It would be nice to blackout

I would like nothing more than to be able to go to sleep right this second. But, I will have to wait awhile. I have spent most of yesterday and today moving into my new apartment and out of my old one. I'm supposed to be out by...today. Donna has been the most help. Today my parents came down with the truck. In preparation I got all the furniture moved outside.

Something about that house makes me breakout all over. On top of that, it was way too hot. I've never sweat so much in my entire life. Then it rained. Nothing was damaged. However, it was disappointing. I'd rather be sweaty than soggy. The goal, of course, was to recieve the $75 deposit back in full. We rushed to get everthing spic-n-span before 5 o'clock. At 1:30 my parents arrived. I had wanted them to wait until 2, but parents never listen. Besides, since it was raining, their early arrival worked out nicely.

We hauled two truckloads of furniture over to Donna's new apartment. Then we hauled a truckload over to my new place of residence, Graceland Manor #704. It was good to see my folks. I told my dad that speed bumps and mud are two things that just suck. I suggested the world would be a better place if we could do away with them. By 3:00 they were on the way home with only a mini-fridge, a chair and an area rug.

The job still wasn't finished but we were. Well, it felt that way. With only hope to hold us, we drove up to the housing authority with one wish in mind. I asked if it would be alright if I turned the key in tomorrow. They okayed that. Donna and I made a motion to take a nice long break, to get a late lunch and a change of clothes. Meanwhile, we fell to sleep watching a movie.

I felt even sicker when I woke up. I wouldn't be surprised if it were pneumonia. I'm supposed to be writing a letter of recommendation for a friend. I was stuck on the fourth sentence for the longest time. I want nothing more than to go to sleep. I regret that I have spent little to no time in prayer and bible study this week. I also regret that I'm behind in my summer class. It's over Thursday. No more classes til August. But all I can think about is how miserable I feel...nevermind everthing I have to do.

Hey Good Lookin’, Whatcha Got Cookin’?

Ahoy lads and gals, how it be? I am dandy here. I had a delightful lunch with a good friend named Stephanie Herres (pronounced Harris) at the local Chili’s. We talked a lot about some good and bad things that were happening around us. She is actually one of the few friends that I can go a whole month without talking to, but then whenever we start talking again, we can pick up right where we left off. That’s a great quality to have in a friend. Much like Justin, I am getting rather frustrated with being a bum. I had a job interview at Life Management Center last week and I have an [annoyingly rescheduled] interview next Tuesday at Sunland Center. Please pray for my about my job situation. Last night, I wrote a song for the first time in a while. It was fun, hope you like. It’s about a friend…


1,185 Days & Counting

(Verse 1)

I pulled out an old calendar
Marred & marked with days
Old things brought back
Some good & bad memories
This is one about you:

I counted old days
Recalling several things
Happy & sad times
Working through some pain
Don’t be scared, everything is okay

(Chorus)

I knew it could never work
I knew it would never be
When you said to me
It’s too hot in Florida

But, now I can move on
To put the past behind me
Believing everything—
When you said,
“This could be the only way”

(Verse 2)

It’s been so long
To say anything
Clinging to substance
Waiting for the right time
Waiting to enhance this

Bleeding faster than the rest
Foretelling the future
Of failures & hopes
No success stories here
Just an account of all the fears

(Chorus)

I knew it could never work
I knew it would never be
When you said to me
It’s too hot in Florida

But, now I can move on
To put the past behind me
Believing everything—
When you said,
“This could be the only way”

(Verse 3)

I think a lot
Mostly talking to myself
Rewording past conversations
Reworking the envy
Just trying to figure out everything

But, I cannot help it
These thoughts still remain
When I think of the northeast
Or think about past memories
You are there the most

(Chorus)

I knew it could never work
I knew it would never be
When you said to me
It’s too hot in Florida

But, now I can move on
To put the past behind me
Believing everything—
When you said,
“This could be the only way”

(Bridge)

I think I’m done
I think I’ve lost
I think I should just lay low
But, I’m reminded of you wherever I go

Seeing red cars
Seeing puppy dogs
Seeing my life for all it’s worth
Seeing someone who helped bring it forth

(Chorus)

I knew it could never work
I knew it would never be
When you said to me
It’s too hot in Florida

But, now I can move on
To put the past behind me
Believing everything—
When you said,
“This could be the only way”

The Birthday Song

This was my revelation last night. But, due to Blogger being very queer, I didn’t get to post it until today:

Normally, I would avoid such a blatant post. However, since I usually participate in anything unabashed, I will inform you—twenty-three years ago today, June 25th, at 7:56 A.M. I was born. I used to love my birthday. Yet, today has been just another day of aggravations. With that being said, I believe I have come across my first birthday that represents very little and basically indicates that I am just getting older. I think I am officially an adult now. It had to happen sometime I guess...

"And that's about the time she walked away from me. Nobody likes you when your 23. And you still act like you're in freshman year. What the hell is wrong with me? My friends say I should act my age. What's my age again?" Blink 182, What’s My Age Again, from the album Enema of The State.

Always The Bridesmaid, Never The Bride

Actually, this is the first time I have ever been a groomsmen and I’m not really ready to be the groom, so my title for this post is mostly cliche. Sorry folks for all of the delays in an actual post here. Last time we left off, Chase and I had traveled to Dothan and we both had some food, some good talks, but we got home far too late. I went to bed that Thursday night/Friday morning at 3:00 A.M.. I then got up at 5:45 A.M. to drive to Jacksonville because my former roommate of two years, Michael “Milks” Miller was getting married to Leah Keen. So, I set off on my four hour long drive and made it there by 11:30 A.M. After an hour of just sitting around and meeting some of the random family members that were there, we set out for our “bachelor party”. We took Michael to Chuck E Cheese’s. It was a very reminiscent and almost boyishly fun-filled time. Mike’s parents paid for it and we got a lot of tokens for games. Pizza, games, and a mouse that fronts a band, what more could a single guy on his last night of freedom want?

After the invigorating times we spent together in a room for two years, an afternoon at a childhood-favorite establishment, Mike and I went to the mall one last time together, both single, to pick up my tuxedo. I tried it on and it fit well. And, I looked good. I am in no way boasting. I was just so excited that this tux made me look good because I usually don’t like my appearance, especially in dress clothes, and more particularly in a ninety dollar rental (however, I got mine free). We then headed back to the hotel and then off to the wedding rehearsal. We arrived late after getting stuck in 5 o’clock Jacksonville traffic. We were met at the church by some of the families of both bride and groom, the Presbyterian minister, the other groomsmen, bridesmaids and the bride herself. The rehearsal went well, except the minister was very snippy and got on my nerves quite a bit. He just didn’t seem very pleasant and from some things Mike told me about his own personal encounters with the minister, he won’t be one of my top picks to marry me. The rehearsal dinner was an English theme and we listen to the Beatles’ songs be preformed by an orchestra (on CD). Afterward, Andy Hunter (a BCFer and usher), Mike, and myself played with the drums, bass guitar, and piano and just had an amateur jam session, with each of us having little knowledge of the instruments we were playing, but plenty of songs in our repertoire to sing happily along to. Back at the hotel, Mike, his Mom, Dad, cousin, and I just hung out chatting. I was supposed to stay at Andy’s house, but when I drove over there, the door was locked. I knocked on the door for about five minutes, but there was no answer. So, I hurriedly drove back over to the motel and knocked on The Miller’s door. Luckily, Jonathan (Michael’s brother) was still up and let me sleep on their floor. We had an early 5:00 A.M. wake up call in the particular annoyance of the fire alarm going off. We went outside for about thirty minutes and then allowed to go back inside. Needless to say, much like my previous amount, the night’s sleep wasn’t all that long, refreshing, or reenergizing.

June 21st was the big day and we started it off with a nice continental breakfast. We got all dolled up and headed over to the church for pictures around noon. After an hour and 30 minutes pictures, we were starting to get ready. I had to walk Leah’s Grandma and Grandpa down the aisle, then head over to the side door to walk in with the other groomsmen and Milks. The wedding was really nice, however it was long. It lasted at least one hour, but probably a few minutes longer. Which was fine, except my feet killed me and it was hot underneath the very bright lights. Plus, I was behind Earl (Mike’s cousin), who is taller than me, so I didn’t seem much of the wedding. The wedding went off without a problem and Michael and Leah Miller were hitched. After another hour of pictures we were ready to be announced into the reception. I actually got to sit down while the pictures were going on. Besides Melodye Brown (another BCFer and the only other non-related member of the wedding party), I just sat there for most of it. While in the reception, Jonathan (best man and Mike’s brother), Earl (groomsmen and Mike’s cousin), and I started messing up the car they were going to drive off in. We put packing popcorn in all of the floorboards and filled it up to the tops of the seats (front and back). We wrote all over the windows, stuck some bullet-shattering glass decals on the windows. Also, we filled it with balloons with special messages on them. Jonathan stuck a whistle on the exhaust pipe so when he accelerated, a loud pitched whistle noise came out. Tied Mountain Dew cans to the back and put toilet paper on the windows. It was done up pretty well, if I do say so. Chase and Donna also came and got to witness them drive off. After we cleaned up the church, I headed to dinner with my adopted parents, the Millers, for the evening. Later that night, Michael’s cousins and I just played Jeopardy on Nintendo 64. I woke up Sunday morning and drove into Melbourne. This is so long, so I’m going to go for now. However, if I had to pick a song, to sing and play at my wedding for my whomever my bride is, it would be The Long And Winding Road by The Beatles. Here’s why:
"The wild and windy night that the rain washed away, has left a pool of tears crying for the day. Why leave me standing here, let me know the way. Many times I’ve been alone and many times I’ve cried, Anyway you’ll never know the many ways I’ve tried, but Still they lead me back to the long and winding road."

The Pen is Mightier than The Sword
I feel like writing. A voice in my head told me I should. Was it God? The Devil? Jeff? Justin? I don't know. Acting on what this voice tells me is probably not advisable. I should probably do a background check and pray for discernment, but I'm lazy and a tad bit spiritually unhealthy.

Besides, what harm has writing ever caused? "Oh, but what about Mein Kampf or the Communist Manifesto or 'professional wrestling'?", you ask. Well, contrary to what the public educational system would have you believe, every word from every one of these and others like them were first spoken into a microcassette recorder, only later being transcribed to print. A minor detail? I think not.

Second only to the heart, the voice is most decietful. Spoken word poetry has grown a lot in popularity, but that doesn't make it right. The human voice carries with it all the evils of the world. Just hearing it is sin.

Anyway, back to my point. Direct brain-to-print writing has never really hurt anyone. So, onward I write. It's okay to act on this impulse. It don't matter if its mindless garble or conviction of the greatest depth, its healthy just to tap those keys. It even helps others...and the more dribble the better.

Maybe I should re-think this post, maybe not. Either way, who cares, just reading words becoming sentences in their magical way, will sweep anyone right up into the arms of inspiration.

The List

Two songs have been in my head consistently for the past month:

"Theme from the Dukes of Hazzard (Good ol' Boys)" by Waylon Jennings
"The Man in Me" by Bob Dylan off the album, New Morning

These are both sure fire placements in my not-yet created top 100 list.

The first is a fun filled tune that seems to me to be about depravity.

Just two good old boys, never meaning no harm
Beats all you never saw, been in trouble with the law
Since the day they was born

Straightening the curves, flattening the hills
Well someday the mountain might get 'em but the law never will

Making their way, the only way they know how
That's just a little bit more than the law will allow

Just two good ol' boys, wouldn't change if they could
They're fighting the system like two modern-day Robin Hoods

The second, I first heard on "The Big Lebowski". From there I downloaded it, still somehow unaware that it was Dylan. Now I've learned and well, I believe it is my favorite tune of his.

Of course, I said that before of "Most of the Time" off of Oh Mercy!, which I first discovered from "High Fidelity". Eh, Who knows? The trials I go through to create these lists.

So I'm not sure if I'll get New Morning or the double LP Blonde on Blonde as my next Dylan pick, but I'll be getting another soon.

Also, I'm going to start trying to get into Waylon a bit more. Everyone loves the outlaw.

For a good time download these fun family favorites.

I'm going with Jeffrey G. to Dothan now. Peace out.

My Favorite Arminian

Sometime back, I was reading online that June is the month that John Wesley was born. Now, for the life of me, I cannot remember what day that is. So, just because he and I share the same birth month, I thought it would be nice to learn a little bit about my favorite anti-Calvinite and one of the founders of the Methodist church. Apparently, Christian History Magazine agrees:

1738 John Wesley visits Herrnhut

1739 Whitefield begins preaching outdoors, makes first trip to America

1740 Methodists break with Moravians in London, begin meeting at the Foundery

1741 Calvinist/Arminian debate between Whitefield and John Wesley; Thomas Maxfield, a layman, begins preaching without permission

1743 John Wesley issues An Earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion, an apologetic for Methodism

1744 First Methodist annual conference

While I cannot stand Christianity Today (the publisher), I love Christian History Magazine. I think it is relevant and helpful to know the history of the church fathers. And, most importantly, it is vital to remember what they taught—the hope through salvation that Jesus Christ brought. No matter what branch of theology Whitefield and Wesley subscribed to, they presented the gospel to anyone who would listen, much like we ought to be doing everyday of our lives. We can learn a lot about the future, by just looking at the past.

With Love From Apartment # 8

Too Lazy To Write

Notable Music Moment:

Did you realize that the majority of artists, bands, and entertainers in the world release more work, art, and/or product posthumously, than during their actual careers?

What I Want You To Know

I wanted to write tonight
A brilliant masterpiece ensued
However, at the sight of you I became unglued

Pity, the shame of the year
Fleeting lips and floating hopes
My art worked a new ear, but now it just mopes

The cold slivering feeling of being alone
Embraced by an already calloused heart
Telling stories over the phone seemed smart

You look away at any given moment
Just to see my eyes scurry on
We owned the story, but now it’s gone

That property right was just sold
Beckoning for reasoning we knew
If we were bread, it’s old, moldy, and fungus has just grew

My only joy to leave is what I chase
Taking the chance to stay goodbye
At this pace, I’ll never again say hi