Last night at the ShowBox SoDo I finally got to check out a live show by a band I've listened to for many years, Taking Back Sunday. It was a little worrisome watching all the misspent youth in line and then they only had the railing for the beer section on the small setting. But it turns out it didn't matter to me at all. The opener was Envy on the Coast who I'd never heard of before. They were definitely an opening band. They had a good presence but no consistency in the music. More experience maybe? Anberlin played a great set before TBS came on. I've seen them before and they brought a fabulous energy. And since they played a lot, all these weak Seattle moshers couldn't stand the heat so they had to bounce out of the pit early leaving plenty of wriggle room which I immediately ransacked. It was one of those really ludicrously hot pits that's just rank armpits, swinging elbows, flinging sweat drops, ninja farts, and the collective shouting of choruses in each others faces, mixed at 120 degrees and sprayed occassionally by water from the bouncers on the rail. The wonderful diversity of my circle of friends was further reinforced last night when I enjoyed a little misunderstanding. My friend was having work done on her car and so I asked "How's the tranny in your car? Did everything turn out okay?" to which she responded "Nikki is great, his boobs turned out fabulous!". Yes, I know I should have been more specific. Afterwards I met up with a different group to wish @rnjurk a Happy Birthday. Who knew she had hot friends? And why has she been hiding them? To cap off the night, I got to watch the indomitable Berkies doing the shuffle. Mi Vida Loca.

Taking Back Sunday is one of those bands I've been wanting to see for literally years. Finally I get the chance to mosh to their music. I'm super hot, sweaty, buy having a great time as Anberlin finishes and I move up to the pit. These pits are alwayss full but worth if it if you can stand the heat. For a phoenix boy, this is nothing. Lots of great dancing and "Hey how ya doings" take place. Excited to rock. See you on the other side.

Self-reflection is both something to be craved and something to be feared.

Sometimes your happiness depends solely on understanding your own inner self and the desires we so often bury deep behind our many masks.  Other times, we only find happiness when we accept the image of ourselves we only long to be true, grasping and gasping in blissful ignorance.

I'd rather waste my whole life pretending than have to forget you for one whole minute.
 -- Crushcrushcrush by Paramore

It's funny to me how I can hear a song for the 300th time and for some reason I finally hear the phrase I've perceived so many times before. Finally, without awareness, my mind assigns meaning and the full force of the words slams into me like a freight train in that single instant.  My inner self falls to its knees, outstretched and seeking, as a silent shout resounds.

Am I less because I fail to pretend? My choice to forget brings me no less pain, only removes the option for shared suffering and the balm of friendship and understanding.  How does one find the power to pretend? If ignorance is such solace, why so elusive?  For some small moment, I'd like to believe that you can not know.  To my ever-revolving dismay, I find in the rowdy raucous ruckus of my intellect that my grip remains resolved.

You can't not know.

Why is it that when things are the craziest, the zaniest, the most hectic, that is when the rush comes on?

I've recently been through a move and we all know how much that can suck. But it has also been a little invigorating. It was a chance to re-think how I live, where I live, and in small ways, how I spend my time.

Summer time and the wind is blowing, outside in lower Chelsea.
And I don't know what I'm doing in this city,
The sun is always in my eyes,
It crashes through the windows, and Im sleeping on the couch,
When I came to visit you,
That's when I knew that I could never have you,
I knew that before you did,
Still I'm the one who's stupid
And there's this burning, like there's always been,
I've never been so alone, and I've never been so alive.

-- Motorcycle Drive-By by Third Eye Blind

The onset of summer has brought lots of changes besides the living situation. The wonderful sunlight lifts spirits and lubricates social desires. The people-watching as I run through the park is just fantastic. Of course, the desire to sit in front of a computer and crank some code is constantly at war with the outdoors concept.

Right now, I'm spending energy to learn several new technology platforms. The work is fairly isolated, mostly because I have so few people who care to talk the tech at this level in my life these days. I find that spending my day in something the rest of the world finds uninteresting doesn't help me with the small talk necessary to socialize at the end of the day. So I signed up to play in a kickball league.

Hopefully they have a spot available.

There is nothing quite so poignant in all my mental images as those times I've slept with someone. I'm not talking about sex, you pigs. I mean real slumber. Climbing into bed, cuddling, curling up, not knowing where to put the arm, breathing the used oxygen of another, rolling over, throwing the leg, everything bedtime related.

When it comes to taking the measure of a relationship, it seems that sleep is an oh so crucial factor. It is in our restful state where we are most vulnerable, most intimate. Everything we deal with in our waking life is either resolved or reinforced when we finally slumber.

To expose yourself like that to another, to relinquish ourselves, can be a great gift. It can also be a reflection of the maturity, or lack thereof, in our relationships. The intimacy found while sleeping can be so much greater than during other physical acts (read: snogging, skinny-dipping, or shagging). While we might have no problem with getting down and dirty with someone in the heat of the moment, it can be a different matter altogether to wake up next to that same person knowing you stole all the covers and they froze all night while listening to you snore.

And even though we may take sleeping with our partner for granted, it's through these kinds of shared social systems that we build and nurture our relationships, and perhaps uncover the underlying meaning of our lives.

- Dr. Paul C. Rosenblatt as quoted in the New York Times by Kate Murphy

I know that one of the things that I miss most about previous relationships is the sleeping together. The little give and take as we get comfortable, the rituals as we prepared to come together and let all our facades fade. It is these good moments that told me of the strength of our connection, it is the lack of those moments that signaled to me of its death.

No one has ever accused me of having an active libido, on the contrary I've been kicked to the curb more than once for my fleeting interest in sex. But my longing for a cuddle, for someone to share sleep with, that has always been and remains as full in force as ever.

What's a guy got to do for good snuggle these days?

If you could understand the What or the Why, which would you choose?

In this small town parking lot carnival we call life, we are faced with the choice to be ignorant, absurd, or happy everyday. Do we down two chili dogs and hop on the spinning octopus or head straight for the zipper? If that ridiculous relationship that is so clearly a Very Bad Idea is the carnival equivalent to riding the Gravitron after cotton-candy, why do we always ignore our better senses and jump right on?

Recently, I've had an opportunity to reflect on this conundrum and completed a small study in the Word which gave me new mental fodder on which to chew. My current position then, is this:

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
- Matthew 6:21

That was the support for my conclusion, let me elucidate a little.

My thinking is that we focus to much on the What and not enough on the Why? We know what we want, we don't consider nearly enough why we might want it. Whether we are considering our own stumbling, or the ramblings of others, we too infrequently seek after the deeper motivation.

Back to the carnival and the bumper cars: we tell ourselves we enjoy the rush, the excitement, the feeling of freedom as we climb onto a rusty death-trap that has been assembled during the night by a chain-smoking, minimum wage worker who lives in the back of a truck. We do this again and again, only stopping to stuff ourselves with sugar, lard, and reconstituted meat-products. We pay for the privilege to risk our safety, to teeter on the brink of unleashing a technicolor yawn all over the shoes of strangers, and we do it with a smile and laugh.

Is it that we'd rather pursue happiness than just be happy? Or perhaps we don't really know why we do it, we just know we like it. We don't probe into the why, we just fixate on the what.

So what about when we are making rational choices? Weighing the pros and cons, making lists, and all that boring passionless stuff we usually deride each other for doing? In my experience we can be just as logical and reasoned about a what as we can be passionate. Just because we're thinking clearly doesn't mean we're asking the right questions or basing our decisions on sound foundations. Let's be honest, we can justify almost anything if we want it bad enough.

If you can ignore the sweeping generalization, we like the idea that ignorance is bliss. The world is frightening, and the secret plots and schemes of our inner minds even more so. I know as much as most about how disturbing it can be when I finally realize the real reason why I've done a thing.

So to bring this particular Ferris Wheel full circle, I'll just say that if you want to throw up less, don't eat quite so many elephant ears. And if you must indulge, stay off the rides. The fleeting happiness you find won't ease the smell of puke from your pants on the car ride home.

If you need a lift, first consider what's keeping you down. Knowing why you are doing something is the first step towards influencing what you are doing.