Aggieland, Revisited . . .

Aggieland, Revisited . . .

This is an update on a place that I have visited. It will be much different from the other time that I wrote of this land. It was a place of regret and is now a place of hope.

Saturday, September 19, 2009.

I am hopped up on coffee and listening to U2. There is grease leaking in my trunk from my grill. There is an open bag of Jalapeño chips nestled on my passenger seat. They will provide my nourishment for this trip. My windshield is covered with sap and I can barely see through the glare of the new day sun. I am going to Aggieland.

The reason this is such an important trip is because of who I was the last visit. I think that I have changed a lot and my life is on a new chapter. I was once scared of this place because it was different. I feared what I did not understand. I didn’t understand who I was and that led me to hate everything on this blue marble. That has changed and I now have a crush on College Station, TX.

I arrive at 10 AM. It is 8 hours until kick off and I must set up the tailgate. It will be very low-key as I am armed with the simplest of items. I have a set of chairs, a grill, sausage and hamburgers, chips and beer. This is what I have packed from my home in Austin. This is what I brought to Texas A&M to enjoy the atmosphere of Aggieland.

There is a culture at Texas A&M. This is a culture that I do not understand. It is a culture that I do not want to understand. There is a passion there for the Aggies that I have not seen at a sporting event outside of a Yankees game. Everyone is friendly. Everyone is helpful. Everyone is motivated to one goal, an Aggie victory. It is a culture that many do not like as they do not understand it.

I dropped off these items at Spence Park. This park is located in the shadow of Kyle Field. There were dozens of tents and grills already set up upon my arrival. I placed my modest belongings under a tree and left. I went to find a parking spot and returned to find them unharmed. Only in Aggieland can you place unmarked items under a tree only to return to see them untouched. I set up the tailgate and waited for my roommates. The true Aggie fans spent the evening with family and I was waiting for them. They were my key into this world. Without them, I would be an outsider. But, with them, I was an Aggie.

This is redundant, but I live in Austin. Austin is home to the University of Texas. This school is the main rival of Texas A&M. I look at these schools as I look at my other sports rivals. I will go through and piece together why the Texas A&M Aggies are the New York Yankees and the University of Texas Longhorns are the Boston Red Sox.

My roommates arrived with more refreshments and a football. Best move of the day was the football as it offered hours of entertainment. I finally learned how to use a charcoal grill as I utilized way too much lighter fluid. I made a meal of sausage and inedible hamburgers. We enjoyed the food and the crowd around us. Everyone was clad in maroon and white. Everyone was at peace and happy. It was the perfect afternoon.

Ok, I know people recoiled with that statement and I am sorry to offend Aggie fans that dislike the Yankees or vice versa. It is just the traditions of both institutions that causes me to think of this analogy. When I think of tradition I think of the Yankees. They have won the most, have always been the most famous and have not changed anything for a 100 years. When I think of Texas A&M, I think of the same things. The Yankees and the Aggies have traditions that will intimidate those with closed minds toward enjoying the experience.

We were able to purchase tickets 5 rows from the field in the end zone. The Aggies emerged from the locker room a few feet from our seats and we were in the action. The game went well as the Aggies smoked hapless Utah State. A&M has a very powerful offense and a solid enough defense. They will be more of a challenge this year than they were last year. There is a good chance that they could make a bowl game and that would be a very large improvement from last year.

UT is the Red Sox. Both have not won much. Both think that they have indeed won a lot more than they have. Both have awful colors. Both are located in cities that are very similar, Boston and Austin. Both have large amounts of fans that have never participated or gone to the University or stadium in which they play. Both are very arrogant and that life does not exist outside of a small bubble that is the campus or the city. And, both are the main rivals of two of my favorite teams in sports.

A visit to Aggieland is a visit to a Mecca for sports. There is nothing in the world of college football quite like it. There is honor for the past. There is respect for the present. There is hope for the future. Everyone in Aggieland understands this and it is a community. These same attributes exist in New York with the Yankees. When you show up to a game, even if you hate the team, you have to love the respect. If you wear a Yankee shirt you will be in a family in the Bronx. People will buy you beer and talk to you about anything in life. Both are institutions that have to be witnessed in person to understand the sublime emotions of the events.

This Saturday was much better than the last time I visited this place. I was open to the change and I did my research. I studied the words to the Aggie War Hymn and sang it as best as I could. I loved watching the March In and made friends from New Jersey. I enjoyed perfect weather with two of my closest friends in Austin. It was a perfect Saturday because I allowed it to be.

Moral: Texas A&M is going to be pretty good this year. Do not use too much Lighter fluid. The Yankees and Aggies are similar in many traditions. Let yourself look for the positive at all times.

Aggieland

Aggieland,

The following is an essay. I wrote this essay after my first ever visit to Texas A&M. This happened about a year ago to the day.  It is long and I wrote it as a travel essay.

Enjoy

Aggieland

            Why am I here? What is an Italian from Connecticut doing in College Station, TX? Why am I wearing maroon and white? What is this shirt I have on with what looks like a logo for a bank machine and not a University? Why is the hat I am wearing a cross of two muskets with the Texas star?

            I look to the left and the answer to all of my questions relaxes there. It is halftime and the Fightin’ Aggies of Texas A&M are leading the Black Knights of Army. There are about 80,000 people around me inside of Kyle Field. It is a Saturday in September. I am sweating and hot as the Texas heat is unbearable. I am trying to watch the band from Texas A&M do their world renown halftime act. The act is completely scripted by hand as it is so intricate that it does not register on a computer. My mind is not registering anything as I am in an area in which I know nothing. I am slowly developing a hatred for everything that I am wearing and anything known as Texas A&M. This includes the person to my left. She is Bonnie. She loves this University and was born here. This is how we found ourselves stuck together on a trip we both didn’t want to embark.

Six months earlier.

“Thanks for meeting me.” I said.

“It’s my pleasure.” She said.

“I hope the place was close.” I said.

“It’s perfect. I work right down the street.” She said.

“Perfect.” I said.

            This was our second time meeting. She was beautiful. She was short and had a great figure. She had brown eyes and hair. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. It still shocked me that she agreed to a second meeting as I was limited with what they call “game.” I was tall and skinny with dark hair and dark eyes.

“Do you like sushi?” I asked.

“I do.” She said.

“This should be the perfect spot then.” I said.

            This is how the discussion began. It continued through the evening. We both enjoyed a few drinks and discussed everything that we understood life to be at that moment. We found out the details you do early on like how many siblings you have, how long have you lived in the area, what are you studying, yadda yadda yadda.

“Who’s your favorite team?” I asked.

“I love Texas A&M.” She said.

“The Aggies?” I said.

“You know them?” She said.

“I don’t know them, I’ve heard of them.” I said.

“Not many people know their mascot.” She said.

“I know that and they play Texas on Thanksgiving.” I said.

“Wow, very nice.” She said.

“That’s random to like Texas A&M.” I said.

“I was born there and my family are die hard fans.” She said.

“Well, I do go for them once a year against Texas so I guess I am a fan too.” I said.

            The rest was history. Within ten days of that second encounter we were boyfriend and girlfriend. We made it official on Facebook which is the ultimate cultural test of society. We had the same friends. We loved the same things. We became the perfect couple in weeks. We were invited to every party and loved every second of it. We were the healthiest and most admired couple ever. We finally were complete.

“I have something to tell you.” I said.

“What is it?” She said.

“I didn’t want to say it like this.” I said.

“Say what?” She said.

“I think, um, I mean. I mean that I Love you.” I said.

“Really?” She said.

“I know, it’s –“ I said.

“No, I’ve wanted to say it before but didn’t want to freak you out.” She said.

            That was after three months. It felt right at the time. I am not saying that we were not in Love. It is just, that Love seems to change. That is “puppy love.” It is a list or infatuation with something or someone that causes you to want to believe in things. We all have been to this moment. This is all that I knew Love was and meant. I had never been further than the “puppy love” stage. I was in for what maturity and life meant.

“Where are you going?” She said.

“A walk.” I said.

“A walk?” She said.

“Can I not go for a walk?” I said.

“Why do you want to go for a walk?” She said.

“I don’t know, to walk?” I said.

“What are you thinking about?” She said.

“Nothing.” I said.

“Then why are you going for a walk?” She said.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said.

“We never talk about it.” She said.

“I don’t want to argue.” I said.

“It needs to happen if we are going to get through this.” She said.

“Through what?” I said.

“This relationship. You need to trust me.” She said.

“I’ll be right back.” I said.

“Did you finish packing yet?” She said.

            I didn’t respond and went on my walk. I just needed to clear my mind. So much was going on and not going on. I needed to get time alone. That’s all. Me time. Time to myself. I just needed to think through the next move. Everything was going so fast I was scared. Scared about who I was. Who I was becoming. Who we were becoming.

            That was yesterday. Now I am here at a football game with a person that I think I Love but have no idea who she is because I won’t let her find out who I am. How do you let someone in for the first time?

“Do you want anything?” She asked.

“No thanks.” I said.

“I’m going to be right back.” She said.

            She stood and left me there alone. She went off to the concession stand and to cool off. I was the last one of the original four to be still sitting watching the band perform. Her Uncle and Aunt had drove us to the game and had retreated to the shade for the duration of the halftime. I had never viewed any sort of performance that I was watching. The moves were so precise. The detail so clear. It was actually beautiful.

            I could never admit that to her. I could never tell her how I thought the march in was beautiful. How I thought that Texas A&M had an amazing campus. How everything was so green and manicured. It was such a different landscape from Tempe that I was used to going to school. I couldn’t tell her how friendly everyone was when they would smile and say “howdy.” Apparently, that is the greeting that is common and I just looked with a blank look like I was trying to order off a German menu. I couldn’t tell her that I thought it was amazing that 80,000 people would show up for a football game in this heat. If this was Tempe, there would have been 10,000 and half of them would be intoxicated. I couldn’t tell her any of this because I was supposed to be upset. I was upset about something that had happened the night before, or the hour before or at any time. I was supposed to take out all of my frustrations out on her even though she didn’t deserve them. I couldn’t allow her to know that I was having fun. It was too easy to be miserable. I was stubborn.

            There is a ritual at the Texas A&M football games. This is before the fourth quarter when the entire stadium sings in unison the Aggie War Hymn. This is a common occurrence at a majority of college football games, but is unique in College Station, as you have to participate. Texas A&M does not have cheerleaders as they are a school with a rich tradition and do not need naked co-eds jumping around the sidelines to allow for fans to get excited. Rather, they have what are called Yell Leaders. These men are students and are in charge of leading different chants throughout the game. They run around the sideline and pump up the student section to rehearsed chants. These rehearsals are held before a game and are known as midnight yells. So, these Yell Leaders are running around and doing their routine as the third quarter comes to a close. The fight song begins and everyone starts singing. I am mouthing along like I am used to during when I was an alter boy at my Catholic school and had no idea what the Response psalms were supposed to be. Then all of a sudden, the person to my right for which I did not know as did my girlfriend to my left. They grabbed me and I was to partake in the fight song as the entire stadium sways to create a spectacle of movement I could only equate to how it looked when the Red Sea parted. Before my senses realized what had just happened, it was over. I was in culture shock as liberals are not used to being that friendly with someone that they do not know.

“What the hell was that?” I said.

“The Way Hymn.” She said.

“Why did that dude grab me?” I said.

“It’s tradition.” She said.

“This place has way too many traditions.” I said.

            That was the final conversation we had during the game. Texas A&M beat the Army Knights. The game was over and I began to leave. I followed the lead of my girlfriend’s Uncle and was exiting the section in which we were seated. My girlfriend and her Aunt remained for a moment as did the rest of the stadium. I looked around and felt like Judas with everyone oddly looking at what I was doing without any sense of logic. The War Hymn began again and the entire football team from Texas A&M looked to the sideline. They sang the fight song with everyone in the stadium excluding me, Judas, and my girlfriend’s Uncle who had season tickets to the University of Texas and snuck in unnoticed until this moment. We looked on and watched the entire community of Aggieland embrace each other and celebrate as one the victory on the field.

            The fight song concluded and people began to file out. I had no idea how to comprehend anything that had just happened. I had so much material to debate with my girlfriend and couldn’t wait to keep the fight going. People were leaving in every direction and the 80,000 slowly took on the visual of ants scouring over a granule of sugar. My girlfriend was among these people and she had a look of defeat on her face.

“Why didn’t you stay for the fight song?” She said.

“I didn’t know there was another one.” I said.

“You could have came back down.” She said.

“I never want to come to this place again.” I said.

            That was the final statement that I said to her that day. She cried. It was not a cry that I could stop with an apology. I knew this and said nothing. I just put my head down and thought about my life for the rest of the trip. I did not say anything to her Uncle or Aunt. I did not say anything to anyone around. I had taken it upon myself to ruin the greatest place in the world for my girlfriend because I was stubborn. She wanted me to like the experience so much my emotions were directly tied with hers. I took this for granted and wanted to make everything around me miserable. I was scared of liking Aggieland and having to accept that I was wrong about this place. I was wrong about everything that I said negatively about College Station. I was wrong about the type of people that live in Texas and how middle America is a place that I was jealous. I was jealous of the relationship my girlfriend had with the University. Why couldn’t she have that kind of relationship with me? I was scared of the future. Fear. It’s a killer.

            Since that first trip to College Station a lot has changed. I have become much more mature. I have become a man and have started to take control of my life. I have done enough to be happy with who I am to win back my girlfriend. That day in Aggieland I had no idea the test that I was faced with. I understood the challenge but didn’t accept the importance. Rather than take it on, I deflected and became a child. That day I found out that Love was fear. Love is not easy and something that is earned through yourself. That day I found out that the perceptions that we keep in our mind can shape an experience for the rest of our lives. I looked at Aggieland as a place I never wanted to go to again. I look at it now as a place that I cannot wait to get to. The reasons are the same. The reasons are that it causes my girlfriend such happiness that I want her to be there. I want her to be happy and that is the most important thing in my life. When I was first there, I didn’t want anything in the world to be more important to her than me. I was scared of becoming second to anything and was selfish. I was a child. Now I am an adult and look at Aggieland as that first threshold that launched me onto this journey of maturity and Love.

The Writing Life.

The writing life.

The life of the writer is awful.

Do not engage in this life as it will consume you.

“Of course we are nuts, we sit around and have conversations in our minds with people that we create.” ~David Mamet.

The following will be my life. It will be a microcosm of my life on a daily basis in Austin.

Wake up. Usually around 8 or 9 depending on what had happened the previous day. Immediately the thoughts start. Once I wake up there is no going back to sleep as my conscious won’t let me. I am like the kid on Christmas that cannot get back to sleep when I wake up at 4 AM by accident. I must run around and wake up the rest of the house as it is a new day.

Drink about a pot of coffee and check the Internet. This usually takes about an hour as I ingest everything that has happened over the time of my slumber. The thoughts continue and begin to mount on my back.

“What am I going to write?”

“When am I going to write?”

I try to drown them out with music. I try to talk to my roommates and ignore the voice.

I then depart for “work.” It is not really work as I go to an office and either do random movie things or theatre things. Both do not cause stress and allow me time to think.

“Why did this happen last week?”

“What does it mean that traffic was better today?”

“Can I use that in a story?”

“I can write a story about traffic?”

“When am I going to write?”

I finish work and return home. It is usually around 3 in the afternoon and I have the rest of the day in front of me. Most of the times I find beer as that is the best way to limit the noise. Other times I sit and sulk. I have mood swings as I am completely happy with my exterior life, but my mind is racing on a treadmill going nowhere.

“What movie should I watch?”

“Why should I watch that movie?”

“What does that movie mean to society?”

“What do I mean to society?”

“Where is the beer?”

This continues until it is time to eat. I eat and hope to find something to do with my roommates that removes me from the terrible feeling that I am useless. I play chess to exercise my mind. I read books to distract my thoughts. A monkey resides on my back and it mounts the pressure when I don’t write.

“Why am I not writing?”

“When will I write?”

“What will I write about?”

“Will they like it?”

“I need to make it better than last time.”

“Ok, I just need to start.”

“After a movie. I will watch a movie then I will sit down and write.”

I watch a film with my roommates and it is getting late. My mind is obviously exhausted from the day and does not want to think. I will just rest tonight and eat ice cream. I will just relax and write tomorrow. That’s it. I will spend the whole day writing tomorrow. I will write the best piece yet and the thoughts will just sort themselves out. I lie to myself on a daily basis.

“Why did you not write today?”

“You are a bad writer.”

“You’ve lost whatever you had.”

“You are not disciplined enough for this.”

“Why are you even trying?”

“You are not good enough.”

These thoughts ride me to bed. Most of the time it is an unsettled rest. Most of the time I toss and turn. I never say what is wrong and blame other things for my restless appearance. I keep a smile and slowly slip into depression. It is not a bad depression; it is something with a very easy and logical cure. The trick is to get to that cure.

These thoughts riddle me on a daily basis. These thoughts case me to live on the spectrum of emotions. I am never really even keeled. I am never just there. I am either elated and ready to climb a mountain. Or, I am defeated and up doesn’t really mean up anymore.

I am writing this as I am in a cycle. Life is a cycle. Life is this cycle that causes you to ride and ride until you need to chill it out. The past few days this cycle has been spinning out of control. I know that I am in charge of the spinning. I know that I am my own worst enemy. I know that is true with everyone. We are the gauge on our stress level. I know that I am stubborn and this causes me to always catch the lever when it is too late.

This is the life of a writer. Being a writer is like living. Writers never know where anything is going. Writers thing about everything way too much. This is how life is for most of us. It is a journey in which there is not end. It is a journey that if you cause yourself in a direction, and force yourself to being right because you are stubborn, you will never be happy.

You may be asking, why do I write. If it is so miserable, why do I do it? My answer, is that it makes me happy. It is the thing in this world that makes me the happiest. When I am in line, nothing can bring me down. It is my drug. It is my addiction. It is my Love. Like any Love, it is always amazing when I find it and heartbreaking when I can’t get close to it.

One of my closest allies always tells me this:

“Never let the boat of writing get too far away from the dock.”

This means, never stop writing. Never stop as it becomes like exercise. Once you stop exercising, the longer it goes the more intimidating it is. Writing is exercise. It is always easy and up to you as a person. The further it goes, the harder it is to get back.

Never let the boat of life get too far from the dock without you on board. You know when life is spinning. Have the courage to hit the reset button and love the details again.

This has helped in so many ways. Thank you for reading and get the axis of life back.

Moral: Writing and life are the same thing. I have recently had a Dave Chappelle shut down moment when everything is out of my control and the stress of the conscious is too much. Love the breathe you are inhaling. 

List of life

The key to a happy life is having a short memory and a long reservoir of compassion.

This is something that I have always known but just found out.

This is something that has been in my mind for decades, but I didn’t find it until recently.

This is not to say that I have not been doing this or acted in this manner at some point in my past.

It is to say that we as people do things everyday that makes us who we are but we never understand it.

Everything is a perspective. It is up to you to understand what is happening.

Being the third wheel is never a fun thing unless you are a tricycle.

Ever feel like you are not in on the joke?

Ever feel like the joke is being taken out on you?

Ever feel like life is one big joke and you are just waiting for the punchline?

Stop waiting for it.

Stop being left out of the joke.

Being the third wheel is a terrible feeling, don’t be the third wheel to life.

Austin will make you soft.

Your mind will be lost if you forget to challenge it.

Nothing can be created that is not wanted to be created.

A disconnect happens when a connection is lost on a personal, physical and metamorphic level.

Growing old means you have to be mature.

Being mature means you have to remember to be childish.

Love your neighbors.

Love everything that is around you.

Love yourself.

Do not rely on others for your happiness.

Do not rely on exterior things to produce an internal journey.

Do not read this if you are hypocritical.

I am hypocritical so it is ok for me to write this.

Ok, what is this all about?

Why am I writing in this strange one line ramble?

These are strands of thought that have been racing through my mind.

I tried to sit down and write a story, I tried to sit here and entertain you, but I was defeated.

I defeated myself before I started because I am unsettled.

I am at another crossroads and need more information before I go further.

For this reason, I am unable to concentrate on a normal story.

I am not able to understand the beauty in the details that I once had.

Therefore, I will be on a crusade to find myself in Austin.

I will go forth into the world of Texas and stripe myself of everything.

I will be lost from everyone and everything in order to find that little piece I am looking for.

It is not large and there as it is always there.

I apologize for this post, but I needed to get this off of my mind.

I needed to let you, the reader, know that I am on this search so I can better provide the happiness that this little piece of the internet causes for you.

Birthday Challenge

Friday, September 18, 2009.

Aloha!

As everyone knows I am about to become 25 years old. When I say about to become, I mean in a few days, depending on when you read this. This is my quarter life crisis with the positive outlook of living until 100.

I am about to spend this day away from all of my family and most of my friends. This causes me to wonder what I can do to unite everyone. What I have come up with is the following.

If you receive this, you are one of my friends and I hold your friendship dear to my heart. The following is a list. Look at it as a scavenger hunt for your soul. These are things that I will be doing the week of my birthday (September 21 – September 28). I will complete each of these actions and provide a photograph to prove the accomplishment.

What I challenge you to do, is the same thing. Do all of these things. Do one of these things. I do not care, but I want to know which ones you do. I will run a contest and the person that completes the most will receive a door prize. I thank you for reading this and good luck!

This is my way of changing the world . . .

The 25 degrees of William Spadaro. What I will do to change everything I know!

1. Drink coffee with Baileys and eat breakfast taco’s consisting of eggs, cheese and potatoes. (Always wanted to do this before work, now is the day)
2. Paint a picture and enjoy the beauty in the details. I will do so in the middle of downtown Austin during the middle of the day.
3. Sing karaoke. My song will be “Imagine” by John Lennon. (Do something you have always judged but never tried)
4. Dance. Attempt will be salsa, line dancing or swing. (Do something that scares you to death)
5. Lunch with a homeless person to understand the person. (Reach out and connect with the less fortunate)
6. Listen to my favorite album of each decade. (Connect with the music you grew up with)

1950’s: Miles Davis with “Kind of Blue” (1959)

1960’s: The Beatles with “Revolver” (1966)

1970’s: The Who with “Who’s Next” (1971)

1980’s: U2 with “Joshua Tree” (1987)

1990’s: Pearl Jam with “Ten” (1991)

2000’s: Bright Eyes with “I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning” (2005)

7. Eat a new food that I would have never considered before. (Change your perspective)
8. Give something a second chance after you ruined the first being stubborn. I will go to Texas A&M for a football game. Participate in all festivities and the Aggie War Hymn.
9. Enjoy a local activity you have forgotten about. I will watch the bat’s leave the Congress bridge while enjoying a picnic.
10. Go to an art museum. I will go to Austin Museum of Modern Art for the Chuck Close exhibit.
11. Support a local charity with money and more importantly, time.Go to live, free show of Bob Schnieder at Waterloo to support HAAM.
12. Hike a mountain or take a walk in park in your area. I will hike Mt. Bonnell in Austin.
13. Visit a botanical garden or natural habitat in your area. I will visit Zilker Park Botanical Garden and Barton Springs Pool.
14. Meditate.  I will enjoy the beauty of the Capital of Texas at night and clear my mind of the day’s activities and worries.
15. Give a compliment. (Respect the people around you.)
16. Kiss the person you Love. (Express your feelings to spark the Love.)
17. Try a new beer or wine. (Expand yourself past your normal comfort zones.)
18. Accept your enemy. True paradise is to learn to Love your enemy. I will root for the Red Sox against the Yankees.
19. Challenge yourself to be non-discriminatory toward something. I will watch a “chick flick.”
20. Discard previous stereotypes. Listen to a country radio station for a day.
21. Get back to the basic elements of living. Go a day without any technology. No cell phone, computer, TV, radio, or Ipod.
22. Challenge yourself. I will cook something that I have always wanted to but have been too scared to try.
23. Be selfless. I will improve the day of one person that I meet by simply listening.
24. Remove any bad thought from your being. Spend a day without being negative, judgmental, angry, or guilty.
25. Apologize to someone for a past action. (Healing the past is the only way to live in the future.)

Gospel Sunday

“You must unlearn what you have learned.” –Yoda

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Austin is a dynamic community of many different cultures. The goal of a city like this is to never lose your self-identity. The city has a pulse of independence. It is a city that does not like conformity or unoriginal thoughts. If you are lost, come to Austin. If you are stubborn, go to Los Angeles.

I started going to Unity church in Phoenix, AZ. It is a non-denominational Christian church. It looks at the Bible as a plan of thought, not an absolute code. I think of it as a bunch of smart people sharing ideas and meditating. Unity is International and during my first visit to Austin over a year ago, I stumbled onto the Unity church of Austin. This was going to be my first experience at the location.

When I came to Austin I completely changed. I had to. I did not change into a culture that would not accept me. I did not force myself into Cowboy boots or country music. Where I changed was in finding myself. I found out whom I was inside and what it takes to be that person. I found the courage to do what I wanted and have freedom. Usually, people find this much younger and it produces credit card debt and alcoholism. For me, it was finally acceptance that I was not the only person thinking about these things. I am not the only person worried about everything.

I went to church on my own. I think that church is a special environment that is something that needs to be done singular on occasion. I look at church in the same light that I look at a movie theater. I am there to get a distraction for an hour or so. I am there to learn something that I have not understood before or forgot along the shuffle of life. Lastly, I am there to recharge. I go to the movies to escape the meat grinder of life. I go to church to allow my loathing to settle for a bit and understand that everything will never make sense.

Austin is a unique city as it has no identity. It has a motto: “Keep Austin Weird,” but no true sense of self. I look at Austin as a mirror of myself. It is in constant change. It is something new and different everyday. It is not greedy and when it tries to become something it is not it fails miserable. It is not self-promoting and could care less what others think as long as it is staying true to itself. Check that, I am not Austin. I strive to be Austin everyday; some days it works, others it does not.

Unity of Phoenix was the second biggest church within Unity. It was a massive structure that had a compound. There was a courtyard where people congregated. There were refreshments and a garden. There were people progressively talking and there was a pulse of something good happening on those grounds. Unity of Austin had a much different vibe. It was not bad, just not what I expected. The service was similar, but the church itself was very intimate. There were about a dozen people or so and it felt more like a Catholic church than progressive institute.

The days that it works out create poetic expressions. When I am in touch with this city, I dominant it. I trek around every corner and find new adventures. I take pictures and understand the greatness of the details. I become part of the pulse and am intimidated by nothing. My mind wanders in the fairyland and everything is in its right place. I listen to my Ipod that creates the soundtrack for each episode I experience. These episodes are pieced together within myself to create a mosaic of what this city means to me. This, my faithful readers, is on the good days.

After this church service I was left unfulfilled. I remember the change that I felt when I would go in Phoenix. I remember how I would leave a new person. How I would look forward to the service and everything I was to experience. I had never had a bad time and would look forward to the discussion that certain elements of the service sparked between my Uncle, Aunt and I. I was expecting this same sense of accomplishment, but was left empty. I was left longing for the enlightenment that I found in Phoenix those Sundays. I decided to go to Stubb’s for lunch and to understand what was wrong with me.

The days that the city is overwhelming are difficult. The city seems massive. The alleys seem thin. The community seems distant. The logic seems frayed. The reasons seem limited. The tasks begin to mount. I wake up and desire to find a distraction from what it is I am living for. I look for ways to avoid myself. I begin to self-loath everything that is around me. I hate the city for being so unique. I hate the house I live in for being too perfect. I hate the ones closest to me for being so supportive. I just want to be destructive in a corner and pretend that everything around me is not overwhelming and does not exist.

On Sunday’s Stubb’s has Gospel Brunch. There are two times for this event, one at 9:30 and one at 11. I made it in time for the 11 and was seated in front of a stage. I ordered a beer and grabbed my plate. Stubb’s is a BBQ place in Austin. It is famous for the sauce that is made as that is sold nationwide. Stubb’s is a part restaurant, part outdoor amphitheater. This was to be my third visit to Stubb’s and the first time I was to sit downstairs. There is a small showroom with a stage. I am seated two tables from the stage and exit the back door where the buffet is set up. The buffet consisted of eggs, waffles, two different potatoes, greens, four different meats and pecan pie. It was to be a feast.

I am happy to say that the good days outweigh the bad days. Everyday is usually a good day and the bad days creep up just to keep life interesting. Today is a great day. Today is one of those days that people write greeting cards about. Today is one of those days that makes you smile just to watch a parent and child walk in the park. Today is a day that makes life what it is. There is a sense of self. There is a sense of accomplishment. There is a sense of worth. There is a sense of meaning. There is a sense of Love for everything that constructs the time that we have.

The best element of the brunch was not the food but the entertainment. See, at the Gospel brunches, Gospel musicians perform throughout the meal. The band performing for my visit was a seven piece from San Antonio. Every member was African American and each soloed a few songs. One member was a child and on the drums. He was learning the tricks of the trade and was probably a grandchild of one of the other members. I ate and drank and listened. The room was full and everyone around me was enjoying everything happening. There was not a frown in the room and dancing broke out in one corner. The vibe was easy to understand as jubilation. It became one of my favorite days living in Austin.

Since live is this constant growth and understanding that we are just big children running around in adult bodies, it feels good to accomplish something. What I looked to accomplish on this day was to get an easy fix at a church I used to go to. What I found is no experience is ever understood when you force yourself to feel something.

See, while in Arizona my life was full of the bad days I mentioned above. I would have those anxieties on a daily basis. I would have the weekly outlet and would enjoy Sunday’s as those were the days that allowed me to grow. Those were the only days that offered me solitude to find myself.

What I found is that in Austin everyday is a good day. Well, almost everyday. I do not need to go to a place on a Sunday to experience what I feel on a daily basis. I am learning to be an adult with the Love of my life and doing so in a city that has the character of a lost post-college graduate. I created a sense of enlightenment and nirvana by chance at Stubb’s. I was hoping to get drunk and go home unsatisfied. Instead, I was on stage singing and felt the love that life has to offer. This wonderful opportunity we have to challenge ourselves to accomplish goals everyday offers the nirvana that we seek for our spirit. Go out and challenge yourself. Do not do it for anyone else other than yourself. I challenged myself and moved to a new city. Some of the worst actions are those that are not taken. Destroy all labels as they will only end up owning you.

Moral: Yoda is a wise, fake creature. Stubb’s has some very good barbeque. Challenge yourself to think about your existence to understand why exactly everything is happening. Is it really happening or are you forcing it to happen mentally to avoid the journey in front of you?

“Ladies and Gentlemen: I’m a writer!”

The Lost Night

Sunday, September 6, 2009.

A hangover is the ultimate understanding that you have to apologize to someone or something for actions that you barely remember from the previous evening.

One of my closest friends from Arizona came to visit Austin. It was a last minute trip and he stayed for two days. He arrived into town the same evening that I returned from my cousin’s wedding. I had not spent any time with Bonnie and she was dying to see me. Rather than relax with her and catch up on the past weekend, I ran out to the bar.

There are reasons to drink. I think that there are a few that make logical sense. I drink to celebrate something. I drink to enjoy in accomplishing something or to signify a special day. For example, I drank during my last day in Arizona. It signified that I was moving on with the next stage of my life. This type of milestone is a cause for a celebration so I partook in the enjoyment of a few spirits.

I entered my house and did not say a word to any of Bonnie’s closest friends. These girls were her roommates in Arizona and some of my friends when I lived there. I do not have an excuse for this action and just had some evil in me that needed to get to the bar. I dropped my bag off into my room, hopped into the shower and was off for a night with an old friend. I rode my bike the mile and a half to the center of everything and was set to begin.

Another reason that I drink is to forget. I drink to forget the time that I am having. I drink to forget the problems that I have. I drink to have an excuse for why I am not properly handling the problems. I drink because it is easier than fighting.

The evening started off at Riley’s on Sixth. It was a Sunday and the place was empty. We drank a pint and began a bar crawl. The crawl took us to the Aquarium on Sixth where we drank Shiners. It was going fine and we were talking like nothing had changed since I last saw my friend. It was like I had reverted back to three months ago. I had reverted back to something that I hated.

The last reason why I drink is I am a coward. I think that I drink not because I enjoy it. I think I drink because it is a crutch. It is a crutch that allows me to forget about the challenges in front of me. Within lies why I know that I have so much room to grow. Rather than taking on a challenge, I can create logic to avoid it. Thus, causing me to drink as I know deep down that the challenge is still there and I am just trying to distract my conscious from the fact of the issue.

The night was strictly beers, or so it started. We continued with a beer at the Shiner Saloon on Congress and The Gingerman in the Where house distract. Everything started to blur by this point and last call was approaching. We stumbled back to the beginning and Sixth street in search of a flaming Dr. Pepper.

My life has become this cycle. I know this because everything in this world is a circle. Everything is connected by past actions and past actions will inflict the future that we lead. One decision will change everything that we know. One word said can make you regret the next decade of your life. I am within this cycle of being lost. I am lost on a daily basis and look to some quote to lead me to my sanity. Most of the time this works and I lead a very productive existence. Sometimes it doesn’t and in my destruction is everything that I could ever care about.

The quest was found as we did indeed find the flaming Dr. Pepper. It is a shot and existed at a bare on Sixth, Touche. The shot tastes like a shot. The unique element of it is that when you order it the bartender lights the bar on fire. There is a flame and then he spits alcohol to make it bigger. The bar lights on fire for a few moments and then you take the warm shot. When you are drunk and irresponsible this is an amazing thrill.

This cycle is positive too. Like everything in life, it is not always good nor bad. It is a positive thought because everything can become positive. Everything in the world has the potential to be good depending on your mindset. Life does not exist in the spaces that we inhabit or in the clothes we wear; but in the mind we think. Whatever we think is whatever will happen. I found this out as excuses began to creep into my head for why things were happening. These excuses had me raising issues with everything from the dirt on the ground to the sun in the sky. Sometimes I am spinning too fast and forget about the things that mean the most to me. When this happens everything great on this wonderful planet become enemies. I am my own worst enemy.

The shot went down smooth. I walked my friend to his hotel. We made plans to get lunch the following day. I told myself how sober I was as I pedaled my way home. I was not sober. I was definitely not sober. I made it home without an issue. I entered my house and went to sleep. I laid my head to rest and everything was spinning out of control. My life is a metaphor for how my conscious felt.

A hangover is the ultimate reward for being stubborn. It is the perfect circle of existence. It is a product of irrational behavior that caused you to poison yourself and those you care about. Usually after a hangover you spend a few days trying to heal yourself and a few months trying to heal something that you broke. For me, there was a break of trust for myself. There was a break of everything that I would like to stand for. There was a break of why I moved to Austin and the life that I was pursuing. I broke everything that I spent weeks building in the actions of one evening.

I am being harsh on myself because I need to be. I did not kill anyone. I did not break any bones or my bike. I did not break a window or get arrested. I broke a pact that I made with myself to be an adult. I broke the trust that I had with Bonnie. I became a hypocrite in one failed night of childish behavior.

I like to keep this blog upbeat and provide some sense of understanding to you, the readers. I sketched the reasons why I drink and I think this experience falls into all of three areas. I was celebrating my life in Austin. I was trying to forget about the emotions of the past few days in North Carolina. I was ignoring my responsibilities as an adult and to the trust of having a caring Bonnie waiting at home. The positive element I can spark from this is to never give into the temptation of taking the easy way out. The easy way for me was to get drunk and ignore my emotions. It was just one night, but that night humbled me to understand that this life we lead is much more fragile than we know.

Being positive, forgive yourself. Forgive yourself for something that you did when you were a child. Forgive yourself for anything that is afflicting you. Do not carry the burden or the baggage of a negative conscious as life is too difficult during the best of times. Love everything and everyone as there is nothing in this world that you are not prepared to handle. This is a list of things that I tell myself everyday, so if they do not apply, I apologize. Just wanted to share as these were misplaced for about a week and I’m re-finding my track. Lastly, it is ok to ask for help. That is why you have people close to you, every once and a while we all need a little help from our friends.

Moral: I am sorry to my friends who I did not spend time with, I owe each of you an apology and a coffee when I see you again. Flaming Dr. Pepper shots will cause you to remember just how little gets accomplished when drinking. Life is not nearly as easy as we think it is, nor is it as difficult. Find the balance and never hurt the ones you Love the most as apologies never repair the pain you caused.

Wisdom

Thursday through Sunday. August 27th through August 31st.

I went to Mooresville, North Carolina for a family obligation to attend a wedding. What I found was true wisdom.

The flight left Austin at 9 AM. I was to fly to Dallas for an hour layover. From Dallas I had a direct flight into Charlotte, North Carolina. I was picked up at the airport by my Uncle. He was married to my dad’s sister, but has been divorced for a while. I had not seen him in 15 years and only had a picture on his facebook to allow me to decipher who I was looking for. The weekend had officially begun. I was back at home with my family that I ran away from. I was to spend four days in Mooresville, North Carolina without any freedom or Independence. I was to be miserable as I was going to be treated like a five year old.

Something happens in your brain. Something happens with the mood that you choose to put yourself in. Something happens when you wake up and say this is going to be a good day or a bad day. Most of the time, that decision in the early morning will dictate how you spend your time. If you want to have a good day, you will have a good day. If you choose to be negative, then a bad day will be on the horizon. The power of the mind is a very dangerous thing.

I was picked up and on my way to the house without a challenge. Everything had gone smoothly and I was back to being the baby. A funny thing happens when you hang out with family; they always treat you like a child. You have to fight, you have to challenge everything to earn the respect of the elders. Otherwise, you will forever be the baby and rather than listen to you, they will give you food and drinks to make you happy.

There was nothing that I was counting on to be positive from the trip. I had complained to the closest ear for a week concerning my having to go. I thought about not going and then my conscious stepped in to kick my ass. I did not want the challenge of my family. I did not want the questioning of every one of my actions. I did not want the constant defense of my lifestyle. I did not want these things because I did not believe in myself. I did not believe that what I was doing was right. I did not think that I made every right choice. I did not believe that I was properly placed in the eyes of my family. I did not want to lie to my family.

I arrived at my Aunt’s house. It overlooks a very prominent lake in the Charlotte, NC area. The lake was man made and 30 miles long. When you arrive at such a house, you forget that it is a house. You forget that you live in one of the same things where ever it is that you call home. You forget about every worry in the world and begin the celebration. It was to be a celebration that generations of Italians were to be located in North Carolina. It was to be a beautiful weekend and I wanted no part of it.

Why is the mind so powerful? Why does it allow me to live? Why does it allow me to challenge and think? Why does it allow me to fight and fall in Love? Why does it cause me so much emotion? Why does it make me cry even as I write this? Why does it make life so miserable? Why does it make life so marvelous? Why does it do the things that it does? Would it not be so much easier to live life without any thought or emotion?

A positive from the trip was my ability to see my family. I had missed them and it was good to spend a few days reconnecting. It was also a chance to reconnect with my earlier generations of family. There is no worse feeling in the world than not remembering a family members name that helped raise you. This happened when I arrived and spoke with Aunt Vera and Aunt Jean. I did not remember them as it had been years since I last saw them; but they remembered me. Both gave me a big hug and I was dumbfounded when I could not find their name in my memory. This weekend started off with a bang.

The negativity from the weekend was already flowing. I did not want to be there and I did not truly know anyone. This was a family that I was removed from and one that I had nothing but negative thoughts for. I was raised to be judgmental of every action and question the motif behind every thought. It was good that I did not know the family. It was good that I could not remember stories from the past. It was a past that I wanted to forget. It was a negative beam that I was spawned from and it was my duty to distinguish myself away from everything else. Then, I met my great Uncle again. I knew him and spoke with him. But I did these things as a child, never as an adult. I was to be instructed on what it takes to be a man.

The weekend went by in stanzas. The days jumbled into hours of eating and talking. Everyone was enjoying themselves and casting opinions about everything in sight. I was to take a backseat to these thoughts and just listen. I listened to everyone to understand the people that they were. This allowed me to gauge what to talk about with who. I did get into discuss with my Uncle Benny. He is first generation from Italy and spoke of not judgments, but of stories. He spoke with situations from well before I was born and how those actions dictated who I was to be come. He and his wife, who is my Grandfather’s sister provided my moral compass for the weekend. I was to be found at their hip listening to broken English/Italian and learning as much as I could of the relationship that I was born from. It was to be the most intelligence I was to gain in my entire life. I could though away my college degrees just for another weekend of listening to how life is the same from the ‘30’s in Southern Italy to the present day in central Texas.

I did have my own room for the weekend. I stayed at the same hotel as my parents and brother. I enjoyed meals with them and we discussed the Yankees. We spoke of my new lifestyle and the troubles that I left in Arizona. We spoke of my life with Bonnie and the future that was ahead of us. I looked at my brother and parents as adults. I looked at them with dignity and respect. They faced much more difficult circumstances than I could ever imagine at a younger age. They had the most respect from me than I ever thought I would be able to provide.

There were pockets of discussions around the compound in which we were relaxing. There was a pocket of drinkers. There was a pocket of cookers. There was a pocket of old story telling. There was a pocket of sports. Everyone found themselves involved in pockets that allowed them the most comfort. It was like high school when you wanted to be at the cool table. I found myself at the table of wisdom. This was not by accident, but I challenged myself to move above the other tables to challenge myself. Without challenge, life becomes a laugh track of what was and the history of your existence.

The wedding happened on a Saturday. It was a beautiful day and the ceremony overlooked a lake. Everything was perfect. Pick was the color of the ceremony and there was not a frown to be found. I did a sappy reading about Love and how it has changed my life. The Pastor continued the service with a music motif and a new life was created before our eyes. They strutted down the aisle and a party was to be had. We enjoyed ourselves through drinks and appetizers. We sat at our seats and the festivities were underway. People were dancing and enjoying themselves in every direction. I was missing my girlfriend and went for a walk. I was met by my brother and his girlfriend. As we moved up from the walk, we noticed my father’s aunt on the floor. She had a medical issue and we were off to the hospital.

The weekend I spent with my father’s Uncle and Aunt. They are the last link to a Grandfather I never knew. They provided details into his life that I could have only dreamed of. I longed to meet him and be a part of his life. But, I understood that was not possible. Everything happens for a reason and I was to learn of this man in this way. I will not give you details that you will cause you to lose interest; but, he was a good man. The thing about old stories is that you have to understand the entire surrounding before you get the point. You can never cast a judgment of anyone else until you are in the exact situation at the exact time. Wisdom comes from understanding the purity of an action and loving the person through their worst decisions. I have greater wisdom not from judging my Grandfather, but from rationalizing what he was trying to do. I understand the character that he had more now than I ever did before the trip. I feel like if we were at a bar, I could buy him a beer and we could have a very productive discussion about my life and the next step.

The cause of death was a blood clot that was jarred from her lung to her breathing cavity. The thing with death is that it settles you. She was 76 and passed away after her favorite song. This caused the entire family to come together in the small waiting room of the Mooresville Hospital. We joined hands and prayed and prayed. We had a nurse with us and tried to bring back any spirit that we could manage. As death goes, it does not allow time for apologizes or good-byes. It comes and goes with only the strength of the personal soul to have understanding that every moment was captured to the most exciting that it could be. That if there was anything to say it was that if everyone knew what was going to happen, nothing would have changed.

I finished my weekend in North Carolina. I was to be a support for my family. My parents cried on my shoulder. I drove across many counties to transport goods and services from different locations. My brother was with me every step of the way and was my release from everything that was. I spent as much time with my father’s Uncle and Aunt as they are my deepest link into my family. They are my deepest thread into where I came from and why I am the way I am. I could have taken the death in a negative way and moped around; but that is not who I am. I am not going to be pessimistic because it is easy. I am going to keep fighting because that is what I am expected to do and that is who I am.

I flew home that evening. I finally had time to decompress and I cried. Like a baby I cried in my seat on the flight from North Carolina to Dallas. I needed to get out the emotion I had taken in. That was the first time I shed a tear. I did not know why I was crying, but I was. Was it for the life that Aunt Vera led and that I would never get to share a moment with her? Or, was it the fact that I finally found our who my grandfather was? It was a journey that I did not think I was about to embark on. But, I did and I am a new person because of it.

Life deals us these challenges. They come in all shapes and sizes. They come everyday and within every decision. These little things challenge and create our character. How we respond and what we do in these circumstances dictate the person we are to be. I think of Jackie Robinson and how he says “The true test of character is how a man acts when no one is looking.” We can say all the right things in the moment, but how do we act independently. When everything is even, do we take the easy way out that is acting the way we would years before? Or, do we challenge ourselves into the unknown future?

Moral: There is not much going on in Moorsville, NC. My Aunt led an amazing life and will always be remembered. Challenge yourself to not follow past actions or who you were in the past and become the person that you dreamt of becoming. Life does not live in the past, but dies there.

Batfest!

Saturday, August 22, 2009

BatFest ’09

A funny thing happened the other day, I was having a completely shit day. A funny thing happened the other day; I had a completely marvelous day. I would like to create the exact same day inside of two different mindsets. Here is the blow by blow.

Woke up at the ass crack of dawn. Hung over. Drank shit store brand coffee with non-dairy creamer and cancer causing sweetner. Listened to horrible music and discussions about people I had never met for the better part of the drive to the park. Started running with a bunch of other over-privileged liberals with their three hundred dollar running shoes and dogs. Put “Rage Against the Machine” on to numb out the boring existence I was so haplessly leading.

I woke up to another glorious day in Austin. I had a bit of a headache from the previous evening festivities and took an Aleve. I walked downstairs to my loving girlfriend, her sister and their Aunt. We enjoyed a great cup of coffee. It was still dark as we discussed the public affairs. The park was busy and the running trail was full of hopeful runners and their determination. I wanted to see how fast I could make it, hoping to get to the end and provide water for the rest of the girls I was running with. Therefore, I listened to “Rage Against the Machine.”

Finished the run. Wanted to vomit. Waiting for everyone else to finish. Just want to get home and shower. When would it be too early to start drinking? What time was my landlord bringing her dog over for us to watch? Why did I want to do that again? Here comes the rest of the crew.

I finished my jog in my fastest time yet. I walked over to the water stand to replenish. I stretched and waited for the rest of the girls to finish. I couldn’t wait to get home as my landlord was bringing her dog over for the weekend.

They finally left. The dog finally stopped barking. Now I can drink in peace. I wonder what is on TV. Oh, that’s right we don’t have it because we wanted to be “active.” All I want is HBO and Shiner. Why does this little mutt keep barking at everything that walks by?

Bonnie, Grace and Aunt Nancy left for a girls’ day shopping. I had the house to myself with the little visitor from my landlord. Her name was “Princess” and she was black little dog. She laid right next to me as I contemplated what to do. Should I write or read? God, I love not having to worry about the temptation of television.

They’re back. The dog won’t keep quiet. Out of beer. Can not stay in this house another moment before I loose my mind. Off to downtown, hopefully there is something less depressing than my current existence. Batfest is going on; hopefully they have good music.

The girls returned with bags of stuff. They had a great time and were napping. I was done writing for the day and decided to head to Downtown to read. I sat under a tree outside of the shadow of the Capital and read. It was a little warm, but in a few months it would be a moment to relish the heat and not stay indoors away from it. Walked down Congress to check on Batfest.

Bike broke. Probably because I ran it into a wall last week. Whatever, I need a new one anyway, this one was depressing. Batfest sucked. It was hot, just people walking around and others selling shit. Walked about 2 miles with the broken bike with the hope to get it home and fix it. Who am I kidding, it is done. This whole day is done. Why the hell did I move to Austin?

My bike is really hard to pedal. It looks like the back tire is rubbing against the frame. I decided to leave Batfest early to get the bike home before dark. Didn’t want to risk making that walk at night, just to be safe. Kept my wristband on to ensure my re-entry as Batfest was very interesting. There were people in every direction. Kids playing and laughing. The sweet smell of lemonade and grilled meat in every direction. This is the reason I moved to Austin, happiness.

Batfest sucked, don’t worry about going. My bike broke. I need to go get beer. I hate this house. I hate my bike. I hate my car. I hate my life. I hate you.

I made it back home. The girls were all taking naps. I decided to try and work on the bike. I was unable to get it fixed and plan on taking it to a bike shop tomorrow. Plan on spending the evening at Batfest and enjoy some cooler weather and good music.

This is what we do to ourselves. This is how we react in situations. This is how we remember different memories. I do not truly remember what day was more accurate, but both of them happened.

Life is a series of memories. The story is up to me and the mood that I am in and who I am talking to.

Batfest was an interesting time. There were many people there. There was a Batman. There was a person with a snake around her heck. There were many people selling any type of arts and craft.

All I ask is that I allow myself to injest everyone in the same light. It is not the fault of anyone at Batfest that I was in a poor mood. Nor was it any one at Batfest’s actions that caused me to be in a bad mood.

Moral: Batfest is interesting. Bob Schneider is still awesome. Do not make anyone you interact with better or worse than they really are. Be honest with yourself and allow yourself to be wrong every once and a while.

Magic

Wednesday, August 26, 2009.

Three Hundred Dollar haircuts, Big Sunglasses and Blackberries.

Can you guess where I am?

This detail will only help Austinites. The location is on Congress. It is just south of the bridge. It is on the same side of the street as the main plant for the Austin American-Statesman. The front windows face the giant, spinning bat that is located at the corner of Barton Springs and Congress.

The name of the radio station that is providing the soundtrack for this experience is “Magic.”

An ad just played that provided a website that I think every adult wishes they had when they were children as I know everyone went through it many times especially during puberty.

www.kidswithdepression.com

My seat reclines and has a control for a back massage. There are multiple speeds and settings, I choose blindly as I am uncomfortable at this time. Not with the chair, just feel a little awkward.

To my left is a mirrored wall. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder how the heck I found myself here. To my right is Bonnie; her eyes are closed as she is enjoying the soothing rhythms of the leather chair. She has much more experience and toggled to the perfect setting that she is used to. A row of these same chairs are lined to the right of Bonnie. They are empty except for an older, Latina with eyes closed. I can’t help but stay as she looks to be in a complete docile state. I watch as I now know what the Dahlia Lama looks like when he meditates and achieves enlightenment.

The bell rings and two women walk in. Their faces shimmer from the sweat pouring out of the plastic on their faces. Their hair does not move a single hair as they swiftly cross the floor and sit down. The hang glider sunglasses they wore through the door have been shifted to above the eyebrow. At a quick glance, it appeared to me that the ladies looked the exact same. With the way the sunglasses sat on their head, they looked to have four eyes. As the women sat down, they tossed their Gucci handbags on an empty seat and barked orders into their cell phone.

“I want to dance with somebody. I want to feel the heat with somebody. . .  .”

That lyric shifted my attention as the DJ from “Magic” spun to the song and it echoed through the locale like an anthem.

At that moment, I looked down and for the first time recognized the person at my feet. She was a very small and petite Asian woman. She had a medical mask on and a nail file in one hand. She was analyzing my foot and studying it like Michelangelo did with “David” or Johnny Depp playing “Edward Scisserhands.”

My location: River Spa and Nail Salon

I was getting a pedicure. It was not my first, and would not be my last. As a guy, I can only describe them as being quite nice. They are relaxing and should be received by everyone at least once.

I looked around the salon and wondered the motif behind each person getting a pedicure. I was to be in a wedding that required me to wear sandals, therefore I wanted my big foot feet to get a bit of a make over. My girlfriend was having a day of beauty before we left for the wedding. The other people looked to be regulars as they were very precise with every detail of the procedure.

I wondered why exactly I needed to make my feet more presentable. Was it because I was scared my feet would be unappealing? Was I worried that someone would not respect me because of my feet? Was it because I just enjoyed a foot massage and bath at the hands of nail specialists?

I am hoping it is the last one.

The music continued and I enjoyed my experience. I wondered why I did not do it more often. I also wondered why so many people of Asian dissent get into the nail business. Is this a correlation or just a fluke occurrence?

To take my feelings a step further I began to analyze myself and the society around me. How many of my actions are dictated simply by the pressures of society? How many things I do on a daily basis just to fit into the rules we have created? How many worries and anxieties are brought on by this pressure?

I run every morning. I enjoy running, but I think I do it more so I do not gain weight. Not to say that I am fat or that I run miles upon miles, but I think that a social pressure forces me to wake up each morning.

I spend money on clothes. I could survive in the same wardrobe that I have and be very comfortable with shorts for every outfit. But, to fit in with the society I am trying to establish myself in, requires new clothes. I spend money on shirts and pants that I borderline like, but more because it is the style that I should wear considering the group I want to belong in.

I watch movies to fit into society. I love to watch films but have been shifting the watching to films that are more relatable to the people I will be socializing with. I find myself criticizing films for reasons that I do not know, but that I remembered from a textbook as being cliché.

I do the same thing with music as stated above.

I have changed and will continue to change everyday. Everyday brings upon a new challenge that I always think is insurmountable, but somehow find a way to succeed. Within these challenges I am tested with each of my past experiences. These experiences pieced with my new knowledge allow me to ascend this life ladder that I think is in place to keep us humble.

These actions become frustrating as I sometimes lose myself. I sometimes forget that I am living for no-one else but myself. I sometimes forget that I am in control of everything that is going on. I sometimes forget that we only live one of these lives and there is nothing out there that should control it outside of your own mind. I lose my grasp on everything that I know when I get so worked up with everything that I don’t.

Moral: “Magic” plays at least one Michael Bolton song every 20 minutes. Pedicures are nice. Live for yourself; never lose yourself to social requirements.