Finding common senses

More lists...I am completely lazy and hate paragraph transitions. But first, a small introduction to the topics at hand. Gift giving, which has been the subject consuming me the last couple of weeks and now it seems that this topic is vastly more important than once thought. It applies to just about any (if not all) normal every day transactions that we run into...every day. We are ALWAYS giving and receiving pieces and parts of ourselves and others. NEXT, sports and music (or wine if I were Mr. Folds)...and the implications they have on searching for your "soul mate".

1. So I don't even know where to start with all of this (and how to keep it somewhat interesting).

2. It is understandable if someone really doesn't like something that you like. But, when the difference in like/dislike is so vastly separated, I have to wonder why. How is it that this song (in this case, Joe Purdy's Wash Away) can have such a positive and wonderful sound to me and the next person sees it as a depressing piece of trash. A piece of trash so horrible it edges on being hated. My first thought is, well if someone hates something I love so much, then they must, by deduction, hate that part of me. That sucks.

3. I also concluded that a song like this (that has such a quick and deep reaction in people must being saying something else as well)...like there is something visceral about its sound that it is possibly culturally based.

4. I need someone that wants to hear me when I get as excited as I did when I first heard the distorted notes from "Faking the Books".

5. I cannot write songs for people if I think they might not like it. I realized tonight that there are 2 main ways I write songs. A. Strumming chords in stupidly idiotic patterns over and over again. B. Playing a riff over and over again in a stupidly idiotic fashion...but of course this is only to layer melody over melody over melody. I like writing way #B. I spent 2 good hours tonight trying to write a song in neither of these ways and I have virtually NOTHING to show for it. The intended muse will NEVER know it. That reminds me of the bracelet gift made of Reardon Metal.

6. Sports are another day's subject.

7. I have this fabulous mosaic sitting on the wall above my computer. I look at it and it reminds me of Central Park. It means a lot to me. It makes me wonder why some people want to hide themselves so much when some people practically beg those same people to come out of hiding.

Finding LP

I think it is interesting that I would be the, err, butt of so many jokes today. Better yet, I should say I was simply-slightly brushed aside too many times. I think a few people have been pumping adrenaline and that is why that are so good at being smart.

1. When someone is angry that means that they are generally feeling like that they are being disrespected.

2. (so that I don't forget) When someone gives something, they wish to change something. A person cannot escape the fact that this is their intention. NOW, tell me how not being successful at that, can be okie dokey with you?

3. The star child is half alien? I like how they say Carl Sagan put it. We would probably be more successful mating with a Petunia as opposed to an alien (because we evolved on the same planet)...or something like that. I suppose I didn't work hard enough on the exercise bike.

4. Self-Esteem is a combo of knowing you are good at something and then knowing that what you are good is worth while. Why does that seem much bigger than common sense?

Catch you cats on the flip-flop.

Quasi-who?

I've been thinking lately that it would be a good idea for me to write more often. Again. Writing is such a nice thing to do too. The fingers grace the black keyboard and it is like playing a weird looking piano. I like the sound of it too when I start typing fast and the great combos are nice as well. You know, the Shift + whatever key to start the sentence off with. Makes me feel like I am accomplishing something...like a great musical piece is just rolling off my fingers with Ben Folds-like precision (I would have named one of the greater masters, but then I would have to go look someone up and...well, it is a long story and I don't feel like being embarrassed...yet again.)

But alas, I still like typing from time to time. It is like stretching in the morning. My fingers used to ache from typing so much, but they kind of miss it now-a-days. They are like, "Oh Michael, how come you don't use us anymore in such a straining manner??" And I say, "because Rick has to have something to do too."

But seriously. Typing seems to be such a wasted quasi-talent at this point in my life.

Day one

So, today is the beginning of a significant week. It is possible that by next Monday I will be looking at myself in a much different way. It is imperative that I work hard and stay focused.