, we never really found the city of tuscon, though we did drive around for quite awhile. i think we were looking for something like an applebees or a steakhouse. i was keeping my eye open for a seedy diner or some sort. i have an affinity for seedy, dirty diners. finally, after forty five minutes or so of hungry driving we settled in on a lotta burger. we don’t have lotta burgers in minnesota but i can you that for fast food, it’s pretty darn good.

anyway, that’s not the memory. that’s just the set up. when we got back to the hotel, i stated immediately that i was going to find the hot tub. in my mind, half the reason to stay in a hotel and not just sleep in the car for a few hours, is the hot tub and pool. these are luxuries not seen regulary in my life. so, my dad and i went off in search of the hot tub.

unlike here in the great northland, the hot tub and pool were outside. it was nice and dark and the water was . . . well, hot, duh. but we just sat down there and talked for quite a while. it was really nice and stick in my mind as a good memory. bonding on the way to mexico. hm. . . writing this seems familiar, it’s possible that i’ve written about it before.

one particularly interesting thing that came up while we talked was the subject of dreams. i think i had been having odd dreams, which is actually pretty normal for me. most days i wake up with a head full of crazy dream fragments. (weird stuff like once i dreamt i was that actress from sabrina the teenage witch and i was being chased on roller skates through the boy’s locker room of my high school by a big black guy who wanted to anally rape me). anyway, we got to talking about scary dreams that we had and i told him about this dream i had maybe four or five years ago about a house that was haunted. i started to describe the house because the layout of the house seemed to be a big part of the dream. it was a long house and i remember there were hallways on each floor kind of running down the middle. and there were stairways in the front and back of the house. the other wierd thing was that there were two attics. anyway, as i was describing this, he cut in and said, that’s your grandma’s aunt fern’s house. he asked me a few more questions about the house and sure enough i had the right answers. i don’t remember ever going to that house. weird huh?

yeah, sitting there in that hot tub just relaxing and talking with my dad is a good memory for me. things between us weren’t always the best (though i don’t know anyone who has not at one point fought with their father) so times like those really mean something to me.

i’ve been thinking lately about how we get what we want. everyone has their own way of getting what they want and it’s hard to say that one is better than another. or maybe it’s not hard. i think the best criteria is does your method actually work? do you get what you want? that’s the main criteria. but there’s a second peice that is sometimes overlooked. does your method just get you what you want or does it work by method of making others/the world just want to give it to you? i guess the way that i like to look at it is this. saying what you want and being very clear is important. if you don’t do this, chances are, your desires could be overlooked. but i think the way that i look at this is this. i try to create a situation where what i want will happen naturally. i’m not saying this is the best way. it’s just my way.

there were years when i didn’t even speak to my father. now, we go out in his backyard for beer, horse shoes and sunsets. you know, it isn’t perfect but on the otherhand, i don’t see how anyone could ask for more. relationships, especially those with our parents are so full of wierd nicks and bruises. i’ve found that they take a lot of work. the thing is though, it feels now like both of us have put work into it and met in the middle somewhere. now, we can just sit on the back porch and watch the rain roll in off the mountains or the sun set. it’s not a big thing. it’s a small thing. it’s many small things, all the time. that’s what makes it possible.

the friend that i talked to i haven’t spoken to in . . . probably eight months or more. she’s an old friend from high school and niether of us have a good reason for not staying in touch. it’s just one of those things. time goes by and niether call. but when we do get back in touch it’s always great. we didn’t even begin to tell all the stories we have for each other. i told her that i’ve been living in new mexico and have been bonding with my father. she told me she got married and then her and her husband lost their jobs. good lord, there are a thousand stories behind those things and that doesn’t even begin to touch on what was not mentioned. all it took was a little phone call.

the movie was one that i had seen the last five minutes of once while at a party late at night and well, i wasn’t in a condition to really remember it. it’s not one that i’d pay for. but you know what? some nights it’s just fun to watch a stupid movie that is full of cliches.

i’m happy tonight. i’ve been thinking lately about what makes me happy. about what makes me feel like me. i’ve been thinking about the ins and outs of life. days go up and down. some days i feel right and some days are just off. in a way, we don’t control the ride at all. things come at us all the time. ah hell, this is getting too cliched. see, that is what happens when you watch a stupid movie on cable.

now that you’ve gotten to the end, i’ll give you the short version. tonight, i’m happy. i’m happy because of a million little things in my life. you can always count on the little things.

tonight i had dinner at a place called “dave’s not here.” (i shit you not, that is the name of the restuarant and having a friend named dave who had the skit on his answering machine for years makes it really funny to me.) it was my dad, debora, her brother steve and his wife diana. i think back to the first time i met them. it was almost two months ago at a different place called mariscos. it seems ages. like i’ve known them so much longer. they’re good people.

i find it kind of amazing how quickly i found a way to fit in here. i think much of that was due to the fact that i was made to feel welcome here. i wasn’t sure how it was going to be moving down here but one thing that i can say is that i was made to feel very welcome.

i don’t remember who it was that i was talking to about this the other day but it’s funny how life doesn’t turn out how you expect it to. in fact, i think that more and more, i’m trying not to have expectations. for quite a while now, i’ve been pretty good at finding good in whatever comes my way. more and more i’m making that the way of things. but yeah, things have a way of working out and being good in the end but many times its not how you would have thought it would be. i think back to all the ideas i’d have about what i wanted to happen. so much of it hasn’t but what i’ve come up with instead is better than the plans.

i helped my dad plant two trees in the front yard this evening. it was wonderful out this evening. a rain storm came through late this afternoon and afterward the air was just still and damp and wonderful feeling. it made me feel like i was home and not here in the desert. we sat out back and watched what we could see of the sunset through the clouds. i’m mostly very excited about going home and all that encompasses but i will certaingly miss sitting oustide with my dad like that. it is something that we had to work for.

you know, as much as i bash starbucks, you do get some good people watching in. you can see true americans there. good little consumers. this one, for example, is in the middle of the strip mall parking lot. lot’s of people coming and going. getting their grande decaf vanilla lattes. (i have a tall black coffee. a tall is really a small. who knew?) there is a woman waiting for her drink. her name is apparently erica. she has on big new jersey style hoop earings. there is a guy reading next to me reading a paper and he looks like your typical crazy guy at the coffee shop who reads all the papers. one day, while sitting in a coffee shop i watched a guy in a tuxedo take off his shoes and clip his toenails onto the floor. you see all sorts of things if you really look.

the woman behind the counter just said something about running out of the sauce and it made me think of thoth (like saying sauce if you have a lisp). i have a friend back home who i think we were calling thoth for a while but i don’t remember when. i miss the kid. haven’t seen him in months. last time, i visited him in his new house. it was all big and mostly empty. he has two beautiful dawgs. i miss the dogs too.

today i worked at a place called gypsy alley doing some networking stuff. it was hot work. i had to run cable on the roof for part of it. the thing about gypsy alley is that it’s a bunch of galleries. at least, that’s what they call them here. i call them stores. stores like you’d find at the galleria. heh, i just realized that that is kind of funny. anyway, i guess all the crap in them is nice but i can’t imagine spending that kind of money. maybe stuff is that expensive everywhere but i seriously doubt it. i say maybe because these particular galleries are selling baby clothes and i don’t know how much those are supposed to cost. i’ll let you be the judge. is eighty dollars too much to spend on three baby shirts? they’re just going to get puke on them anyway, right?

a guy just walked in wearing suspenders fashioned to look like tape measures. he is sporting a mostly grey ponytail and a tan visor. . . . damn, i just realized that you can buy the times here. i’ve come to the conclusion that that is just a damn good paper. others that i have read that i like are the minneapolis star tribune(not because it’s phenominal exactly but just because it’s familiar), the boston globe and . . . um well that’s it actually. when i go on vacation one of my favorite things to do is to read the local paper. first off, besides just walking around, it’s the best way to get in touch with the local scene. second, you might find a good new news source and let’s be honest, most of the reporting media is pretty much trash these days.

apparently the crazy news paper guy is a mac dude because he’s now talking to me about using Mail. maybe i was too quick to judge the crazy paper guy. if you’re a mac guy, you can’t be too bad. oh unless you’re a mac nazi. we don’t need an nazi’s around.

i want to write more but i’m pretty tired. my right eye is red. it’s been red for two days now. i must have alergies or something. or maybe it’s that i get saw dust and chips of wood in it every day. that could be.

this morning my dad and i volunteered to run one of the food stands for the santa fe century. that’s an anual 100 mile bike ride that they hold here. it was fun to be on that side of the food table. the last time i was in a situation like that, i was on the aids ride between mpls and chicago. the people were so happy that we were there and all it took on our part was cutting some fruit, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and getting them gatorade and water. it’s nice to know that little things still matter.

so, i took care of my health insurance mess that i needed to and paid my parking ticket. i took the morning off because i was still sick (though i need to leave for work in half an hour). i took some library books back. basically it was just a taking charge kind of day. i find that when i’m feeling down many times it’s because i’m letting things happen to me instead of going out and shaping my life. now, i don’t mean to say that i’m in complete control because i think many things we face are out of our control but just that it’s possible to shape any situation. i think some people look at this simply as your attitude towards things is completely up to you.

i’m in the mood to read some cometbus. some days are like that. i’m not sure what it is exactly about cometbus but somehow it always makes me feel calmer. there is something in his tone that kind of makes you feel like everything is going to be alright. i don’t know where there are any stores here that would sell cometbus so i’ll have to make do. instead i picked up some science fiction at the library. i used to read a lot of science fiction when i was younger. now it kind of comes in waves. i’ll read a few books and then concentrate on something else for a while. right now, it’s time for some good science fiction reading.

****************************

later.

today i am wearing faded blue jeans that used to be rolled up at the ankles because they are too long but the rolled up part has torn off so they are frayed at the bottom. i have on black sneakers that are probably around three years old, and you can tell. i am also wearing a plain white t-shirt with a pocket that is dirty from holding the kind of staples you use to hold electrical wires in place. on my head is my green fishermans cap, also frayed at the edges. it is a rather plain kind of outfit, not nice by any stretch of the imagination but just comfortable and i think, not really goofy (with the possible exception of the hat according to an ex-gf of mine).

the reason i bring this up is that i was walking around and started noticing the funny getups that people go out in. i saw one guy in a head-to-toe hilfiger outfit. it looked pretty much like a basketball warm up outfit but for the hilfiger team. the snaps on the legs were only clasped at the bottom snap so the legs hung open. it just looked funny and besides which, he wasn’t doing anything basketball related. am i being too critical here?

about a month back i was in albuquerque with a friend of mine who grew up up there and was back visiting family. we were sitting outside of a little cafe enjoying the late afternoon air when a group of four people came up and began to look over the cafe menu. only one of these people was wearing clothes that seemed . . . well, at the risk of sounding like my mother, appropriate. one guy was wearing a complete basketball wamrup outfit. baby blue but at least he had the legs buttoned completely. it was too large for him. one of the girls was a little on the heavy side, which is fine, but she was wearing a pink shirt that was many many sizes too small. basically it only served to show off and outline every roll of fat she possessed. i don’t remember what the other girl was wearing but it was also something that caused me to feel embarassed for her. the last guy was wearing something pretty normal. my friend looked at me after they went inside and said, “whoa, did you see that getup?” i said, which one? we laughed and wondered what could cause people to go out like that.

now, i don’t mean to sound like a snob and i’m certainly not the king of fashion but i think i dress pretty appropriately for the given occasion. i know many people will say that you should be an individual and be true to yourself and all that. to a point, i agree but i think that (at least in this country) you have to go with the crowd a little bit. i guess my point is that we live in a society and certain things just make you look more respectable, like dressing sort of appropriately or using good manners at a restaurant or when someone invites you to dinner. i spent time in my teenage years trying to break away from society and to be myself but the older i get the more that i find that sometimes it is beneficial to fit in. i think that as with most things, the best way to go lies in courting the middle ground. for examply, i dress relatively normal but i do kind of wear a goofy hat (admitedly in the minnesota winters, i have one of those bullwinkle hats with the ear flaps).

well, enough for now.