“What’s amazing is when you can feel your life going somewhere. Like, your life just figured out how to get good. Like, that second.”

Well, folks. It seems I’m caught up in the post holiday doldrums before the holidays are even over. I don’t mean to be and I’m doing my darndest to run it out…or something. Thanksgiving (and the surrounding days) were a really darn good time. Time with family and chosen family really does this guy good. From stuffing myself with turkey and gluten free pumpkin pie (shout out to my dad), to farmer’s market wandering, excellent crisp autumn runs next to the lake and singing karaoke twice in a week, I’m sort of overwhelmed with all the awesome. Of course, the let down after such good times is a little prickly. So, obviously, I’ve been spending a lot of time re-watching episodes of My So Called Life. It makes me think about how good we all must have been at being teenagers when at the time all we could wait to do was live alone and be smart and broke and beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, I love living alone. Like, so much.

Now I’m here at the ole’ day job procrastinating and thinking about the fact that I’m procrastinating about writing an artist statement as well in my outside-of-day-job world. So really, what better thing to do than write a self-congratulatory blog entry full of run-on sentences, I ask you?

NEwayz, I’m off to actually do some work (maybe) and listen to the new Tom Waits album on repeat (definitely) for the rest of the morning.

School night blues.

I’ve been thinking of my mom a lot since the story went up on OP. I feel like I have some sort of intense secret now that our family stuff is all over the internet. When I saw her yesterday it was hard to look her in the eye. We joked around about things instead of talking about anything real, she chided me about who I am dating and not dating, told me I’m her favorite. Before I left, she held my hand for a long time and didn’t seem to realize how tight her grip was, how cold her fingers, how she wasn’t letting go. She talked me right out of the room, told me to drive safe, did not say she loved me. As I stalked down the hallway and out onto the cold asphalt and swirling November wind I could still hear her, calling out, holding on. I felt my chest left with her, curled up on the edge of that bed like a sleeping puppy. Warm and anxiously dreaming, trying desperately to keep her warm. To keep her here.

When I got home I listened to Ani Difranco for the first time in years and sobbed into the food I cooked a sweet and patient friend and I for dinner. Because its like, important to feel your feelings INTO your food. Also, because when feeling feelings or whatever I like to just take it to the next damn level all the time.

Happy Wednesday. It’ll be dark in an hour or so, and I’m going to try and keep it together tonight, just so you know.

November

Well, folks its that time of year again. Turkey day, scarves, running a 5k, shaving off my beard and growing a (hopefully handsome) mustache for charity and writing a novel in a month. You know, no big deal. Just keeping my cheeks full of proverbial nuts this winter.

I just got done with a fantastic overnight trip to Canada, and upon my return hosted a chili cook-off next to a beautiful lake in Seward park. Consequently, I won my own cook-off, which was awkward, and hilarious.

Also, there’s that piece I mentioned being nervous about. Hope you don’t secretly read my blog, family members! Check it out on originalplumbing.com at this little link right here

A perfect park for cut-throat chili competition.