The way things are supposed to be clouds the vision of dreamers.

Save the Dreamer - he holds the key. He used to have disciples and duplicates but they have died off or, worse, faded into complacency. Save the Dreamer - he is our hope. They saw him last year and he coughed a few times - have you ever heard the Dreamer cough? Sickness is a horrible sign, a sign of weakness. How can we save him? We who barely dream or are stuck in the mire of disturbing reality can barely pin down who he is - much less take it upon ourselves to save him. We understand very little, but this we do know: if we lose him, we too are lost.

***

a character:

The pulsing click of chalk on the blackboard punctuates his daydreams - each white, powdery molecule catching the light from the window as it floats to the floor. These are vehicles or clouds or a blizzard. Droning hum in the back of his ear makes a backdrop for home insvasion or jumping out of airplanes. He thinks longingly of a cigarette but no he is not allowed. It is forbidden, and he would probably smoke too much and get sick. Ah - but the ritual, the tapping of the pack to settle the tobacco, the selection of a perfect cigarette from beheath the gold wrapper - smelling the thin cylinder, rolling it between his long, dry fingers, the striked match, the draw...Just holding that cigarette between his fingers and feeling the smoke curl up, around his neck and just past his eyelids - this is cool.
And he wanted very much to be cool.
He had growled obscenities at the airline stewardess who came flying down the aisle to extinguish his fresh Marlboro - his personal slice of Americana. He had spent a night in the can for that little stunt but didn't regret it. He had smoked on a commercial jet liner. He had defied the odds and the law and thumbed his nose at every addict who did not posses the balls to join him.
He would think of that episode and incline his head and brush his chin with the side of his index finger - the closest thing to smiling he knew how to do.

Life as I know it (for now)

What does it take for five people to come together? How much time until they realize their purpose and can find the courage to act on it? What if it was spontaneous? What if the time you were given to decide to act, to move, to live - was the time it takes for eleven tones to echo through a hallway - in the flurry of boots, suspenders and throwing coats and helmets and masks - the rumble of diesel ignitions and automatic bay doors - the decision is made. In the back of the truck amidst fastening airpacks, grabbing flashlights, listening to garbled radio traffic - the decision is made to do something. I'm thinking as I stare out the window at the world rushing backwards, red strobe lights throbbing through my eyes - I'm thinking of what I have to do...kick the door, dismount the truck, re-tighten the airpack, find the tools...which tools...halligan, axe, the irons pack...will I be ordered to take the hydrant - grab the wrench, the appliance, wrap the hose...injuries, we'll need the O bag, maybe a backboard and straps, heart monitor, medbox...

We're on scene - I'm here there's fire in the building, flames bursting from the garage...We made the decision together to get on the truck, to come here - our masks are on, our voices distorted -and the order comes down to go in the house and search for victims. Again things move quickly and I'm stretching safety hose to take with us, we kick open the door and smoke boils out - we can't see anything. Even as we dive to our knees and rush inside, as I follow my officer and yell at the man behind me to keep feeding me hose, the thought crosses my mind that this is crazy. I'm doing it - I've entered the door and am taking about as much risk as my decision process can take me to. I can't see anything, the battery in my flashlight just went dead and my officer is moving faster then I can keep up with. We're inside for maybe 5-6 minutes before going to the basement and doing it again. We didn't find anyone - everyone got out. In retrospect it's strange how little thought anyone gave to the risk we were about to take. Granted there's not exactly spare time to collect your thoughts on a fire scene, but still...there was no huddle, no whispered prayer, no last minute instructions. It was just....go. We all expected to be fine and to come out of that house with no problems. And we did.

In Recruit School someone told us that when a rescuer brings out a victim alive from a fire it is all over the news and he is called a hero. He is what people picture when they think of a fireman. However, his courage is no greater, his risk no more real then that of those countless firefighters who enter a burning building everyday to search for victims who are not even there.

I am addicted to this job - I am addicted to trying to become better at this job. Almost everything plays second chair to working...I can't fathom not going on as many calls as I can - because somehow I think that there will be a call when my involvement could be crucial so I have to be there. Maybe it's a rookie thing and I will get over it, and realize that the calls will never stop coming, the tones never stop ringing, the adrenaline never stop flowing.

Breaking the Addiction

4,584.

This was the number of profile views I had before I deleted my Myspace account this morning. This was a snap decision - a whim - much like the one which spurred me to create a Myspace account in the first place. In retrospect there are now several people who I have no idea how to get in contact with if I wanted to without Myspace and I already feel the pangs of withdrawl, but that's okay. It is a strange feeling - the absence of something so integral in my daily routine.

It also has something to do with me trying to find the source of the "writing-droubt" I've been experiencing for the past few months. This may very well be it - I can be online, I can work on a computer without checking for comments, for messages, for some random person's new pictures. It's a good feeling. I already feel that I'm regaining some lost intelligence. :)

Damien Rice has a new cd - "9." Just taking it for a test drive via streaming audio now....not too shabby so far.

It snowed last night - unexpectedly. I left an apartment at 11.30 and stepped into a swirling, frigid, typhoon of a blizzard. By 1.25am I was driving our Rescue truck through the streets of Cheney which were covered by over an inch of snow. When I woke up this morning everything had melted and you would never know winter had delivered its opening salvo.

My birthday

I turned 21 last weekend - an event that I had been looking forward to for...well, a very long time. Up until not very long ago, I had a very specific picture of what I wanted my big 21 to look like and it involved a LOT of adult beverages beginning at an hour that would make Alice Cooper ashamed. Who knows why - why does anyone go on a "21 run"? I suppose because they can and because it's a rite of passage. Not too long ago I went on a call to a fraternity house where one of the members had just returned from his 21 run and had drank 21 shots in less then one hour. He was in bad shape - crazy.

So due to some very good influences from friend jon and parents and a dash of conviction i changed my mind as the day began to loom close and decided to "keep 'er classy." I had fire academy all day so we went to dinner and a 21 and over jazz club and a movie. I enjoyed a martini at the jazz club, some wine with dinner and a bit of scotch back home. Classy and enjoyable. Against the grain, people!

Haha, a little cinema.

A touch of music - and waiting for friends.

Well, that is I'm waiting for friends to come home, not...not friends in general - not that i ever turn them away....

Haha

-Don't tap on the glass, the fish don't like it. It vibrates their world and shakes things out of place. "Boom! Boom!" your oily finger slams into the walls of their carefully structured ecosystem, bringing chaos to their order and menace to their peace. And even after you've left, there is a smudge on the glass - a memory of your uninvited intrusion and a hindrance to their vision.

Having trouble holding on. There is much to do and far too little time to fit it all in. Priorities are about to be struck, a friend or two about to be disappointed...

Again, i can't connect. If I can't connect with you - it's very hard to feel the reason for being friends. It's hard to love when I'm not sure if I know you. Possible but hard - and draining when I see you connecting with others so that I begin to doubt my place.

Don't tap the glass.

That's it. This is what is wrong.

-I can't connect-

**Galen likes this photo for some reason** I think it was air guitar, or i was just pounding the bed...yeah.

Haha, what a lame post that was.

Okay so here's the scoop - I got home from work today and I felt lonely. Not sure why - you know that unexplained loneliness that creeps up on you and then just kind of sits in the back of your mind? That sort. The gloomy sort. Ugly. I think it may have something to do with wanting a relationship. I'm starting to get a little impatient - tired of waiting for that perfect person, and second guessing myself hoping I haven't passed her by.

10:11 and I should go to sleep. Four AM comes early on a Thursday morning in the rain. Goodnight.

So I think trevor was trying to hint at something. Quick sterile update:

Fifty-nine days until my 21st birthday. This is very exciting to me as fun shall be had, experimentation shall be undertaken, and trevor and i shall become rich through the brewing of incredible beers.

For anyone who hasn't heard and for some reason still visits this blog despite the absence of updates - I have been hired by the Cheney Fire Department for their resident program. This is exquisite news (no congrats, please) and hopefully the beginning and end of my "career search." To interview for this position I had to leave Disney early - July 27th instead of August 18th. Truthfully I was glad to be leaving early at the time - ready to move on from my 'not so glamorous' job, tired of the 6-7 day weeks, tired of not having a car. Sad to leave the people tho - sad not to experience graduation and finish out having gone through the whole program with them. It was a good experience tho - and I would do it again had i known beforehand what it was really going to be like.

Anyway, after two weeks of doing not working (fantastic) financial uncertainty forces me to find work again. Currently I'm going between warehouse work and doing maintenance labor for a school district. Ah well, only a week and a half or so and then it's fun with steve and off to save people in september. On that note - i'm back into running every day. Best way of betting in shape - bar none. Mix distance running with sprinting hills and 'gassers' - it works. Also i don't know what it is about the gym in Bonney Lake - but i feel like the weight workout i get there is just a much better quality one then i get anywhere else. Like their weights are more...dense or something. meh, k i'm out.

GQ, buddy. GQ.

So this is where we are, this is how far we've come.

To write honestly is better then to write well.

I am rereading Blue Like Jazz (recommended) - this coupled with an early-morning romp through this month's issue of GQ garned a slight disdain for most everybody's (and mine) attitude. Everybody likes Johnny Depp. He IS cool - not that he possessed the attribute, but he actually defines it. Depp does whatever he wants, wears what he wants, lives where he wants, and says what he wants. He always has a cigarette, he used to be addicted to drugs and be in a rock band, he owns an island and plays pirates in movies. We like him because he doesn't care what you or I think about him. He is like noone else and as a result we all want to be like him.

Why does 99% of the population have so much fear of being their own person? Why are we so dominated by GroupThink? Maybe because identifying oneself by the group offers so many 'outs.' You can't really be held responsible for anything if you're only a small part of such a large organization. After all, if you can't singlehandedly change the direction of the body you can't be accountable for its shortcomings - just wave a blind finger in the direction of: the group. It's enough to make you hate marketing and huge corporations and shady governments.

Today during our pre-work banter in the cafeteria, someone said to me that Disney has become greedy and cheap. Without thinking, I replied, "They always do." Was that a socialist thing to say?

Hmm, what is that, almost six weeks of silence? Amazing.

The sky is a strange bluish gray and the flags in the next parking lot are blowing vigorously - maybe we'll have a hurricane. Maybe the sky always looks like this when it's cloudy at dusk - i wouldn't know cause i'm always working at this time of night.

This morning I threw away $12 in meat because I left them on the counter when I went to work. Did not smell good, actually it smelled quite foul.

Shortly before throwing away said meat - I called the Grand Floridian resort to try to schedule a massage. While being given several transfers and waiting on hold it occurred to me that i had better things to do with my money then spend $100 to have someone push on my back for 50 minutes.

Bose Triport headphones: expensive, but next on my list of big ticket aquisitions. Such a rich sound...mama mia!...

Ok, show of hands - who hates not having a car? (puts hand up) I know i should feel guilty about global warming and pollution and noise and fossil fuels and heat and road rage, but honestly cars are ridiculously awesome. No, take it back...modes of transport...ways to GET ANYWHERE are ridiculously awesome. I would saddle up a burro and ride it at this point. Where does one get a burro? Anyway, if i could find me a crackerjack to give me a burro i would saddle it and ride to that starbucks across the street from the seattle library.

Seattle v. Orlando...Yeah....Orlando wins for rollercoasters and dolphins, but seattle has the knock out punch for atmosphere and lack of tourist families who all wear the same color shirt so they won't lose each other.

Just wrapped up a 21-day stretch with no days off...'Twas tiring, but as jon and i said when we arrived here - we'll follow disney to hell and back. haha, o how little we knew. :) Heard an interesting stat the other day, aprox. 10% of males who work for disney are NOT gay. Obviously an exaggeration, but really that's what it feels like. Two guys at my restaurant have "a fancy" for me...one is a manager...hmmm...this is new...

July 1 - shuttle launch at cape canaveral - be there or be square.

Irish Music

I'm sorry that I've lost you -

It makes me sad that when I think of you,
I wince and close my eyes.

I'm sorry that you're forever gone.

When they play the final song and the stage is finally cleared, I will still feel those last few unplayed notes. My ears will remember the movement that ended so abruptly and strain against the buzzing silence, desperate to find a more satisfactory conclusion.

Sixty days in front of a hundred thousand, here we go! Tap-dancing through bar floors, river dancing on bar tops, finding our rythms among the beating of hearts. Click your heels, snap your fingers (like this!) - just join me.

I've found my soul dancing through a green place called Ireland. You are there too, and it's lovely to know that, if only in Ireland, we are still friends.

Fast food makes for an angry stomach...

In memorium...
This morning I had a stomach.

2:00 pm: I dined on a large Whopper meal at Burger King.
(author's note: I haven't consumed burger king for literally lifetimes and fast food in general for months - except this morning)

9:30 pm: my stomach killed itself.


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

7:43 am: I tried no less then six times to take off in Galen's bmw from a stop. I know how to drive a stick and clutch, I just don't know how to not be in 3rd gear. As a result of this humiliation, my inner driver killed himself but was revived when my dad drove fast in my old car.

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

9:29 am: The auditorium I was taking my chemistry final in was plunged into darkness when the power went out. Commence taking final by cell phone backlight. Pretty sure half the class took the opportunity to exchange tests/answers/"wheredapartyat"

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

12:33 am: Realize i gave galen my more essential supplies, and he won't be back in town until sunday. crap.

**********************
Alright so: the grand adventure to Florida is about to begin. Orlando beckons with open arms promising adventure, warmth and sunshine, surfing, new people, and hopefully a few hurricanes thrown in to kick it up a notch. It was a little sad leaving school today - saying goodbye sucks, but goodbye is never forever...

Had a little chat with my dad today about the role of Christians in politics/social reform. My concern lies with Christians who use the sphere of political influence to throw vast amounts of money, time, and other valuable resources at agendas such as prayer in public schools instead of the more vital cause of loving people.

"People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people."

So I just have to say something because it seems we all do this when the cinema has great impact on us. V for Vendetta - I find it extraordinary and I give it my full endorsement. The film raises plenty of relevant questions during these turbulent times when our own government continues to assert its power in the name of security at home and the fight against tyranny abroad. The only problem is that I'm not sure what to do now. I stand fairly convinced that bigger government only eventually leads to less freedom and a 'babysitting' attitude of the state. On the other hand, conservatives only seem to appeal to values and integrity as a means of attaining control of a different kind that marginalizes dissent and hides behind the shields of faith and tradition. So where do we go to make a difference? Is it impossible to break out of this choice between lesser evils? Is it time for a revolution? What kind? Should Christians even be concerned with governments and nations and states and the formation of history? Or should our focus be on the individuals in our immediate lives, no matter the format of our reality?

Sometimes -- the best thing to do is just change your shirt.

Blender

To commemorate mixed feelings and snow in March. To wonder at the awesomeness of God. To question where I have made my path...

I look to the future with excited anticipation, feeling the promise of airport terminals and concourses leading to new chapters. Sunlight which can't help but warm, and adventures promising new life to be found...

Tragedy as I feel the familiar tear of friendship. Bleeding vulnerably I don't know how to find a suitable bandage. Lost in the unknown it is the worst sort of pain coupled with the uncertainty of the prematurely opened - will they survive? Probably, but damage has been done here...

Exasperation marrs my evenings amongst the struggles of knowledge and long-term planning. Grappling with meaning and will and action...

God watches me, lifts my eyes, and strengthens my stride. Few answers but more peace amidst the questions.

Two days ago I spent 3 minutes pondering whether my politics teacher really has any clue what she is talking about. World War II ended in 1919? And why does she keep stopping to read from a piece of paper? Last nite I tried to employ some jibberish about Marx and Engals in an argument with Trevor and my worst fears were realized: I'm being fed poop on a stick! Ok, so it's not that bad - but I ask you what good is what we learn in school if it can't successfully be used against those smarter then ourselves?

Random tip:
The best Irish whiskey (Midleton Very Rare - voted by the New York Times) costs $125 a bottle. As opposed to Jack Daniels which costs $20 and finds its origins in Tennessee. Using cave water (I think that's supposed to be a good thing). Interestingly, ol' JD has gone down ten proof. That should upset the alcoholics out there...

In the weather:
Spring, snow, and love are all in the air. Orlando gets the Spring, Galen gets the love, and I get snow.

Dangit.

Morning After

Just for comparison...one of these things is not like the other - la dee dah...

Typical morning after a saturday of rugby. Luckily my face got off easy this week. Haha, everything hurts - now where's that bag of frozen peas?

Haha, o jimminy - the hilarity of a life...

I needed to buy my rugby insurance today so I can play in tomorrow's tournament.
So I went online
Only to find
That Sports Illustrated took all my money with their automatic renewal program.

They're giving it back
In ten to
twelve weeks.
That's nice of them.

Dang, I meant to cancel that thing this time last year......

Today i was called an "undercover asshole."

that's new.

Over tuna, lettuce, and a banana

Well, kids, this is it. I'm nearly broke yet again due to my inaction and subconscious unwillingness to get a j-o-b. I used to rely on plasma donation to pay for small bills and recreation, but now I flatly refuse since I learned that doing so sucks out my amino acids - effectively rendering all those hours in the gym useless, meaningless, and generally without value. This leaves me with little income and now I'm staring $85 in rugby fees in the face wondering how that's going to happen. At least I can't blame anyone, I bring it on myself.

In other news, the realization that I'm leaving for Florida in four Saturdays hit me full-force yesterday bringing oodles of excitement and general euphoria. Six months of paid adventure/vacation with only a 40 hour per week obligation to provide some service to Disney. Learning to surf, finding a way to sail, avoiding sharks, and making friends with celebrities shall be done. I love the feeling of being on the edge of something new - especially when that something new involves airport terminals. You can't not smile in an airport terminal...unless you're late...or you were randomly selected for additional screening...or someone stole your bag...or you foolishly agree to hold someone else's suspicious black parcel while they "run to the restroom"...but other then that, smiles abound in the airport.

It also hit me yesterday how many things I want to do, and how life isn't really formatted to allow it. Beyond my plans of bull running, traveling, cruising, island ownership, and heroic ends - I also find butler academy (http://www.butlerschool.com/) extremely enticing, tho very pricy ($15,000 for an eight week course), as well as chauffeur training (NYFD trains/hires chauffeurs to operate the trucks. I think. Crazy.), personal protection, firefighting, athletic training, bartending, sailing, and gardening. I could spend a few years getting all the training, sure, but I could never really experience life in one of these roles as they require a loyalty and dedication that doesn't lend itself to trading managing an estate for a stint aboard a yacht in Australia.
It's also an interesting problem to think of class status. My family has been quite successful in attaining a comfortable position monetarily - something I am definitely thankful for and respect. However, pretty much all of my wild schemes involve some service job, and nothing (save personal protection at a high level) even flirts with a six figure salary. I know my parents are probably ok with that, and I'm ok with that - but it still seems strange to think of it as a step "down." Aren't children traditionally supposed to keep pressing upward through the social jello in a quest for more security and even more-improved lives for their own posterity? Hmmm...

O, and if I have time before I leave for florida -between tests and rugby - I'm learning to salsa. Tango is a little too bubble-encroaching for me, I'm a-thinking...for now anyway.

If I don't know you, you're welcome to buy my car. :) Fire me an email and we'll discuss it.

O, and I have a wedding fund. Certain somebody's are getting married in May...they happen to live in canada making it mucho expensivo to get there. So yah, if you find $800 under your couch, I know where you can spend it. Haha, mk enough begging and mooching. Off you go, vaminos!

Good Days are Made of Mail

Let's see, that would be three pieces of good-quality mail I got today. One of which was a tiny, blue laminated slip informing me of a package. Package? Valentines Day is still a little ways off, and I'm not expecting anything...

A quick glance at the label: BMW NORTH AMERICA INC.

And at this point I start screaming, check my pants, and start screaming again. I didn't expect a brochure in response, much less a package. After much comotion and gathering of friends and neighbors, I proceeded to tear into my parcel - wild thoughts of car keys and rare jewels bouncing around in my head. Alas, there were no keys nor instructions where to pick up my beloved M3. Instead, my hand held a neat, black box emblazened with BMW and a smattering of German enclosed in bubble wrap. The box contained a collector's model M3 Cabrio on a stand and a letter signed by Edward A. Robinson, CEO of BMW Americas Region.

::

Dear Matthew,

Thank you for your letter and your enthusiasm for BMW. Having a recent college graduate and a pending hopeful graduate, I can understand the challenges of today's business environment after dedication to four years of study. I'm sure you'll be very succesful in whatever field your career develops.

As I also reflect on today's economy, I know you can appreciate my not being able to satisfy your request. Hoipefully, the enclosed token will keep your spirits for BMW alive and, when the time is appropriate, you will think of BMW to satisfy your driving pleasures.

Thank you for your continued interest,
Best Regards,
(signature in INK)

::

Haha, well it makes me happy. And as far as a PR stunt goes, it worked - i'll definitely be thinking of BMW to satisfy that driving pleasure.

Next up: Ferrari, Lambo, and Mercedes

I love the sensation of pushing my body to the limit: the point where my mind stops its whispered complaints and my lungs gasp automatically for air they're not sure what to do with, my stomach convulsing in rebellion. Such a feeling of accomplishment and victory that comes with simply not quitting. My morning workout was good, rugby conditioning even better, and now as I munch the fuel for my evening workout - everything hurts but feels really, really good.

I am 90% sure I'm going to switch my major from English to Athletic Training. Shocking, I know. Basically, my dad mentioned something about it and I gave it about 2 seconds thought before dismissing it as crazy talk because of all the sciences involved (not strong points for me). But a couple days later it hit me as kind of silly not to pursue it what with my great level of interest in the subject and passion for the area of fitness. I love to write, and always will but have realized that I am really not seriously interested in writing as a career. Plus, the training and knowledge could come in very handy if I enter the field of EMS/firefighting - and I can't deny the security that comes with a degree in a growing field as opposed to english which is very open-ended and affords few secure positions.

I can't find my headphones -- might they be behind my desk? Hmm? Perhaps hidden in the shadows behind my desk? I think they might be. Woop, and there they are.

I am officially musically frustrated. Some people absolutely need a coffee fix every day, others enjoy chocolate or collect movies. Me? I am all about music and I find my collection with a serious crater due to computer crashes and hard drive failures. I lack the funds to seriously begin replacing the lost gems of my collection and sample the latest offerings from the world's artists, hence musical frustration.

The seahawks...yeah...it's disappointing to say the least, and I personally blame the officiating, number 86, and what turned out to be home field advantage for the steelers. But, to sit and stew about it isn't the answer - it's time to get ready for next season.

Words are screaming to be written in stanzas of good intent. My eyes are closing trying to bring what I can together - grasping at what combinations depict my state of mind. Nothing comes, or very little and frustration conquers all. Darkness is thicker for the newly blind - who cannot see the range of picture like one born without sight. Distracted by what he lost, he forgets to find what he's gained.

I think I'm Getting Lucky

Charming.

I got pulled over last night. I can't believe I didn't see him - I was just cruising along, on my way to PBR - and suddenly a set of Crown Vic headlights were reading my license plate. I never miss them! I can smell them! This guy musta been wearing the power stripe. Good guy that cop - looked at my license for about 30 seconds and told me to slow down. Seriously, it was over so fast - I didn't even have time to start looking for my registration before he turned me loose.

A few hours later I was perfecting my driving (180's, 360's, general sliding for fun) in, er, 'adverse' conditions (ice and snow covered parking lots). The curious patrolman smiled at my explanation and said "be careful." Winter sports...mmmm...

Things I want to do...dreams, you might call them. Stuff you will have to be okay with:

-Run with the bulls in Pamplona
-Cinco de Mayo in Mexico
-Skydiving
-BASE jumping
-Learn to surf
-Randomly distribute cash to shoppers in the mall at Christmas time
-Have a conversation with a sitting President
-Protest Ignorance
-Stand Alone. Often.
-Visit every continent
-Learn to sail
-Buy an Island
-Be honest
-Buy Trevor a Rolex
-Write letters instead of emails
-Travel overseas on a whim
-Have a house with a room named "The Library"
-Run across the field at a professional baseball game
-Don't get arrested
-Give my life for someone else

20-10

Thus ends Seattle's post season woes and unchartered territory: the division finals at home.

Oooo yeeaahhh...

Over the Next Ridge

Better Sides of Cheney