A Very Short Story

It was 2:30 AM and I was suddenly awake.  Where the hell was I?  How long had I been asleep?  Where I lay was comfortable enough  but I still felt the confusion of complete disorientation.  Louise had been there.  I knew that for sure.
Or had she?
My fist was clinched and my jaw set.  My muscles at the ready.  What was going on?  I had to consciously tell myself to relax.
Focus.
Music.  Loud blaring music.
I could move; I wasn't pinned down at all and it was dark.  Had Louise done this to me?
I ventured a muffled sentence, "Louise, are you there?"
The music was still blaring.
Focus.
I was laying on my stomach, on a bed and my muscles were taut, again.  "Louise, if you're there, answer me you bitch."
Just music.
I rolled to my side and my naked skin touched something small and glass.  It fell to the floor and clinked against more glass.
Emotions began to precipitate; anger, confusion, misery.  I sat up slowly, pivoting in place and bringing my legs around to hang off of the side of the bed.  Placing my feet on the floor, my skin touched cold glass, for a second time.
I pulled my foot in away in sudden shock but soon overcame and allowed my foot to firmly rest on the floor.  Beneath my hardened sole, I felt the smooth curves of the glass.  There were bottles-- all of them empty-- littered and strewn about all around the bed.
A wave of feelings: desire, disappointment, angst; somehow connected to the empty bottles on the floor.
Mechanically, my hand reached out to the stand, next to the bed.  I found a phone and easily lit up the screen.  Force of habit.  Checking for forms of communication, blinded by the light, I turned the phone away disappointed.
"Damn you, Louise."
Everything was so hazy.  I knew Louise had been there.  Just hours before.
Just hours before.
Just hours before.
Just hours before, she had been sitting next to me, her feet planted where the empty bottle now lie.  Or was I just dreaming?
"You just bring me down," she had said. "I wonder if I could do better," she had said.
Nausea.
Attempting to stand, my face met the floor and all was black.  Again.
The music continued to blare.

geronimo.

This video is so 90's, I almost can't stand it. (split the infinitive right there; I do what I want.)

I’m not sky diving nervous, nor am I high dive or monsters-under-my-bed or put-on-this-armor-and-mount-this-horse-for-tomorrow-we-slay-the-dragon nervous.  I think I’m just roller coaster nervous. You know what I mean?  As your cart clicks toward the top, a certain sense of apprehension kind of fills your chest.  Like some sort of beast that is trying for force it’s way out. But not through your mouth or urinary tract; no no, it’s trying to come right between your lugs, through your rib cage and out.  It’s a pressure that makes your hands shake a little bit.  You take confidence in the fact that you won’t die on a roller coaster.  But the almost-terror is there. 
That’s how I feel.

You know the term “fake it until you make it”?  That’s been me for the last couple of years.  I feel like I have been chucked into this whirlwind of opportunity and I’m only quasi-prepared.  I confidently accept the offers that come my way and try my best to excel, but with every new opportunity I think, “Holy crap, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to actually do that.” 
Tomorrow, I’m running the live sound for the Syd Riggs show.  I’m really really excited.  It’s going to be such a great experience.  But I haven’t ever done this before and I seriously don’t know that I’m going to be able to pull it off.  ha ha ha.  It’s that apprehension that I was describing before: that nervousness that makes your hands quiver a little bit.  It’s pushing on my chest and makes my heart rate increase.  But it’s not something that is going to kill me.  I’ll wake up sunday morning breathing just as well as Saturday morning.

I mean, look at this beast:

Are you intimidated? So am I and I know what every knob does.

I'm being melodramatic.  You and I both know it.

I'm not actually intimidated by the board.  Everything is going to be great.  There might be a few hiccups, here and there, but it’s going to be great and I sincerely believe that.  I just want it to be everything that it can be. 
I'm going to sleep now, and tomorrow I run a pair of shows for the masses.  Cross your fingers and say your prayers.
Here I go.
Geronimo.

What I'm trying to say

That song rocks you guys.  And it resounds with me.
Can I just talk about my life really quick?  let's talk about it.
For the new year, I was going to get a gym membership (ever since I quite applebee's, I've been getting fatter) but instead, I bought myself a weighted jump rope and called it good.  ha ha.  So each night, before I go to bed, I jump 100 times with both feet followed by 25 jumps for each foot alone.  So like, 150 jumps in total.  It kills me.  I let my heart rate slow down, I do 25 pushups and then I do another 150.
So, tonight, now that I'm done doing my mini work out, I'm sitting on my bed, breathing heaving and listening to the song that I posted above.
About 3 years ago, Tiffany Robertson dumped me.  I took it very poorly.  During one of our final arguments, she talked to me about how I wasn't getting any experience and that I needed to get out there.  She told me that my degree wouldn't be enough and that experience was everything.  What she said rang very true.
So after we broke up, I started my own company, Tan Top Records(click on the link and like the page.  C'mon.  Support me!).  The company didn't really make me any money.  I wasn't very good at it at first and the space I was in wasn't conducive to a real studio sound.  But I learned a lot.  Having my own business gave me the opportunity to expand and learn how to mix music properly.
After Tiffany, I dated Kelly.  Kelly watched me as I tried to get my business off the ground.  She watched me as I tried to bring people into my parents basement and record their crappy (and sometimes really crappy) music.  Finally, after months of trying to get my bird off the ground, an opportunity arose.  A job at the beloved Hale Center Theater in Orem.  The only reason I got it was because Kelly worked there and mentioned that I had had experience.
They hired me and I began my career as an audio technician for Hale Center Theater.  And you know what? I'm 100% content.  I don't want to do anything else for the rest of my life.  That's how much I love my job.  Because of it, I'm learning light design (which I also love) and I'm mixing for a live show coming up in February called Why We Tell The Story If you care about me at all, you'll go and check it out, because I'm STOKED about it. STOKED STOKED STOKED.
It also put me in touch with a friend named Meagan who hired me on to work on an independent film called GruntSlingers.  Again, if you care about me at all, you'll click on that link and like the page.  It'll give you cool updates so you can see my work! hooray!
The point of this blog is not to plug my goings-on.  It's to show that ever since Tiffany dumped me, my life has kind of been guided.  As I prepare and learn, I'm given more and more opportunity.  My life is fantastic and I'm not even trying to make it that way.  It just is.
I don't know what I'm trying to say.  I'm just very grateful for everything; for my talents and opportunities. 
I'm grateful to God for giving them to me.
I really do love all of you.
I love you for reading, for supporting me and for putting up with my random, emo status updates on facebook.
Keep it real, b.

getting real with the blog

I don't want to be your other half, I believe that one and one make two.

Listen, I've got to talk to you about something serious.  I'm sure you've seen this coming for a while now, it's not quite the same as before, was it?  Things have changed and it almost seems like they can't be fixed.  
You've got to understand.  In the spring of our relationship, we were inseparable, weren't we?  We were together, almost everyday.  I remember feeling anxious to come home so that I could tell you about my day.  I remember taking notes about men that I saw, sitting and eating, with the hopes that I could share it with you.  I felt like you understood me and I could say anything I wanted.  You understood me and you never judged.

But then, summer ended and school began.  I became too busy for you; I was doing homework and working on important projects; things that would further my life.  And my future became more important than you.  I reprioritized and found that you were in the middle of the stack; somewhere beneath work, school and recording but somewhere above video games and Dragon Ball Z.  It just got so crazy and you got lost.  
If you want the truth, I got bored. We were just a fling.  That's all we were.  I know it seemed like more and I know it could have been more.  I just wasn't as committed as I thought I was. It happened so fast and I promised more than I could possibly deliver.  You were too perfect and I need a little bit more drama in my life.  It's not you, it's me. 
I'm sorry that I called you a fling.  It seems harsh, but that's what you were.  I can't be tied to you like I was all last summer.  I can only write so often; I'm just too busy.  I love everything about you: the strength you give me, the courage and the clarity.  But you can't wait for me.  I'm moving forward.  I'm moving up and I'm moving on.
If you must know, I do have other journals.  I am more intimate with them, but that doesn't mean I care for them any more or less than you.  The relationship is different.  What you and I have is so different from what I have with them.
Of course, we can still be friends, my dear blog.  I'll write as often as I can, believe me when i tell you that.  You're one of the best things I've ever discovered.  It just won't work as more than a casual writing experience.

see you around,
Andrew J Keele

Merry Christmas!

This one is for Kelly:

Okay, listen, you guys.  It's been about two or three weeks since my last day at applebee's.  I knew that it was slowly killing me and that over the last six years I have only compromised my standards and morals to make money.  I knew that.  But I didn't know to what degree it was killing me.  I didn't realize how miserable it was making me.  So to all of my friends and coworkers at Applebee's I want to issue this blanket apology:  I'm sorry for being a douche. 
I compare it to being in the ocean.  The ocean is freezing at first, but as you get out, your body adjusts and kind of starts to lose feeling.  Temporarily, that sort of thing is fine but over the long term, I don't think it's very healthy.  And that's kind of what happened with Applebee's.  I came back from my mission and swore I would only work at Applebee's for a minute.  I'd get some cash flow going on and then quit.  But that didn't happen.  I lingered and got comfortable.  As I compromised myself for comfort and convenience, I slowly grew embittered; day by day, month by month.
Now that I am free of Applebee's, I feel like I can breathe again.  I wish everyone I meet a merry christmas and I feel compelled to be kind to people, without motivation or expectation of anything in return.
I haven't spent money in four days and that's the price I pay for quitting a job that pays pretty well.  But I don't care.  I don't mind living on a budget and scrimping by if it means that I can be content in life.  Everything is going to be fine.  I know it.
So, in conclusion, I wish all of you fellow Applebee's friends and coworkers a merry christmas! Thanks for all of the good times.

Christmas is coming soon.  For the first time in a very long time, I don't have to work on Christmas Eve (Last year, my final table stayed about an hour after we closed on Christmas Eve.  I was at Applebee's until about 11:00 PM.  Can you believe that?  Where' the humanity?? Anyway, they didn't even tip me, so as they walked out the door, I shouted "merry Christmas, bitches."  The dad turned and looked at me as he was walking out the door.  I was pretty bugged).  I'm so excited!  I'm excited to spend free time with family, to build fires and just hang out.  I think I really love Christmas.
Another thing, I'm currently running Christmas Carol on Tues., Thurs., and Sat. nights.  I really think all of you should come and see this play.  It's beautiful.  Chris(the guy that plays scrooge) is brilliant.  There have only been like, three shows that haven't made me cry.  It's beautiful and if you want to come see it, text or message me.  I'll see if I can get you in.

I love you for reading.
Do what you love.
Merry Christmas.
As ever,
AJK

I'm not scared.

For all those with ears to hear, let them hear:

You guys.  I did it.  I quit applebee's.  It was magical, I say.  MAGICAL.  Last friday night, I was at my bar, thinking about this oncoming month of December and how busy it's going to be, and I thought "Enough."  It's honestly like something snapped within me.  All of the pressure, all of the compromise, all of the irritating people; enough. 
You see, I bar tend.  I tend bar.  However, I don't drink.  When people sit down at my bar and ask me what's good, I lie to them about what I think is good and suggest popular drinks.  If they want to know the difference between two drinks, I act like I know.  It's a lot of compromise, you see?  I'm not an advocate of alcohol; I'm not!  I don't think it's a good thing.  Taking religion completely out of the equation, I think it ruins lives and families and puts people's lives at risk.  Do you know how many people out there drink and drive?  I'll clue you in: All of them. Ok, maybe not all of them, but I would say about 90% of the people that come and sit at my bar leave without a designated driver. 
Putting religion back into the equation, my religion explicitly states that alcohol is bad! That it's not to be consumed.  How can I look someone dead in the eye and tell them how good a Perfect Margarita is?  There's so much conflict.
It's been a long 6 years of compromise and I'm done.
I don't have a backup plan.  I don't have a way to replace that money, but I've made a good choice- one that will further my life and soul- and I'm confident that God will support me.
I'm not scared. 
I am excited for Christmas; I am excited to cut down a tree and decorate it; I am excited for crooners on the radio singing gentle songs about love peace.  I want someone to decorate my tree with and sit next to my fireplace while watching Charlie Brown's Christmas or It's a Wonderful Life. 
What is happening to me?
I love you for reading and I'm sorry I haven't been as faithful. 
Stupid school.
I love you.
Happy Thanksgiving

I told him a really funny joke

Well.  Something weird has happened to me, you guys.  It happened to me on Saturday night and I wonder (if I may be so melodramatic) if I will ever be the same.
Every now and then, I go over to my sister, Renee's house to do my laundry.  She is kind enough to leave that service available to me and it's nice to go and see my little nephew Jagger.  He and I are like, best friends.  We sword fight, wrestle, I throw him higher into the air than most people are comfortable with; he loves me and I love him.  Here's a picture of he and I, right after I told him a really funny joke:

He's shirtless because he was busy being really awesome.
Anyway, Jagger hasn't ever inspired the thought or feeling of "Man, I want my own kids."  In fact, that thought hasn't ever come without being beckoned by some ornery and incredulous female companion.  Here's what I'm trying to say:  I haven't ever really, truly wanted kids.  I haven't ever had an interest in extending my lineage or living through them or blah blah blah whatever other stupid crap that people say about the matter.  But on Saturday, as I wrestled with him, I felt something.  I mean, I felt something.  Like some sort of bitter medicine, the thought "Maybe I would like this kind of bond, this kind of companionship in my life" came.  And, not only did it come, but it is lingering!  Lingering I say! It won't leave me.
The feeling has left me feeling terribly lonely, as well.  I've always been fine being alone.  I don't mind it and I actually kind of guard it rather jealously.  But this feeling takes me being alone and changes it to me being lonely.  My priorities are suddenly jumbled.  I have always had a plan and something going on; I've always known, kind of, exactly what I was doing and where I was going.  But now, I feel so... wayward.  ha ha ha.
My name is Andrew Keele and for the first time in my entire life, I'll admit it:  I want to have kids.
You don't understand, I bet.  I'm really more selfish than you think I am. Here are some things I want: to travel the world; to drive a nice, fast car; nice carpet and a studio downstairs, in my basement. Here are some things I don't want: to wake up at 6 am to make sure that my kids get to school; to wake up in the middle of the night to some screaming baby; to have to cancel a movie night or a night at a play because one of my kids is sick.
I could go on and on.  But here's the point:  for the first time, I find that the bond and love of and from children could outweigh all of those stupid, material things that I hold in such high regard.
What is happening to me?
this has been an insightful post.
I love you for reading.
Keep the faith.