Our Space

I headed off to LA at six hoping that my cruising speed would be slow enough so traffic wouldn't bother me much. How right I was. Since I drive so damn slow, by the time I hit the congestion areas in Irvine and beyond, much of the traffic had already died down and I arrived in Rowland Heights five minutes before eight, exactly on schedule for a reunion dinner with my "kids."

It's been a whole year since I've seen everyone convened in one spot. Actually it's been a whole year since I've seen any of them save Raymond, who periodically came down to San Diego to hang out, play guitar with James, and generally bum about with me. I miss them, the whole group, with all the little stories, jokes, and routines that would occur, the types of things that can't be replicated without the drudgery of office life to push things along. It wasn't drudgery for me, of course, because it was fun, and they were an awesome and mostly industrious group.

I can't imagine working in an office again, especially without a group of people that I like and get along with. I know I'm going to have to return to an office at some point but the last experience was so good, working with friends old and new, that it's probably the best it's ever going to get. Plus, when will I ever get to manage again? I mean, my management style was more summer camp counselor than anything else but I'd like to think we got what we needed to get done. Would that look good on a resume? "We got what we needed to get done, mostly."

My theory on managing people is that if you treat them well they'll want to do good work for you. I know that seems a bit optimistic, and that leaves you prone to being taken advantage of, but the alternative is to be a hard ass and that's no fun. I guess I've just been around a lot of shitty managers in my short stints of real work. Managers who either had no clue what was going on, managers who didn't know how to delegate, train, or motivate, and managers who just generally seemed incredibly incompetent. The qualities that I'd look for in a good manager are surprisingly hard to find and it's a wonder how so many middle aged idiots are in positions of power. I mean, not that I'd complain if I soon became one of these idiots but seriously, why are they managing anything?

It would be nice to be given the chance again to manage something. Many of my friends and peers are now managers, supervisors, heads of departments, and I'd love to be able to see them at work. It would be so interesting to compare their normal selves with their work selves. Would evaluating them through the lens of a job make me see them differently? Undoubtedly right?

Working at Omnis, Vy and I could fight like cats and dogs but outside of work we got along famously. It's such a weird thing to think that you'd clash in one area while getting along superbly in all other respects. It makes me want to take the business challenge with all of my friends. Would we end up hating each other? Would we lose or gain respect for our way of doing things? I feel like it could be quite the revelation.

The majority of P-Unit (processing unit) is now finishing up school, and have either moved on to other jobs or are planning to step out into the post-collegiate world. For some of them, Omnis was their first office type job. I wonder how they'll look back on that experience after a few years sludging around. I always told the kids that real work was nothing like this. You don't get to mingle with a hundred other people your age, it's not like a big social thing. Real work sucks man, so enjoy this little island of youth while you can. But I'm sure they didn't believe me. I wouldn't have believed me if I was them.

During the time I was finishing up the first draft of the book, I was at Omnis and ended up using a few names, character traits, and fashion styles of the kids I was working with. Unfortunately, some of the side characters and details got changed but even thinking about the world I was enveloped in at the time, between the writing and the job, brings a smile to my face as I recall carefully studying people's outfits, mannerisms, and general attitudes and little sayings. It was a fucking good time.

Day 127

Listening to: Andrew Bird. Susie sent me one of his songs a while ago, with the intriguing title "a nervous tic motion of the head to the left." Since then I've gotten lots of semi-indie cred if it ever pops up in the car or whatnot. It's an awesome song. I recently downloaded Armchair Apocrypha and Soldier On to listen to. If he blows up I can pretend I knew him when. But not really.

The better part of my day was spent going through Fimoculous' 30 Most Notable Blogs of 2008. I swear I clicked on nearly every link and gave everything the once over, just to find some new things to read. I woke up at 2:30pm, napped twice, and it's just about to get light out. The only truly productive thing I've done all day is help my mom disassemble the Christmas tree, packing it away until next year. I wondered if I'd ever want to go through the trouble of putting up my own Christmas tree. I doubt it.

While it looks pretty and lends holiday spirit to any room, the idea of assembling, decorating, and tearing it down year after year seems pointless. Then again, if I had children I guess that would be reason enough to do it, if only to give them some nice warm memories. There's a lot pointless things I'd have to do if I had children. Mainly, celebrate. And eat regularly.

Of greater concern is how I can get myself a permanent supply of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Shortbread Stars (a life changing gift from Steve). I fear they will disappear from store shelves soon and that just wouldn't do. I only have five stars left and I'm rationing them at two a day. Would it be absolutely ridiculous to go buy twenty boxes now?

The find of the day is Molly Young, who reminds me slightly of technicolor.org -- very slightly. "[Molly] writes in that hyper-literate but still somehow accessibly intimate way that make all her blog posts read like entries in one of those diaries that score its author a publishing contract."

"Of all the bad things a person can be, 'boring' was my bête noire from the age of consciousness until mid-college. This is probably because I was so often paralyzed in social interactions, unable to think of anything to say or do. In fact, a good amount of the time I passed alone was spent stocking up on Things To Say. I used to keep a small notebook with reminders of funny anecdotes, news items, novelties and jokes to sprinkle into conversation. I even consulted the book (discreetly) during interactions to freshen my supply. It didn't work very well -- I often had to shoehorn unrelated sentences into topical conversations -- but it was better than being a blank.

Now things are more fluid up there, but only among those I know well."
-Public opinion is a tyrant-

How Lucky

Listening to: Indigo Swing, "The Way We Ought To Be."

For awhile there, in 1998-ish, right around when I got my first official girlfriend, I was really into swing dancing. A lot of people were I think, due to the release of Swingers and Swing Kids. The summer previous, George, Grace, and I had taken a ballroom dancing class at UCSD, which seems like such an odd thing for us to do. But I remember it being pretty fun. We might have also gone to a few swing dancing classes in San Diego somewhere.

I personally liked the swing scene for the shoes. I loved the two tone shoes. I actually never got my own pair but I just loved looking at them and Stacey, the girlfriend, had some. Paired with her signature argyle socks, I thought they looked cool as hell. One of the first times I visited her in Santa Cruz, we went out to a swing club. The venue was two stories, with a huge dance floor and everyone was dressed up and had serious style and moves. I sucked, as usual -- mastering the six count and triple step was beyond me -- and was mostly just entranced by the film to life aspect of it all.

The band for the night was Indigo Swing, who rocked the shit out of the house and I immediately fell in love with them. After buying their CD and listening to them non-stop, they happened to come to Ann Arbor randomly and some of us went out to watch them there too. For a few weeks afterwards, we did the whole swing thing in Michigan, going around to various spots on campus to learn, dance, and gawk.

I wonder if some people template on their first girlfriends. For example, I feel like after Stacey, I have tended to date variations on her theme. I always end up in relationships with the same type of girl. The super nice, slightly quirky, and often very privately guarded type of girl who is social and giving and always well liked by everyone they come into contact with. Something about that personality attracts me and vice versa, even if on paper it's nothing I would list as looking for in a girl. We always get along famously, right off the bat, and I think somewhere in there, they're surprised by how damn nice I can be and that's a straight shot to their heart. I'm the nice guy who dates the nice girl, end of story, happy ending. But it never quite works out that beautifully.

All through my retellings of my failures as a boyfriend (past, present, future), I always say that I was a really good boyfriend the first time around. Stacey and I were long distance for the entire nine months or so we were together and saw each other maybe once every six weeks. She never came out to Michigan, I always flew to Santa Cruz, which seems strange in retrospect. For the first semester of my junior year, I worked at a campus coffee shop in order to pay for the flights and the phone calls. And we were on the phone constantly. The East to West coast time change was perfect for me. I had time to hang out with my friends all night long and still return to catch her around midnight California time. I don't think it would have worked out quite as well if we were geographically reversed, I'm strictly a late night guy.

We were constantly sending packages back and forth. I made an extraordinary array of cards, puzzles, remember me forever items, and wrote letters that rambled on for pages. This was like first relationship magic and I was 110% committed and we never had any problems. We just missed the hell out of each other and there were a few times we'd have to part and I'd be all teary and crying and stuff. It was so Nicholas Sparks.

Everything spiraled downhill quickly though. By second semester, my school life got busier and I was unable to spend as much time on the phone and doing things. As I've now learned, when you set those attention benchmarks high, any significant dip and the other party will start worrying about if you care for them the same way. I don't recommend the smother and retreat method, that one's not in the handbook.

I suggested somewhere around month five that we might consider taking a break. "A break" were the words she least wanted to hear because her previous boyfriend had suggested the same thing and then had subsequently broken up entirely. In my eyes, a break was defined as "we're still together but we just need to not talk as much." To her, a break was the same thing as a break up. Bad choice of words on my part. That miscommunication led to tension, fighting, and eventually I lost my patience with the entire thing, dragging our relationship carcass for another few months before I abruptly ended things in June, right when we could have spent some quality time together.

Now that I think about it, that might be a relationship theme too, I tend to date girls right when they've just gotten out of a painful relationship. I'm either that rebound guy or I'm pouncing when they're defenseless. Your call.

Another thing I've noticed in my exes is that they tend to have similar ways of dealing with their frustrations or issues. They hold it in, bottle it up, and then it all comes blowing out when the lid pops off. Is there some sort of archetype here I should be aware of? I used to be convinced that I was just coincidentally choosing this type of girl (every time) but recently I've been exploring how my issues with emotional communication might lead them to not talk about things. In the post-relationship feedback talks we had, I learned about a ton of things that Stacey had held in during our relationship. I'd like to think that I'm all ears and open to anything but in reality I probably present a very passively closed position.

Anyway, the take home lesson is for me to avoid the nice girl, that's what I've decided in theory. There must be an underlying reason why I'm constantly attracted to this type but I've yet to figure it out completely. It probably has to do with my insecurities, their insecurities, and some fatal but delicious meshing of the two. A medal and declaration of ultimate friendship to the person who can figure it all out and explain it to me.

Stacey had this amazing, super dark, lustrous hair, which was always admired and marveled at. I think I've imprinted on that too since girls with thick shiny hair that curls in a particular way are just well, irresistible.

"I've never been to Paris, France
I never learned how to ballroom dance
But she still giving me the chance, how lucky can one guy be

I never made a load of dough
I never been to a Broadway show
But to her I'm original Romeo, how lucky can one guy be

Her other boyfriends and the hopeful men, call her on telephone
But at the end of the night, she's holding me tight, and I'm the one taking her home"
-How Lucky-

Anything is Possible

Listening to: Kimya Dawson, "Tire Swing."

What to make of 2008? I can't say it's been a hard year but to be honest, it's been a hard year. If 2006 was the year of discovery, 2007 the year of recovery, then 2008 is the year of, well, something that rhymes with -covery. Whatever. I'm not even going to begin to complain because I haven't had a job for one day this year and the next time that'll happen will probably be awhile. Have I used all that free time wisely? Certainly not, but it hasn't been totally unproductive.

I've been going over past pictures, blogs, and journal entries in an effort to encapsulate what 2008 was about. For the most part, it felt disjointed, like big momentous things happened but then sped by to be replaced by long lulls where I sat home and itched for action. Let's just start with the stats of it all.

Best movies: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Iron Man, Planet B-Boy
Best books: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (M.Chabon), Love is a Mix Tape (R.Sheffield), How to be Alone (J.Franzen)
New friends made: Six
Contact lens prescription: -5.00 (left) and -4.75 (right), both increased slightly
Car odometer reads: 206,632 miles
Money wasted on online dating sites: $34.99
Web addresses bought: Two (jonwow.com and exclusivelychloe.com)
Twitter updates: 459
First five picks, fantasy basketball: C. Paul, A. Jefferson, C. Billups, A. Jamison, C. Anthony (currently number one)
First five picks, fantasy football: S. Jackson, L. Fitzgerald, M. Colston, R. Bush, J. Cutler (ended season in third place)
Buy a copy of EC (May 2009) and I earn: $0.40
Tagged photos of me on Facebook: 145
People kissed: Four
Music on repeat: Adele, Shortbus soundtrack, Girl Talk
Days I've been 30 years old: 122
MVL stock bought / sold: $30.25 (May) / $32.81 (Sep)
Money made from MVL stock: +$230.40
Colored iPhone apps: 18 blue, 8 red, 7 green, 15 orange/tan, 8 purple, 4 steel/neutral
Lowest Brain Tuner time: 15.62 seconds
Moblog entries: 293 (73 in August)
Blog entries: 63 hyperwest, 109 jonyangorg, 30 next thursday
Journal entries: 79
Movies seen in theaters: 37 (10 A, 12 B, 11 C, 4 D)
iTunes: 25,049 songs, 106.2 days, 123.84 gigs
Haribo gummy bears consumed: Infinity plus a handful

I collected approximately nine months worth of unemployment -- originally only six months, but George W. was kind enough to sign an extension during the summer. That allowed me to not only increase my savings but combined with living rent free at home all year, I didn't think about money once. Actually, I thought about it a lot but only how to use it. Would I buy new clothes, could I take more trips, should I buy trinkets? In the end, I didn't exactly splurge on anything, in an effort to conserve money for when unemployment ends, but I didn't penny pinch either. It was fun. For so long I've lived with the specter of having no money, or having to borrow, that I really enjoyed not even blinking at paying for things, or paying for other people's things. It's nice to buy people stuff, even if it's just a drink or dinner.

Unemployment ends in a week or so. My job hunt begins soon and barring a miracle, I'll be back at some terrible entry level job I hate. The trade off will (hopefully) be that I'm out of San Diego and moved up to somewhere like San Francisco. I dread the prospect of returning to a job but I won't even bitch about it because everyone else is dealing with real adult things like layoffs and keeping their jobs while still juggling bills. I have no job sure, but I also have no bills. And yes, I'm thirty.

As for writing, I've begun to become comfortable saying that I'm a writer. Until I could see the finish line for this book, I wasn't willing to say "writer" to describe myself unless pressed. Now, with it finished and completed, I'm willing to say, "I'm a writer," when someone asks what I do. I still feel like a sham about it but you are what you say you are. Unless you aren't. Either way, one of my goals for 2008, to actually try and start freelancing, failed miserably. I haven't technically had any writing responsibilities since July or so but I never got my act together to even try submitting articles, queries, or anything of the like. That goal will have to rollover I guess, like my minutes.

I attended four weddings this year (Stacey, PZ/Amy, Tien, Susan). I was not a bridesmaid for any of them, despite the release of Made of Honor in 2008 -- which I never saw, perhaps my fatal mistake. I guess that life goal will remain unchecked. My list of potential female friends who might even consider me to be bridesmaid status is quickly getting pared down though. So far nobody's been woman enough to shake things up and throw a great guy friend up there. C'mon people, someone be original. I'm running out of time! I've got a few dear friends planning weddings for next year so I'm keeping hope alive. I'm a size six and I look good in white (t-shirts).

The amazingly hopeful beginning of the year, filled with plans to travel to Southeast Asia with my fellow Dirty Thirty club members (James, Lynn, George) fell through. My grand plan to move to New York for the summer? Also fell through. The end of the year finds me where I swore I wouldn't be at the beginning; back at home, slumming in San Diego. Basically I'm all talk. I didn't move anywhere. No Hawaii, no overseas, no big international trips. I did manage to spend August in New York, make four separate trips to San Francisco, and a side trip to Washington DC. I could rally and go somewhere in January but that might cost me a month or two of rent when I move. Rent, trip, or new laptop? No brainer: laptop. Real brainer: rent. Not coming soon to an airport near you: me.

I guess it's okay though because now 2009 can start fresh and alive. "Hope" you know? On the very last day of 2008, the people I've called or talked to tonight to wish Happy New Year and such, the people whom I'm in constant daily contact with, are an entirely different group than a year ago. In fact, it feels a little bit like my close friend circle has changed. The old stalwarts, the people who've long dominated my late night, daily, and random but strangely consistent phone calls have all changed in the span of twelve months. This might not seem like much to you but for me, the bedrock of my general happiness and mini-socialness lies in these phone calls/texts/emails. So to have the whole bunch switch over has been really interesting.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I realized this had happened, when I'd fully replaced my habitual almost daily phone call person with someone new, that I saw the changes for what they were. The people I interact with, talk to, or know what's going on the most, are mostly people I didn't even know (or barely knew) last year. I'm not sure what that means exactly except that people move on, habits change, and my list of frequently dialed numbers has been altered for better or for worse.

On a sidenote, I'm currently working on a personalized friendship roles thingy based on this NBA Archetypes Hierarchy. More on that when it's done. I'm excited about it because I'm a retard and I get psyched about this stuff.

Part of what has made this year seem so topsy turvy is that matters of the heart have taken me far afield and into places I'd never expected. Technically speaking, I've been single for about a year and a half. As I navigate a continued friendship with my ex, I'd resolved to stay single for as long as possible to avoid hurting others (and myself I guess). Well that didn't exactly work out.

In the middle of the year, two really close friends and I got into this big old messy situation where we basically played two boys, one girl. As you can imagine, it was an awkward and emotionally wrenching couple of weeks. Not only was I facing the prospect of feeling alienated from my absolute best friend, it was also tied into complications and a new definition of friendship with my other friend. We sought solutions other than the obvious one of backing off, or having her choose, but in the end, I kind of just decided that I couldn't do it. Three way, open way, no way. I stepped out of the situation and to be honest, the awkwardness and emptiness of it all hasn't evaporated yet. C'est la vie.

I was either not brave enough or not crazy enough. Take your pick.

What I've learned (not necessarily from this situation), or hope to learn, is that it's not necessary that every time there is mutual attraction, there has to be a jump to hyper speed and a relationship. That's not an easy lesson to let sink in after years of indoctrination in the "date for marriage" school of thought. If anything, I'm incredibly fearful that I only know how to react to romance seriously, instead of lightly or from a "let's see what happens" approach. It'll be a nice lesson to explore and learn because I freaking suck at serious romance.

I tried to stay attachment free heading into 2009 (and flippantly I always said 2010) but in the end, I kind of failed. But happily. I'm sort of, kind of, definitely dating someone now and while that's an entirely scary thought with my horrendous track record, it is exciting and hopefully results in only the best. I think I learned quite a bit from my last attempt at a relationship and those lessons will ideally carry over into the new year, and into this new thing. "Keeping it real," as a friend of mine always wisely says. Wish me luck.

I guess that about covers it. 2008 in a nutshell. I'll end this with five great times, in chronological order.

(1) Going to the Super Bowl in Arizona with James, as an indentured servant for Okapix.
(2) The Celtics win their 17th championship. I misplace a $1500 winning ticket. Whoops.
(3) PZ and Amy's Wedding and the New York trip in general. Seeing Amit every day for like a month.
(4) Re-meeting my cousins, Cleo and Tiana, after seven years. They're totally grown up now and super fun and amazing.
(5) All the San Francisco trips, complete with oyster shucking, mash up parties, Little Mermaid sing-a-longs, 30th birthday celebrations, and Stevie Wonder-full.

Melancholy & the Infinite Sadness

I had a poetry class with Charlie (Black Eye Sunrise) years ago, at UCSD. I'd never written any poetry before, not really, and it's absolutely criminal that we were in the same class. I think his pieces are incredible and I could read them all day, which I basically do.

No More Poems to the Dead
Listen,
Be still for a moment.
In the year that I lost you
I drank more than I ate,
Roads stank of curbs
Which reeked of red
And peered over
Looming space.
I said:
Hear now, in the hour of my undoing,
I reject you, oh my dead friend,
Your fearful symmetry cannot fold me
Into the syllogism of paper cranes.
We are done,
Finally.
There is nothing left of us
Not even a memory,
Not even love,
And this evening is just
Another crest
Against the chest
While my heart still beats
To be broken.

Tweet Tweet

Just in time for California's enactment of the ban on text messaging while driving, I changed my texting plan to unlimited. This was inspired by George stating that she was really close to her 1500 texts limit. I casually checked how many I'd used and was shocked to see that I was already 150+ over for the month -- at three cents per -- with another whole week to go. 1500 sounds like a shit load of texts (average twenty five a day) but when you have Twitter, and Loopt, dumping into your text message cue, that can add up quick.

Two years ago, I was texting with a closet friend a ton. Like at least ten times a day, which I thought was a lot of texting. (Recently I've been cranking out 50+ texts a day to just one person, I'm breaking new personal records). That volume of texting would get me in major trouble from my then girlfriend because she couldn't understand what there was to talk about every day -- and I couldn't properly or patiently explain that it was all trivial details but part of a larger important over-arching conversation. I just told her to please make it not bother her, which didn't work in the slightest. I kept texting though since I'm an ass and don't like to concede things.

One thing I love about eating dinner with guys (or techie and phone addicted girls) is that nobody gives a shit if you're not looking at them directly. With my Sidekick keyboard I could hold a conversation and text at the same time. Sure it was a bit rude but seriously, I was capable of paying full attention to both. I can multi-task... sort of. Fiddling around on the phone while eating dinner with a girl, or the girlfriend, will get you stared down and hated on. Truth. Anyway, I'm ready to be an unlimited texting machine. Bring it on.

Our week/end spent as the Fantastic Foursome (George, Dann, Steve, and I) was great because we always had iPhone or G1 in hand. That's not terribly different than when we hang out with the San Diego boys, but this was like a new tech grouping and not only were people constantly on their phones -- George was probably a bit too much actually, she is seriously super addicted -- but it got a bit crazy with us Twittering mundane things upstairs and downstairs to each other, or through bathroom walls. Other people following our Twitters must have been like "What the hell is going on here? Why are they talking about if they're awake or not?!?" Basically, since our Twitter circle is so small at the moment, it's just serving as a platform for mass public texting. But seriously, it's pretty addictive and you can't really understand the impact of how it brings you together into the day to day aspects of your friends' lives until you actually try it and make an effort to get involved. Twitter combats loneliness man, it makes you feel like part of a team.

Everyone get on Twitter right now, find an appropriate Twitter app for your smartphone (I like Twitterfon best for the iPhone), and then friend me -- or go create your own Twitter community and see how fun/useful it is.

Day 114

Listening to: Usher's Caught Up. I wonder how long it would take me to learn how to head bob like they do in the video. And if I would ever want to do it in public.

It's the night before Christmas and all through the house, everyone is sleeping, and well, I'm up I guess. Dann is crashed out on my bed and he just rolled over to announce something like, "DSL6. Do you use it to get special privileges? Because I wouldn't." I didn't grab my camera in time but I'm poised and hoping that he says something cryptic again. Perhaps he's revealing G**gle secrets. I should mic that boy up. He showed up at the airport packing a brand new G1 Android Phone. He's been leaving a trail of bread crumbs about his awesome new toy but we, his Twitterati, couldn't figure it out in time. So now I might be a little bit jealous. I mean, the phone seems pretty awesome. I'm almost afraid to play with it in case I like it.

He's gone silent. Must keep camera on high alert anyway.

Since spending the month in SF with George, I've gotten into the habit of checking up on her in the middle of the night. She tends to read before sleeping and falls asleep with her glasses on and the lights bright. I sneak in there, take off her glasses, turn off the lights, and if I were really nice, would probably think about sliding a bookmark in for her. But I'm not that nice. Strangely, she's still up right now (3:57am), working through the last pages of "The Time Traveler's Wife." Must be a good book. I'm going to go check on her again.

She's out. But as soon as I turned off the light she woke up and startled me. "What're you doing?! Where's Dann?" I assured her nothing exciting was going on and walked away. "Don't close the door!" Fine, fine, sheesh.

Tomorrow the holiday festivities start. My mom has two huge Chinese dinners scheduled for Wednesday and Thursday. She's stressed about hosting, I'm stressed about entertaining the kids (anyone 30-under), and George is just stressed to have people everywhere -- plus she's kind of had a big day. I'm looking forward to it all though. There's a sense of mystery about how the dinners will go and once the weekend hits, the SD folk will gather post-holiday obligations and Steve from LA will be driving down for major debauchery.

More like video games, bowling, karaoke, food, and movies, but we'll just call it debauchery okay? Dann's never been to San Diego before so it's paramount that we show him a good time. I can't decide if him passed out face down on my bed counts as a good or bad start.

I've been alternately on the phone and emailing. I've got my late night people and everyone's up. Plus a few randoms. A friend texted me because she went to the bathroom and now I'm keeping her up with a flurry of replies. We'll see each other tomorrow so the conversation could really wait. But that's the fun isn't it? Amit commented on my Facebook status change at seven in the morning his time. I wonder what he's doing up so early. I hope he was out late and causing social ruckus or something. Generally speaking this week, I know it's time for bed when Mary (who's in Darfur) logs onto Gchat. But I just remembered she went off on some treacherous expedition or something. A vacation she called it.

Time to call it a night then. Happy pre-Christmas.

"The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter."