afraid

i'm basically done with half of this semester, bringing me two months away from finishing my master's degree. and if it matters, i still don't have some particular idea of what to do with my life - i don't have a life plan that i just have to follow. i have an upcoming week full of writing my thesis - this will be the most focused writing experience i will have tried. i hope that it works out well - i must admit i'll be doing a number of other things while home (trying to relax, hanging out with a few people, grading 40-50 essay tests, etc). but one thing i won't be doing is going to class or doing stuff for class - that should allow me to focus on writing something i've now spent many months thinking about. and i probably won't be able to make any life decisions while away because i still haven't heard from most of the places i applied to.

i was in a band for most of my young life: from seventh grade until after senior year with two of the same guys, one of which i kept playing music with until done with college, along with another guy who hooked up with us sophomore year of high school. at any rate, i played bass guitar and keyboards (sometimes both in the same song and a few times, both at the same time). i've recorded three cds with these guys, and i've had some of my best memories playing music and hanging out with them. to put it simply, they have made my life fun and exciting. i haven't been playing music with them for the last two years, and i often miss it a lot.

the summer after my senior year of high school, my band took five days or so and went up to the singer's house near aberdeen, south dakota - on a lake there. we basically tried to live like rock stars who didn't have to care about anything except hanging out and trying to record an album. and it worked. we recorded (track on track) nine songs in the last two days after writing them (half from start to finish, the others mostly) in the first few days. on top of that, we produced fifty copies (mastered and burned them ourselves) and the artwork the last night. and did i mention we played a concert the final night, which meant we had to prepare the songs to play them live and set up a sound system in an out of commission former bar. we had a few disagreements and internal conflicts (mostly regarding the guitarist drinking a bunch of alcohol while we were trying to be productive. and we had our share of totally hilarious and fun times also - we went out on the lake at night and watched shooting stars - throughout those days, the guitarist also had a game going to try to make us look at him while he was mooning us (i made it quite a while, but in the end he won out).

two very memorable experiences revolved around the boat (same one we used to watch shooting stars). and both involved the singer and i operating it (and it wasn't ours) when it decided to quit. the first time was one morning when we didn't feel like showering and instead like jumping into the lake, but since it was green (sd lakes have algae problems in the summer), we took the boat to the other side of the lake. and after we'd jumped in and got back on ready to go back, the boat's engine wouldn't start. we kept trying, but the waves were pushing us into shore (not a bad thing considering the circumstances). once we made it into shore (and still couldn't get the boat started), we decided i would run back to the house (probably 2-3 miles barefoot) while the singer stuck with the boat. i had run maybe one hundred yards when he yelled to me that he had started the boat so i came running back. and we drove back, and i avoided a potentially unpleasant barefoot run through a mosquito infested forest.

the second time the motor decided to quit the two of us were ferrying people and equipment from the house to the former bar where we were playing that evening. the nice thing is that these were all friends of us, good enough friends to drive up from brookings to aberdeen to hear us play (and have a party afterwards, which was probably a good part of it). so the boat quit, and one of the passengers and i (both of us were lifeguards) decided to jump in the water and swim the boat to shore - we were much slower than the motor would have been, but it was actually pretty fun.

and speaking of the party we had, the trip out to the rural farm house we were hanging out at had an interesting experience. everyone was going to follow the singer and guitarist out to the place while the drummer and i returned to the house to make sure some of our equipment was safe, and as we were turning the opposite direction, we saw a police car turning, and it was headed right for the string of fifty or so cars that were caravaning out to a party (and yes, many of these people were underage). so we quick called the singer to make sure he knew, and he led the cars on a false path, then pulled over (so everyone else would pull over) and drove the opposite direction to see if he could see a cop - and strangely enough he couldn't. so then we went on out to the party, and it was fun and everything. i left after a few hours (because i wasn't getting much satisfaction from hanging around with drunk friends when i wasn't drinking), and i drove back to the summit exit and slept a little while in my car, then drove the rest of the way home the next morning.

sometimes remembering things like this trip make me wish for more such experiences - it was terribly fun and really satisfying in a number of ways, hanging out, writing and playing and recording music, messing around, feeling like i was on a real break from things, like i was making a big deal out of something (our last performance as a band) and that it was working. sometimes memories are really good.

quick editorial note: this post has so far been quite positive and fun - it takes a terrible (but real) turn for the worse here - fair warning that you might not want to read this next section.

and sometimes memories are troubling. i just had a conversation tonight that brought again to the front of my mind many of the worst feelings i've experienced in my life - the feeling that i'm not where i should be, the feeling of helplessness that derives from distance. it hurts more than anything i can describe. having someone that you care for deeply who is far away is really difficult for me. telephone conversations aren't great ways to interact with someone, though they are certainly better than nothing - i've learned that relationships with people i care about very much, when based on phone calls are exponentially better than nothing - incredibly so. but at certain times like this one, i hurt a lot. i need to be able to be there - i want so badly to help, or at least to share the experience. and this isn't limited to the difficult times - i feel the desire just as strongly much more often. but it gets really tough here and now. last summer, it was so powerful that i got confused and didn't know what to do so tried to tough it out. then i tried to tell myself that we would be better off if we learned to deal with it on our own since we couldn't deal with it together. i was wrong - i was stupid. i rarely wish myself back (live with regrets), but i do with that. but that doesn't help me now - it doesn't help me know what to do now except keep myself closer to those that are important. does that make sense? how can i collect those that i care so much for? can i keep my world smaller? this is so difficult for me to make sense of it.

Poison Oak by Bright Eyes

Poison oak some boyhood bravery
When a telephone was a tin can on a string
And I fell asleep with you still talking to me
You said you were afraid to die

In Polaroids you were dressed in women's clothes
Were you made ashamed, why did you lock them in a drawer
I don't think that I ever loved you more

Then when you turned away
When you slammed the door
When you stole the car
And drove towards Mexico
And you wrote bad checks
Just to fill your arm
I was young enough, I still believed in war

Let the poets cry themselves to sleep
And all their tearful words will turn back into steam

But me I'm a single cell
On a serpents tongue
There's a muddy field where a garden was
And I'm glad you got away
But I'm still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet
From your brother's tears

And I never thought this life was possible
You're the yellow bird that I've been waiting for

The end of paralysis
I was a statuette
Now I'm drunk as hell on a piano bench
And when I press the keys
It all gets reversed
The sound of loneliness makes me happier