One Merry Elf, Please

The office I work in has an annual Christmas party and this year, I was invited.  I work with a lot of middle-aged people.  I'm the youngest on staff next to a 31 year old girl named Lindsay.  I'm also the only dude aside from the Doctor himself.  Not the actual Doctor, mind you, but this periodontist guy named Roger.  Roger, I believe, is short for Bill.  As if you didn't already know.


I was allowed a plus one, so I called up Josi and asked if she'd like to go.  She said yes, we planned it out, and I picked her up this evening for a drive down to Bandon.  We ate at The Wheelhouse and it was delicious.  This juicy piece of chicken I ate was covered in pesto, cilantro, jalapeno, and feta.  OhmygoditwasAMAZING.  A piece of vanilla cheesecake and chocolate swirl to top it off was just perfect.


Doctor sang an Elvis Presley classic while his current (as in, here today gone tomorrow) girlfriend wrapped her arms around his neck and overbounced.  What a dork.  Both of 'em.


(EDIT) This was a dull post.  I realize that in hindsight.  

Welcome Back, Keither

Today I re-read a bunch of older blog posts I've made, both here on Blogger and also on Xanga. Now, I'll be the first to say that I'm not as wonderfully skilled a writer as I'd like to think. But I'd have to hold my tongue if you said I had more passion, more zest, more connection back then. I can see it in my posts, I can see it in comments that were left. And I've certainly had the thought cross my mind more than once in the past few years.

My faith invigorated me.

It made me feel kinetic.

It made me feel alive.

I think I'm searching for my alternative.

The would-be faith that I can feel in my bones.

A reason to be excited about life again.

Think I'll find it?