Wow, so almost 3 months since my last post. The only thing I'm consistent at is inconsistency :( Ho hum.
I wanted to write more, but I'm exhausted. So bye, I have thoughts too, you know
Friday, July 1, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
A filler post today, seeing as how I want to type and I need to type but I don't really know what to type about.
So tell me, five or so people who read my blog (and that's a generous guess), what's new with you? I know I'm exhausted right now. I've had something going every day for the past week: work, school, work & school, family stuff, etc. Tomorrow is a much needed day off, and I plan to take advantage of that. I don't know exactly how I'm going to do that, but that's the plan.
Anyway, anything grinding your gears? Anything new in your lives? Anyone new in your lives? Please leave a comment. Or if you're a facebook friend, message me. Or text me. Whatever works for you. I'd be happy to listen. Even if you need to vent, I'll be there. I make a good punching bag :) But whatever's going on, please don't hesitate to tell me. I want to know, because I have thoughts too, you know.
So tell me, five or so people who read my blog (and that's a generous guess), what's new with you? I know I'm exhausted right now. I've had something going every day for the past week: work, school, work & school, family stuff, etc. Tomorrow is a much needed day off, and I plan to take advantage of that. I don't know exactly how I'm going to do that, but that's the plan.
Anyway, anything grinding your gears? Anything new in your lives? Anyone new in your lives? Please leave a comment. Or if you're a facebook friend, message me. Or text me. Whatever works for you. I'd be happy to listen. Even if you need to vent, I'll be there. I make a good punching bag :) But whatever's going on, please don't hesitate to tell me. I want to know, because I have thoughts too, you know.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Oh Gosh I Love All-Nighters!
Ha! Ha ha ha! I'm laughing my head off! Because I'm pulling an all-nighter! And I finally just finished the paper! It's a group project! And guess who offered to write the summary of the project, not realizing that in doing so he was committing himself to write a full academic paper? This guy! And now, I'm so frazzled that I'm writing a blog post in all exclamations! I lied! There's a few questions involved too! I just ate a bagel! It was delicious! I'm writing this about a movie that me and my partners picked out before any of us had seen it! The movie wasn't all that good! No plot, no nothing! Good message, but I'm a plot-driven guy! If nothing's going anywhere, then I lose interest pretty easily! My attention span also gets very short! As evidenced by my bagel statement a few sentences ago! Why should you care that I ate a bagel? Does it affect you? Didn't think so! But I've gotta tell you, that bagel was awesome!
This obviously isn't my best work! But cut me some slack, I'm pulling an all-nighter! Just remember that when I'm crashed in my bed in about 12 hours, I have thoughts too, you know!
This obviously isn't my best work! But cut me some slack, I'm pulling an all-nighter! Just remember that when I'm crashed in my bed in about 12 hours, I have thoughts too, you know!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Does Anybody Know What Time It Is? Does Anybody Really Care?
Oh me oh my, look at the time. It's 2:30 in the morning on a Tuesday. Gosh, I sure hope I have nothing going on later today... oh that's right, I have class at 9:30. Silly me, always so forgetful.
Argh. For the second - no, make that third - straight night, I've kept some odd hours. Two nights ago it oddly was because I was writing an entry for this blog that I've withheld from publishing for the time being, simply because the time's not right. Last night, it was thanks to a poor drink choice after work on my part. Mountain Dew + Closing shift + Gene = a late night where I get kinda giggly. Like I said in a previous post, not really into the whole alcohol thing. People try to sell me on it, tell me, "You're not gonna have a good time unless you drink." Horsefeathers! I made it 21 years and 3 days of my life before I had an alcoholic beverage, and though it can be fun, I've also seen what it can do to people when they aren't being careful about it, both good and bad. And in some cases... oh gosh, I'm just not a big fan of booze, let's leave it at that, mmkay?
And now we get to tonight. Tonight, I went to my friend Derrick's house. We've got Mizzou and Rolla kids home for spring break this week, and tonight was the first night that we've been able to get a sizable group together to experiment with the new Pokemon games. I mean, after all folks, we are the generation that Pokemon was introduced to, and so why should I not buy the new game. Unfortunately for myself, I also have a life outside of the Pokemon world, and so I was the furthest behind of anybody at this little gathering; I haven't beaten the Elite 4, but my friends John, Derek, and Andrew have. Pretty much knew that my guys would be grossly underlevel here, but as everybody knows, you can't turn down a challenge from another trainer! Meanwhile, our host and our other friend Matt, busied themselves with NHL 11, not wanting to partake in the battling (actually, they didn't buy the game, though they seemed really interested in the battles lol).
The new infrared battling system is really fun, though. We were able to split off into teams of 2 and do double battles, so I teamed up with Andrew against Derek and John. Plus, the game makes everybody's Pokemon lv 50, so it would seem like the playing field would be level, right? WRONG. The only stats that changed are the level and HP, everything else stayed the same. Therefore, my severely underleveled team didn't stand a chance, and coupled with the fact that our opponents had unlocked the National Pokedex and had transferred over their strong Pokemon from previous versions, we got smoked. Seriously, dude, how is my lv 40 going to fairly compete with a lv 100? Not fair. We did win one battle though; we were almost down for the count (I'd lost all 3 of my team, and Andrew was down to 1, while the others had 3 total left), but one of them decided to use Explosion, just to be douchy. Unfortunately for them, just before the Explosion, Andrew's Pokemon used Double Team, and evaded the hit. Both of their active Poke's KO'd, and Andrew OHKO'd their last guy, and we won. But like I said, every other game we got smoked.
Anyway, after that, we chilled for a couple hours - tried a different take on the pokemon card game than I've ever tried before - and then I came home, and now I'm writing this for all you fine people (who probably total less than 10, but I really don't care how many people read this just because I enjoy writing it :]). And so in a few hours, I'm going to wake up and be all groggy, but you know what? It was worth it. Got to hang out with some friends who I've regrettably not been able to do much with recently (schedules, school and all), and for once get my mind off of more troubling matters. Which is good, because there are good thoughts and bad thoughts. Everybody has them, and well, despite what some of you may think, what with me preferring to take a backseat for the past month or so... I have thoughts too, you know.
Argh. For the second - no, make that third - straight night, I've kept some odd hours. Two nights ago it oddly was because I was writing an entry for this blog that I've withheld from publishing for the time being, simply because the time's not right. Last night, it was thanks to a poor drink choice after work on my part. Mountain Dew + Closing shift + Gene = a late night where I get kinda giggly. Like I said in a previous post, not really into the whole alcohol thing. People try to sell me on it, tell me, "You're not gonna have a good time unless you drink." Horsefeathers! I made it 21 years and 3 days of my life before I had an alcoholic beverage, and though it can be fun, I've also seen what it can do to people when they aren't being careful about it, both good and bad. And in some cases... oh gosh, I'm just not a big fan of booze, let's leave it at that, mmkay?
And now we get to tonight. Tonight, I went to my friend Derrick's house. We've got Mizzou and Rolla kids home for spring break this week, and tonight was the first night that we've been able to get a sizable group together to experiment with the new Pokemon games. I mean, after all folks, we are the generation that Pokemon was introduced to, and so why should I not buy the new game. Unfortunately for myself, I also have a life outside of the Pokemon world, and so I was the furthest behind of anybody at this little gathering; I haven't beaten the Elite 4, but my friends John, Derek, and Andrew have. Pretty much knew that my guys would be grossly underlevel here, but as everybody knows, you can't turn down a challenge from another trainer! Meanwhile, our host and our other friend Matt, busied themselves with NHL 11, not wanting to partake in the battling (actually, they didn't buy the game, though they seemed really interested in the battles lol).
The new infrared battling system is really fun, though. We were able to split off into teams of 2 and do double battles, so I teamed up with Andrew against Derek and John. Plus, the game makes everybody's Pokemon lv 50, so it would seem like the playing field would be level, right? WRONG. The only stats that changed are the level and HP, everything else stayed the same. Therefore, my severely underleveled team didn't stand a chance, and coupled with the fact that our opponents had unlocked the National Pokedex and had transferred over their strong Pokemon from previous versions, we got smoked. Seriously, dude, how is my lv 40 going to fairly compete with a lv 100? Not fair. We did win one battle though; we were almost down for the count (I'd lost all 3 of my team, and Andrew was down to 1, while the others had 3 total left), but one of them decided to use Explosion, just to be douchy. Unfortunately for them, just before the Explosion, Andrew's Pokemon used Double Team, and evaded the hit. Both of their active Poke's KO'd, and Andrew OHKO'd their last guy, and we won. But like I said, every other game we got smoked.
Anyway, after that, we chilled for a couple hours - tried a different take on the pokemon card game than I've ever tried before - and then I came home, and now I'm writing this for all you fine people (who probably total less than 10, but I really don't care how many people read this just because I enjoy writing it :]). And so in a few hours, I'm going to wake up and be all groggy, but you know what? It was worth it. Got to hang out with some friends who I've regrettably not been able to do much with recently (schedules, school and all), and for once get my mind off of more troubling matters. Which is good, because there are good thoughts and bad thoughts. Everybody has them, and well, despite what some of you may think, what with me preferring to take a backseat for the past month or so... I have thoughts too, you know.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
I'm Back!!!
Or am I? I'm sorta breaking my hiatus here, but it's not like anybody really reads this blog anyway... so, well I'm not sure where to take this right now. But I just felt like typing something that wasn't for a class or anything. Artistic expression may be a good word for it? Anyway, this post really isn't going to say much. And now I've already talked in a circle, so I'll close. I have thoughts too, you know :)
Sunday, February 27, 2011
And Now for a Special Announcement
Due to unforseen circumstances that have arisen over the past couple days, this will be the last post I will make on this blog. I will be making a new blog under a yet-to-be-determined address, but I feel that this particular blog, and the accompanying title, have lost something and it's time for a fresh start. So, until then, goodbye.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
When All Else Fails...
...post song lyrics. Here's coming at you from the Beatles. Credit to Lennon-McCartney, please don't sue me Apple Corps.
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields Forever
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields Forever
No one, I think, is in my tree
I mean it must be high or low
That is, you can't, you know tune in, but it's alright
That is, I think it's not too bad
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields Forever
Always, ah no sometimes, think it's me
But you know I know when it's a dream
I think a "no" may mean a "yes" but it's all wrong
That is, I think I disagree
Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields Forever
Strawberry Fields Forever
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Let's Take This One From the Top
Okay. I've hinted at in in previous posts, and even flat out said it earlier, but for the past year or so, I've been a closeted Gleek. My friend RJ turned me on to it in November of 2009. I caught two or three episodes and loved it, but then they went on hiatus. Fun shtuff. My schedule didn't really allow for me to watch Glee when it came back on the air, and when the second season started, I had just started work at Target and I usually worked Tuesday nights. Now I don't work Tuesday nights, but I have class. So I still can't watch it at first airing :(
There's really no reason for me to like it. I mean, I can relate to the kids in the show because in high school I was in a group that was low on the totem pole, and I like music, but other than that, there's really no rational reason for me to watch it. But I do. It's one of those things that can't be explained, you know?
But Jenny kinda turned me back onto it last year, especially when she told me aired episodes were on Hulu. Why I hadn't thought of that, I don't know, but I can be a dumdum sometimes, so yeah. And I tried watching a little bit. But I had missed so much I was rather lost.
So what did I do last weekend? Went out and bought the entire first season. And since I've had quite a bit of time on my hands, I've been up to my elbows in Glee for the past week. Already got to where I was when I wasn't able to watch anymore, so from here on out it's uncharted territory. And now I find out that the first part of season 2 is out on dvd too, which I'm still up in the air about bc I kinda want to buy the season as a whole, but that'll be a while. Oh well, I'll figure something out :)
But the lovely thing is, my siblings don't quite get my obsession with it, and they're chastizing me like crazy about it. It's really not fair, they aren't giving it much of a chance. And then I come home from my little excursion to the restaurant on Tuesday at about 7:40, and I find my sister quickly changing channels from Fox to an infomercial. And I made her change it back, and I watched. Don't know if she was watching or what. I think she'd like it, since she's into performing and such, but I'm not going to force it on her. My brother still wants no part of it.
So, that's all I have to say. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I can hear my brother sneaking up behind me with a slushie, surely aimed at my face. So until next time, please remember that I have thoughts too, you know.
Oh yuck, it's cherry.
There's really no reason for me to like it. I mean, I can relate to the kids in the show because in high school I was in a group that was low on the totem pole, and I like music, but other than that, there's really no rational reason for me to watch it. But I do. It's one of those things that can't be explained, you know?
But Jenny kinda turned me back onto it last year, especially when she told me aired episodes were on Hulu. Why I hadn't thought of that, I don't know, but I can be a dumdum sometimes, so yeah. And I tried watching a little bit. But I had missed so much I was rather lost.
So what did I do last weekend? Went out and bought the entire first season. And since I've had quite a bit of time on my hands, I've been up to my elbows in Glee for the past week. Already got to where I was when I wasn't able to watch anymore, so from here on out it's uncharted territory. And now I find out that the first part of season 2 is out on dvd too, which I'm still up in the air about bc I kinda want to buy the season as a whole, but that'll be a while. Oh well, I'll figure something out :)
But the lovely thing is, my siblings don't quite get my obsession with it, and they're chastizing me like crazy about it. It's really not fair, they aren't giving it much of a chance. And then I come home from my little excursion to the restaurant on Tuesday at about 7:40, and I find my sister quickly changing channels from Fox to an infomercial. And I made her change it back, and I watched. Don't know if she was watching or what. I think she'd like it, since she's into performing and such, but I'm not going to force it on her. My brother still wants no part of it.
So, that's all I have to say. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I can hear my brother sneaking up behind me with a slushie, surely aimed at my face. So until next time, please remember that I have thoughts too, you know.
Oh yuck, it's cherry.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The Calm Before (and After) the Storm
Sheesh. Yesterday was rather taxing. It started out okay, what with classes and all. Lined up like ducks in a row: Accounting, Literature, History. And that's where this story takes off. That's the calm before the storm, because from here my actions set off other things that spiraled out of control.
I was waiting in line to speak to my history professor at the end of class. Needed to give him a paper topic, since we have a paper due in that class before spring break. As I was in line, I noticed a friend of mine stick his head in the door, scan the room, and then leave. Thought that was kind of odd, but I stayed in line and gave my professor my topic. Didn't see him outside the room, so I started walking towards the main building. I soon realized that I was walking right behind him and went to catch up with him when I saw he was on the phone. Then my phone began to ring, and I started laughing to myself. I picked up and he was like, "Hey Gene!" and I said, "Dude, I'm right behind you." Funny awkward moments provided to you by me, your narrator.
This guy didn't mind though. His name's Josh and he's rather laid back. He's a bit older than I am, and he's a philosophy major. Really good listener, this guy, and because he's into philosophy, he usually has an interesting view on things. We decided we should go get lunch together, so he drove us to Jimmy Johns across the street from SWIC. And we just talked for a while, two friends catching up and the like. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Anyway, I had texted my mom asking if I needed to pick anybody up that day. She said no, so I took that as her saying, "No need to hurry, have fun." So we hung out for about 2 hours, and he took me back to my car at about 3:45, and I got home around 4.
When I got in the door, my mom was on the phone with somebody, and my brother was headed out the door to go get his haircut. When she got off the phone, Mom got mad at me because she needed to go get my dad and was running late. Wish she would've told me that before, but I apologized and she left. My sister then called, asking for Mom, telling me that drama tryouts were going to end early and that she could be picked up before 5. I told her how to contact Mom and then texted Mom myself, telling her that my sister would need to be picked up early. Meanwhile, I had a killer headache, so I went upstairs to go take a nap.
At about 5:10 or so, I woke up from my nap to the sound of two people shouting and dishes being slammed into the dishwasher and onto the counter. My room's upstairs, so I have no idea if any dishes were thrown or anything, but it sounded like quite a mess. It was my dad and my brother, fighting over pretty much everything. I guess they were trying to do the dishes while fighting, with very little success. No idea how it started because I was asleep, but the part I caught was that my brother was accusing my dad of being lazy and a slob and expecting the rest of us to do all the work around the house while he just sat around and watched tv all night. He said some other things too, but that was pretty much the main gyst. Dad, meanwhile, was livid. I guess he was pissed about Mom being late to get him because of my lunch thing earlier, and when my brother lit into him for God knows what, he pretty much exploded. Went off on how the three of us kids are ungrateful for everything he does for the family, and how he spends ten hours at the office every day, and how we just sit around and do nothing, and that's why nothing ever gets done around the house, and why we haven't been able to move on from that tornado, and how he was going to just bulldoze everything in the house and then what would we have to complain about. It was fun stuff.
This entire time, I'm hysterical. I'm hiding up in my room, afraid to come out because I've never heard them fight this badly before. I was pretty much a coward, paralyzed by fear and not knowing what to do. I had no idea where my sister was, and Mom was downstairs trying to calm them down, but good luck doing that. A quick temper is one of those things that gets passed down in my dad's family, and it's near impossible to stop once it starts. My dad has it, his dad has it, my brother has it. Even I have it, but not nearly to the degree that they do. 999 times out of 1000 I just get moody and pouty. I try not to let it out, and for the most part I'm successful at that. But I was probably as scared as I've ever been in my life. Another one of those hereditary things is high blood pressure, which I'm sure I'm going to have to deal with at some point, and coupled with my dad's diabetes, I was seriously scared he was going to keel over.
So, in my panic, I sent out an SOS to my friend Kenzie. God bless her. She told me to hang tight while she told Jenny I needed to talk to her, and Jenny helped me figure out what to do. I finally broke out and drove to Burger King and just hunkered down for about an hour. Got back, and Mom and Dad were gone, out to do God knows what in order to help him calm down. My sister seemed okay, but I didn't really say much to her, and my brother was in the basement in his room. At that point, I just went up to my room, where I stayed the rest of the night. Nothing else really happened. Mom and Dad got home and everybody just went to their rooms, not really doing much. I couldn't really sleep, so I spent the next couple hours texting friends. It was pretty trying, but I had no idea what else to do. Finally got to sleep around 11, and even that was sporadic, but I think I'm okay.
How long am I going to be able to keep up with this? I've backed myself into a corner. There isn't a place where I can just relax and be myself, other than maybe my room, and even that's dodgy at times. Tension is everywhere. I'm trying to hold up, but my back is just about broken. Oh, even better, literally, as I'm typing this, Mom's mad at me because she just asked me for the change from my brother's haircut that he apparently gave me yesterday. Yeah, he gave it to me, and told me to buy myself some food with it. Thought it was a nice gesture, so I did. Now I've got to pay the balance. Just great. Screwed over by what I thought was a nice gesture. Little jerk. Gah, I can't type anymore right now. But a thank you again to Josh, Kenzie, Jenny, and RJ for your help yesterday. I have to go. I just wish people would realize that I have thoughts too, you know.
I was waiting in line to speak to my history professor at the end of class. Needed to give him a paper topic, since we have a paper due in that class before spring break. As I was in line, I noticed a friend of mine stick his head in the door, scan the room, and then leave. Thought that was kind of odd, but I stayed in line and gave my professor my topic. Didn't see him outside the room, so I started walking towards the main building. I soon realized that I was walking right behind him and went to catch up with him when I saw he was on the phone. Then my phone began to ring, and I started laughing to myself. I picked up and he was like, "Hey Gene!" and I said, "Dude, I'm right behind you." Funny awkward moments provided to you by me, your narrator.
This guy didn't mind though. His name's Josh and he's rather laid back. He's a bit older than I am, and he's a philosophy major. Really good listener, this guy, and because he's into philosophy, he usually has an interesting view on things. We decided we should go get lunch together, so he drove us to Jimmy Johns across the street from SWIC. And we just talked for a while, two friends catching up and the like. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Anyway, I had texted my mom asking if I needed to pick anybody up that day. She said no, so I took that as her saying, "No need to hurry, have fun." So we hung out for about 2 hours, and he took me back to my car at about 3:45, and I got home around 4.
When I got in the door, my mom was on the phone with somebody, and my brother was headed out the door to go get his haircut. When she got off the phone, Mom got mad at me because she needed to go get my dad and was running late. Wish she would've told me that before, but I apologized and she left. My sister then called, asking for Mom, telling me that drama tryouts were going to end early and that she could be picked up before 5. I told her how to contact Mom and then texted Mom myself, telling her that my sister would need to be picked up early. Meanwhile, I had a killer headache, so I went upstairs to go take a nap.
At about 5:10 or so, I woke up from my nap to the sound of two people shouting and dishes being slammed into the dishwasher and onto the counter. My room's upstairs, so I have no idea if any dishes were thrown or anything, but it sounded like quite a mess. It was my dad and my brother, fighting over pretty much everything. I guess they were trying to do the dishes while fighting, with very little success. No idea how it started because I was asleep, but the part I caught was that my brother was accusing my dad of being lazy and a slob and expecting the rest of us to do all the work around the house while he just sat around and watched tv all night. He said some other things too, but that was pretty much the main gyst. Dad, meanwhile, was livid. I guess he was pissed about Mom being late to get him because of my lunch thing earlier, and when my brother lit into him for God knows what, he pretty much exploded. Went off on how the three of us kids are ungrateful for everything he does for the family, and how he spends ten hours at the office every day, and how we just sit around and do nothing, and that's why nothing ever gets done around the house, and why we haven't been able to move on from that tornado, and how he was going to just bulldoze everything in the house and then what would we have to complain about. It was fun stuff.
This entire time, I'm hysterical. I'm hiding up in my room, afraid to come out because I've never heard them fight this badly before. I was pretty much a coward, paralyzed by fear and not knowing what to do. I had no idea where my sister was, and Mom was downstairs trying to calm them down, but good luck doing that. A quick temper is one of those things that gets passed down in my dad's family, and it's near impossible to stop once it starts. My dad has it, his dad has it, my brother has it. Even I have it, but not nearly to the degree that they do. 999 times out of 1000 I just get moody and pouty. I try not to let it out, and for the most part I'm successful at that. But I was probably as scared as I've ever been in my life. Another one of those hereditary things is high blood pressure, which I'm sure I'm going to have to deal with at some point, and coupled with my dad's diabetes, I was seriously scared he was going to keel over.
So, in my panic, I sent out an SOS to my friend Kenzie. God bless her. She told me to hang tight while she told Jenny I needed to talk to her, and Jenny helped me figure out what to do. I finally broke out and drove to Burger King and just hunkered down for about an hour. Got back, and Mom and Dad were gone, out to do God knows what in order to help him calm down. My sister seemed okay, but I didn't really say much to her, and my brother was in the basement in his room. At that point, I just went up to my room, where I stayed the rest of the night. Nothing else really happened. Mom and Dad got home and everybody just went to their rooms, not really doing much. I couldn't really sleep, so I spent the next couple hours texting friends. It was pretty trying, but I had no idea what else to do. Finally got to sleep around 11, and even that was sporadic, but I think I'm okay.
How long am I going to be able to keep up with this? I've backed myself into a corner. There isn't a place where I can just relax and be myself, other than maybe my room, and even that's dodgy at times. Tension is everywhere. I'm trying to hold up, but my back is just about broken. Oh, even better, literally, as I'm typing this, Mom's mad at me because she just asked me for the change from my brother's haircut that he apparently gave me yesterday. Yeah, he gave it to me, and told me to buy myself some food with it. Thought it was a nice gesture, so I did. Now I've got to pay the balance. Just great. Screwed over by what I thought was a nice gesture. Little jerk. Gah, I can't type anymore right now. But a thank you again to Josh, Kenzie, Jenny, and RJ for your help yesterday. I have to go. I just wish people would realize that I have thoughts too, you know.
Monday, February 7, 2011
A Random Thought for You to Enjoy - The Adventures of Felix W. Mumford
I am bored, and I didn't really do all that much today that's worth putting in a blog, so I'm going to free write a story and post that. I hope you enjoy!
Far away, on the steep rocky cliffs of Whotheheckcares, there sat an old rickety hut, worn by the elements that had crashed against it throughout the years. There was only one occupant of that weatherbeaten shack, one Felix W. Mumford. Mr. Mumford was a retired attorney at law; he had practiced for a good many years, let's say about 40 or so, so that you have a number in your head. But he wasn't a very good lawyer, as the fact that he lived in such a worn-down hut might suggest. In fact, he was known throughout Whotheheckcares as the worst lawyer for miles around. One time, he was in charge of defending a man accused of stealing his neighbor's horse. Mr. Mumford's client had documentation that he was not home on the day the crime occurred, that in fact he was out of town on business for ten days prior to the crime and ten days after. Still, the man was somehow found guilty, thanks to Mr. Mumford's unabashed histronics while examining the man; Mumford essentially badgered the man into admitting the crime by reminding him of an unfortunate incident from his childhood in which the man was dragged through town by a runaway stagecoach, only to result in a horrific crash in which the mayor's wife's cousin's dog's breeder's sister was killed. A mail sack fell on her head and squished it. When Mr. Mumford reminded the man of this unfortunate accident, he admitted stealing the horse, even though (as was stated before) it would have been impossible for him to have stolen the horse. What's more, to add insult to injury, the jury was so irate to learn of the man's involvement in the unfortunate death of that woman all those years ago, they sentenced him to death, and the judge threw him into the ocean to sleep with the fishes. Mr. Mumford was quite proud of himself for the services he provided to Whotheheckcares, because he in fact didn't care much for the man he had essentially just goaded to death. People began to talk, however, and Mr. Mumford soon chose to retire, on account of the fact that nobody would ask him to represent them in court.
Mr. Mumford had been married once before, to a beautiful girl named Florida. They had three beautiful children: Francis, Frances, and Frauncies. But people soon began to make fun of the family, what with Mr. Mumford being a terrible lawyer (and this was years before the aforementioned case), Florida being the name of a state and not of a person, and the three little Mumfords all having near-identical names. It soon became too much for Florida, and so she left Mr. Mumford, taking Francis, Frances, and Frauncies with her. She never attempted to contact him again, as she took a job with the Boeing Corporation, developing a jet engine, and was set for life.
So Mr. Mumford grew old all by himself in that house on the cliffs. And he was quite upset with his life, because nobody seemed to appreciate him at all. But one day an inspiration hit him. He would build himself a boat, and sail away from Whotheheckcares, away from the people who hated him and Florida who had shunned him, and to a new place where a man of his talents and genius would be appreciated. There was a forest not far from Mr. Mumford's house, and so he set about building a sailboat. It took him three months, but he finally did it. And what a beautiful craft she was. He named her New Florida, because he intended to spend time with her and be happy with her, as Florida had been there for him all those years ago.
Finally, Mr. Mumford decided it was time for him to go. He packed all his possessions into his boat and bid farewell to that dismal house he had lived in for all those years. Then he got into the boat and pushed off towards the ocean.
But Mr. Mumford forgot that he lived on a cliff, and that he had built his boat on the cliff, and so when he pushed New Florida off towards the ocean, he pushed her off the cliffs and onto the rocks below. There was a horrendous crash.
I regret to inform you that Felix W. Mumford, retired attorney at law, died in a boating accident, after his boat fell 200 feet from the cliffs of Whotheheckcares onto the rocks below. But there is a moral to be found in his story. If you're ever building a boat, make sure you build it in a place you can safely launch it from.
Well, that was my story. I admit, it's rather bad and rather random, but I was just freewriting, and I do have class in the morning, so I wasn't expecting to write the next Oliver Twist or anything. You might be thinking I'm disturbed and morbid, and this story probably makes me look disturbed and morbid. But please remember, I have thoughts too, you know.
Far away, on the steep rocky cliffs of Whotheheckcares, there sat an old rickety hut, worn by the elements that had crashed against it throughout the years. There was only one occupant of that weatherbeaten shack, one Felix W. Mumford. Mr. Mumford was a retired attorney at law; he had practiced for a good many years, let's say about 40 or so, so that you have a number in your head. But he wasn't a very good lawyer, as the fact that he lived in such a worn-down hut might suggest. In fact, he was known throughout Whotheheckcares as the worst lawyer for miles around. One time, he was in charge of defending a man accused of stealing his neighbor's horse. Mr. Mumford's client had documentation that he was not home on the day the crime occurred, that in fact he was out of town on business for ten days prior to the crime and ten days after. Still, the man was somehow found guilty, thanks to Mr. Mumford's unabashed histronics while examining the man; Mumford essentially badgered the man into admitting the crime by reminding him of an unfortunate incident from his childhood in which the man was dragged through town by a runaway stagecoach, only to result in a horrific crash in which the mayor's wife's cousin's dog's breeder's sister was killed. A mail sack fell on her head and squished it. When Mr. Mumford reminded the man of this unfortunate accident, he admitted stealing the horse, even though (as was stated before) it would have been impossible for him to have stolen the horse. What's more, to add insult to injury, the jury was so irate to learn of the man's involvement in the unfortunate death of that woman all those years ago, they sentenced him to death, and the judge threw him into the ocean to sleep with the fishes. Mr. Mumford was quite proud of himself for the services he provided to Whotheheckcares, because he in fact didn't care much for the man he had essentially just goaded to death. People began to talk, however, and Mr. Mumford soon chose to retire, on account of the fact that nobody would ask him to represent them in court.
Mr. Mumford had been married once before, to a beautiful girl named Florida. They had three beautiful children: Francis, Frances, and Frauncies. But people soon began to make fun of the family, what with Mr. Mumford being a terrible lawyer (and this was years before the aforementioned case), Florida being the name of a state and not of a person, and the three little Mumfords all having near-identical names. It soon became too much for Florida, and so she left Mr. Mumford, taking Francis, Frances, and Frauncies with her. She never attempted to contact him again, as she took a job with the Boeing Corporation, developing a jet engine, and was set for life.
So Mr. Mumford grew old all by himself in that house on the cliffs. And he was quite upset with his life, because nobody seemed to appreciate him at all. But one day an inspiration hit him. He would build himself a boat, and sail away from Whotheheckcares, away from the people who hated him and Florida who had shunned him, and to a new place where a man of his talents and genius would be appreciated. There was a forest not far from Mr. Mumford's house, and so he set about building a sailboat. It took him three months, but he finally did it. And what a beautiful craft she was. He named her New Florida, because he intended to spend time with her and be happy with her, as Florida had been there for him all those years ago.
Finally, Mr. Mumford decided it was time for him to go. He packed all his possessions into his boat and bid farewell to that dismal house he had lived in for all those years. Then he got into the boat and pushed off towards the ocean.
But Mr. Mumford forgot that he lived on a cliff, and that he had built his boat on the cliff, and so when he pushed New Florida off towards the ocean, he pushed her off the cliffs and onto the rocks below. There was a horrendous crash.
I regret to inform you that Felix W. Mumford, retired attorney at law, died in a boating accident, after his boat fell 200 feet from the cliffs of Whotheheckcares onto the rocks below. But there is a moral to be found in his story. If you're ever building a boat, make sure you build it in a place you can safely launch it from.
Well, that was my story. I admit, it's rather bad and rather random, but I was just freewriting, and I do have class in the morning, so I wasn't expecting to write the next Oliver Twist or anything. You might be thinking I'm disturbed and morbid, and this story probably makes me look disturbed and morbid. But please remember, I have thoughts too, you know.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Malls and I Don't Get Along Too Well
Day 1 of fallout from Saturday was an interesting one. For starters, I woke up with this huge headache and sinus pain, which I thought I had mostly gotten over, and I just kinda lay in bed for three hours. Alternated with my eyes being open and shut. And I wasn't really sleeping either. I was in that semi-conscious state where I knew I was in bed, but my mind was processing thoughts like I was dreaming, but I wasn't really dreaming, you know? It was kinda like I was lying there watching a movie in my head, but I was in the movie? I don't really know... I mean, I was sick on Saturday, so that might've contributed to it a little bit, but still, it was an interesting thing. Really, you had to have been there, because my explaining doesn't do it justice.
Finally decided to end that by sitting up, and then I grabbed my guitar and fooled around for about half an hour. I wouldn't say I'm proficient at guitar. I can't fingerpick at all. I do know chords and how to strum though. Mostly Beatles songs, since they're my favorite band, but I do know some other things too. Think I ran through about 7 songs. Played them from memory too, which surprises me because I suck at memorizing things on piano, but it's whatever.
Then I realized that I had planned to go to the mall to buy a Steelers hat, since I was rooting for them in the Super Bowl and I didn't have any Steelers clothes or anything. Plus, I got a $50 gift card to Lids for Christmas, so I thought I'd use that. But my mom told me that my brother had the truck and was already at the mall, and the rest of them were planning on going to the mall, so I should go with them if I wanted to go. So I agreed and got ready. Put my contacts in for the first time in forever. I should really wear those more often... but I digress.
Now, I should mention at this point that I'm not really a mall guy. I mean, sure, there's some nice deals and all, but fashion's not high on my priority list. I like plain clothes, nothing too flashy, and I work at Target so I do most of my shopping there. But I knew Target didn't have Steelers stuff since they only carry stuff for the local teams, and I figured Lids probably would, so I figured, "Why not?" Maybe I could find something else I like while I'm there, or whatever.
So I get in the car and go to the mall. My sister just turned 13 and she's been a bit moody lately, but she was glad today because my parents were buying her some new Converse tennis shoes as a late present. She was talking at a mile a minute about these shoes in the car, and I just couldn't wait to get out so I wouldn't have to hear her go on and on about them. We finally get there, and my parents and sister decide to look in Sears for the shoes first while I go to look for my hat. Why they looked in Sears, I don't know. I mean, Sears is a great place to shop if you're looking for something that's not in a size 1, 3, or 5, or a washing machine, but tennis shoes?
So I get to Lids, and they don't have a Steelers hat on display. I looked for about 5 minutes. There were 3 guys working there, and the entire time I'm in the store, instead of coming to ask if I need help, they're standing at the counter laughing their asses off because one of them did something completely stupid, and he and the other two were laughing at how stupid he was. I walked around the entire bloody store three times, scanning the walls and the racks looking for a stupid Steelers hat, and they didn't even try to help me. Jackasses. So I leave, and I go back to Sears, and my family's not there, and they aren't answering their phones, so I walked around the mall looking for them. After I circled the entire second floor, I remembered why I don't really like going to the mall. It just reminds me of how shallow and superficial people are coming. Loud groups of people blocking the entire walkway, not giving a crap that they're in your way; the music coming from two stores next to each other sounds exactly the same, equally annoying; and the employees of many of the businesses look like they just rolled out of bed, and they treat you like shit because they don't care, they're just there to get paid, to hell with doing any work. It's awesome. I finally got a text from my dad saying where they were, and I just kinda sat on a bench outside the store, not wanting to be there, until they finished paying and we went home.
Or at least, we went to Wal-Mart to get hot dogs for the Super Bowl. Or at least, we tried to get hot dogs, but Wal-Mart was out for some reason or another, so Dad drove us to KFC instead. I usually don't have a problem with KFC, but sometimes I don't want to feel like I'm actually shoving lard into my bloodstream. Luckily though, Dad was nice enough to get some grilled chicken, so I was okay with that. And they gave us an entire bucket full of biscuits for some reason. Really? I like biscuits, but seriously, we now have a ziplock bag with about 20 leftover biscuits on our table. Amazing.
We got home just before kickoff. Didn't have much to root for in the first half. The Packers owned Pittsburgh in the first quarter, and the Steelers didn't do as much as they could have in the second. Then halftime rolled around, and I left. Didn't want to see the Black Eyed Peas. They're okay, but I just didn't really want to see them perform. Maybe it's just a bit of burnout on my part, but I hear their music way too much on the radio, and... yeah.
So I went to Target. It was pretty dead in there, what with everybody at home watching the game. Chewed the fat with my friend Lewis for a while. He's the guy I mentioned I've been talking about getting an apartment with. We talked about things that I'm not going to post here for the moment, but it was a good chat, all in all. Quite... educational. Plus, I played the demo for MLB The Show 2010, a game that's been out for almost a year! Then I wandered around for another five minutes or so before going home.
The rest of the game was okay. I'm not really all that upset that Green Bay won, even though I was rooting against them. I have nothing against the Packers, and they played a great game. Now, if the Patriots were playing and they had won, I would be furious. Not a New England fan. I'm a Rams fan, so I'm sworn to hate the Pats. Fricking cheaters. But that's another story entirely.
Then I decided to watch the episode of Glee that came on after the Super Bowl. Glee is a guilty pleasure of mine. I like music, and I can relate to the characters because in high school I was in a club that was rather low in the hierarchical structure in place in most high schools. I didn't suffer the abuse the kids in the show go through, but I knew I was low on the totem pole. Anyway, my brother and sister chastized the crap out of me for watching tonight, but hey, I haven't been able to watch in a while, and I've got class when it's normally on, so I just told them to screw off. They also were... less than enthusiastic when I told them I bought the first season on DVD. But you know what, it's my money, and I chose to spend it on that. Plus, I couldn't find Friday Night Lights, recommended to me by my friend RJ, who deserves a shout out. FNL is a good show though, from the episodes that I've seen.
And now, to finish my summary of Day 1/(now) Day 2 of the aftermath, it hasn't been terrible. My friend and I haven't talked since I said what I said, but I expected that. I'll just have to play things by ear one day at a time. I'm sorry for what I did, but I'm not sorry that I did it. Just please remember that I'm hurting too, because I have thoughts too you know.
Finally decided to end that by sitting up, and then I grabbed my guitar and fooled around for about half an hour. I wouldn't say I'm proficient at guitar. I can't fingerpick at all. I do know chords and how to strum though. Mostly Beatles songs, since they're my favorite band, but I do know some other things too. Think I ran through about 7 songs. Played them from memory too, which surprises me because I suck at memorizing things on piano, but it's whatever.
Then I realized that I had planned to go to the mall to buy a Steelers hat, since I was rooting for them in the Super Bowl and I didn't have any Steelers clothes or anything. Plus, I got a $50 gift card to Lids for Christmas, so I thought I'd use that. But my mom told me that my brother had the truck and was already at the mall, and the rest of them were planning on going to the mall, so I should go with them if I wanted to go. So I agreed and got ready. Put my contacts in for the first time in forever. I should really wear those more often... but I digress.
Now, I should mention at this point that I'm not really a mall guy. I mean, sure, there's some nice deals and all, but fashion's not high on my priority list. I like plain clothes, nothing too flashy, and I work at Target so I do most of my shopping there. But I knew Target didn't have Steelers stuff since they only carry stuff for the local teams, and I figured Lids probably would, so I figured, "Why not?" Maybe I could find something else I like while I'm there, or whatever.
So I get in the car and go to the mall. My sister just turned 13 and she's been a bit moody lately, but she was glad today because my parents were buying her some new Converse tennis shoes as a late present. She was talking at a mile a minute about these shoes in the car, and I just couldn't wait to get out so I wouldn't have to hear her go on and on about them. We finally get there, and my parents and sister decide to look in Sears for the shoes first while I go to look for my hat. Why they looked in Sears, I don't know. I mean, Sears is a great place to shop if you're looking for something that's not in a size 1, 3, or 5, or a washing machine, but tennis shoes?
So I get to Lids, and they don't have a Steelers hat on display. I looked for about 5 minutes. There were 3 guys working there, and the entire time I'm in the store, instead of coming to ask if I need help, they're standing at the counter laughing their asses off because one of them did something completely stupid, and he and the other two were laughing at how stupid he was. I walked around the entire bloody store three times, scanning the walls and the racks looking for a stupid Steelers hat, and they didn't even try to help me. Jackasses. So I leave, and I go back to Sears, and my family's not there, and they aren't answering their phones, so I walked around the mall looking for them. After I circled the entire second floor, I remembered why I don't really like going to the mall. It just reminds me of how shallow and superficial people are coming. Loud groups of people blocking the entire walkway, not giving a crap that they're in your way; the music coming from two stores next to each other sounds exactly the same, equally annoying; and the employees of many of the businesses look like they just rolled out of bed, and they treat you like shit because they don't care, they're just there to get paid, to hell with doing any work. It's awesome. I finally got a text from my dad saying where they were, and I just kinda sat on a bench outside the store, not wanting to be there, until they finished paying and we went home.
Or at least, we went to Wal-Mart to get hot dogs for the Super Bowl. Or at least, we tried to get hot dogs, but Wal-Mart was out for some reason or another, so Dad drove us to KFC instead. I usually don't have a problem with KFC, but sometimes I don't want to feel like I'm actually shoving lard into my bloodstream. Luckily though, Dad was nice enough to get some grilled chicken, so I was okay with that. And they gave us an entire bucket full of biscuits for some reason. Really? I like biscuits, but seriously, we now have a ziplock bag with about 20 leftover biscuits on our table. Amazing.
We got home just before kickoff. Didn't have much to root for in the first half. The Packers owned Pittsburgh in the first quarter, and the Steelers didn't do as much as they could have in the second. Then halftime rolled around, and I left. Didn't want to see the Black Eyed Peas. They're okay, but I just didn't really want to see them perform. Maybe it's just a bit of burnout on my part, but I hear their music way too much on the radio, and... yeah.
So I went to Target. It was pretty dead in there, what with everybody at home watching the game. Chewed the fat with my friend Lewis for a while. He's the guy I mentioned I've been talking about getting an apartment with. We talked about things that I'm not going to post here for the moment, but it was a good chat, all in all. Quite... educational. Plus, I played the demo for MLB The Show 2010, a game that's been out for almost a year! Then I wandered around for another five minutes or so before going home.
The rest of the game was okay. I'm not really all that upset that Green Bay won, even though I was rooting against them. I have nothing against the Packers, and they played a great game. Now, if the Patriots were playing and they had won, I would be furious. Not a New England fan. I'm a Rams fan, so I'm sworn to hate the Pats. Fricking cheaters. But that's another story entirely.
Then I decided to watch the episode of Glee that came on after the Super Bowl. Glee is a guilty pleasure of mine. I like music, and I can relate to the characters because in high school I was in a club that was rather low in the hierarchical structure in place in most high schools. I didn't suffer the abuse the kids in the show go through, but I knew I was low on the totem pole. Anyway, my brother and sister chastized the crap out of me for watching tonight, but hey, I haven't been able to watch in a while, and I've got class when it's normally on, so I just told them to screw off. They also were... less than enthusiastic when I told them I bought the first season on DVD. But you know what, it's my money, and I chose to spend it on that. Plus, I couldn't find Friday Night Lights, recommended to me by my friend RJ, who deserves a shout out. FNL is a good show though, from the episodes that I've seen.
And now, to finish my summary of Day 1/(now) Day 2 of the aftermath, it hasn't been terrible. My friend and I haven't talked since I said what I said, but I expected that. I'll just have to play things by ear one day at a time. I'm sorry for what I did, but I'm not sorry that I did it. Just please remember that I'm hurting too, because I have thoughts too you know.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
How Much is Too Much, How Far is Too Far?
Let the record show that I am of sound mind and body, and that I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help me God.
No, this isn't a will. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, though that's not really my decision. And I don't plan on appearing in court, unless there's some reason for me to be there. That doesn't give any of you license to file some frivolous suit against me to get me into court, though. Time is somewhat important to me, though it doesn't always show. I just want you, the readers, to know that I'm not going to pull any punches in this post; in short, the bullshit meter is on empty, and I'm speaking from the heart.
One thing that might not be apparent all the time is the love I have for the people in my life. My actions over the past month or so have made me look like an opinionated, obnoxious asshole who lacks the tact to know when he needs to keep his mouth shut. I'm not usually the type of person to express how I'm feeling, especially if I'm upset, simply because I don't want people to worry about me. I mean, I believe there are times where I need to wear my heart on my sleeve, and when those times come I wear my heart on my sleeve without batting an eye. But 99% of the time I try to be the guy who sneaks into the picture, completes whatever he needs to do, and slinks back out, trying to avoid the limelight. I try to avoid drama, and actually invite people to tell me their problems, while I just sit there and listen, a neutral third party. This lack of expression, which I try to mask with either extreme giddiness or general indifference, sometimes leads me to internalize my feelings, good and bad, about myself and about others. Once in a while, I pull the stopper out with the intention of letting my feelings drip out, and usually that works, but every once in a while, what I'm thinking and feeling comes out in a torrent of emotions, both good and bad, and I have to struggle for a bit to bottle them up again. This would be one of those times.
My family and my friends are my life. Every night before I go to bed, I thank God for blessing me with such good people in my life. Sure, we all have our faults, but I cannot imagine myself living a happy life without these people. My family... well we tend to grate on each others' nerves sometimes like all families do, but at the end of the day we know we all love each other. The same with my friends. I have no two friends who are exactly alike (though some of them insist that they're twins separated at birth - maybe a later post can be devoted to that particular bromance), and that's a good thing. With every one of my friends, I have different memories, different viewpoints, and different things that make us say, "This is why we're friends."
I know I don't show it often, but I do care very deeply about my friends and their well-being. I could not bear to see any one of them get hurt, especially if I knew there was something I could do to spare them pain. If there was a chance for me to prevent a friend from getting hurt, and I let it happen anyway... I don't see any difference between that situation and a situation where I hurt that friend myself.
Don't get me wrong here, I believe my friends are perfectly capable of making their own decisions, and either reaping the benefits or suffering the consequences of that decision. It is not my job, nor is it my business, to tell anybody what to do. I might tell my friend, "Hey, you're being stupid about ____," or, "Maybe you should think about what you're doing about _____," but I recognize that we're all human beings, capable of choosing what we will and will not do. Above all, I want my friends to be happy. If my friend is happy, I am happy. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
But that doesn't mean I don't worry. Worrying is something I do a lot; in fact I do it too much for my own good. My imagination sometimes runs wild with outrageous scenarios that might happen from the most miniscule things. I can do some very irrational things if I don't keep myself in check. But what I did today... I deemed it rational, and though it's caused quite a bit of grief for me and quite possibly for others as well, I still believe it was justified, though I know I could have handled things much differently.
You see, this is rarely a cut-and-dry issue. What if one friend's pleasure is another friend's pain? What should you do then? What do you do when you see that someone is doing something that bothers another person, a close friend of the happy one? What about if the person who is happy is hiding particular aspects of the thing that makes him/her happy from loved ones because he/she knows they might be uncomfortable knowing those aspects? What do you do if you know your friend could be handling the situation differently, and that his/her current course of action could lead to him/her getting hurt? What if your friend appears blind to how his/her actions are affecting those around him/her? What do you do if you know you aren't the only one worried about the situation, and that somebody should say something, but nobody knows when or how to address that person? What do you do when an opportunity to say something presents itself - do you take that opportunity, knowing that a better opportunity may come at some point in the future, or do you say nothing, knowing that by saying nothing, the situation could become even more complicated?
I care very much about a friend involved in a difficult situation, so I chose to say something today. It didn't go well, and that person is upset, and I don't expect us to hang out or talk much for the foreseeable future. I know I could have handled things differently. Maybe I should have gone to other friends with similar concerns to see if we should talk to the person as a group. But the fact of the matter is I didn't do that, and now I'm hurting inside. I don't want to see this person get hurt, and I pray that won't be the case. But what have I done? Have I overstepped my bounds? Why did I overreach? It's very difficult, and now it's out of my hands. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
No, this isn't a will. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, though that's not really my decision. And I don't plan on appearing in court, unless there's some reason for me to be there. That doesn't give any of you license to file some frivolous suit against me to get me into court, though. Time is somewhat important to me, though it doesn't always show. I just want you, the readers, to know that I'm not going to pull any punches in this post; in short, the bullshit meter is on empty, and I'm speaking from the heart.
One thing that might not be apparent all the time is the love I have for the people in my life. My actions over the past month or so have made me look like an opinionated, obnoxious asshole who lacks the tact to know when he needs to keep his mouth shut. I'm not usually the type of person to express how I'm feeling, especially if I'm upset, simply because I don't want people to worry about me. I mean, I believe there are times where I need to wear my heart on my sleeve, and when those times come I wear my heart on my sleeve without batting an eye. But 99% of the time I try to be the guy who sneaks into the picture, completes whatever he needs to do, and slinks back out, trying to avoid the limelight. I try to avoid drama, and actually invite people to tell me their problems, while I just sit there and listen, a neutral third party. This lack of expression, which I try to mask with either extreme giddiness or general indifference, sometimes leads me to internalize my feelings, good and bad, about myself and about others. Once in a while, I pull the stopper out with the intention of letting my feelings drip out, and usually that works, but every once in a while, what I'm thinking and feeling comes out in a torrent of emotions, both good and bad, and I have to struggle for a bit to bottle them up again. This would be one of those times.
My family and my friends are my life. Every night before I go to bed, I thank God for blessing me with such good people in my life. Sure, we all have our faults, but I cannot imagine myself living a happy life without these people. My family... well we tend to grate on each others' nerves sometimes like all families do, but at the end of the day we know we all love each other. The same with my friends. I have no two friends who are exactly alike (though some of them insist that they're twins separated at birth - maybe a later post can be devoted to that particular bromance), and that's a good thing. With every one of my friends, I have different memories, different viewpoints, and different things that make us say, "This is why we're friends."
I know I don't show it often, but I do care very deeply about my friends and their well-being. I could not bear to see any one of them get hurt, especially if I knew there was something I could do to spare them pain. If there was a chance for me to prevent a friend from getting hurt, and I let it happen anyway... I don't see any difference between that situation and a situation where I hurt that friend myself.
Don't get me wrong here, I believe my friends are perfectly capable of making their own decisions, and either reaping the benefits or suffering the consequences of that decision. It is not my job, nor is it my business, to tell anybody what to do. I might tell my friend, "Hey, you're being stupid about ____," or, "Maybe you should think about what you're doing about _____," but I recognize that we're all human beings, capable of choosing what we will and will not do. Above all, I want my friends to be happy. If my friend is happy, I am happy. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
But that doesn't mean I don't worry. Worrying is something I do a lot; in fact I do it too much for my own good. My imagination sometimes runs wild with outrageous scenarios that might happen from the most miniscule things. I can do some very irrational things if I don't keep myself in check. But what I did today... I deemed it rational, and though it's caused quite a bit of grief for me and quite possibly for others as well, I still believe it was justified, though I know I could have handled things much differently.
You see, this is rarely a cut-and-dry issue. What if one friend's pleasure is another friend's pain? What should you do then? What do you do when you see that someone is doing something that bothers another person, a close friend of the happy one? What about if the person who is happy is hiding particular aspects of the thing that makes him/her happy from loved ones because he/she knows they might be uncomfortable knowing those aspects? What do you do if you know your friend could be handling the situation differently, and that his/her current course of action could lead to him/her getting hurt? What if your friend appears blind to how his/her actions are affecting those around him/her? What do you do if you know you aren't the only one worried about the situation, and that somebody should say something, but nobody knows when or how to address that person? What do you do when an opportunity to say something presents itself - do you take that opportunity, knowing that a better opportunity may come at some point in the future, or do you say nothing, knowing that by saying nothing, the situation could become even more complicated?
I care very much about a friend involved in a difficult situation, so I chose to say something today. It didn't go well, and that person is upset, and I don't expect us to hang out or talk much for the foreseeable future. I know I could have handled things differently. Maybe I should have gone to other friends with similar concerns to see if we should talk to the person as a group. But the fact of the matter is I didn't do that, and now I'm hurting inside. I don't want to see this person get hurt, and I pray that won't be the case. But what have I done? Have I overstepped my bounds? Why did I overreach? It's very difficult, and now it's out of my hands. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Friday, February 4, 2011
How to Succeed at Bowling Without Really Trying
Tonight I went bowling with a group of work friends. There were supposed to be six of us, but we had a couple people drop out at the last minute, so only four of us could make it: me, Kristen, Jenny, and Mike, Jenny's boyfriend. For those of you who have read my previous posts (not very many of you, I would think), I'll fill in some blanks here. Jenny's the girl from the fitting room a couple posts back, and Kristen's her bff.
Anyway, I got the text to go to the bowling alley at about 9 tonight, so I headed out. I got there and without thinking, turned into the part of the parking lot covered in ice from the storm we had this week. Not my best decision ever. I tried getting into a parking space, but I get stuck in the ice. I'm driving my dad's Silverado that's almost 20 years old, and the thing doesn't have 4-wheel drive. Awesome. I call up my friends. We tried pushing the thing out, but it wasn't working, so we just decided to leave it for the time being. I called my dad, who was picking my mom up from work. He said there was some fertilizer in the trunk that I could probably use to get some traction. We went out and tried it, and the truck moved a bit, but not much. Then this guy drives by and says he has a tow cable that we can try to use. Turns out his "cable" was a latching strap, but it was better than nothing. The guy was probably a bit drunk, but he and his friends tried to help anyways. After a couple attempts, we were able to get the truck out, and I tried parking again.
By this time, Mike, Jenny, and Kristen were trying to help another driver who got stuck in the parking lot. I thought I should help, so I manuevered my car into another parking space and got out to help. The truck was slanted at an angle and pretty close to another car, but I figured I was ok. We helped the guy, and then I went back to reposition my car. Problem was, I was stuck again, and to make matters worse, the lady whose car was next to me came out and started complaining about not being able to leave. Then she went inside and started complaining to the manager, and so he sent somebody out to try to see how to make everything work. The lady had plenty of room to go without hitting me if she would just back out straight and then turn, but she wouldn't hear it. Finally, they convinced her that she could do it, and she (unhappily, I might add), went on her merry way. Fun stuff.
Then one of the maintenance guys went out to try to help me. We went through two buckets of rock salt trying to get the stupid thing to move, until finally I had enough room where I could just gun the engine and jump over the curb and into the street. I decided it would probably be best if I parked across the street, seeing as how that lot was less crowded and had less ice.
Finally, about an hour after we got there, we got down to bowling. The manager was nice enough to give us three games for the price of two, I guess in part to make up for the past hour. I'm not complaining. It was a lot of fun. I'm not that good at bowling, but I think I had a respectable day. I was last in our first game, but I broke triple digits in the other two, and I actually won the last game. Kristen had told everybody she would win all three games, so it felt good to prove her wrong. Of course, the others will say that I won because we had all agreed to not try in the third game, and nobody really did try. I guess that proves that I'm just better at not trying than the rest of them :) It's not my fault I bowled straight at the 1 pin most of the time in the last game; I really had no idea what I was doing! And, at least I didn't lose my bowling ball on my backswing multiple times (Jenny), I didn't fall down while bowling (Jenny and Kristen), and I didn't have a fault all night (all three of them, though Kristen cheated Mike into fouling on the last frame lol).
All in all it was a pretty good night. So that's all I have. Remember, I have thoughts too you know :)
Anyway, I got the text to go to the bowling alley at about 9 tonight, so I headed out. I got there and without thinking, turned into the part of the parking lot covered in ice from the storm we had this week. Not my best decision ever. I tried getting into a parking space, but I get stuck in the ice. I'm driving my dad's Silverado that's almost 20 years old, and the thing doesn't have 4-wheel drive. Awesome. I call up my friends. We tried pushing the thing out, but it wasn't working, so we just decided to leave it for the time being. I called my dad, who was picking my mom up from work. He said there was some fertilizer in the trunk that I could probably use to get some traction. We went out and tried it, and the truck moved a bit, but not much. Then this guy drives by and says he has a tow cable that we can try to use. Turns out his "cable" was a latching strap, but it was better than nothing. The guy was probably a bit drunk, but he and his friends tried to help anyways. After a couple attempts, we were able to get the truck out, and I tried parking again.
By this time, Mike, Jenny, and Kristen were trying to help another driver who got stuck in the parking lot. I thought I should help, so I manuevered my car into another parking space and got out to help. The truck was slanted at an angle and pretty close to another car, but I figured I was ok. We helped the guy, and then I went back to reposition my car. Problem was, I was stuck again, and to make matters worse, the lady whose car was next to me came out and started complaining about not being able to leave. Then she went inside and started complaining to the manager, and so he sent somebody out to try to see how to make everything work. The lady had plenty of room to go without hitting me if she would just back out straight and then turn, but she wouldn't hear it. Finally, they convinced her that she could do it, and she (unhappily, I might add), went on her merry way. Fun stuff.
Then one of the maintenance guys went out to try to help me. We went through two buckets of rock salt trying to get the stupid thing to move, until finally I had enough room where I could just gun the engine and jump over the curb and into the street. I decided it would probably be best if I parked across the street, seeing as how that lot was less crowded and had less ice.
Finally, about an hour after we got there, we got down to bowling. The manager was nice enough to give us three games for the price of two, I guess in part to make up for the past hour. I'm not complaining. It was a lot of fun. I'm not that good at bowling, but I think I had a respectable day. I was last in our first game, but I broke triple digits in the other two, and I actually won the last game. Kristen had told everybody she would win all three games, so it felt good to prove her wrong. Of course, the others will say that I won because we had all agreed to not try in the third game, and nobody really did try. I guess that proves that I'm just better at not trying than the rest of them :) It's not my fault I bowled straight at the 1 pin most of the time in the last game; I really had no idea what I was doing! And, at least I didn't lose my bowling ball on my backswing multiple times (Jenny), I didn't fall down while bowling (Jenny and Kristen), and I didn't have a fault all night (all three of them, though Kristen cheated Mike into fouling on the last frame lol).
All in all it was a pretty good night. So that's all I have. Remember, I have thoughts too you know :)
Monday, January 31, 2011
With a Little Help from My Friends
A bit of a departure from the weary, dreary posts of late, possibly because I'm not home right now. I'm in Carbondale at some friends' apartment. I'm sick, and stuff at home was sucking really bad, so I jumped at the chance when they invited me down here. Of course, that meant that Dad had to drive me down here right when the freezing rain was starting to freeze, but I needed to get out of Dodge. Sounds like we're having the storm of the century back home, but right now I'm cooling my jets in the Dale. Hooray. Hope everybody stays safe and I'll be back soon!
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Another Insanely Captivating Story Where I Try To Make Something Out of Nothing
Hello world! In case you didn't see the timestamp, I'm writing this at 1:45 in the morning on a Sunday. I have church in the morning. Dad told us we're going to the 9:45 service. I hope I wake up on time. I really haven't been making it to church as much as I should be. It's one of those things that's sort of been getting lost in the shuffle. Either I'm working during church; or I work the night before church, and then I sleep in when I'm supposed to be in church; or I didn't work but I sleep in without meaning to because of some reason or another. I believe in God though. I have a personal relationship with Jesus, we talk every night before I go to sleep. It's a bit complicated though, and I don't really want to go into religion.
I was sick again today. My diet for the past few days has consisted of 4 things: soup, bread, water, and Sprite (there was a Sierra Mist sprinkled in there too). It hasn't been fun. Today I was supposed to go to a Strategic Gaming Day for the History Club at SWIC. I'm not really all that into strategic gaming, but it was a fundraiser for the club, and since I am the club's secretary, I probably should have been there if I was able to go. I also had a group of friends who wanted me to come play hockey at some point during the day. Turns out I wasn't able to do either. My stomach was still bugging me, and last night I could only sleep in 90 minute intervals before my stomach woke me up. Not a happy camper this morning. So I notified both parties I couldn't make it. Slept off and on, and finally woke up for good at about 11. Then it was pretty much one of those "let's lay around the house not really doing much of anything" days. Saw about 3 episodes of Law and Order. And it wasn't one of the good Law and Order's either, it was Criminal Intent, which I don't think is too bad unless you compare it to the original or SVU. I was extremely bored because my friends were either playing hockey, at the History Club event, at work, or not in the area.
Then at about 5, I got a call from work, asking if I could come in tonight. I figured that wouldn't be a problem. It'd give me something to do, maybe I can have lunch with my work friends, so I said yes, despite the fact that I'm feeling bad. Then I had to worry about getting to work, because there wasn't a car at my house for me to drive (should've thought about that when I said yes). I have numbers for 6 of my co-workers. I knew three of them were working, one had worked earlier and probably wouldn't want to come back, and the fifth sometimes works overnights on Saturdays, so I figured he probably would be sleeping. I called the sixth one, because he wasn't working and he lives about 5 minutes down the road. He was in the middle of playing Guitar Hero when I got hold of him, and he said he could be at my house in about 10-15 minutes, which was fine since I needed to get dressed and all. 15 minutes rolls around, and he's not here, but my dad comes home to drop off his truck, should I need it at some point tonight. So I call my friend, and he doesn't pick up, so I text him and say thanks anyway, but I have a ride. He texts back, saying he was on his way because they called him in as well. But I got the text after I had started towards work, so que sera sera.
Got to work at about 5:35 and it was a madhouse. Saw that the person I was covering for was scheduled for a 6:30 lunch, which coincidentally was the same lunch time for my three friends who were already at work. Yay. But because I'm a good little worker bee, I asked my manager if I should take my lunch at that time, because I've never taken lunch within an hour of getting to work. She told me to hold off until about 7:30 or 8. I was bummed that I asked that question, but it probably was for the better, because there was some drama at the 6:30 lunch table. Still, I was starving by the time 8 rolled around, and I wasn't sure if I could hold much down. Plus, the only pair of clean pants I had are a waist size too big, so I keep thinking they're going to fall down on me. So I clocked out and went to go get a belt, and my friend was there and I asked her about which belt I should get because I have little fashion sense whatsoever, and then we talked a bit. Then I went to go buy some soup, because I did want to eat something. My throat was killing me too, so the soup was good for me.
We didn't end up leaving the store until after 11, which really upset my friend that helped me pick out a belt. She's got a new boyfriend, and they were supposed to hang out after she got off, and she wasn't too happy about the delay. Then she and her bff left, and I ended up giving a ride to my friend who I'm discussing getting an apartment with, and then we just sat in his driveway talking for about half an hour. Silly stuff, really, nothing earthshaking enough that I should put online. And then I got home, and my sister and I spent the next hour switching between Fresh Prince of Bel Air and How I Met Your Mother. My day was full of interesting things to write about.
I probably should at some point stop referring to people as "my friend" or "he" & "she," but I mean, for right now I probably shouldn't post people's names online without their permission. I mean, Facebook is one thing, but at least there there are some safeguards against the entire world learning about them. Once I get people's permission I might going into a little more detail about them, but for right now you'll have to deal with silhouettes. Hope you're okay with that. Heck, it doesn't matter if you're okay with that, because I'm the one writing here. Anyway, my bed beckons, so thank you for your time, you've been a wonderful audience, good night and God bless.
I was sick again today. My diet for the past few days has consisted of 4 things: soup, bread, water, and Sprite (there was a Sierra Mist sprinkled in there too). It hasn't been fun. Today I was supposed to go to a Strategic Gaming Day for the History Club at SWIC. I'm not really all that into strategic gaming, but it was a fundraiser for the club, and since I am the club's secretary, I probably should have been there if I was able to go. I also had a group of friends who wanted me to come play hockey at some point during the day. Turns out I wasn't able to do either. My stomach was still bugging me, and last night I could only sleep in 90 minute intervals before my stomach woke me up. Not a happy camper this morning. So I notified both parties I couldn't make it. Slept off and on, and finally woke up for good at about 11. Then it was pretty much one of those "let's lay around the house not really doing much of anything" days. Saw about 3 episodes of Law and Order. And it wasn't one of the good Law and Order's either, it was Criminal Intent, which I don't think is too bad unless you compare it to the original or SVU. I was extremely bored because my friends were either playing hockey, at the History Club event, at work, or not in the area.
Then at about 5, I got a call from work, asking if I could come in tonight. I figured that wouldn't be a problem. It'd give me something to do, maybe I can have lunch with my work friends, so I said yes, despite the fact that I'm feeling bad. Then I had to worry about getting to work, because there wasn't a car at my house for me to drive (should've thought about that when I said yes). I have numbers for 6 of my co-workers. I knew three of them were working, one had worked earlier and probably wouldn't want to come back, and the fifth sometimes works overnights on Saturdays, so I figured he probably would be sleeping. I called the sixth one, because he wasn't working and he lives about 5 minutes down the road. He was in the middle of playing Guitar Hero when I got hold of him, and he said he could be at my house in about 10-15 minutes, which was fine since I needed to get dressed and all. 15 minutes rolls around, and he's not here, but my dad comes home to drop off his truck, should I need it at some point tonight. So I call my friend, and he doesn't pick up, so I text him and say thanks anyway, but I have a ride. He texts back, saying he was on his way because they called him in as well. But I got the text after I had started towards work, so que sera sera.
Got to work at about 5:35 and it was a madhouse. Saw that the person I was covering for was scheduled for a 6:30 lunch, which coincidentally was the same lunch time for my three friends who were already at work. Yay. But because I'm a good little worker bee, I asked my manager if I should take my lunch at that time, because I've never taken lunch within an hour of getting to work. She told me to hold off until about 7:30 or 8. I was bummed that I asked that question, but it probably was for the better, because there was some drama at the 6:30 lunch table. Still, I was starving by the time 8 rolled around, and I wasn't sure if I could hold much down. Plus, the only pair of clean pants I had are a waist size too big, so I keep thinking they're going to fall down on me. So I clocked out and went to go get a belt, and my friend was there and I asked her about which belt I should get because I have little fashion sense whatsoever, and then we talked a bit. Then I went to go buy some soup, because I did want to eat something. My throat was killing me too, so the soup was good for me.
We didn't end up leaving the store until after 11, which really upset my friend that helped me pick out a belt. She's got a new boyfriend, and they were supposed to hang out after she got off, and she wasn't too happy about the delay. Then she and her bff left, and I ended up giving a ride to my friend who I'm discussing getting an apartment with, and then we just sat in his driveway talking for about half an hour. Silly stuff, really, nothing earthshaking enough that I should put online. And then I got home, and my sister and I spent the next hour switching between Fresh Prince of Bel Air and How I Met Your Mother. My day was full of interesting things to write about.
I probably should at some point stop referring to people as "my friend" or "he" & "she," but I mean, for right now I probably shouldn't post people's names online without their permission. I mean, Facebook is one thing, but at least there there are some safeguards against the entire world learning about them. Once I get people's permission I might going into a little more detail about them, but for right now you'll have to deal with silhouettes. Hope you're okay with that. Heck, it doesn't matter if you're okay with that, because I'm the one writing here. Anyway, my bed beckons, so thank you for your time, you've been a wonderful audience, good night and God bless.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Sick Sick Sick Sick Sick
Did the title give you any hint as to what's going on right now? Oh my god, I can't hold anything down right now. I don't get it either, I was fine yesterday at school, and then I got home and things went downhill fast. First the congestion hit, followed by a massive headache and then the wonderful stomach issues. I'll spare the graphic details for the wonderful people who may or may not be reading this, but suffice it to say it wasn't pretty at all. As it is, my head's pounding right now. I definitely can't make it to my history club meeting, and I'm seriously considering calling off work, which I don't want to do because my hours are getting cut enough as is :( Of course, since I'm bored and I don't really feel like doing much of anything, and I can't sleep because of my infrequent interruptions, I decided to get online and type to my heart's content.
So tell me, wonderful web people who probably aren't reading this, what should I make this blog about? The thoughts and observations of a community college student who desperately wants to leave home but isn't sure if he can do it because he's lacking in funds and isn't sure if he could survive on his own? I asked a friend from work about an apartment. He's a good guy who also is wanting to leave home, but he wants to know that there'd be enough money to cover an apartment. He's talking to a couple others about maybe getting a place, hopefully we can work something out soon. I hope we can work something out. I mean, look, it's not that I don't love my parents and all; in fact, it's quite the opposite. They've taken care of me for 21+ years, and I'm really thankful for that. It's just... they get kinda smothering, you know? Always asking "Where are you going?" "Who are you with?" "What time did you get home last night?" and other questions like that. And it's just gotten worse since I had my accident. I think that scared all of us. Really, we're a pretty tight-knit clan, even though we may not show it sometimes; we circle the wagons after any family crisis, like when the house got nailed by the tornado a couple summers ago, or my aforementioned car accident. I know they're just trying to be good parents, and that they care about me, but I'm 21 years old. I need a chance to spread my wings and I'm really starting to feel cramped here at home.
Plus, it gets kinda irritating when they question why I've got beer in the fridge. I should tell you my parents aren't drinkers. Dad's diabetic and he didn't really drink all that much in the first place, while Mom... well, I can only remember seeing my mother consume alcohol once or twice (not counting the communion wine that we get whenever we go to Lutheran churches), and it was just one glass of wine or whatever was in the glass. Guess she just doesn't like the taste. So alcohol hasn't been a big part of our family, thank God. Whenever I to to parties, which isn't often, I get a crash course in what it can do to people, and it can really mess some people up. It can really change some people. Sure it helps loosen people up, drops their awareness and what not, but... well, I'm just not a huge fan of alcohol. I'm the stuckup one who didn't drink before he turned 21. I bought a six-pack of Bud Light just after midnight on my birthday, but I waited a couple days to drink it. It's ok, but I'm not too huge a fan. I'm a bit of a lightweight too. One night I ventured outside my comfort zone a bit and drank TWO beers (I had to finish off that six pack, the beer had been in my fridge for about 2 months, and I thought why the hell not?). I didn't get insanely drunk, but I did have a fun conversation with a friend of mine where I got a bit loopy and out of character. She was like "Well, aren't you just the little talker?" It was pretty embarrassing. Then about a week later, I got another six pack and put it in the fridge, and that's where the trouble started. My parents now think I'm an alcoholic, which I'm about the furthest thing from. That six pack's been in the fridge for about a month, and I think I've had only 2, maybe 3 of the beers. I'm just not a huge fan. I've got a bottle of champaigne and a bottle of sangria up in my room too, and I haven't opened either. Call me a wet blanket or whatever, but... yeah.
Forgive me for that random alcohol tangent. I was asking what this blog should be about, wasn't I? I don't really know, you tell me. I would be content with just writing about life and what not, because believe me, I do some things that make my life far from average. Ask my friends, they'll tell you. Maybe that's what I'll talk about in post 3, my friends. I have to be careful though, because we are on the internet, and anybody can read this. So I'll try to keep it PG.
Now I'm coughing up a storm. What the hell is wrong with me? I want to go to work tonight, I need the money, what with me wanting to get a car and an apartment. Then there's the matter of where I'll be after SWIC. That's another thing my parents are grating on me about: "Where are you going to school next year?" "Why aren't you applying for scholarships?" "You need to get that application taken care of!" "You have family asking about where you're going to go!" "You need to make a decision soon!" Oh my God, why can't you see that I'm trying here? I have things that I'm committed to besides where I'm going to have to be in six months, and I realize that it's a very important decision to make, but I feel that by trying to help me you're unintentionally trying to wring the life out of me. I can't deal with all this stress! Then, when I try to ease the tensions, they yell some more, and I just go into shutdown mode, and it doesn't help matters.
What also isn't helping matters is that I just had a big fight with some of my friends who live here, and I haven't had anybody to vent to. It was my fault we weren't talking. I did something really stupid, and then I tried to fix things and those things ended up making things worse, and then we didn't talk for a week, and then we worked it out but then I read some things wrong which got me even more upset and set things back again. We're talking now, but I know I messed things up bad and... I don't want to be a burden.
Listen to me, wallowing in my own pool of self-pity. You didn't come here to read that, did you? I'm sorry. I'll try not to be a downer on this blog. It's a new thing, you know, writing to nobody in particular, hoping that somebody comes along, clicks the link, and starts reading. Believe me, I'm usually not a depressing, down-on-his-luck person. I hope I can share that in this blog. This is actually kind of fun. Though, right now my stomach is telling me to do something else, so I'm gonna hit publish and take care of some things that I don't see fit for posting on the Internet. Bye.
So tell me, wonderful web people who probably aren't reading this, what should I make this blog about? The thoughts and observations of a community college student who desperately wants to leave home but isn't sure if he can do it because he's lacking in funds and isn't sure if he could survive on his own? I asked a friend from work about an apartment. He's a good guy who also is wanting to leave home, but he wants to know that there'd be enough money to cover an apartment. He's talking to a couple others about maybe getting a place, hopefully we can work something out soon. I hope we can work something out. I mean, look, it's not that I don't love my parents and all; in fact, it's quite the opposite. They've taken care of me for 21+ years, and I'm really thankful for that. It's just... they get kinda smothering, you know? Always asking "Where are you going?" "Who are you with?" "What time did you get home last night?" and other questions like that. And it's just gotten worse since I had my accident. I think that scared all of us. Really, we're a pretty tight-knit clan, even though we may not show it sometimes; we circle the wagons after any family crisis, like when the house got nailed by the tornado a couple summers ago, or my aforementioned car accident. I know they're just trying to be good parents, and that they care about me, but I'm 21 years old. I need a chance to spread my wings and I'm really starting to feel cramped here at home.
Plus, it gets kinda irritating when they question why I've got beer in the fridge. I should tell you my parents aren't drinkers. Dad's diabetic and he didn't really drink all that much in the first place, while Mom... well, I can only remember seeing my mother consume alcohol once or twice (not counting the communion wine that we get whenever we go to Lutheran churches), and it was just one glass of wine or whatever was in the glass. Guess she just doesn't like the taste. So alcohol hasn't been a big part of our family, thank God. Whenever I to to parties, which isn't often, I get a crash course in what it can do to people, and it can really mess some people up. It can really change some people. Sure it helps loosen people up, drops their awareness and what not, but... well, I'm just not a huge fan of alcohol. I'm the stuckup one who didn't drink before he turned 21. I bought a six-pack of Bud Light just after midnight on my birthday, but I waited a couple days to drink it. It's ok, but I'm not too huge a fan. I'm a bit of a lightweight too. One night I ventured outside my comfort zone a bit and drank TWO beers (I had to finish off that six pack, the beer had been in my fridge for about 2 months, and I thought why the hell not?). I didn't get insanely drunk, but I did have a fun conversation with a friend of mine where I got a bit loopy and out of character. She was like "Well, aren't you just the little talker?" It was pretty embarrassing. Then about a week later, I got another six pack and put it in the fridge, and that's where the trouble started. My parents now think I'm an alcoholic, which I'm about the furthest thing from. That six pack's been in the fridge for about a month, and I think I've had only 2, maybe 3 of the beers. I'm just not a huge fan. I've got a bottle of champaigne and a bottle of sangria up in my room too, and I haven't opened either. Call me a wet blanket or whatever, but... yeah.
Forgive me for that random alcohol tangent. I was asking what this blog should be about, wasn't I? I don't really know, you tell me. I would be content with just writing about life and what not, because believe me, I do some things that make my life far from average. Ask my friends, they'll tell you. Maybe that's what I'll talk about in post 3, my friends. I have to be careful though, because we are on the internet, and anybody can read this. So I'll try to keep it PG.
Now I'm coughing up a storm. What the hell is wrong with me? I want to go to work tonight, I need the money, what with me wanting to get a car and an apartment. Then there's the matter of where I'll be after SWIC. That's another thing my parents are grating on me about: "Where are you going to school next year?" "Why aren't you applying for scholarships?" "You need to get that application taken care of!" "You have family asking about where you're going to go!" "You need to make a decision soon!" Oh my God, why can't you see that I'm trying here? I have things that I'm committed to besides where I'm going to have to be in six months, and I realize that it's a very important decision to make, but I feel that by trying to help me you're unintentionally trying to wring the life out of me. I can't deal with all this stress! Then, when I try to ease the tensions, they yell some more, and I just go into shutdown mode, and it doesn't help matters.
What also isn't helping matters is that I just had a big fight with some of my friends who live here, and I haven't had anybody to vent to. It was my fault we weren't talking. I did something really stupid, and then I tried to fix things and those things ended up making things worse, and then we didn't talk for a week, and then we worked it out but then I read some things wrong which got me even more upset and set things back again. We're talking now, but I know I messed things up bad and... I don't want to be a burden.
Listen to me, wallowing in my own pool of self-pity. You didn't come here to read that, did you? I'm sorry. I'll try not to be a downer on this blog. It's a new thing, you know, writing to nobody in particular, hoping that somebody comes along, clicks the link, and starts reading. Believe me, I'm usually not a depressing, down-on-his-luck person. I hope I can share that in this blog. This is actually kind of fun. Though, right now my stomach is telling me to do something else, so I'm gonna hit publish and take care of some things that I don't see fit for posting on the Internet. Bye.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The Always Earthshattering First Post
Hmm... haven't done one of these in years. Not since I stopped frequenting Xanga, at least, so about 5 years ago then. Xanga was my first experience to social networking though, so it had its perks. Did that for most of my sophomore year in high school. Then it was on to Myspace, which I frequented for a year, and finally my senior year of high school I started my Facebook page, and I haven't really moved on from there. But like I said, Xanga was my introduction to how powerful (and dangerous, if you're not careful) blogging and networking can be.
Now I know how intriguing the first post of anything always is. It's like that essay the teacher always made you do in elementary school when you got off summer vacation. You know the one, it always had the breathtaking title "What I Did Over Summer Vacation" or "My Trip to Grandma's House" or, and I remember this vividly because I had to read my paper after the kid who wrote this gem of an essay, "The Summer of Nothingness." Pretty much the kid wrote about how he sat on his fat ass all summer long because his parents took away his N64 (I'm dating myself a bit here), and he had no urge to just go outside and run around. He then ended his speech to the class with, "And now I'm here in school, and I really don't give a shit." The other kids were all laughing at how the kid used a bad word, and the teacher literally dragged him all the way to the principal's office. Now how was the the ten-year-old me supposed to follow an act like that?
I went a bit off topic there, and you'll find that I do that a lot, should I continue writing this blog. But my point was, first posts tend to be boring because the author has no direction where to go, no idea what his audience (should he have one) is looking for. So I suppose I should just get the obligatory "getting to know you" bits out of the way. So, Internet, here I am.
My name is Gene Marquez, and I am a student at Southwestern Illinois College in Belleville, Illinois, which not surprisingly is located in southwestern Illinois. Bet that's a shocking bit of news, that there's a school in Southwestern Illinois called Southwestern Illinois, but you know, some places don't have that. Take New Jersey. There isn't a school called the University of New Jersey. It's called Rutgers. Maybe you've heard of it. But I digress.
I'm 21 years old, and I still live at home. Two parents, one brother, one sister. My dad's Filipino, and Mom... my mother's side of the family has English, Irish, Scotch, German, Dutch, and probably something else from Northern Europe. It's a bit of a mix. My siblings and I are staggered enough in age that we celebrate "milestone" birthdays within a calendar year of each other. When I turned 18, my brother turned 13, and my sister turned 10. Right now, I'm 21, my brother is 16, and my sister is 13. Go figure. Don't think my folks planned it out that way, but that's how it worked out. Just a cute little tidbit I thought I'd share.
What else can I say... my dad's a retired major in the US Air Force. You know what that means... we moved a lot. I was born in California at a base that no longer exists; my parents are both native Californians, so I got to see my family a lot for the first few years of my life. When I was 3, we moved to Montana. Big difference between Cali and Montana. Cold, not a lot of people, cold... but I wasn't complaining. Heck, I lived there between the ages of 3 and 6, I didn't know any better. The city we lived in had about 60,000 people, and was Montana's third largest city. Let's see, what can I say about my experience in Montana... my brother was born there, and I got to see a lot of baseball. At the time, the Dodgers had their rookie league team there, and we went to see a lot of games. That might foreshadow a bit of who I am, a kid gains his love of baseball by watching it in the warm, sunny, thriving metropolis known as Great Falls, Montana. Should've known then I was scarring myself for life.
We moved from Montana to Illinois, just outside of St. Louis, just before my 7th birthday. There, we got to see probably better quality baseball with the St. Louis Cardinals; we got there just in time for the arrival of Mark McGwire, the home run race of '98, and his subsequent fall from grace. But I didn't care, I was hooked. It was also in this first stay in Illinois that I began to foster an interest in music; some of my mom's family is musically inclined, and her parents gave my parents the family piano. Mom could dabble in a few tunes, but not really too much; she can read notes, but I'm not sure how much else she knows. We had a songbook on the piano though, and one day I just kinda sat down on the bench and started to teach myself; I couldn't read notes worth a lick, but for some unknown reason the sheet music had numbers, starting at 1 and going up, and I just sort of started to figure out the music. I had no idea what I was doing, and I wouldn't call myself a prodigy at all, but my parents finally figured out that I should probably start taking piano lessons. So I started those in fourth grade. A year later I tried playing trumpet in the school band, but I didn't really like it that much. The band instructor and me didn't get on too well.
In 2001 we moved from Illinois to Oklahoma. By this time, I was old enough to know that I liked Illinois, and I didn't want to leave. And when I got to Oklahoma, I wanted to go back to Illinois. Compared to where we had been, Oklahoma was another world entirely. That, combined with the fact that the attacks on 9/11 happened about a month after we moved, and that my grandmother suffered a stroke in early 2002 and died a few months later, made me less than a happy camper. I mean, I never became a teenage rebel or anything (in fact, I was one of those squeaky clean teens), but it took me a while to get adjusted to Oklahoma. But I kept up with my two passions, music and baseball. I took up trumpet again, playing in the school band for the 3 years we were in Oklahoma (I quit after that though, when I realized I was a terrible marcher), I continued piano lessons, and I played baseball in summer leagues. Not that I was any good, but I just liked it.
In 2004 my Dad retired and he decided to take the family back to Illinois. I was happy to be back. Good to be with my friends and all, you know. Plus, I would be moving at the start of high school, when everybody at the school would be adjusting to high school, so "new kid syndrome" wouldn't be as bad a problem. Let's see, in high school, I was in Spanish Club, Scholar Bowl (I captained the team my senior year, and we went to state!), National Honor Society, yada yada yada. This is really dry, isn't it?
I graduated from O'Fallon Township High School in 2008. I didn't know what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to go to school. I applied at over ten schools, and I got into most of them. Really wanted to go to Syracuse up in New York, but money at the time wasn't gonna work out, so I chose Saint Louis University, just across the Mississippi from home. Got there, didn't like it, got out, and I ended up at SWIC, where I have been for the past two and a half years. Probably still gonna be there next year, because I have no idea what I want to do. Oh, and I work at Target. So it goes.
So, you might wonder why I'm doing this blog? Because I'm bored, and because my friend has to do this for class, and in my boredom I decided to make one too. Isn't that fun? Anyway, hopefully future posts are a lot more fun than this one. Because I have thoughts too you know.
Now I know how intriguing the first post of anything always is. It's like that essay the teacher always made you do in elementary school when you got off summer vacation. You know the one, it always had the breathtaking title "What I Did Over Summer Vacation" or "My Trip to Grandma's House" or, and I remember this vividly because I had to read my paper after the kid who wrote this gem of an essay, "The Summer of Nothingness." Pretty much the kid wrote about how he sat on his fat ass all summer long because his parents took away his N64 (I'm dating myself a bit here), and he had no urge to just go outside and run around. He then ended his speech to the class with, "And now I'm here in school, and I really don't give a shit." The other kids were all laughing at how the kid used a bad word, and the teacher literally dragged him all the way to the principal's office. Now how was the the ten-year-old me supposed to follow an act like that?
I went a bit off topic there, and you'll find that I do that a lot, should I continue writing this blog. But my point was, first posts tend to be boring because the author has no direction where to go, no idea what his audience (should he have one) is looking for. So I suppose I should just get the obligatory "getting to know you" bits out of the way. So, Internet, here I am.
My name is Gene Marquez, and I am a student at Southwestern Illinois College in Belleville, Illinois, which not surprisingly is located in southwestern Illinois. Bet that's a shocking bit of news, that there's a school in Southwestern Illinois called Southwestern Illinois, but you know, some places don't have that. Take New Jersey. There isn't a school called the University of New Jersey. It's called Rutgers. Maybe you've heard of it. But I digress.
I'm 21 years old, and I still live at home. Two parents, one brother, one sister. My dad's Filipino, and Mom... my mother's side of the family has English, Irish, Scotch, German, Dutch, and probably something else from Northern Europe. It's a bit of a mix. My siblings and I are staggered enough in age that we celebrate "milestone" birthdays within a calendar year of each other. When I turned 18, my brother turned 13, and my sister turned 10. Right now, I'm 21, my brother is 16, and my sister is 13. Go figure. Don't think my folks planned it out that way, but that's how it worked out. Just a cute little tidbit I thought I'd share.
What else can I say... my dad's a retired major in the US Air Force. You know what that means... we moved a lot. I was born in California at a base that no longer exists; my parents are both native Californians, so I got to see my family a lot for the first few years of my life. When I was 3, we moved to Montana. Big difference between Cali and Montana. Cold, not a lot of people, cold... but I wasn't complaining. Heck, I lived there between the ages of 3 and 6, I didn't know any better. The city we lived in had about 60,000 people, and was Montana's third largest city. Let's see, what can I say about my experience in Montana... my brother was born there, and I got to see a lot of baseball. At the time, the Dodgers had their rookie league team there, and we went to see a lot of games. That might foreshadow a bit of who I am, a kid gains his love of baseball by watching it in the warm, sunny, thriving metropolis known as Great Falls, Montana. Should've known then I was scarring myself for life.
We moved from Montana to Illinois, just outside of St. Louis, just before my 7th birthday. There, we got to see probably better quality baseball with the St. Louis Cardinals; we got there just in time for the arrival of Mark McGwire, the home run race of '98, and his subsequent fall from grace. But I didn't care, I was hooked. It was also in this first stay in Illinois that I began to foster an interest in music; some of my mom's family is musically inclined, and her parents gave my parents the family piano. Mom could dabble in a few tunes, but not really too much; she can read notes, but I'm not sure how much else she knows. We had a songbook on the piano though, and one day I just kinda sat down on the bench and started to teach myself; I couldn't read notes worth a lick, but for some unknown reason the sheet music had numbers, starting at 1 and going up, and I just sort of started to figure out the music. I had no idea what I was doing, and I wouldn't call myself a prodigy at all, but my parents finally figured out that I should probably start taking piano lessons. So I started those in fourth grade. A year later I tried playing trumpet in the school band, but I didn't really like it that much. The band instructor and me didn't get on too well.
In 2001 we moved from Illinois to Oklahoma. By this time, I was old enough to know that I liked Illinois, and I didn't want to leave. And when I got to Oklahoma, I wanted to go back to Illinois. Compared to where we had been, Oklahoma was another world entirely. That, combined with the fact that the attacks on 9/11 happened about a month after we moved, and that my grandmother suffered a stroke in early 2002 and died a few months later, made me less than a happy camper. I mean, I never became a teenage rebel or anything (in fact, I was one of those squeaky clean teens), but it took me a while to get adjusted to Oklahoma. But I kept up with my two passions, music and baseball. I took up trumpet again, playing in the school band for the 3 years we were in Oklahoma (I quit after that though, when I realized I was a terrible marcher), I continued piano lessons, and I played baseball in summer leagues. Not that I was any good, but I just liked it.
In 2004 my Dad retired and he decided to take the family back to Illinois. I was happy to be back. Good to be with my friends and all, you know. Plus, I would be moving at the start of high school, when everybody at the school would be adjusting to high school, so "new kid syndrome" wouldn't be as bad a problem. Let's see, in high school, I was in Spanish Club, Scholar Bowl (I captained the team my senior year, and we went to state!), National Honor Society, yada yada yada. This is really dry, isn't it?
I graduated from O'Fallon Township High School in 2008. I didn't know what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to go to school. I applied at over ten schools, and I got into most of them. Really wanted to go to Syracuse up in New York, but money at the time wasn't gonna work out, so I chose Saint Louis University, just across the Mississippi from home. Got there, didn't like it, got out, and I ended up at SWIC, where I have been for the past two and a half years. Probably still gonna be there next year, because I have no idea what I want to do. Oh, and I work at Target. So it goes.
So, you might wonder why I'm doing this blog? Because I'm bored, and because my friend has to do this for class, and in my boredom I decided to make one too. Isn't that fun? Anyway, hopefully future posts are a lot more fun than this one. Because I have thoughts too you know.
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