tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30377562009-11-05T04:32:16.272-06:00<i>There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave...you were what I wanted; I gave what I gave</i>Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-5847826763042092142009-09-13T09:45:00.020-05:002009-09-13T14:15:50.516-05:00

It's pretty rare for me to listen to music and not wish I was in some way involved in it; writing it, playing it, giving someone a line that is put into the lyrics and, in rare occasions, dating the singer (Feist!).I've long since given up any idea of doing much more than actually owning an instrument. I'm so out of practice with the guitar that when the rare urge strikes me to play, I'll pick

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-6808838547716460342009-09-06T12:05:00.013-05:002009-09-07T07:52:47.435-05:00

In a brief follow-up to a previous post where I describe my manly moment during an unexpected, small fall during rock climbing, I would like to point out that another such incident has occurred and I took it much better than the first occurrence. Given, this time I knew I was going to be descending, but I was not prepared for the rate at which it happened.At the top of the 30ft wall, it was time

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-83903464282691863542009-08-21T10:17:00.026-05:002009-08-23T20:57:33.098-05:00

I'm not sure if you know this about me, but I fear the inevitable day when our robot overlords seize control of the planet and rule with a mimetic poly-alloy fist. Maybe I watched The Matrix too many times in my younger days. Or maybe I can just read the writing on the wall. I've seen enough in my day to know that when our metallic masters rain hellfire down upon us, we're pretty screwed;

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-39082315716296555262009-08-18T19:46:00.018-05:002009-08-24T21:14:49.256-05:00

I used to want to be a writer when I was younger. I don't know what age it was exactly, but I'm sure it was the same day that I fell in love with words, the sound of pages turning, and learned the pleasure of falling asleep in bed with my mind fully absorbed in those pages. I spent more time than I should have writing stories about just about anything in my notebook when I really should have

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-54862345308033470192009-08-16T22:10:00.007-05:002009-09-14T20:24:24.934-05:00

I've realized recently that I am slightly addicted to social networking sites and there's an unfortunately vast number of them that I log in to anytime I'm on a computer. It's not that I use them for anything especially beneficial; I pretty much leave a silly comment or two for a friend and then I'm done. Though I find getting a message on them is ALMOST as sexy as getting an email.

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-45897879945640637112009-08-08T21:51:00.013-05:002009-09-14T20:21:55.049-05:00

I know the few of you reading this have heard some of my many, many (many) tales about some of the embarrassing moments I've experienced in my life. If you know any of them, then you likely know about the girly scream that I unleashed the time I thought I was about to get hit head-on by a diesel on the freeway when I was, in reality, safely parked at a truck stop and the diesel has just parked

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-31878743081594806772009-07-28T21:31:00.006-05:002009-08-18T20:45:19.547-05:00

I don't know if I ever really wanted children, but sometimes I wish your son was our son.And having avoided it for years, I recently learned your new last name. Your old one was better, but not as good as the one you used to write in your notebooks."Please, remember me; fondly I heard from someone you're still pretty And then they went on to say... That the pearly gates... had some eloquent

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-85045989831972938542009-07-11T23:30:00.008-05:002009-08-18T20:45:26.469-05:00

Last Sunday, my life was in deadly peril! Someone broke into my house late at night while I was upstairs. Events did not unfold as I expected them to.I recently bought a house in downtown Nashville. I bought it knowing full well that the neighborhood was not the best of places to live, but it is one of the few areas the city is dumping money into and they are estimating much improvement and

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-37285586897629711972009-07-06T18:43:00.016-05:002009-08-18T20:45:33.805-05:00

This weekend I found myself reintroduced to the world of 4AM, driving east across the state, bleary-eyed, a single passenger in my Jeep and a motley variety of music blasting from the speakers (Mr. Roboto - a road trip staple - curiously missing from the track list) as we raced to our destination. For most of the week (and the prior), Rhetoric and I had been planning to take advantage of the long

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-131572382966573642009-04-19T20:53:00.011-05:002009-08-18T20:45:51.278-05:00

The second part of my masterful life reevaluation plan (the first being the whole "eating better and getting back into good shape" thing) is to be more active and social, and I've stuffed this summer full of all sorts of delicious activities in anticipation of that. While it looks like I will probably not be able to make it to the 2 week trip to Machu Picchu, I'm trying not to let that bum

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-35429620348519312682009-04-08T22:50:00.015-05:002009-08-18T20:45:59.841-05:00

I've been reading Postsecret for quite a long time now and I enjoy the feeling of being taken into the confidence of so many random people. Yet in all this time - while I can often appreciate what is being said - I never can relate to it. And then I found one that might have been written by me 3 years ago. At last I can relate.

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-57422651218607590232009-02-18T21:08:00.010-06:002009-10-31T15:44:16.080-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about Loba lately. There's no doubt that I've become the person I am today because of her. Poor decisions I made required a lot of later internal reflection that I hope changed me for the better, though they also eventually led to the complete decimation of my self-confidence of which I still struggle with recovering. I used to be arrogant; can you believe it?I often

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-69222933372300830032009-02-13T18:56:00.006-06:002009-08-18T20:48:29.193-05:00

You might recall an earlier entry I wrote about getting healthy. I'll save the specifics, but let's just say I faltered. I aimed too high and melted my feeble wings of wax. In truth, it's that I aimed too high too fast, was unable to withstand the breakneck speed, and all went black. Helpless, I fell, earthbound. When I awoke, I had fallen further than I was when I first started. I

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-37150591024946053992008-07-23T20:29:00.003-05:002009-08-18T20:48:44.264-05:00

I was purging my apartment of absolutely everything I no longer need - if you haven't heard, I'm moving - when I came across a familiar box that I had not really opened in years. I recall the box well, but the contents not at all. Opening it I found some odds and ends that I've had since as long as I can remember. Nothing I need in my everyday life, but small tokens that make me smile.A card

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-46669397043910653532008-06-16T19:11:00.005-05:002009-08-18T20:49:03.108-05:00

I'm rather a large Jeff Buckley fan. Having written a few of my favorite all-time songs, he's pretty high up on my list of musicians. And he left us far too soon.However, that said, I still am mildly uncomfortable when I log into myspace and see this:

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-41459401115531020542008-05-24T11:11:00.013-05:002009-08-18T20:49:27.139-05:00

It's amazing to me how quickly getting out of shape and unhealthy can sneak up on you. In all fairness, it has been a gradual process that has devolved my existence over the last three years, but it was all very subtle from my perception. One moment I was secure in my knowledge that I was still as health as I was a few years ago. As healthy as when I went to Aikido for 8 hours a week, and when I

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-60842603381611362662008-03-23T21:29:00.004-05:002009-08-18T20:57:51.210-05:00

A sound so soft that stillness disturbs that fragile formDeceitful vagrant creeping through the night airBorn to mold like clay and thought transformTo creep up like thunder from a coming storm Yet a sound so subtle can be a tempest made Lest you bend your knee on rain soaked earth Withstand the gale and with no word be swayed Reach deep in the soils to water your rebirth I once basked in the

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-54928412018752711842008-02-18T22:26:00.006-06:002009-08-18T20:53:18.280-05:00

Those of you who know me well will not believe the next words that I say to you...I went dancing.And those of you who know me well likely know my Dancing Story and thus will believe what I say all the less. Yet here we are with the truth laid out for all to see. What's more; I enjoyed it. Enjoyed it enough to do it again the next day. And enough to decide that everyone should dance to the

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-23659096849757378282007-11-14T15:22:00.002-06:002009-08-18T21:00:19.382-05:00

It’s not often I am touched by the words of others. At the risk of sounding shallow myself, I tend to find mere words just that - shallow and without the force needed to move a soul already weighted down by the realities of life. That makes me sound grim but don’t be fooled, I am not grim. Just at this point in my life I have seen and heard and read and said billions upon billions of words.

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-17227134536321439882007-05-10T21:09:00.001-05:002009-10-31T15:45:15.411-05:00

"I don't think I've ever loved anyone that I've lost as much as you loved her"This is what my friend told me and I realized that it was something I never wanted to hear from anyone. It makes the reality too real. My friend - one of my few that I can have more than a superficial conversation with - said this in what I expect was a tender tone.We speak on a lot of subjects, and I'm kept on my toes

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-70651449830185647302006-11-05T17:19:00.002-06:002009-10-31T15:45:30.980-05:00

Today I ran across a headline on the verdict of Saddam's trial. The headline read, "Saddam sentenced to hanging, furious about decision."...No shit.What manner of reaction were they expecting?

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-73400338658100209262006-11-02T11:42:00.003-06:002009-08-18T20:53:57.683-05:00

As I was filling out my bank deposit form today, I noticed it had 7 digits on it, not including the 2 slots for change. If I'm ever in the position where I have to put 7 figures worth of money into my bank account, I'll kiss each and every one of you right on the mouth.Or buy you a hamburger because, as pointed out to me, apparently some of you would prefer that instead. Jerks.

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-9565763451134057822006-10-29T21:21:00.003-06:002009-10-31T15:45:44.300-05:00

I've been doing a variety of creative exercises the last several months to try and try and squeeze my dried-up brain to recover some of my lost creative juices. These are practice tools I've picked up in a variety of places. A surprising lot of the material I've been over deals with nothing more than everyday handwriting and how the right and left hemispheres of the brain deal with it; the left

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-58736363448549132072006-10-20T21:38:00.001-05:002009-08-18T20:56:03.964-05:00

Please heed my advice:There's a reason the back of my car turns different colors and it's not just to be festive. Sure, I'm aware the holiday season is soon upon us, but I don't celebrate this early. When my car begins to light up red on both sides, that doesn't mean my car is powering up so that I may speed up and that it's safe for you to do the same. In fact one might call it the very opposite

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3037756.post-22394597460710813532006-10-14T17:22:00.001-05:002009-08-18T20:57:39.811-05:00

As I may have previously mentioned, I've been feeling rather old lately. I've decided it's not because I actually am old, but because things in my life's proximity are making me feel that way. Today, music has made me feel old.I was introduced to music at a young age. When I was growing up, my mother always had the radio on while she got ready for work and I ready for school. She also had it on

Dachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05412702150749211609noreply@blogger.com2