I played golf for the first time, yesterday. And actually, no, I wore shorts. It was surprisingly fun. I mean, I had already made an investment in a set of clubs (since, being lefthanded, it’s often hard to find appropriate/decent drivers at ranges, etc), so I was hoping I wouldn’t hate it. But it was actually quite enjoyable. The fact that it was a nice day helped a bit, too.

We only played nine holes, and I had a few really nasty ones — I’ve decided I can’t hit it off the fairway very well, yet. However, I did have a birdie. I (and everyone else) was amazed beyond all belief. After almost getting a hole in one — ball probably bounced 18 inches from the hole on this very short, 104 yard par 3, It rolled about 12 feet from the cup, and I putted it in.

Craziness.

People make fun of golf… hey, I used to. But it’s actually kinda fun. And as long as you aren’t fiercely competing, there’s nothing that can piss you off too much… I say that now, anyway…

Check out the Goose Creek course, if you’re out around Leesburg, Virginia. It’s pretty nice.

Last night was attempt #2 at salsa lessons. Attempt #1 was an utter failure. Last night, though, seemed to go a lot better.

And then we had to dance w/ partners. Gah.

I somewhat enjoyed the whole thing; however, I’m about 3 classes behind everyone else — my first time was about the second or third for everyone else. That detracts from the enjoyment, a bit… especially when one feels like he’s keeping the rest of the class from learning to each individual’s full potential, due to the fact that they have to dance with him.

My roommate said that if you’re discouraged in something that you enjoy, it should drive you to strive harder. This is true. However, I don’t have a chance to practise salsa everyday, y’know?

Started going back to the gym today, in the mornings, first time in weeks. I screwed up my “beach diet” last week already, though :).

Oh, headache, please go away. It’s almost time to go home, and it’s too nice a day to have to sit inside, suffering like this.

Driving home tonight, I remembered a little something about living at home; the northeast skies would always glow a little, always dusky, no matter how dark the rest of the sky. This was, of course, because the DC city lights would radiate a bit, visible from the outlying suburbs.

It occurred to me tonight that I don’t see the same thing here, when gazing to the east. And then, suddenly, everything this evening seemed to have a pacific clarity to it..

Now, I normally rock out, driving down the road, stick something in the CD player, jam along to it; This time, however, I think the missing stereo aided in the evening’s calm. I just listened to the sound of the tires on the wet road.

A few weeks ago, a bunch of us went to a restaurant in a somewhat shady part of town. I guess I’d left the passenger side door of my truck unlocked; we get home and my roommate realises her computer bag wasn’t there. Luckily, she’d left the computer at home.

Tonight, I get in my truck to go to the bookstore, and… hey, my stereo faceplate is missing.

What’s #3 gonna be?

Actually, I was fairly amused. I bought this CD player to realise later on down the road that it’s somewhat of a piece of shit. Won’t keep track of track/time on a cd, tends to lose time, etc. (Note to readers: don’t buy a Jensen XCD 9020)

So the strapping young punk who took it will be in for a disappointment. Kind of like the one who stole my roommate’s computer bag, I’m guessing :>

I feel a touch guilty about not driving out to go to my sister’s graduation. I never wanted to go to mine though, (high school or college), much less did I want people to attend.

It’s the same with holidays. I really don’t like Christmas gifts, and I loathe to sit there and recieve them, open them, ooh and aah to the amusement of family.

I think I need to quarantine myself from the family for several months. I need to cleanse myself from this dysfunction.

And I’m really fucking tired of sounding so negative in my LJ entries.

My housemate and I were talking/debating today. I forget how it started, but I had mentioned that it was difficult to find people who shared the same interests as myself, in this area.

[I should pause for a moment and explain that my housemate is one of the most unbelievably motivated people I have ever met]

After this statement, she told me that if I’m not finding people who share similar interests, or if I can’t motivate people I meet to do these things, that I need to find new hobbies. And this is all true, to some extent.

I responded with something like, “I just can’t seem to find anything that interests me”. And I’ve tried. Rarely does something pique my interest.

“Well, I think that’s just so sad,” was the response.

It stung. But again, it’s true. I just wish I could figure out why. She moves to this area, sees karate, decides to try it out, loves it. Moves to this area, visits a speechcraft organisation (Toastmasters). Joins it, loves it. The fact that she has lived here less than a year and has seven trophies from competitions in these fields is merely gravy. The fact is, something caught her eye and she took interest in it.

Why can’t I do that? Why does everything I see just seem boring to me? It’s not like I’m not motivated. If I found something that caught my interest, I know I’d dive into it. But I can’t find those things.

I just don’t know, but it’s gonna eat me up until I figure out why. And this ugly, rainy day doesn’t make me want to do anything but try and sleep it off.

oh yeah, i forgot to mention the curious aspect of the Go-Gos set.

As per usual, there were women sitting on shoulders, high above the rest of the crowd. It was quite eerie to see that 9/10 of them were all blonde, “all-american” types. Almost what you’d expect to see at a new-wave show. Just like the two women who were dancing around, next to us, on the sidewalk. Both blonde, both big Go-Gos fans.

It was surreal, somehow.

What a crazy, fun day.

Went to the DC101 Chili Cook-Off to benefit the National Kidney Foundation.

The temperature was strange… cool, then hot, the cool, etc. Temperature wasn’t supposed to get above 77… but I was nonetheless pretty toasty walking back and driving home.

Most of the chilis I tried were pretty good. I paused the “beach-in-a-few-weeks” diet to enjoy some spicy. And it’s not like I didn’t walk around enough to burn it all off.

…Right?

Heard a lot of live music. Missed hearing most of Jimmy’s Chicken Shack — I think it was them I heard, as we were trying to find the “Will-Call” desk. Heard a little Eve 6, though they ain’t really my scene. Later, after more chili, we realised that the sound and view were actually outside the fenced-in venue. So we sat through Train (though they actually weren’t all that bad)… and then waited for the Go-Gos!

New wave rules. And Belinda still looks awesome.
Best quote of the day:

“It’d be ironic if this was sponsored by the national liver foundation” — some random guy behind me in the throngs of people squeezing their way forward to the Red Hook/Doc Otis refreshment (booze) table.

It’s currently a chilly, rainy 59 degrees here. As I was walking out the door this morning, I ran into my next-door neighbor; she works at a hospital, or something, so has funky hours. “A good day to sleep,” she said.

Sometimes I wish I had a night job.

So anyway, it’s cold and rainy outside. And then I ran across this poem that I wrote about a year ago. What a contrast.

"It's Only May"

A sign of things to come
A heat that dulls the senses
  Dulls the mind
You wake up to go back to sleep,
  Wake up to make sure you are still alive

But what doesn't kill you
  makes you stronger
And while these people get happy and fat
in their air conditioned rat cages,
  I'm ready to bust on out.

It's only May
And already the stink stench
  of rotten fruit landfill motor oil
Attacks you as you go outside,
Asphalt assault.

Cross the street barefoot to
  pick up the mail,
Taunt the pavement
As it tries to
   scald my soles
   funnel its distress into my feet
Even the street can't take it,
I expect to see it buckle any minute.

Wake up once again,
Sweat staining shirts, couches.
I'm stuck in this rat cage.
I've got to get out.

I cannot get enough of the comic, Redmeat. In fact, I just added “Milkman Dan” as one of my LJ faves, in the off-chance that there would be others that have done the same. There were. It blew my mind.

I’ve been reading a few books recently, but the one that has been my bedtime reading is Reinhold Niebuhr’s Leaves From the Notebook of a Tamed Cynic. I’d seen it at Borders a few times, over the months, skimmed it. Finally decided to buy it.

Going to college where I did was a double-edged sword. On one hand, I got exposure to the more logical, “thinking” side of religion… it piqued my interest and eventually became a study/hobby. On the other hand, as I got more educated, I began to doubt. Not my own beliefs, mind you, but doubt the reality and depth of faith, observed in the people with whom I went to school.

This isn’t said in an uppity sort of way. I mean, anyone can look at the Christian Right and roll their eyes and say “God help us all.” However, after studying the aspects of the faith, I soon came to realise that they are simply so far misled from what the faith is all about.

And then I became a cynic.

I dunno, I guess I just assumed people dumb for being sheep, following everything they were told, unquestioningly taking for truth these ideas. And the more I saw, the more it drove me insane… and the more I antagonised.

These days, I just feel sorta sad for them, I guess. They’re missing out on what their faith is really about. And then I feel sad for the faith itself, because this small pocket of misled sheep are nonetheless becoming more influential and altering the world’s perception of it.

In any case, the book mentioned at the top of this entry contains selections from Niebuhr’s journals, from his entry into the ministry right out of seminary, and beyond. And it’s good, or at least comforting, to see that others have felt the same way, and to see how they have come to grips with their own issues of cynicism with regards to a faith, or to people.

That’s enough for now.

“…I waited for you on the running boards, near the cypress trees, while the springtime turned slowly into autumn.” - Bob Dylan, “Idiot Wind”

Right now, I wish the springtime would turn a little more quickly.
My allergies are driving me nuts. I don’t want to take any medicine, partially because I think we’ve become just a pill-popping culture, “take this little tablet and your worries disappear” sorta thing… but also because those antihistamines knock my ass out - which might not be a good thing at work.

This said, I have become a mass of runny-nosed, watery-eyed, sleep-deprived cells, screaming for relief.

And the relief that goes by the name “Visine AC” cannot be found. The other day, my roommate was participating in a speechcraft contest; I was there to support… and my eyes were on fire. A friend introduced me to Visine Allergy Control, and I’m telling you, it was like ice cubes for my eyes.

I went and bought a bottle, but now they are nowhere to be found.

If anyone has any suggestions on a good way to fight these symptoms that doesn’t include Sudafed, Benadryl or Chlor-Trimeton, I’d be grateful.

Until then, I suffer.

**Honestly, I’m not really a negative person, despite these last two entries, I’m just in a truly bummed-out state of affairs right now. I feel like I’m falling apart :)**

I hate to start off my first entry on an angsty note, but I heard about this on the radio this morning:

http://www.forbes.com/2001/05/10/bestwash.html

“…you have the raw ingredients for the best singles scene in the U.S.”

What a load!

I mean, the DC area is alright. There are some great bars, (Brickskellar, Carpool, Revolution), and a plethora of museums and other quasi-cultural exhibits. But DC a “singles scene”? Hardly.

Or maybe I just don’t go along with a “scene”. I dunno. Sometimes I feel it’s just plastic, superfluous. There seems to be glamour, but it’s all gloss. I rarely meet people who have much to say. This isn’t to say I haven’t met any. I’ve had some great discussions. But then that person is always a guy. Or involved. Or I’m “too young”.

“Throughout the sprawling D.C. area, which encompasses Maryland as well as Virginia, nearly everyone is from somewhere else originally, which makes it tough to be lonely even if you are pulling 14-hour days at the office.”

This just makes me feel all the more pitiful.

“With the Chesapeake Bay and ocean beaches close by, the Washington, D.C.-Baltimore area also offers outdoor recreational opportunities.”

Not with this suburban sprawl. Or maybe I just equate outdoor activities with camping, not volleyball or jogging.