Sally is actually Sandy

I don't like new years. Along with everything else I have opinions on, my opinion for new years is wet with apathy and cynicism. WET. Just sopping. Anyways, here's some random thoughts about this year, some of them not so soggy.

Jan-April is sort of a black hole of depression in my mind where I remember very few things. I did meet one of my favorite people in MN/world in March-ish(?). Shout out to D-Cat Davis.

In May the sound of jazz pulled me from said black hole and it was glorious.

In June I moved into a house with a bunch of people I didn't know, some of them have since moved out and been replaced by others, but I truly love it here and the people I live with.

July-Spetember is all kind of bland in my brain for some reason. Something neat might have happened, but not neat enough to remember.

In October I got kicked out of a country, met another favorite human who now plays drums in Ancient Mariner, and felt very displaced during a brief visit to CO.

In November the morning didn't roar. I awoke to the sound of nothing.

In December I found out I have been calling one of my regular customers the wrong name since I returned from my month hiatus in October. New Years resolution: figure out how to remember people's names.

Here's one of my favorite songs I heard all year:

That's also probably my favorite album of the year, but I didn't have the money to buy most of the music I wanted to, so who knows what I missed out on?

My favorite non-Tolkien book I read was East Of Eden. It blew my gourd. Thou mayest.

I read the Silmarillion for the first time, not as daunting as I expected, way more beautiful than I thought it would be.

I asked out a total of 2 ladies. Both said yes. I went on zero dates.

I wrote lots of songs, and threw away most of them. Of the ones I kept, most will be part of a full length album I hope to have written by March.

That's my year. Here's to the next one I guess? Tomorrow is just another day.

Gabriel

Peanut Butter Super Volcano

I like peanut butter. 

For those who don't know me, this is a pretty radical thing. For those who do know me, they probably still wouldn't notice how radical it is because it's overall kind of trivial and silly, and therefor one of the things that my mind chooses to analyze and retell over and over to everyone because I think it's important.

It's radical because I've hated peanut butter for the last 17 years of my life. I remember very vividly eating a PBJ when I was 5-ish and thinking, "I hate this" and I never looked back. I had eaten it maybe twice since then, and it was on backpacking trips when I'm not allowed to complain about food selections. Then, last week, I felt an odd craving for that suffocating substance that millions adore. I knew exactly where I could get it with little personal sacrifice(I'm poor) and test this craving.

When I got home I raided my housemate's cupboard for peanut butter and honey and made a sandwich that felt a lot like betrayal to who I was, and tasted a lot like freedom.

The next day I was consumed again by craving, and for the last 3 hours of work it was all I could think about. Peanut butter. I could taste it on my tongue. I had awoken some dormant hunger that was now surging and rising, an unstoppable super volcano of terrifying power that would tear me apart if I didn't get it immediately. Such is the nature of cravings, even for something as inconsequential as peanut butter.

I spent my tips that day on a loaf of bread and the first jar of PB that I would ever purchase.

I used to hate coffee too. It was a different sort of scenario. I wanted to like coffee(unlike peanut butter) because it smelled good and I'd probably feel cool while drinking it. And boy do I. But I remember a friend telling me that I would only start enjoying coffee when I absolutely needed it. The first cup of coffee I ever enjoyed was before my 3rd straight opening shift at Panera. Nothing ever tasted so good or hopeful at 5 in the morning.

I had pondered forcing myself to eat peanut butter before, whether I liked it or not, simply because it's cheap, filling, apparently at least sort of good for you, and I'd like to not die of hunger this winter. I doubt it would have lasted though. Knowing that I need something isn't enough for me. I have to want it, as much as I wanted to love coffee. My pining for coffee meant nothing 'til I felt the urgent need for it.

Necessity and longing very rarely meet with equal power and passion in my mind, and I remain static and unchanged because of it. I've had peanut butter every day since last monday, and every day I approach it with caution, feeling slightly giddy and slightly ashamed as I spread the peanut butter across my bread. The first bite is always very skeptical, and each one that follows becomes a little less so as hunger leaves my body.

As usual I have no idea how to tie this up, but I have this stupid analogy and I feel like I should ride it till it falls, and then beat the snot out of it, because that's what blogging is all about! I've been trying to change who I am for 3 years, to become someone better. Inspired and inspiring, good inside and out. I can't grasp it. The results taste like bitter coffee and stick like peanut butter, constricting the mouth, and I'm tired of trying. There's little sense of need anymore, and my longings lay in idle hands.

Gabriel