100 days ago, I started a blogging project to talk about 100 things that I’m grateful for. It was an amazing exercise for me, even though I only managed to write down 36 of them.

The timing of the project was meant to coincide with the end, not the beginning. I meant for it to end January 20, 2009. The day that I finally saw a politician that I respect, a man I look up to, take the oath of office. I had tears in my eyes and love in my heart as I watched him inspire us all again, with thousands of my fellow San Franciscans in the beautiful California sunshine. I have profound regret for not following my father’s advice, or my heart, and working as hard on this campaign as I did with Kerry, but I also have such a shared sense of pride with My Fellow Americans, to have done as much as we all could do in our own ways.

My project started for other reasons too though. Part of it was to prove to the world that I’m hippie enough to try and find something beautiful in the day, and that I’m not ashamed to be proud of it. But the real reason, above dates and public displays, above ideals and politics, was that I was depressed.

I needed a way out of a long dark hallway. Ideas created in my own head that no longer served anyone’s best interests held fast around me then, and the only way I could see to get out was just to try to find something good. anything good. So I went looking. Looking in the way that I live my everyday; I’ve not been the guy to take the vow of silence, the solo hike on the Appalachian trail, or the trek across faraway lands. I enjoy the nuance and the detail of every seemingly mundane day. And I found some things. Sometimes it was forced, but soon enough, I found a way to take that joy into myself instead of just observing it, and writing things down mattered less.

I found a new friend and embarked on another 100 day journey, this of the body and not the mind with pushups! I found a playmate, have been kind, and smiled more.

But all that considered, Really? The day it got better? I fucking put on the Pink song “So What” the morning of December 1, and I played it OVER and OVER and OVER again. And then I turned the volume up a lot, and I played it AGAIN and AGAIN. And then I got in my car, and put all the windows down, and turned the stereo up as loud as I could bear, and played it ON REPEAT again and again. And I shit you not, I broke myself. I had this huge dark, scary, omnipresent, bad cloud over my head, and no amount of therapy can ever stand up to POP MUSIC.

I bought my ticket. I’m going to Brazil to see one of my best pals, J next. I’m ready for the next thing. But before I go, here’s what I saw today:

ps: Right now, I can see a Zeppelin flying over San Francisco from my big comfy chair, with the best cat in the world in my lap, and I’ve got to say that I think that’s all pretty great.

pps: i haven’t had a drink or more than one coffee in four days. but don’t let that colour your perception of the above