Look, I figured out image html. The last post was basically an attempt to get comments. A lot of good that did. This one is about chicks.
I watched Something's Gotta Give last night. One of the Movie Gallery's in Dothan is competing with the newest local Video Warehouse. Both places have .99 cent rentals, so I'm pretty much open to watching anything. Thus my interest in this film.
This post isn't necessarily a review of the movie. It's more about my fascination with older women; or should I say, my interest in women outside of my demographic. Besides my inability from birth to look like Keanu Reeves, his character in the movie (Julian), is interested in Diane Keaton (Erica), and I can totally see his why. Not that I think Diane Keaton is all that attractive, I just see why young guys dig older woman sometimes. All the while, Jack Nicholson's character is making his way through the movie, falling more in love with the lady who he wasn't even interested in (he's the type of guy who goes after the young ladies--Diane Keaton's daughter!).
Society accepts older men being into younger women because, well, I don't know. Why do we accept it? But, it's weird for a young guy to dig an older gal. The Bible tells us, men at least, to respect older women as our mothers and respect younger women as our sisters. So perhaps dating much older or younger than you isn't a good idea, but what about dating different races, cultures, types, et cetera (keeping in mind the options that don't contradict the Bible)?
Like I said, this isn't a post about older women. It's not even an argument for why I don't like White Anglo Saxon Protestant females 21-26. It's more about my ability to connect with people who are not like me. I don't think I have a multitude of friends, but I do think I surround myself with a group of people who have various characters, mannerisms, values, beliefs, et cetera. So, just like my friends, I am interested in girls who compliment me, not reflect me. My main point is, I enjoy people I can have an intelligent, fun, stimulating, and enjoyable conversation with. That is probably why I could see myself dating or maybe marrying someone who is considerably older than me, not my race, creed, nationality, or whatever else.
God obviously knows who I am going to marry. Whether there is a one or several possible candidates, whether she is white or not, whether she is older or younger, I need to keep my options open. But, keeping in mind, I need a godly one, not a degenerate one. Which is even more proof that I need to look to God for answers to my questions. I fail a lot; relying on God and having honorable relationships. Maybe I should become a monk?
Don't Die on Me/Can You Help It? Last night me and Donna met Jeff up at Krystal's in Dothan. Can you believe this guy? He went to work on his day off just to give a kid he didn't even like a proper sendoff. Sometimes I like to brag on my friends, particularly when they don't even realize they're getting something right. To tell you the truth, I don't know all the specific details of Jeff's calling but he's put his heart into this job and into those kids. I think that's our basic calling to love people and give of ourselves to help them.
Over that last semester I considered my calling as much as ever. I got a little more clarification and affirmation on my specifics. Or so I think. My family asks what I can do with my degree. I tell them, "get a master's." For this next step will be required of me to reach my next goal: to teach at a college level. But of course, a family wants to know what I can do now. WORK. For too long school schedules have interrupted job possibilities. It is likely that simply having this four-year degree will open more job opportunities this remains to be seen. Even less probable is the likelihood of my finding work in my degree area. I'm not bothered with that right now. Right now I will concern myself with being a good steward and paying off those wonderfully amassed student loans. I'm not putting God or my ministry on hold; I'm being practical.
These past four months have been slow-going and trying. There have surely been more agonizing periods of my life. Certainly I have experienced greater anguish, defeat and loss. Since my uncle's wreck I've dealt with the thing head first. Day after day passes and after 3 months it starts to feel like a really long funeral. The things we have taken as hope quickly begin to look like reflex and not any possibility of hope. But I know, just as easily as he got in that coma he could awake from it. I know people have woken up out of comas after ten or more years. Still, watching his bones turn out and stiffen and watching his body depreciate to a mass of naybe 90 pounds really strangalizes my hope. There is hope, but boy is it under fire. This has all effected me in ways that I don't think can be measured yet. I'm deeply sad.
Sleeping on the floor is an inexpensive way to meet bugs.
Most days when my mind really gets to working it is when I should be going to sleep. So naturally I fight it. Even if what I sit up to do is insignificant like looking up songs to see how many people have covered them, which is what I've been doing these wee hours of tonight. A second ago I got a little too tired to read the screen and decided to lay down on the floor behind me. I woke up fifteen minutes later still as tired but not ready to give in yet. I didn't encounter any bugs this time but I just as well could have. Tne point is I'm endangering my life to sit here and write you this. Spider babies could be hatching in my ears as we speak.
A little known fact is that the land that the apartments I live in are built on was formerly and remains a hotbed on insectual activity. Sure, bugs are everywhere and all of that but this is different. Every bug you've ever met, his roots are in Florida. I swear. This is their natural habitat and they want it back. They are like the Indians or Native Americans in that respect. They have every right, but I don't care they freak me out. They make me paranoid. For example, I'll be sitting here and my leg will itch. I have to wonder if the itch means I'm about to lose blood at the fangs of an angry mosquito. I'm pale which makes me an easy, more approachable, target.
I'm not usually quick enough to kill them. It's not like I ever learned JU-JIT-Su, mind over matter harry carry riddle or whatever. And you might say, what about bug sprays or bug bombs? No. They refuse to die. They are much like Bebe's Kids in that way. This is hand-to-hand combat. Luckily, I sometimes manage to catch them when they don't have all their eyes on me. Oh and when I do it is surely war. You may ask what war is good for. Plenty of things like killing bugs for example. You may ponder what a huge waste this has been. I offer no apology. Actually, I can't believe I sat awake another thirty minutes for this. I call myself a night owl but my gears could not possibly be turning.
Well, it is now certain that nothing can be done for my old email address. I cannot use it because I don't know the *changed* password (I didn't change it). This is the second time this has happened to me with Yahoo!. However, have no fear. I am calling on you, the readers of this site, to help me come up with a new email address. All suggestions will be accepted and considered.
The way you sit all a laze
Not minding the way the sun hits your face
I caught you flipping your hair
You want to act like you don't really care
Style to amend and catch a craze
Fashioned to remove your subtle haze
Adjusting the mirror to see traffic clearer
Annoyed if I stare, bothered if I don't
Make up your mind because makeup won't cover the lies
Beauty can only get you so far
You have to willing to try
Adjusting your look to fit the day
Desperately seeking some other way
I see cars like yours all the time
Methods of penence to make yourself kempt
Unelaborated designs blend with your mind
Excused impressions for second guesses
Somehow you keep finding new ways to feel elated
That's when I knew I shouldn't have hesitated
I waited for the right of way
You yielded and offered it to me
Before I could go, you just left
As I watched you drive off
I'm stunned that you even waited
Accidents in life are frequent
And most always subsequent
To seeing you
I'm going to be in big trouble for this. It's 4am and I have to be awake at 8. I guess it's kind of late for a school night. Then again it isn't really a school night. Tomorrow is my graduation. Neato. About being done with it, I'm excited, however, about all of the pomp and circumstance and whatnot, well not really that excited. Well, maybe excited but in the negative sense. Anxious. Why God why do I have to sit at the end of a row? It's too much responsibility. I already have too much to think about...like if my tassel is on the correct side or when I am to remove my cap or when I stand or walk or where I walk. Sometimes, if sometimes is possible, I have social anxiety disorder or something that feels like that is described. Part of me worries that I will sleep straight through the graduation ceremony. Another part hopes that I do. I suppose people would be disappointed if I didn't show.
By the time I log on again to check comments the anxiety will likely be a distant memory. Probably. But right now I am sweaty(even though the air is on), my eye is irritated,I can't stop sniffling and I just feel like a bad dude. I guess I just needed somebody to talk to. I could call Donna but the other day I broke my phone cord so calling anyone isn't really an option. (Besides then she'd know that I was still awake; I don't want to get into any trouble.) I was just feeling stressed out and she was totally great, but it was time to say goodnight...and no amount of talking at that point could get me to believe that everything is cool. Maybe I'm just stubborn. It was like she had totally expended all possible "cheer me up" speeches. nothing remained to be spoken. I felt some sort of sad and rushed to say goodnight. So I said it and morosely shut the door and walked as slow as I could into my apartment. I thought about just going over and knocking on her door and saying that I was sorry and that I love her and that yes, I know everything is going to be okay. Still, I just felt the conversation would get nowhere because I still felt stubborn.
So I saved her the aggravation, I guess. I came into my house, got ready for bed and put on So by Peter Gabriel. I made a trade with Jeff tonight and this was what I received. The music carries with it a sort of Simon and Garfunkel quality to it. Like, the innocence and the poetry and what not. Plus, its combined with 80s synthesizer which at least for me creates a sense of optimism. I wanted to listen to the second half but I'm too lazy to see about turning it over. I think I'm going to hit the hay now. Look for me tomorrow, I'll be wearing all black and a baby blue tassel...and some of Jeff's clothes. Well, I have a pair of socks and a tie of his. I have clothes of my own but they were hiding when I looked for them. I need at least three and a half hours of beauty rest...so I better get going. Later.
This coming Friday, the kids from the Baptist College of Florida will be walking across the stage, and finishing their long haul that we identify as higher education. A year ago, I myself made that walk, only to be left with my intentions, ideologies, and ideas of how life was supposed work.
Out of college, money spent.
See no future, pay no rent.
All the money's gone, nowhere to go.
Any jobber got the sack,
Monday morning turning back.
Yellow lorry slow, nowhere to go.
Ironically, I can place myself into those lyrics and it serves as a reminder for me today. I went to college. I got an education. I paid for it (with the help of my parents, the government, and the nice loan people). I graduated with high expectations, only to be left with begging aspirations of finding any job that would hire me. I lived in government housing and didn't have to pay rent (woops, I still live here). And as the song would be sung, I had no where to go.
Now a year later, I find myself very tired, but very grateful for my path. It hit me last night that I was actually doing what I had intended 365 days ago. It took a little longer than I expected, but I praise God none the less for letting me get here. I've still got a long way to go, but I know that it's all worth it. Thank you God for helping me, even when I am unhelpable...
Just the other day, I was watching kids week on Jeopardy. I must admit that I thought these children would be geniuses or something. However, I was shocked as to how well I was playing against them. There were a couple specific topics I didn't know much about. But, for the most part, I was doing good. Then it hit me. These kids are 10, 11, and 12. I am almost 24. They're not even in junior high/middle school. I am a college graduate. They are children playing on a game show. And I am watching this on my day off, playing at home, and this is my entertainment. My life knows no limits to despair...
all it takes is one word
or a train of thought misheard
for me to become suspect
for me to be under arrest
for me to be undressed
for all the world to see
that I got screws lose
and am a danger to society
little red flags go up in your mind
when someone tells you they were bullied in school
and are still miffed about it
what happened to the freedom
not to forgive
or the freedom to judge
I'm free to think what I want of you
you were born not to budge
I'm guilty, but not as charged
you drove my car off the barge
and said I couldn't drive
I never said I would take anyone's life
I can keep it between the lines
besides since when did they care
so much about it anyway?
this place is getting crowded
sacrifices should be made
will I be crucified for having a point
in a world where everything is pointless?
Cue Chariots of Fire Theme I can't believe the news today: Blender magazine listed Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da as one of the 50 worst hits ever. This is so sad and disgusting that I'm not even giving the hyper-link. I don't want to make you cry and vomit.
They dissed Sounds of Silence too, but of course that makes more sense to me.
The title today is in reference to the fact that I am rounding the last lap of this college experience. Somebody pass me some Gatorade. On that note it has been really stinkin' hot today. Heat waves are a thing of the past, I'm having a heat stroke.
This afternoon I attended my last class session. Actually, I considered skipping but then decided to go for the sentiment of the occasion. I thought the conclusion of the day's class would feel more momentous, but alas I suppose I won't feel that til I waltz out of the last final.
And when I do that I've decided I want to have a discman and play loudly enough for everyone to hear, "School's Out!" by Alice Cooper. Jeff, can I borrow your copy of that? Please, big brother?
At Honor's Day Wednesday I showed up right on time dressed like I do every other day. I invited my dad and he said, "Well, yeah. I'd go if you're being honored." Of course I wasn't going to be. I think we all knew that. Still, sitting there in blue jeans, some random shirt and flip flops I worried "what if they call my name?" I didn't want them to and considered it nice when they didn't.
When Dr. Kinchen walked by at the end I could tell he didn't know I was up next week. I could just tell by the way he said "hi" in the exact same tone and manner as always. And that's fine you know, just that, He shoulda known better. Afterall, he is my president.
She may be a cheeseburger, but paradise she is not. This may sound vain but I had to write the post when I thought of that title. Does anyone else ever find themselves doing that: Sitting here with the "Edit Your Blog" screen open, asking if you've anything worth writing and something that is, in your opinion, a cool title smacks you in the forehead and you insist the post must follow? Oh. So I guess it's just me.
Today for the first time I felt I was being pulled for and believed in by my professors. This afternoon I took some work by a professor whom I've never really known how to read. He seemed glad to me see me. He said with a smile, "You got something for me?" Why, of course I did. I'm too intimidated just to stop by and hang out. I'd told him I would soon return with more and he said, "great, great". I said confidently, "I'll be back" and left his office.
I felt, surely, his attitude was reflective of the others. It's like he was expecting, not merely hoping, that I'd be coming by. It's like I've been in this marathon (a popular analogy for college) and everyone knows that I have been lapped at least once by everyone else in the race. Actually, no one has seen or heard tale of me for awhile. It seems they might assume I pulled a "rabbit" and took a nap on the side of the road. It seems they'd think, "maybe next time." But the booming message seems to be, "we were expecting you." I am encouraged. And other prospective graduates, do not fret. If I am encouraged you should be also. You are being rooted for as well.
Since that last post I have only obliterated one item, the case study. However, I've been simultaneously working on four other assignments. Well, that is all for now dudes and dude-esses. I will see you when my to-do list is shorter.
So, I was in town yesterday. I was sitting at a stop light waiting to make a right turn on red. When to my unexpected surprise I noticed a guy enthusiastically singing in his car next to me. Even though the traffic was clear, I paused for a second to watch him rock his way through the song. The only thing I could help to think, and I actually said this out loud, "Is that what I look like when I sing in my car?"
Baby's First Words Apparently, you are all in awe of me and the brilliance and bravery conveyed in the last post. Sit still. Everything is taken care of. When I wrote that I felt sure your only hope was to be optimistic for me. Now, on this bright new day, I re-evaluate the scenario. I realize that you know I can pull that to-do list off based on past experience. That's right. Time and again, I pull through for you. Dilligence, persistence and organizational skills may be skills I am lacking in here and there but let's not forget the rest of my street creds. And potential employers, et cetera ought to recognize.
This is in the bag. I've gotten the maximum number of hours to complete all assignments worked out. That magic number is 27. It could take more because my estimations are frail and human but I don't expect. So, I came up with this idea to stay up for the next 27 hours and get as much of it as possible complete. More than likely I will pass out; I've been running on 2 hours sleep a night recently. Since that last post I got the devotional, the debate and something minor finished. Put your smoker's jacket on and prepare to be impressed.
Friday afternoon I was sure, for a change, that I'd get a lot done during the weekend. It's Sunday and ,with barely anything to show for these three days, I'm mad at myself again. This seems to be the cycle every week and it is getting easier to hate myself. It's not that I get nothing done. It's not that I am totally irresponsible. Or it could be. Perspective is hard to come by right now. My goal here is to write an intensely honest post. I expect one of two things will happen as a result: If you care you may find yourself worried that I'm not going to pull through; If you are indifferent then maybe you can laugh at my folly. I have friends who can do both.
I'm not writing this to be assured. That's certainly not what I'm looking for. And if any of you have kept up with my writing understand this isn't the typical end of the semester blog of despair. I suppose it might seem so. I must insist that it isn't. Yes, we're down to the wire. Yes, I'm near despair. It'll take a hail mary touchdown and a sudden death victory to pull this one off. I'm not writing this to be slapped around or called an idiot. I call myself enough names. I've challenged myself to a playground duel afterschool on many occassion. Quite literally. I don't need your help to realize my state. It's not the worst ever. It certainly isn't the worst boat I've ever been in or the worst bed I never made. At the current time I just felt the need to take a lot of words to say something minor. And it took me a lot of words to say all of that.
This is blabber mostly. Of course, I'm not telling you anything new. Yawn. I find myself here at 1:14 after another unaccomplished weekend. The scenario is often similar to last week which played out something like this: I was proud of Donna for how relentlessly she had labored on a paper even sacrificing sleep. It was Friday and I thought she deserved some change of pace as an award. So I had this sweet idea of taking her to the matinee. We saw Envy and believe it or not, we liked it. Then, we realize some free rental coupon would expire the next day if we didn't use them. However, they were not in the car. So we then returned from Dothan, retrieved the coupon and went back. Between the drive and dinner and picking out the movies we got home after midnight.
So, at this point we felt we'd be disappointed if we didn't go ahead and watch one of the movies. Afterall, Friday was pretty much shot. At this point in time, I rationalize that Saturday will be the "big day". I think Jeff ended up coming over and we all hung out a little after the movie ended. I walk home between two and three. We had decided it would be better if we got plenty of sleep before getting started on everything. Upon waking up I call Donna and we then move to get lunch. After we finish eating we sit here in my house. Donna worked furiously like a little ant. I tried to give the appearance of work and mumbled despairingly painful remarks like "I hate myself" and "I hate my life." All the while I know I don't mean it. These are just the smartest expressions I can come up to express what I get to feeling is an unredeemable situation. I got another awful migraine and in my angst laid on my couch. Two hours later I awoke to find still none of my work had finished itself.
Then, as it usually goes, I get up and sit at the table. I'm quieter now than before. Now I realize my inability to say how I feel in constructive ways. Over the next few hours I manage to get merely a fraction of what I needed to get done. And then it's Sunday. Church takes half the day. The weekend is basically shot. I look forward in anticipation, aggravation and hope, longing for Monday to yield more product. I have a long to-do list, but it will all come together. We have to remember I've managed to pull bigger oxes out of bigger ditches. I know based on all of that that I got this one. I've made the joke that it would be unlike the true spirit of my college career if I didn't wait until the last week to get most everything in. It's a funny thought and it's even made me smile, but I wouldn't do this for the sake of humor.
For your bewilderment I present to you, My To-Do List:
2 Teaching Practicums
7 Doctrine and Prayer Projects(these take me about 30 minutes each)
Case Study/Case Study Analysis
2 Framework Interviews
Finish Extra Credit Book Review
New Tolerance Book Review
Same-Sex Marriage Debate(over tomorrow)
Love Your God...Book Review
These classes are in order of priority. Heck, I don't even have to have the last class. Not that that makes a huge difference. Anyway, I'll have most of this done by this upcoming Friday and all of it in by the following Monday, the first day of finals week. And if that weren't incredible enough I'll actually be proud of my work. Top that. Perhaps it seems I'm soon to eat my words or put my foot in my mouth...but who knows they might taste good.
At work, we have this joke that all the employees participate in. If the patients are "acting a fool" and all the units are in an uproar, we say that it must be a full moon. I guess for us this explains why the kids are showing out in numerous amounts. Maybe it's just because we can't control them. But, I mean, if all of them are off task, it must be something. I chuckle with hesitancy whenever I see a full moon. I'm starting to become superstitious...