verduuuuuugooo

The Lady and I are hiking on Saturday and you're invited.

Verdugo Mountain, South End Loop
near glendale
5.5 miles

Who's in?

home

With the sun good and set on Kahana, we bid farewell to another vacation. But, man, what a joy home is. and with that we turn our prayers towards those who have set out to build a new one. may your homes be a place of rest, relief and all the stuff I'm feeling now. Here's to Matt, Lisa, Darren and Becca. God Bless you.

And to the Gloyds, Mohalo. you are one and a million. and according to this page so is Jackson

A beautiful day

It's a Monday Holiday! K and I have decided those are the best. It is utterly beautiful outside. We tried incredibly hard to enjoy this day, but have given in to our heavy eyes. ahhh....camping.

Let's no longer call it camping. From now on, let it be known as "dirty drinking".

What ever it was, it was good to be among friends and around fire.

*sniff*

What's that smell?

Mmmmmm.... mesquite me!

I'm taking a three week class on the psychosis of the holocaust. it's pretty cool, but is very long and it can be quite depressing, so let's move on.

I'm looking forward to this weekends camping extravaganza. For those who will be there, let us hang. and for those who will not, let us do the same, perhaps another time.

top ten people I wish i knew better (in no particular order, cause that would just be awkward.)

Askey, Mike
Bethancourt, Lisa
Bush, James( Laurie's not yet fiance)
Hamilton, Andrew
Harbaugh, Darren
O'brien, Matt
Patterson, Ryan
Pool, Matt
Sycz, Mike
?, Kevin (Tisa's Kevin)

So I guess I went with alphabetically.

progress

Progression- advancement, development, growth, forward motion,

This positive movement towards something; acheivements, goals and growth, seems to be happening all around. I'm sure that rarely in one's life is this not true, but right now this progression seems somehow elevated, or at least accented, by the lives of close friends. Babies are happening, life is happening, and the pilgrimage leads them onward, away from this mecca of friendship and youthful behavior. And as one usually does, I will speak and think selfishly. Although the life I lead must remain stagnant for a little while longer, their wakes leave my boat anchored and rocking. I am e(a)ffected, excited and saddened.

I guess relationships are always in flux, but in these transitional moments we come to realize, if they are to be lasting, what determines these relationships cannot be time spent together, nor can it be shared circustances. So what, then, is it?

Sunday

Another weekend come and gone

6 more days till boston, brother, and beer. I look forward to getting more familiar with all.

My dad and not-mom came for a visit and we had joyous times.

An old roommate stopped by and I was reminded of good old days. another old roommate did not stop by. I thought this was because he lived in Virginia. This, however, was wrong. It is because he lives in Illinois. I need to call this ex-roommate and discover things about him. He does not blog right now, therefore, these necessary discoveries require the ancient art of direct, intentional communication.

That is all for now. You have a holy week

The Mississippi Rio West and the Mouse of Light

to move is to be alive, a decision acted upon and thus a recognition of existance. Now that I am one with another, I can justify these yearnings with finacial matters and future ventures, but this is not why I move. I have always had a hard time with the physical "home." (I speak conceptually here.) Perhaps this is why I move, I am seeking this physical "home". The hindus have a sacred sound pronounce "om." It is the infinite, representing Brahman and the entire universe...(my brain made a connection there but I don't feel like explaining it) More likely, though, I think I just get bored. I have always become bored with my surroundings. Hindsight has left me wishing I hadn't grown so bored sometimes (i.e. the halfway to whittier transition). When friends continued the party into whittier, I moved into the hellhole. These "what if's" and "what could have been's" seem such a vicious spiral. I tend to spend very little time indulging them. which leads me to the memories out of which my choices have scripted; The billy porch where we came to know each other; visits from matt; Fountain Valley and a friend named hickey, (whom I just found out has become a father); Long Beach, Billy, Dan and of course my lady. As much as I would have loved to have been apart of the defining moments in much of my friends lives, I can't help but be satisfied with the choices I've made. If there was a word that meant sad/happy I would write it here now to describe this feeling. Perhaps the french have such a word.
my home now, is in my lady, and I pray this never bores me. If you think this a horrible thing to say, forgive me. I have always looked up to my father, related with him and thus, thought myself like him. Then one day he up and divorced his wife. He say's he never really loved her. I can only hope this to be true, because I love my lady like no other. But having grown up in that house, it can be sometimes hard to reconcile.
...so here I am packing yet again, with hopes of meeting one more year of memorable satisfaction.
cheesy? yes, but I've got a few in me, so kiss off!
If your reading this blog and care about these words then I'm sure I feel the same and hope and need more time with you in the future.

Love,
Keith

Good friends are hard to keep.

They say good friends are hard to come by. I haven't found that to be true. It's been like shell searching on the beach and I'm finding shells everywhere I turn. Then I looked back and saw only one set of footprints. Jesus was carrying me all along. So we took my seashells, mixed sand and water into cement and made one of those neat little mosaic table, only, with shells. Then we sat down and played uno, just the dos of us. me and the tres.

I talked to an old friend last night. I wish I hadn't, but not really. I had gotten used to the idea of him not being around. but now I miss him. He should move back, but not really. I would like it though. I have other friends, they live about 30 miles away. People have been known to jog as much. here I go.

ahamilton is a toad

So I'm taking a children's lit. class and I must read wind in the willows by Wednesday. Yesterday being Monday I thought I would start. Perhaps some of you are thinking this is plenty of time. However, having never been a part of any prestigious honor society, this, to me, is a daunting task.

Once upon a time the friendly folks of the bayou thought it grand to assign animal traits to all the cool kids. I was the "badger". I had never met a badger but trusted that my more intellectual friends had, and thus humored the idea. It was sure better then a sun bear. I am a few pages in and have now met the badger. I get it. But I have also met the toad. He reminds me so much of a young ahamilton. A passionate little amphibian, holding amusement and disintrest for a thing in a single breath. A toad of discovery, of adventure, he is. I think I like the Toad, second only to our misunderstood friend the Badger. He's my favorite.

Well...

i've felt like a band working on it's sophmore album these last couple of weeks. I'm sure you know how that feels. I appreciate the praise, but man, you sure know how to shut a guy up. I can't handle the pressure. my name is joe, average joe. hear my mediocrity!

K's cousin, husband and 2 kids came for a visit this weekend. They have a 3 year old son and a 3 month old girl. I cooked up a hot dog for colby (three year old son) on Saturday and to my suprise found my ketchup bottle had a portrait of a cock on it. Would anybody, perhaps, know the origins of this tagging? Our beloved 50's table also got perminatly marked the night of the party. But...such is the price of good friends.

I've been reading Entering into the Heart of Jesus: Meditations on the Indwelling Trinity in St. John's Gospel. It's by George A Maloney. It's a book I've read often, but never all the way through. I usually pick it up when I have not been reading, and am feeling convicted. I pick it up and say, "this time, I will finish."
A quote from the book quoting St. John Chrysostom:

And to show the love He has for us He has made it possible for those who desire, not merely to look upon Him, but even to touch Him and to consume Him and to fix their teeth in His flesh and to be commingled with Him; in short, to fulfill all their love. Let us, then, come back from the table like lions breathing out fire, thus becoming terrifying to the Devil and remaining mindful of our Head and the love which he has shown us. (I like that last part.)

My mom used to say something about how much she loved me or how cute I was and follow it up with, "I could just eat you up!" This would then be followed by numerous wet kisses all over the face of a squirmy little boy. At the time, I found it very annoying, and drew no more conclusions about it. These days I think I understand a little better, for, every once in a while I have to a strange desire, when contemplating my love for lady k, to bite her. Love and appetite. The Eucharist. Love is consuming and consumption.

My parents gave me this book. It had meant so much to both of them. For my mother I think it was the comforting thoughts of God's invitation into "the triune community of love." For my father it explained the Trinity in a way that finally made sense to him. He felt such relief in comprehending. I guess the clover thing never did it for him.

My parents are divorced now, and have been for a couple of years, and separated for a few years more. I remember when I found out they were separated. They were living in two different states, so I probably should have gotten a clue. But it was disguised a very long moving process. The night my mom called I was with two friends Hamilton and Parker. Parker is now Bryant, but that is neither here nor there. Or is it? I guess an argument could be made for here being Bryant and there being Parker. But this argument would only occur in my own head, and therefore would most likely remain unresovled, as perhaps it should. Hamilton broke his "I'm not drinking alcohol" phase for me and we all drank red wine! It was good to have friends near.

Mom got a new job and is moving out of Augusta, GA and up to DC, close to her grandchildren. She starts this week. Dad got promoted to Vice President of US Manufacturing for _______(insert maker of feminine products and baby stuff), just got engaged to his new lady friend and is moving to Dover, Delaware where he will be closer to his grandchildren. I am predicting lot's of grandchildren being eaten up. Hamilton has moved to Idaho and is buying a house. Parker is now Bryant and teaches freshman English.

I remember when...

if I wanted to see friends, I would leave my room.

so true.
a glass of wine leaves me slamed the next morning. a couple of beers and my head is splitting come am. The morning after is always rough for me when any amount of drinking occurs. My hangovers have nothing to do with my degree of drunkeness.

In celebration of a fellows birth, we finished off a keg of guinness last night. 6 pilsner's (I don't think I've ever really seen the word so forgive any mispellings) of the good stuff and here I am feeling like a million bucks. There truely is nothing like it. It is God's milk. I think it cures cancer.

Since November 16th I've been having headaches, at least once a day. They usually occur in the morning, which makes for a rude awakening. Some are more bearable then others. The pain is percise, starting in my right temple and shooting through the back of my eye. This morning they woke me at a little before 5:00. After a horrible few sleepless hours our alarm went off. I called in sick, took so tylenol pm, curled up on the couch, cried, tossed and turned and fell asleep an hour later. I woke up about 12:00 feeling like a bad hangover. so I guess I'm feeling better. I wish these words were exagerations.

never the less, Friends and family make holidays happy
Thanksgiving was grand.