Why am I an asshole?

Because fuck you. It’s all about me. Actually not really. I often think to myself that karma is paying me back BIG TIME for the things I’ve done that have been less than ‘write-home about’ worthy. Or I could simply be so self absorbed and concerned about nobody except myself that it’s really a cry for attention.


For those that know me, I don’t see eye to eye with certain members of my family. One of the few things I do agree with is that statement.It may not even literally be who you’re in bed with… or who you’re fucking at the moment. It’s the ones you think about as you turn in for the night. And it’s also for the ones that keep the feeling mutual.

We often fall in a trap of being too concerned with what other people think. Sometimes we bring it on ourselves, and sometimes other people volunteer their criticism and give you a complex that you un-admittedly can’t escape. I have a few. But it’s really not that big of a deal. I usually make a joke out of my shortcomings (pun intended) just in case someone else doesn’t know what to say in an awkward moment of self-realization.

There’s no point in worrying about the opinions of those who have no concern about where you are laying your head at night. Even if the only person is yourself, then you should only be concerned with yourself. There is also no need to be concerned if someone is there with you or not. We are all on our own path so don’t force something that you have no right to. If someone else comes along and says ‘let’s ride’, and you want them to ride then by all means, take them by the hand and live your god damned life. Make it fuckin’ awesome.


This has been a huge problem for me. It may sound like I’m full of myself. Maybe I am. Fuck off. But for reals….

I can’t stay still in my life. In fact lately I’ve been stagnant for too long. I do however, always look for what’s next. Of all the things I’ve done, I’ve learned about people more than I sometimes care to. People can be disgusting. People can be beautiful. Everything in between as well. Nothing surprises me anymore.

Not being surprised doesn’t mean I don’t find myself amazed at what can come from someone. Garbage or Awesomeness alike. Thing is, I get bored of it… Quick. Maybe because I see too many people do what I’ve done with my life. Something gets started and there’s no follow through. It’s quite frustrating.


Dating sucks. Talking to people sucks. Making small-talk sucks. Why is it so damn important? Sometimes I just want to be. Simply BE. Maybe I don’t feel like talking. Maybe I do. Maybe I want to talk shit because stirring the pot is a lot more fun than simply watching the flies collect on the surface.

I feel so out of place if I find myself forcing conversations or actions just to please other people. ‘Oh cool dog, what’s it’s name?’ – ‘Tell me more about your ex’ – ‘Can you please just stab me in the eye?’   I remember a topic of discussion in college Literature class. We were reading short stories by David Sedaris. The professor mentioned about how he loves a good story that doesn’t waste your time with things that don’t need to be said.That comment has actually made me wonder why the hell I even do these blogs.

I have no clue why I do this shit anymore. They say it’s good to write… Keep a journal…. whatever. This is dumb.


One… More… Day…

Sometimes I question whether or not I can get it right. I’m always misaligned with almost everything in my life. Seems like I’m always the one late to the party only to realize that it isn’t really a party at all.

Can’t seem to get it right with friends, lovers, jobs, traffic… By the time I figure it out the ship has sailed. Lately I’ve had someone really awesome come into my life and I don’t quite know what to do with it. Patience in the sense of time, is not one of my virtues. Mix that with the fact that I know what it feels like to always be ‘unsure’ about things and it’s a recipe for Dave going gypsy again. I’m tired of going it alone. I’m tired of waking up every day wondering if it’s really worth it to me.

I think of the pearls I bought on my first deployment. Still safe in my possession. When I bought them along with another set that went to a dear friend, I didn’t have anyone specific in mind. It’s my own little way of keeping hope that they will be worn by someone truly deserving of not only the pearls themselves, but of what I want to give. Thing is, I sometimes wish that I knew of something special waiting for me to come along. It’s always ‘now’s not the right time’, ‘the timing is just a little off’, ‘let’s just be friends’, ‘come back another day’…

I’m tired of waiting.

We are all tired of waiting even if we don’t know it yet.

Apathy has set in and it’s killing us. It’s killing me.

I’m tired of being tired with nothing to show. I find myself always saying ‘just one more day…’ I’ve had too many one more days…

Here’s to hoping for a good night’s sleep and maybe a kick in the ass to do what I need to be doing…


I don’t want to jump the gun too soon, but I think I’m finding something inside me that needed to get out for a long time. The extreme annoyance I’ve been experiencing because of a number of ignorant and inconsiderate people the last few years is finally getting to a tipping point for me. This is no revelation at any level. I know what will work for my life and my happiness. I’ve relied on other people too much and aside from the true friends that stick by, disappointment hasn’t ceased for quite some time.

I tend to go on a critical path when talking about people in my life, but it’s what is driving me to places I didn’t want to be, and motivating me to go to places I need to be. I want to be OK having high expectations for a future girlfriend or wife. To do that, I need to start taking better care of myself in all aspects. I want to expect better relationships with friends and even acquaintances. I want to wake up in the morning and feel alive again.

It’s so close I can taste it. As long as my bad luck quits for a little while, I think I’ll be able to drive on a little farther.

This fire that I am trying to express is difficult to understand. It’s a similar feeling to looking into someone’s eyes and realizing that there is a carnal urge to find each other’s soul. I want to look into the eyes of the world around me and see hope and desire for something better than the status quo. As little as I’ve actually divulged in this year worth of writing here, it has actually helped me map out the direction I need to go.

All I can continue to say to people that want to be any part of my life is… Stay Tuned…


I hate money. I really do. I hate what it does to people and how it tears people apart. A reoccurring thought I’ve been having lately came to me again tonight driving home from work. A fun as it would be to live a life as a free range hippy and experience free love and communal living, it’s just not in the cards for me. Not yet at least. The world we live in is driven by money. Money in this definition of mine is the idea of financial and material wealth. It also means leverage to attain certain social status allowing influence of others to be a part of everyday life.

To make a change in the ranks of an organization one would typically join the organization and learn the mechanics of it before even drawing conclusions on how to do it. In fact tonight I was talking to a co-worker about managers that get hired without first working within the company. Typically their views are skewed and the expectations are a little out of hand at times. The idea of promoting within, in any company or organization, seems to be the more functional and acceptable way to maintain integrity.

To make a change in society, (at least in certain realms) you must become one of it. It’s the basic idea of say, city council members. They are voted in typically because they are active and understanding people of a community. I shouldn’t have to say that it becomes too easy for people in positions of this sort of power to take it too far. It may not be fair to say that council members of a small community are corrupt, but more so the people of larger ones. And positions of governance above and beyond the aforementioned title seem to garner temptations of greed and power to a level that society is struggling with right now.

What we need to make meaningful changes in our world is to find people that can be put in positions of power and governance without ever assuming they are above anyone at all. One of my favorite bosses a long time ago at a country club I worked at said to a group of us one day, “if you need anything at all, even to have dishes washed let me know. I’m not above doing anything because our goal here is to serve the members, not feed my ego.” That idea has stuck with me ever since. I can’t think of a more practical and motivating way to lead than having that kind of mentality.

I’m still trying to piece together exactly what I want to be doing with myself, though I have a pretty good idea. No matter how far I’m able to go, I want to take with me the idea that I can’t make a change in the world I know of (however small that change is) by trying to fight compliance of expectations of the status quo. It’s a bit conflicting to say that, but becoming immersed in the life we wish to change is the first step. The second step is busting all preconceptions about how it all should be done. Of course no one is going to listen to a guy like me in a position I am right now. I have to find a way to get to a more influential position before doing what I hope to do.


The trip from Cheyenne through Denver onward to Omaha brought about a feeling that I’m strangely happy to have had again. It’s a feeling that keeps me centered during this trying time in my life. The full circle effect is quite evident in my life right now. Friends and a small part of family are proving that some things simply endure. Along the way I’ve managed to scoop up some interesting experiences with some pseudo-friends along the way. I’ve relied on those pseudo-friends too much in my life and I’m finding a way to set myself free. Finally.


I’ve been voluntarily reduced to almost nothing. Again. It’s rough but this road will be the one I pave for myself and anyone in my future. And for anyone that comes along for the journey. As much as I’d love to speculate about exactly what I’m going to do with myself,  I can’t right now. It would be irresponsible of me to hold myself to a standard for the sake of saving face. Let the judgement reign.


I’m waiting for the one phone call to bring me to my knees. It will happen soon I know. Maybe it won’t be a phone call. Maybe a Facebook status update. Either way, there’s no better time than now to prepare for personal catastrophe.


It’s truly a shame how much money dictates what we can do with our lives. Altruism aside, it’s damn near impossible to make any change in the world we live without the influence of money. I can’t stand it.


This is a bit of random thought tonight, this blog, but also a reflection of the impending storm that feels like is coming. My life can’t be this stagnant for long, and neither can society. On the grand scheme of things I feel like we are on the brink of major socio-political meltdown. Deny it or argue it if you will, but the writing is on the wall.


Just as I need to tread lightly as I traverse to the next chapter in my life, all of us need to take a bit of time to recognize what is going on around us. We may soon realize that it’s going to take a lot more than a donation to research or a cause to make some real change in our world. We may actually have to get off our assess and help out our fellow mankind. And not do it for the money or good conscious. We may actually have to do it to survive on this earth.


This blog is about one of the most important things in my life. In ’04 I made a decision to change my life. I had enough with myself and I walked into the recruiting station hell-bent on joining the Army. Any job would do and the sooner the better. I wasn’t running from problems, I was running for a future I knew I wanted. Fast forwarding through training, Airborne School and the first deployment to Iraq…
Amongst the cooler stories of being deployed to a combat zone, we found peculiar ways to occupy our time when we could. We didn’t quite have the satellite hookup as we did on my second deployment so we had to deal with thirty minute allowances on the computers to e-mail or whatever. MySpace was just coming to life and social media was about to break-out.
I’m not too ashamed to admit that I spent some time meeting some girls online that I had hopes of meeting when I got back to the states. I even found my basic training buddy’s sister online which evolved into quite a welcome home party when I got back… And then there was Ashley. She lived about an hour or so away from where we were supposed to be stationed when we got back… So the story goes…
The group of guys I was deployed with didn’t get a typical ‘R&R’ period for leave since we were technically there for less than a year. Instead we got to take a four-day pass to Qatar. Pretty cool little peninsula country off Saudi Arabia. One of the richest countries in the world they say. I went with Pedro. He was an eclectic Puerto-Rican guy with an undying love for girls and gold. One of the best guys I’ve ever met in the military and it’s a shame we lost touch. We hooked up with a liaison who worked on base yet had privileges to go out into town. We went Ice-Skating, shopping, touring and ate at some pretty cool places. Late night me and Pedro found ourselves in the Gold Souks deep within downtown Doha. One of the first shops was a dirty little shop with more gold and pearls in it than I had ever seen in my life at one time. Pedro loved gold and wanted to buy his girlfriend (but more so himself) all the gold jewelry he could afford. As he was unsuccessfully negotiating a cash price for a handful of gold rings and necklaces, I picked up a strand of pearls. Black, white and pink all in one necklace. It was the coolest thing I’d seen thus far as far as jewelry is concerned. It was something like $600. I politely pushed it back and tried to help Pedro from losing his ass on the deal. The guy noticed my interest in the pearls and came down in price a few times. $500…$400…$300… I wasn’t biting. With a few sly placements of the pearls in my hands, he asked for an offer. Pedro said ‘Get them for the girl you’re going to meet when we get back to the states’…I said $150… He cocked his head in disagreement and I set them back on the counter. While he went to grab them and put them away he offered $180. Sold.
These events happened in mid-2005. Upon returning home and never meeting Ashley a whirlwind of events took over my life including one more deployment. I still had the pearls from the trip to Qatar and I wasn’t quite ready to let them go… I met a girl who lived a few hours away. It was the first relationship I tried to make happen since screwing up a few before that while I was getting ready to deploy. This girl I met was graduating from college and I felt like I needed to offer her something…. I let her wear the pearls for graduation without ever forgetting that they were not in fact hers. Drama, drama drama… we broke up. She refused to give the pearls back. I didn’t care what she took, but I couldn’t let her keep those. After threatening to tell her family about her days as a stripper she succumbed to my request. Pearls in hand I went on my way…
Years later… I got out of the military, opened a restaurant, sold it, drove trucks, climbed trees, traveled around the US and Ireland (again) and ended up in flight school….
I never stayed out of touch with Ashley. We would play scrabble on a daily basis and occasionally write each other on Facebook or Twitter. She was a part of my life that I will never forget and I felt like I owed her something. My last year of flight school I decided it was time to go see her for the first time. I had some extra cash saved up and a little bit of time to kill. Off to Tennessee I would go… Seven years late…
Some more years later and broken plans about meeting her prior made for awkward expectations for sure. I didn’t care. I had seen plenty of pictures and conversed enough with her to not be nervous that I would be meeting some sixty year old poser wanting a piece of mid-thirties guy’s ass. When I saw her for the first time with my own two eyes, she was quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls I had ever met. The social constructs kept me familiarly awkward, but inside I was in awe. ‘Why did I not do this sooner?’ We spent a good portion of her free weekend exploring the finer aspects of eastern Tennessee while she wasn’t at work.
The last day I was there I asked her to go to lunch one last time before flying out. We sat at Panera Bread and I awkwardly told her that I had something for her. I had been saving it all this time and I felt it was time to let it go. I told her the story of how I got them and pulled out the string of pearls and set them in her hand. Though I noticed the shaking of her hands, I still can’t quite put a finger on what her reaction really was. Surpise? Awe? Fear? Who knows…
After an awkward second trip to see her, I knew that I was either too late for anything to come of it, or we simply didn’t click like the story books would like. I was ok with that after stumbling through my persistence to get one more date with her. She will always be someone special to me and should never second guess the sheer beauty she exudes.
The twist to all of this… that night in Qatar… I bought a second set of pearls. For someone with a name otherwise unknown…

Not the fruit…

About dancing… Years ago I worked for a Papa Murphy’s Pizza joint. Too many stories but amongst robberies, first kisses, underwear-less sluts sitting on the prep tables and jealous family of owners I had my first taste of something wonderful. There was a girl named Amanda that I worked with (ironic) that had a desire to learn some swing. She was actually quite a bitch. Cute little blonde haired bible thumping hypocrite she was. Anyways, I was smitten with her interest in dancing so I weasels my way into taking a few lessons with her. Our introductory lesson was the lindy hop. All I could think was ‘what the hell is this?’ Two hours of me walking a straight line and her gracefully covering my tracks with an elongated turn. Not only was I with some girl who was probably on some rag-time of her own, I was sorely disappointed in the lack of passion that was being taught. Meh…

Years later is when I decided to take actual ballroom lessons in North Carolina. Lets not pay too much attention at the thousands of dollars I spent, but more so the introduction to what dancing is all about. My teacher was a nice lady… Middle school teacher that was probably quite the hottie in her earlier days. Even for a sixty-something cougar she was quite a sight for sore eyes. Everything was gravy until my thigh touched her vagina.

The particular version of the foxtrot (if you can really call them versions) called for a closed position. None of this arms length shit. It was becoming a full contact sport. As much of a horn-dog military guy as I was, learning to actually dance was my only priority when I was at the studio. I had been hesitant to lead not because of a lack of confidence, but because of a lack of knowledge of the basic steps. One night it clicked. I was put with a new girl who had never danced before. It was robotic. My instructor saw the predicament I was in and decided to demonstrate how she was supposed to dance with me. As I took up the posture I held her close in. Left foot, right foot, left foot then BLAM… The trouble with the situation was quite a paradox of dancing conundrums. A guys solution to being turned on while dancing is commonly discussed, but how do you address the situation when roles are reversed?

I think that’s the day that dancing died for me… Until recently. It’s been so long I couldn’t tell you the difference between a promenade and an underhand turn… Part of the excitement of life is finding ways into the depths of other’s souls. Having sex is one way I know how… Can’t really have sex with every girl I meet right? So dancing is my alternative. Problem is, none seem to understand the purpose.

In a world of overly insecure guys hawking over every available girl and women with no understanding of self worth, there is something missing. Passion. In everything. You want to be good at something? Try… Trying… at least. You feel like making something? Put your soul into it and see what comes out. Maybe you want to accomplish a goal? How about learning how to make love to the notion that what you do with this life is completely in your hands. If someone comes along and wants to dance with you, fucking dance already. Say yes to experiencing something with no excuses. Nothing is permanent unless you choose it to be. When you find a fire inside yourself don’t let anyone extinguish it. That’s what I did and it sucks. I have some hope though. I’m seeing people for what they’re really worth to me and I feel better about going on this journey I’m about to embark on.


Nothing much for tonight. Trying to write what is on my mind right now could quite possibly drain me into a coma. I was able to stand up to some personal demons tonight and am perfectly ok with who I am and what I believe in.

I believe life should be good. My ultimate dream would be to live on a sailboat with a floatplane beached nearby. I would fly tourists around for just enough money to buy food, shelter and an occasional good time. I know full well that this would not suit just anyone. This is my dream. This is my blog.

As might be expected if you keep up with my life, is the fact that having someone by my side would make it a million times better.

One of the things I’ve realized again tonight is to never settle. I don’t want to settle for something just because its convenient. I don’t want to settle for a wife that simply fits the mold. I don’t want to settle for a career simply because it makes money. I don’t want to raise my kids to a lower standard just because its easy. I want to expect consideration. I want to expect faithfulness. I want to expect honesty, truth and integrity. I want to have a feeling in my gut and not feel bad about trusting it.

I don’t want to hold back any more. I’ve never been a violent person but I really feel like getting in a good bar fight. I want to speak my mind from everything that I believe I’ve earned in this life the far. I want to humble someone’s ego. Soon my friend. Soon.

Thou I promised candid and open discourse within this blog, I have yet to truly open up. Thus far it has only been communication about certain topics that I have strong feelings for. I have some three hundred days left in this goal and as I go along I hope to follow a dialogue along changes that I hope to make in my life. Did that even make sense? It barely made sense to me.

Seem people can express themselves through art and music, some through poetry and some through writing. I generally think writing is my outlet but I wonder if there’s something that I don’t know of yet that would better suit my own expression. Maybe I just need to get through the next few months to hone in on my self appointed talent.

Stay tuned.

Nine lives…

I wish I could write for days about this next topic. How things come around full circle. I had a conversation last night with one of my best friends and the concept came up. I’m a skeptical believer in fate. I’m skeptical because I don’t want to assume that it is necessarily because of divine intervention. However things happen, purposeful or not, I think there is some sort of reason. If anything it is for the education of our souls doing time here on this earth. Through further analysis of my opinions and beliefs, one may wonder why the hell I even care about things. I project an opinion that life is a joke. Truth is, while we shouldn’t take things too seriously, I believe we need to take heed to what is happening to us every second of every day. Realizing that our existence is ultimately pointless in the grand scheme of things, brings me to the next truth… The grand scheme of things that we are a part of, is why we need to wake the fuck up, become what we need to be and manifest into something that takes full advantage of the countless resources we have available that we otherwise piss on.

Back to earth for a moment. I’m reminded of Columbia Park in Kennewick before I shipped off to basic training. I had recently quit my job as manager of a local Papa Murphy’s and was working a temp position as a garbage man. One of the coolest jobs by the way. At the end of my day I’d ride my bike (pedal type) down to the park and reflect on the mess that my life had become. I’d listen to U2 on my portable CD player sometimes. The songs had a weird meaning to me that reminds me of this portion of life. Though it wasn’t the most glamorous time in my life, the memory of the music and my times of reflection put me in a bit of a better mood. One of the thoughts I had was how different my life was about to become. How different it became for sure. I never imagined sitting in that park ever again.

I had a handful of things in storage that I would end up getting after basic training. When I came home from airborne school for some leave, I bought a pickup truck and was able to put everything I owned in the bed of this truck. No exaggeration on the amount of things I had. My leave got cut short and I had to beat feet to Fort Bragg, NC. It would be about a thirty eight hour drive from Washington to North Carolina. The truck was fairly newish but as I passed through the Tri Cities (for those unfamiliar, it’s the place I’m talking about above with the park) the tensioner had started squealing and was just about to fall off. I had to stop at a local dealer to have it fixed under the warranty. As I sat there waiting, the irony was killing me. I couldn’t get away form this place! Luckily, they fixed it in a few hours and I mobbed down to NC. I actually made it in thirty three hours. I slept about four of those hours.

After so many years of this new life I was living, it’s funny how things worked out. Prior to selling my restaurant I had done a little research on flight schools that the VA would pay for. Amazingly, the one school that I would be eligible for was right here in Washington. Moses Lake to be exact. By the time I sold my place, I still had quite a few months before I could even start this program. Once the logistics were taken care of and the school was in line, the thoughts of irony crept in again. Moses Lake is just over an hour drive from the Tri Cities. Over the past year or so, I’d take some road trips down there and though I don’t go to see anyone, it’s nice to reminisce about how things were, are, and could be in the future. Just a week or so ago, I went to the mall there to get some shoes. On the way back I stopped at the park and by total chance, a U2 song came over pandora. How in the hell did I end up back here after all I’ve been through?

I started to get down on myself until I realized something extremely important in the matter. Whether it was because of my subconscious directive to put me in the situation I am, or some other influence, this is actually a full circle experience that I need to wake up to. It’s my own second chance. Assuming I don’t go crazy while going to this school, I will end up with a Commercial Pilot License and a world of opportunity. I also have my Commercial Driver License, so getting a job for income won’t be an issue wherever I decide to go. I also have the ability to open another restaurant. I’m damn good at a lot of things and though they may not be the most prestigious titles that I hold, I don’t have much to worry about. I’m only a few months away from making my next move in life. I want it to be good. It’s no longer out of desperation like it was years ago. There’s some worn out reasons as to why I’m a little hesitant to decide on what to do right now, but this blog is one vehicle I’m using to come to terms with some realities that I need to accept.

The conversation I had last night had to do with someone in my life that is more important to me than I gave her full credit for over the past many years. A little proof of that has to do with something that I saved specifically for her even through other girlfriends and shitty times in my life. This particular story I want to save for later but it was brought to my attention that life has a funny way of making circles. Figuring out what I’m supposed to do with my thoughts on situations is difficult. Seeing opportunities come back around in my life gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, I’m close to being on the right track. It’s either that, or I’m being tested not to be irrational about things and I need to chill out. Moving along from my current life will be pivotal in the next chapter of my life, no matter what I do. There’s no way it can’t. All I know, as I say over and over, life is about to get really good. Until then, my day to day is simply running around… In circles.