Sorry, folks, about the downer last post (although the moon WAS really pretty!).

It's amazing what a full 8 hours of sleep can do: perspective + rest = feeling quite good.

No depression. It's not just a magazine anymore. =)

The moon over Orlando tonight is amazing--in the midst of this dark sky, with only one slowly disintegrating cloud, there's this sharp, precise, circular outline filled with the brightest white. The light almost hurts my eyes to look at.

The moon is the highlight of my day (and night). Otherwise, I'm rather depressed.

No worries, though. Most things are going okay. =)

I was struck with a really strange contrast last night. I had decided to head downtown after Wednesday night church to catch an aquaintance's band play at a local rock club. I felt good about being fashionably late as the guy putting the orange band around my wrist (so that I could have unfettered access to the bar, I guess) informed me that I missed the first band, The Awakening.

A side note: I almost never miss the first band...I'm one of those people who figure that the cover price should very well buy me time with the most horrible of opening bands. I paid for the time, I deserve it. Well, at least I used to think that. =)

Every other show that I've been to at The Social was packed. Last night, I didn't recognize the place with the smattering of about 12 people around the entire club; the management even closed off the more "intimate" back bar...I guess to save some air conditioning costs.

While I usually like to go to shows with friends, I couldn't round up any to accompany me on short notice. Going alone, however, isn't usually a problem--I'll just find people I know in the crowd and catch up. Let's just say that with ten people there, my odds weren't all that good. So I ordered a drink. And sat at the bar. And felt rather lonely.

Even though my dad was an alcoholic, I think I've always romanticised the picture of the guy sitting alone at the bar, drink in hand, spouting witticisms about life to bartender who has an open ear (opened, of course, by tips dropped along the way). Last night wasn't romantic, though. I realized that the only reason I ever thought the proverbial bar regular was cool was because he was easy to paint in words, a character in a story, someone to voice the author's words without any investment in his character. I now feel a little sorry for that guy.

I didn't want alcohol. I didn't want to bear through the band leading up to my friend's band. I wanted connection. So I left and headed to a nearby coffeehouse. While the music wasn't my style and the spoken word was downright horrible, I did get to spend time with two good friends who waved me to their table even though they had no idea I was going to show up. In fact, I'd been putting off going with them to this coffeehouse, so I was a little sheepish to just show up.

It was a great time. And while there were no fancy drinks, crunching guitars, or uber-alt-fashions, I got to connect with two wonderful friends.

So, the contrast I spoke of at the beginning: Even though, in the grand scheme of things, a rock show is more my idea of fun than painful poetry read to an audience of caffine-buzzed teenagers, it was the people that made the difference.

When confronted with a person that we disagree with and who will not listen to good reasoning, whether a close friend or an avoided aquaintance, we have one of two options:

1) Be pleasantly surprised by their unique point of view

or

2) Choose to love 'em through their bad, bad reasoning (we've all been there...doing the bad reasoning, that is)

A lot of problems come when we think that we have more options than these.