My mom and I were talking on the way back from Sioux City today, and the topic of a lost love came up. Let me tell you what I can remember--and what my mother reminded me.
It all started when I was young. I lost this love when I was only 11.
I was your average nerdy 5th grader. I was taking two classes at the middle school, doing some light teaching/tutoring, and still doing 3 weeks of work in my 5th grade classes in an afternoon.
For some reason, my school thought I wasn't being challenged enough, and that I should skip 6th grade. As some of you may know already, I skipped.
I was already going to be going to a new school, but now I was also away from the friends I had grown up with. Add to that the new glasses--my eyes finally went bad enough that same summer--and you get an outcast. I went from having tons of friends to almost none. As you might imagine, that made me stop loving school--I never lost my love of learning, but I started to hate school. I stopped trying. I went from all A's to a C average almost overnight--with anything higher than a B being rare.
It was also around this time that I started getting depressed. I know I had started having suicidal thoughts by 8th grade--at the latest--and they've never fully gone away.
Even just thinking about the turn my life took then makes me want to cry. But at the same time, if things had gone differently, I probably never would have met the people I've met here in Ames, and quite possibly have never become a Christian. Looking back, it's a good trade-off, but at the time, if I could have changed it, I would have done so.
30 December 2009
23 December 2009
The truth about Santa
Since it is nearly Christmas, there will be a lot of talk about Santa over the next couple of days. Now many of you have probably heard that Santa Claus doesn't exist. If you are first hearing this lie here, I'm sorry. The truth is, Santa is a Time Lord (for those that don't know, a Time Lord is from the TV series Doctor Who). This easily accounts for all of his abilities, as I will elucidate below.
Why is he portrayed differently in different areas? His TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimensions In Space) has a fully functioning chameleon circuit, which allows it to change shape to fit in with its surroundings. The difference in his physical appearance (not his traveling craft) is due to the fact that Time Lords can regenerate when they are about to die--12 regenerations, or 13 different bodies throughout their lifetime. However, the Master--a particularly evil Time Lord--was granted another cycle of regenerations, so Santa could have been gifted likewise.
How can he visit all houses in one night? A TARDIS is a time machine. 'Nuff said.
How can he fit all the presents into his vehicle (sleigh, kayak, etc.)? A TARDIS is bigger on the inside than on the outside, but then again, it's a time machine, so he wouldn't have to fit everything in there if he didn't want to.
How can he know what everybody wants/who's been good? Again, time machine. He's at every mall where Santa impersonators show up--he's not actually them, and they are not his helpers--he just hangs out nearby.
So let's all stop lying to children. Santa is real, and he is a Time Lord.
Why is he portrayed differently in different areas? His TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimensions In Space) has a fully functioning chameleon circuit, which allows it to change shape to fit in with its surroundings. The difference in his physical appearance (not his traveling craft) is due to the fact that Time Lords can regenerate when they are about to die--12 regenerations, or 13 different bodies throughout their lifetime. However, the Master--a particularly evil Time Lord--was granted another cycle of regenerations, so Santa could have been gifted likewise.
How can he visit all houses in one night? A TARDIS is a time machine. 'Nuff said.
How can he fit all the presents into his vehicle (sleigh, kayak, etc.)? A TARDIS is bigger on the inside than on the outside, but then again, it's a time machine, so he wouldn't have to fit everything in there if he didn't want to.
How can he know what everybody wants/who's been good? Again, time machine. He's at every mall where Santa impersonators show up--he's not actually them, and they are not his helpers--he just hangs out nearby.
So let's all stop lying to children. Santa is real, and he is a Time Lord.
Conglomeration of short posts
I've currently got a few short posts bouncing around in my head, so I'll just throw them all together into one.
The past few nights, I've noticed that the crows have left the area around the lake. What am I supposed to do with my evenings if I can't scare them off with my laser pointer? I feel like my life has lost a lot of meaning since my archenemy is now gone.
I think my left thumb is broken--most likely a stress fracture. It hurts when I put pressure on it, and I first injured it during the ISU-Ok State game. Yes, I injured it on November 7, the same day I got chemical burns from the leaky blower. That was a great day to be me. Wikipedia says it may take months to heal, so I guess I'll have to take it easy on my thumb.
DISCLAIMER: I am not advocating bike theft. Bike theft is illegal. I'm only talking probabilities.
There are a lot of bikes left on campus. I wonder why people just leave them. Do they think that no one will try to steal it? I guess since it's small-town Iowa, it's unlikely, but still. Some of these bikes have the 4-digit combination locks--only 10,000 possible combinations. However, it's unlikely that the combination will be all even or all odd numbers, so that eliminates 1,250--now down to 8,750. It's also unlikely that the combination will follow the pattern of ABBA or ABAB, which account for 190 combinations--100 in each pattern, but 10 of these follow both--but half of these will be either all even or all odd, so take off 95--down to 8,655 likely combinations. Another unlikely combination pattern is a simple step-progression, or 1234, 2345, 9876, 8765, etc. Since 0 could be high or low in this, that means there are 16 combinations that follow that pattern--now only 8,639 likely combinations. It's also unlikely to have the same number twice in a row--the first two, middle two, or last two. There are nearly 3,000 (I know, I'm no longer exact--don't worry, the world's still spinning) that have the same digit twice in a row, but 375 are all even or all odd, 45 of the rest are ABBA, and therefore already eliminated, so let's call it 2,500. That brings us down to around 6,100 likely combinations. Assuming 5 seconds for each tested likely combination, that means only 8 and a half hours to test them all. Even if I'm wrong about the likely combinations, and it's one of the unlikely ones, it still doesn't take 14 hours to test all 10,000 possible--and it shouldn't even take the full 5 seconds to test each one. Do these bike owners really think that no one has that much time on their hands, or do they just not care about their bikes? On a related note, I wonder what the university will do at the end of the year if some of these bikes are still there.
The past few nights, I've noticed that the crows have left the area around the lake. What am I supposed to do with my evenings if I can't scare them off with my laser pointer? I feel like my life has lost a lot of meaning since my archenemy is now gone.
I think my left thumb is broken--most likely a stress fracture. It hurts when I put pressure on it, and I first injured it during the ISU-Ok State game. Yes, I injured it on November 7, the same day I got chemical burns from the leaky blower. That was a great day to be me. Wikipedia says it may take months to heal, so I guess I'll have to take it easy on my thumb.
DISCLAIMER: I am not advocating bike theft. Bike theft is illegal. I'm only talking probabilities.
There are a lot of bikes left on campus. I wonder why people just leave them. Do they think that no one will try to steal it? I guess since it's small-town Iowa, it's unlikely, but still. Some of these bikes have the 4-digit combination locks--only 10,000 possible combinations. However, it's unlikely that the combination will be all even or all odd numbers, so that eliminates 1,250--now down to 8,750. It's also unlikely that the combination will follow the pattern of ABBA or ABAB, which account for 190 combinations--100 in each pattern, but 10 of these follow both--but half of these will be either all even or all odd, so take off 95--down to 8,655 likely combinations. Another unlikely combination pattern is a simple step-progression, or 1234, 2345, 9876, 8765, etc. Since 0 could be high or low in this, that means there are 16 combinations that follow that pattern--now only 8,639 likely combinations. It's also unlikely to have the same number twice in a row--the first two, middle two, or last two. There are nearly 3,000 (I know, I'm no longer exact--don't worry, the world's still spinning) that have the same digit twice in a row, but 375 are all even or all odd, 45 of the rest are ABBA, and therefore already eliminated, so let's call it 2,500. That brings us down to around 6,100 likely combinations. Assuming 5 seconds for each tested likely combination, that means only 8 and a half hours to test them all. Even if I'm wrong about the likely combinations, and it's one of the unlikely ones, it still doesn't take 14 hours to test all 10,000 possible--and it shouldn't even take the full 5 seconds to test each one. Do these bike owners really think that no one has that much time on their hands, or do they just not care about their bikes? On a related note, I wonder what the university will do at the end of the year if some of these bikes are still there.
21 December 2009
Life is a Rollercoaster
This morning started off like any other Monday morning: shower, start laundry, run off to check email. On my way back from checking email, I found out I had lost one of my gloves. Was it the left one, which has holes in the knuckles? No. It was the right one.
Naturally, I was feeling a little upset about this--not to mention my hands were cold--when I got back to my building. I checked my mail, and inside was an envelope with "payment inside" on it. Yay! My shoveling money! I went upstairs to my apartment and started to open it. RIIIIP. The envelope tore, and so did the check--right down the middle. My language quickly took a turn for the worse--I said a four-letter word that rhymes with "fit" and starts with "sh" five or six times within a minute--and I kicked my laundry basket.
A little later, I realized that I had put on my "It's all good" t-shirt, and immediately started accusing it of mocking me.
I left to go to the bank to see if they'd still cash the check--and assuming they wouldn't--and buy groceries. When I got to the teller, he asked how I was doing. I said "Not too well, I had a little accident with this check." He said it was no problem--I'm not sure how I kept from jumping up and down, but I did--and deposited it into my account.
I continued on and bought groceries, but I didn't buy gloves there because all they had were yellow--and then bought blue ones after I had returned and put groceries away. So now my winter gear matches even less than it did before--blue gloves, red hat, brown jacket instead of red gloves, red hat, and brown jacket. Take that, fashion!
Naturally, I was feeling a little upset about this--not to mention my hands were cold--when I got back to my building. I checked my mail, and inside was an envelope with "payment inside" on it. Yay! My shoveling money! I went upstairs to my apartment and started to open it. RIIIIP. The envelope tore, and so did the check--right down the middle. My language quickly took a turn for the worse--I said a four-letter word that rhymes with "fit" and starts with "sh" five or six times within a minute--and I kicked my laundry basket.
A little later, I realized that I had put on my "It's all good" t-shirt, and immediately started accusing it of mocking me.
I left to go to the bank to see if they'd still cash the check--and assuming they wouldn't--and buy groceries. When I got to the teller, he asked how I was doing. I said "Not too well, I had a little accident with this check." He said it was no problem--I'm not sure how I kept from jumping up and down, but I did--and deposited it into my account.
I continued on and bought groceries, but I didn't buy gloves there because all they had were yellow--and then bought blue ones after I had returned and put groceries away. So now my winter gear matches even less than it did before--blue gloves, red hat, brown jacket instead of red gloves, red hat, and brown jacket. Take that, fashion!
17 December 2009
My life according to the Beatles
I'm actually following a fad. I almost never do that. Whatever.
Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"
Pick your Artist: the Beatles
Are you a male or a female?
This Boy
Describe yourself:
Tell Me What You See
How do you feel?
I'm So Tired
Describe where you currently live:
The Fool On The Hill
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Across The Universe
Your favorite form of transportation is:
Old Brown Shoe
Your best friend is:
Some Other Guy
You and your best friends are:
Something
What's the weather like?
Here Comes The Sun
Favorite time of day:
Good Night
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?
In My Life
What is life to you?
A Beginning
Your relationship:
I've Just Seen A Face
Your fear:
Blackbird
What is the best advice you have to give?
Slow Down
Thought for the Day:
Christmas Time (Is Here Again)
How I would like to die:
When I'm Sixty-Four
My soul's present condition:
Getting Better
My motto:
I Will
Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"
Pick your Artist: the Beatles
Are you a male or a female?
This Boy
Describe yourself:
Tell Me What You See
How do you feel?
I'm So Tired
Describe where you currently live:
The Fool On The Hill
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Across The Universe
Your favorite form of transportation is:
Old Brown Shoe
Your best friend is:
Some Other Guy
You and your best friends are:
Something
What's the weather like?
Here Comes The Sun
Favorite time of day:
Good Night
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?
In My Life
What is life to you?
A Beginning
Your relationship:
I've Just Seen A Face
Your fear:
Blackbird
What is the best advice you have to give?
Slow Down
Thought for the Day:
Christmas Time (Is Here Again)
How I would like to die:
When I'm Sixty-Four
My soul's present condition:
Getting Better
My motto:
I Will
You wouldn't like me when I'm angry
Last night, I was hanging out with some friends. I first went over because there was a new Mythbusters on that night (and with my lack of cable, I am happily forced to watch it with others) but stayed afterward for poker. I stopped caring after I didn't come in last place, so naturally I won--playing for respect, not money.
Anyway, this post is more about the game after the poker. I don't know what it's called, but there's a lot of slapping the table and some people getting very frustrated. I kept turning down the offer to join in, because I'm not aggressive enough for that style of game. Then my friends pointed out that I've changed a lot in the past year and a half--the hair, shaving, the piercings (they forgot to mention the whole God thing).
Me changing to being aggressive again is not a good idea. Let's run through the list of reasons why. My freshman year of college, I had to go into anger management because I broke a window by flipping one of the tables in the den after losing a game of foosball. My freshman year of high school, I picked fights with half a dozen sophomores--and remember, I had skipped 6th grade, so these guys were two years older and a foot taller--just because they'd get in my way in the halls--we got caught by a teacher once, and I got out of being suspended by crying. In 7th grade, I kicked out a window because the other nerds had locked me out of the building--that's right, I was picked on by the nerds. In 5th grade, I slammed a kid's head into a locker because he was in between me and a kid I wanted to fight. I don't really remember much else, but those are some of the "highlights". Still want me to be aggressive?
Anyway, this post is more about the game after the poker. I don't know what it's called, but there's a lot of slapping the table and some people getting very frustrated. I kept turning down the offer to join in, because I'm not aggressive enough for that style of game. Then my friends pointed out that I've changed a lot in the past year and a half--the hair, shaving, the piercings (they forgot to mention the whole God thing).
Me changing to being aggressive again is not a good idea. Let's run through the list of reasons why. My freshman year of college, I had to go into anger management because I broke a window by flipping one of the tables in the den after losing a game of foosball. My freshman year of high school, I picked fights with half a dozen sophomores--and remember, I had skipped 6th grade, so these guys were two years older and a foot taller--just because they'd get in my way in the halls--we got caught by a teacher once, and I got out of being suspended by crying. In 7th grade, I kicked out a window because the other nerds had locked me out of the building--that's right, I was picked on by the nerds. In 5th grade, I slammed a kid's head into a locker because he was in between me and a kid I wanted to fight. I don't really remember much else, but those are some of the "highlights". Still want me to be aggressive?
09 December 2009
You'll need people of intelligence on this sort of mission.....quest......thing
More and more in the past few weeks my mind has been turning to thoughts of Iowa City. I still have the mindset that I'd rather go anywhere than there, but it seems that that's exactly where God wants me to go. I've looked into transferring to U of I, but it doesn't seem like I can manage that--I don't have the GPA to make the transfer, according to their rules--so I'd have to go with a community college in the area. I'll just have to keep my faith in God, and let him show me which doors are open to me.
On a completely unrelated note, I want to ask something. How creepy (on a scale of 1 to 10) is this scenario: A man stares out his window, eating an apple, whilst not wearing pants. I'd really like to know.....but this is purely hypothetical, of course. I'd never do such a thing.....Hey look! I'm over there! *runs away*
On a completely unrelated note, I want to ask something. How creepy (on a scale of 1 to 10) is this scenario: A man stares out his window, eating an apple, whilst not wearing pants. I'd really like to know.....but this is purely hypothetical, of course. I'd never do such a thing.....Hey look! I'm over there! *runs away*
07 December 2009
Under the cover of darkness
It's now just after 2pm, and I've been up for 11 hours now. Why, you ask? There was a job that needed doing in the wee small hours of the morning.
Last night, I got a call saying the job I had agreed to do might be happening around 4:00, and asking if I was available. I said yes, and was told that I would be rewarded handsomely.
I showered at 8:45 last night and went to bed at 9, so I would be well-rested when the time came.
I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing at 3:09 this morning, and I answered it to hear my contact's voice. He asked if I could meet him outside my place in 10-15 minutes, and I said yes. I quickly dressed, and went outside at 3:18. I waited for my contact, watching the cars go by with suspicion. After 5 minutes, my contact arrived in a dark-colored SUV. We drove on, picking up another accomplice on the way to the job. My contact made many calls, making sure the rest of the team was organized and knew how best to approach the area.
We arrived at 3:40, which was early, so we did a quick sweep of the area, trying to figure out how easy the job would be. We then waited in the vehicle while the others arrived slowly. It was nearly 4:00 when the leader of our team arrived, and he gave us our final instructions "Don't hurry. Make it look good, that's what we're being paid for." He then went to unlock the door. He had it open in a flash, and we started to divvy up what was inside.
The job took two and a half hours to complete, even though there were about half a dozen of us. But we finally finished shoveling all the sidewalks in that gated community.
After finishing, my contact dropped me off at the MU for MMP, after which I showered, changed, and did laundry. While reading the Daily and waiting for my clothes to be done in the washer, I saw that my horoscope read "You will do more today than you have done in the last week." That made me laugh, even though I was nearly too tired to even lift the paper.
Last night, I got a call saying the job I had agreed to do might be happening around 4:00, and asking if I was available. I said yes, and was told that I would be rewarded handsomely.
I showered at 8:45 last night and went to bed at 9, so I would be well-rested when the time came.
I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing at 3:09 this morning, and I answered it to hear my contact's voice. He asked if I could meet him outside my place in 10-15 minutes, and I said yes. I quickly dressed, and went outside at 3:18. I waited for my contact, watching the cars go by with suspicion. After 5 minutes, my contact arrived in a dark-colored SUV. We drove on, picking up another accomplice on the way to the job. My contact made many calls, making sure the rest of the team was organized and knew how best to approach the area.
We arrived at 3:40, which was early, so we did a quick sweep of the area, trying to figure out how easy the job would be. We then waited in the vehicle while the others arrived slowly. It was nearly 4:00 when the leader of our team arrived, and he gave us our final instructions "Don't hurry. Make it look good, that's what we're being paid for." He then went to unlock the door. He had it open in a flash, and we started to divvy up what was inside.
The job took two and a half hours to complete, even though there were about half a dozen of us. But we finally finished shoveling all the sidewalks in that gated community.
After finishing, my contact dropped me off at the MU for MMP, after which I showered, changed, and did laundry. While reading the Daily and waiting for my clothes to be done in the washer, I saw that my horoscope read "You will do more today than you have done in the last week." That made me laugh, even though I was nearly too tired to even lift the paper.
05 December 2009
Adventures in storytelling
Last night at Anthem, I was asked (more like told) to start writing a book, and that I should have the first chapter done by Spring Break--it was asked for as a wedding present by the very same person that got me to start writing this blog.
I don't think it's going to happen. Firstly, I'm not sure what to write about:
And that just tells of my scatterbrained way of approaching a book. That doesn't even begin to say how short a time three months is. The author I'm currently reading took over 10 years to complete his most famous work, and then spent the rest of his life correcting mistakes--some made by him, many others made by printers--and even after he died, his son worked on correcting mistakes, and from what I have read, it still might not be completely right, even over 50 years later.
Also, if a chapter were to be written in three months, it would most likely have to be completely rewritten before the end. Again referencing the author I'm reading now, his most famous work is a sequel to an earlier, nearly equally famous work, and by the time he completed the sequel, he realized that he had to go back and rework the earlier work, since things didn't line up quite right. How much more so with the manner that I figure I would be writing in! The first chapter started would likely be the last chapter finished, and the last chapter started the first chapter finished. No, I feel strongly disinclined to acquiesce to that request.
I don't think it's going to happen. Firstly, I'm not sure what to write about:
- Do I go partial biography? I'm only 8589 days old (or about 23 and a half years for those that don't keep track of that sort of thing) and I can't remember a whole lot--I've almost completely blocked out high school.....and middle school......and most of elementery school...... so there wouldn't be very much to write in that line, and what there would be is many crazy stories, some of which are told in full on this blog, some are merely alluded to, and some are overlooked completely
- What about fiction? Well, I've been thinking about writing a fiction book for a few years now, but nothing's really concrete, not to mention that a lot of those ideas were heavily based on the RPGs I used to spend entire weekends playing, so there may be copyright issues there.
And that just tells of my scatterbrained way of approaching a book. That doesn't even begin to say how short a time three months is. The author I'm currently reading took over 10 years to complete his most famous work, and then spent the rest of his life correcting mistakes--some made by him, many others made by printers--and even after he died, his son worked on correcting mistakes, and from what I have read, it still might not be completely right, even over 50 years later.
Also, if a chapter were to be written in three months, it would most likely have to be completely rewritten before the end. Again referencing the author I'm reading now, his most famous work is a sequel to an earlier, nearly equally famous work, and by the time he completed the sequel, he realized that he had to go back and rework the earlier work, since things didn't line up quite right. How much more so with the manner that I figure I would be writing in! The first chapter started would likely be the last chapter finished, and the last chapter started the first chapter finished. No, I feel strongly disinclined to acquiesce to that request.
01 December 2009
Last night ended in a fun way
I was lying in the middle of Lincoln Way, using my keys to cut the duct tape of my legs at around 11:30pm. I know, you're wondering "What did you do this time, --insert insulting word here--?" Okay, I'll answer the question, just because you asked so nicely.
It started off after Monday Movie Madness. We had watched Elf--which was why there were three girls running around in the revolving door of the MU this morning after the Spiritual Intensity Week gathering--and some of us were gathered around, watching a YouTube video. When it ended, I turned around to see someone with duct tape, ready to tape something. I soon found out he had planned to tape my legs together, so I just let him.
Some people wanted to cut the tape before I walked home, but I wanted to at least try to make it with the tape still there. I made it down the stairs without falling--but I did come close a few times. When I got outside, I started to see "normal" people. The first two just stared at me, probably wondering why I was smiling while my legs were taped together. The third paused in her phone conversation to ask if I wanted any help, but I declined. The fourth person to pass asked me if I wanted some scissors, but I said no and continued grinning like an idiot and hopping down the road.
At the first street light, I pressed the button to cross Lincoln Way, because I didn't think I could wait for the traffic to thin out enough for me to feel safe going for it. When I got the Walk sign, I started hopping across. I got to the island in the middle.....and faceplanted on it. I rolled onto my back and tried to tear the tape, but it was too bunched up, so I grabbed my keys and cut it.
After that, I got up and finished walking home, laughing the whole way. The ball of tape is now in my apartment, sitting with the roadkill I found on the way to Connection Group one night.
It started off after Monday Movie Madness. We had watched Elf--which was why there were three girls running around in the revolving door of the MU this morning after the Spiritual Intensity Week gathering--and some of us were gathered around, watching a YouTube video. When it ended, I turned around to see someone with duct tape, ready to tape something. I soon found out he had planned to tape my legs together, so I just let him.
Some people wanted to cut the tape before I walked home, but I wanted to at least try to make it with the tape still there. I made it down the stairs without falling--but I did come close a few times. When I got outside, I started to see "normal" people. The first two just stared at me, probably wondering why I was smiling while my legs were taped together. The third paused in her phone conversation to ask if I wanted any help, but I declined. The fourth person to pass asked me if I wanted some scissors, but I said no and continued grinning like an idiot and hopping down the road.
At the first street light, I pressed the button to cross Lincoln Way, because I didn't think I could wait for the traffic to thin out enough for me to feel safe going for it. When I got the Walk sign, I started hopping across. I got to the island in the middle.....and faceplanted on it. I rolled onto my back and tried to tear the tape, but it was too bunched up, so I grabbed my keys and cut it.
After that, I got up and finished walking home, laughing the whole way. The ball of tape is now in my apartment, sitting with the roadkill I found on the way to Connection Group one night.
26 November 2009
I can be a real jerk sometimes
....and last night was one of those times. I was sitting in my apartment around 7:00, watching the special features discs for the Lord of the Rings extended edition (all the behind-the-scenes stuff) and I happened to look out the window. Across the street were a couple of people reading some papers and exchanging this large bouquet of flowers. I quickly discerned that they were filming something, but I had no idea what.
Whatever it was, I felt the need to mess with them, so I got out my laser pointer. That last sentence makes it sound simple, but with the way I am, getting out my laser pointer is a somewhat long process. First, I must take it out of the bubble wrap sleeve it was shipped in--how I haven't popped it all by this point is beyond me--then remove the white outer box. Then I have to open the silver-colored box, which is a lot like the box that a necklace would come in. Inside this box is the laser pointer itself, with a place to put the batteries, so they'll last longer, which is how I store it--this means I then have to unscrew the cap on the laser pointer, put in the batteries, and screw the little cap back on.
Now that I had my laser pointer ready, I waited until they were facing away from me, and aimed in front of them. I only had it on for a second or two at a time, then would turn it off before they turned around. Every time they'd look back, I'd laugh to myself, knowing they couldn't see me. After a while, they began to look right back in my direction, so I think they knew where I was--however, by this point they were joined by four or five other people, so it was too much fun for me to care that they knew.
At one point, they disappeared, but the bouquet of flowers was still visible, so I didn't think they had gone far. After about 10 minutes of waiting for them to reappear, I just put away the laser pointer--fully reversing the process mentioned above--and went back to watching the behind-the-scenes of Lord of the Rings. I looked back out later, only to see that they were back, so I got the laser pointer out again, but by the time I got it ready, I was bored with the idea, so I just watched what they were doing.
I have no idea what it was they were filming, but they had a manic energy that is only found in either freshmen (or high schoolers) or last-semester seniors. Whatever it was, it looked really funny without any kind of sound. I may have to look out my window more often.
Whatever it was, I felt the need to mess with them, so I got out my laser pointer. That last sentence makes it sound simple, but with the way I am, getting out my laser pointer is a somewhat long process. First, I must take it out of the bubble wrap sleeve it was shipped in--how I haven't popped it all by this point is beyond me--then remove the white outer box. Then I have to open the silver-colored box, which is a lot like the box that a necklace would come in. Inside this box is the laser pointer itself, with a place to put the batteries, so they'll last longer, which is how I store it--this means I then have to unscrew the cap on the laser pointer, put in the batteries, and screw the little cap back on.
Now that I had my laser pointer ready, I waited until they were facing away from me, and aimed in front of them. I only had it on for a second or two at a time, then would turn it off before they turned around. Every time they'd look back, I'd laugh to myself, knowing they couldn't see me. After a while, they began to look right back in my direction, so I think they knew where I was--however, by this point they were joined by four or five other people, so it was too much fun for me to care that they knew.
At one point, they disappeared, but the bouquet of flowers was still visible, so I didn't think they had gone far. After about 10 minutes of waiting for them to reappear, I just put away the laser pointer--fully reversing the process mentioned above--and went back to watching the behind-the-scenes of Lord of the Rings. I looked back out later, only to see that they were back, so I got the laser pointer out again, but by the time I got it ready, I was bored with the idea, so I just watched what they were doing.
I have no idea what it was they were filming, but they had a manic energy that is only found in either freshmen (or high schoolers) or last-semester seniors. Whatever it was, it looked really funny without any kind of sound. I may have to look out my window more often.
20 November 2009
You want me to go where? Seriously? You're kidding, right?
Last night at Salt, I was convicted by the message about doing God's will. I've been hiding from His will, because it scares me. During the closing worship, I was praying and the phrase "wherever you want me" came up.
Minutes later, there was an announcement. Salt is forming a kind of "Salt Company East" at the U of I. My immediate reaction was "No. Not happening. Anywhere but there" so of course, I was one of about a dozen people there talking and praying about the possibility of going until 11:30. I didn't want to go because I was raised wearing cardinal and gold, and was taught not to associate with those wearing black and gold unless I had to.
This morning, I woke up, still thinking that I'd rather go anywhere but there. "Send me to a place without indoor plumbing, or electricity. Just not there." When I took my shower, there was no hot water. I'm not going to wait for the power outage. As of ~8:45 this morning, I'm in. We'll see if that's really what He wants for me.
Minutes later, there was an announcement. Salt is forming a kind of "Salt Company East" at the U of I. My immediate reaction was "No. Not happening. Anywhere but there" so of course, I was one of about a dozen people there talking and praying about the possibility of going until 11:30. I didn't want to go because I was raised wearing cardinal and gold, and was taught not to associate with those wearing black and gold unless I had to.
This morning, I woke up, still thinking that I'd rather go anywhere but there. "Send me to a place without indoor plumbing, or electricity. Just not there." When I took my shower, there was no hot water. I'm not going to wait for the power outage. As of ~8:45 this morning, I'm in. We'll see if that's really what He wants for me.
19 November 2009
Twilight
So, for those of you who have been reading this blog since the start, you know I'm (mildly) obsessed with vampires--for the rest of you, check the last paragraph in this post and all of this post. Anyway, I realized today that the new Twilight movie is coming out tonight. I only know this because the Daily devoted most of its opinion pages to it. I refuse to patronize that piece of trash they call a vampire/romance movie--please excuse the anger, this just gets me worked up.
I don't like that they claim there are vampires in it. The characters in that movie are further from vampires than I am. They can be out in the sun with no problems--they should die instantly--and they can choose whether or not to drink blood--which would cause a real vampire to die in a matter of days, because vampires cannot manufacture red blood cells. And what's this I've heard about the main "vampire" not wanting to bite his girlfriend because he loves her? So, instead of biting her once so she lives forever with him as a vampire, he lets her continue being mortal, watching her age and eventually has to watch her die? That doesn't sound like love to me. Love is never wanting to be parted from someone, not being afraid to do one small thing for them. So yeah, I even have a problem with the "romance" angle of the movie/novels. He doesn't really love her, he's just pretending to. Although, since I've made the case that he's not a real vampire anyway, he can't make her live forever by biting her, so that point is moot.
Why do Twilight and shows/movies/novels like it work me up as much as they do? Let me put it this way. What Twilight does with vampires would be like having zombies stop in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and have a tea party with the remaining humans; or like Frankenstein's creature--Frankenstein is the man, not the creation, however, my opinion is that Frankenstein is the real monster of the story, but that's a completely different rant--building a bonfire on the beach, playing guitar, and singing Kumbaya while teenagers dance around and sing with him; or like Godzilla traveling to Tokyo to do some sightseeing and take pictures, without destroying a single building. The "vampires" in Twilight and the other garbage like it are completely unvampirelike and I'm tired of people referring to the characters as vampires.
Anyway, for those of you who actually like that stuff, I still like you, I just don't understand how you can like it. Don't try to explain it to me, though--you won't get anywhere.
I think it's time to go back to my place and have some vittles--my stomach's telling me it's way past time to eat.
I don't like that they claim there are vampires in it. The characters in that movie are further from vampires than I am. They can be out in the sun with no problems--they should die instantly--and they can choose whether or not to drink blood--which would cause a real vampire to die in a matter of days, because vampires cannot manufacture red blood cells. And what's this I've heard about the main "vampire" not wanting to bite his girlfriend because he loves her? So, instead of biting her once so she lives forever with him as a vampire, he lets her continue being mortal, watching her age and eventually has to watch her die? That doesn't sound like love to me. Love is never wanting to be parted from someone, not being afraid to do one small thing for them. So yeah, I even have a problem with the "romance" angle of the movie/novels. He doesn't really love her, he's just pretending to. Although, since I've made the case that he's not a real vampire anyway, he can't make her live forever by biting her, so that point is moot.
Why do Twilight and shows/movies/novels like it work me up as much as they do? Let me put it this way. What Twilight does with vampires would be like having zombies stop in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and have a tea party with the remaining humans; or like Frankenstein's creature--Frankenstein is the man, not the creation, however, my opinion is that Frankenstein is the real monster of the story, but that's a completely different rant--building a bonfire on the beach, playing guitar, and singing Kumbaya while teenagers dance around and sing with him; or like Godzilla traveling to Tokyo to do some sightseeing and take pictures, without destroying a single building. The "vampires" in Twilight and the other garbage like it are completely unvampirelike and I'm tired of people referring to the characters as vampires.
Anyway, for those of you who actually like that stuff, I still like you, I just don't understand how you can like it. Don't try to explain it to me, though--you won't get anywhere.
I think it's time to go back to my place and have some vittles--my stomach's telling me it's way past time to eat.
11 November 2009
Nerdy post
Okay, this post is going to be about something that's been on my mind for the past couple days--I'm not sure why, it just has been. I apologize in advance for anyone left scratching their heads after this, and I'll do my best to make this understandable.
I've been thinking a lot about the matter-antimatter disparity in our universe. I'm wondering how the "Ask an Atheist" group out by the library would answer it--so if you see them, let me know.
Before the full explanation, I'll define a few phrases that I'll be using:
All energy: The sum total of mass and energy in the universe (which, according to Einstein's most famous equation, are the same)
Other uses of the word energy: the pre-Einstein definition of energy--no mass involved
Mass: The total of matter and antimatter in the universe (or highly-concentrated energy)
Now to the explanation of the problem:
Our whole universe was in a hot, dense state
Then nearly fourteen billion years ago, expansion started. Wait....
Sorry, I couldn't resist. Anyway, before the horrendous space kablooie--what Calvin in Calvin & Hobbes calls the big bang--all energy was contained in a small space. Then came the big bang, and all energy rushed out in all directions.
After a short time, energy began to condense into mass. Through conservation of baryon number (the total number of quarks: +1; and anti-quarks: -1) this can only happen by creating a quark/anti-quark pair, which should mutually annihilate and go back to energy. Somehow--as someone with a strong science background, this word makes me want to tear my hair out--conservation of baryon number ceased to be observed, and 1 out of 30,000,000 times--according to what I've read--only a quark was formed.
There have been no experiments to date that have shown how baryon number can change, and the only theories that can be tested with technology available now only cause more questions than answers. All other theories involve ultrahigh-energy reactions, which our particle accelerators are too weak to test.
I know my answer to this problem, and the answer of most of the people that read this: God isn't constricted by physical laws. However, I am interested in hearing an explanation that doesn't mention a higher power.
Now if you don't mind, I need to buy some food, and a new belt--the extra length after it goes around my waist is enough to reach my knees.
I've been thinking a lot about the matter-antimatter disparity in our universe. I'm wondering how the "Ask an Atheist" group out by the library would answer it--so if you see them, let me know.
Before the full explanation, I'll define a few phrases that I'll be using:
All energy: The sum total of mass and energy in the universe (which, according to Einstein's most famous equation, are the same)
Other uses of the word energy: the pre-Einstein definition of energy--no mass involved
Mass: The total of matter and antimatter in the universe (or highly-concentrated energy)
Now to the explanation of the problem:
Our whole universe was in a hot, dense state
Then nearly fourteen billion years ago, expansion started. Wait....
Sorry, I couldn't resist. Anyway, before the horrendous space kablooie--what Calvin in Calvin & Hobbes calls the big bang--all energy was contained in a small space. Then came the big bang, and all energy rushed out in all directions.
After a short time, energy began to condense into mass. Through conservation of baryon number (the total number of quarks: +1; and anti-quarks: -1) this can only happen by creating a quark/anti-quark pair, which should mutually annihilate and go back to energy. Somehow--as someone with a strong science background, this word makes me want to tear my hair out--conservation of baryon number ceased to be observed, and 1 out of 30,000,000 times--according to what I've read--only a quark was formed.
There have been no experiments to date that have shown how baryon number can change, and the only theories that can be tested with technology available now only cause more questions than answers. All other theories involve ultrahigh-energy reactions, which our particle accelerators are too weak to test.
I know my answer to this problem, and the answer of most of the people that read this: God isn't constricted by physical laws. However, I am interested in hearing an explanation that doesn't mention a higher power.
Now if you don't mind, I need to buy some food, and a new belt--the extra length after it goes around my waist is enough to reach my knees.
09 November 2009
Riddle....and an apology
First the riddle. How can a man put on clean clothes in the morning after his shower, get no closer to gasoline than riding in the front seat of a minivan, and have his jeans smell like gas when he takes them off to sleep at night?
Give up? No? Too bad. I'm giving you the answer anyway. The gas has soaked into his skin. I've taken 3 showers since Stadium Cleanup, but it doesn't stop the smell.
My blower had a leak which wasn't stopped until I had made my way the length of the stadium (and running back) three or four times, because I didn't know where it was leaking. This left a large stain on the back of my shirt, and my pants. A little while after the leak was stopped, my back started hurting, about belt-high, on the left side (near where the leak was). I didn't think about it at the time, but last night, after realizing I still smelled like gas, I checked the mirror. There were chemical burns right where the pain was. This spot is also where the source of the gas smell is, so I can only come to the conclusion that the gas dissolved some of my skin, and has absorbed into what's left.
So now to the apology. For anybody that gets stuck around me before the smell fades (or before I find a way to get rid of it--going to buy some charcoal, which should work) I'm sorry for the gas smell. You can be sure that it's making me feel a lot worse than it's making you feel.
Give up? No? Too bad. I'm giving you the answer anyway. The gas has soaked into his skin. I've taken 3 showers since Stadium Cleanup, but it doesn't stop the smell.
My blower had a leak which wasn't stopped until I had made my way the length of the stadium (and running back) three or four times, because I didn't know where it was leaking. This left a large stain on the back of my shirt, and my pants. A little while after the leak was stopped, my back started hurting, about belt-high, on the left side (near where the leak was). I didn't think about it at the time, but last night, after realizing I still smelled like gas, I checked the mirror. There were chemical burns right where the pain was. This spot is also where the source of the gas smell is, so I can only come to the conclusion that the gas dissolved some of my skin, and has absorbed into what's left.
So now to the apology. For anybody that gets stuck around me before the smell fades (or before I find a way to get rid of it--going to buy some charcoal, which should work) I'm sorry for the gas smell. You can be sure that it's making me feel a lot worse than it's making you feel.
07 November 2009
Pizza has turned evil
Okay, this actually is not from the journal, like the other three posts today. This is events from the first day back from being unplugged, and this morning.
I decided to order a pizza for myself, since I've now lost 50 pounds. I know, it's counterproductive, since I'm still 40 pounds from my weight goal, but I wanted pizza.
Pizza is one of those foods where once I've started, I have a hard time putting it away. I kept going back to the box every 45 minutes or so, until I had eaten 3/4 of the pizza. About an hour after my last slice of the night, my body decided to tell me it didn't like pizza anymore. I started having sharp pains in my stomach, and spent the evening on my futon, clutching my abdomen.
The only explanation I can think of is that during my weight loss, I reduced my dairy intake, and my mild problem digesting lactose (you didn't want to be in the same room as me after I had a lot of dairy) has become an intolerance. I can still consume small amounts, but too much and I'm lying down in pain.
Anyway, this morning, I went to get a glass of milk, and just the smell of the pizza brought back the pain--it's like my body didn't want me to forget the intense pain from last night. I didn't want that to keep going for long, so I went ahead and finished off the pizza before coming out here to write all these posts, in the hope that the pizza smell will dissipate faster, and it won't hurt me to open my fridge anymore.
Speaking of the pains, they're starting up again. I guess one glass of milk and two slices of pizza is too much lactose. Ow.
I decided to order a pizza for myself, since I've now lost 50 pounds. I know, it's counterproductive, since I'm still 40 pounds from my weight goal, but I wanted pizza.
Pizza is one of those foods where once I've started, I have a hard time putting it away. I kept going back to the box every 45 minutes or so, until I had eaten 3/4 of the pizza. About an hour after my last slice of the night, my body decided to tell me it didn't like pizza anymore. I started having sharp pains in my stomach, and spent the evening on my futon, clutching my abdomen.
The only explanation I can think of is that during my weight loss, I reduced my dairy intake, and my mild problem digesting lactose (you didn't want to be in the same room as me after I had a lot of dairy) has become an intolerance. I can still consume small amounts, but too much and I'm lying down in pain.
Anyway, this morning, I went to get a glass of milk, and just the smell of the pizza brought back the pain--it's like my body didn't want me to forget the intense pain from last night. I didn't want that to keep going for long, so I went ahead and finished off the pizza before coming out here to write all these posts, in the hope that the pizza smell will dissipate faster, and it won't hurt me to open my fridge anymore.
Speaking of the pains, they're starting up again. I guess one glass of milk and two slices of pizza is too much lactose. Ow.
My legs hurt
On Tuesday, I tore a loose piece off of my jeans. This led to me exclaiming "Yarr. I am stronger than denim."
Tuesday night is connection group, so I went to that. On the way out, I fell down the stairs. Falling down stairs is such a common occurrence with me that I've learned how to fall properly to minimize injury. Unfortunately, the foot of the stairs was about two feet away from the wall, so I had to worry about hitting my head, and neglected to control my extremities. I got up limping, and headed out to the car of the guy who offered to drive me home.
When I got back to my place, I rolled up my pant legs to check the damage. Both knees were beginning to form bruises, and there was a golf ball-sized patch of skin missing from just below my right knee--almost down to the point of bleeding. After a little while, I noticed that my leg was swelling near the skinned portion, and began to laugh. I'm not sure how I can laugh when I'm hurt--I can't seem to laugh when anyone else is hurt, just me--maybe I'm just insane.
Shortly after, I was walking around my apartment, to keep my knees from seizing up, and realized that most of the pain from walking was from my jeans brushing up against the injuries, so I removed them.
I checked my jeans, and sure enough, there was my skin on the inside. The jeans were completely unharmed. Maybe I'm not stronger than denim.
Tuesday night is connection group, so I went to that. On the way out, I fell down the stairs. Falling down stairs is such a common occurrence with me that I've learned how to fall properly to minimize injury. Unfortunately, the foot of the stairs was about two feet away from the wall, so I had to worry about hitting my head, and neglected to control my extremities. I got up limping, and headed out to the car of the guy who offered to drive me home.
When I got back to my place, I rolled up my pant legs to check the damage. Both knees were beginning to form bruises, and there was a golf ball-sized patch of skin missing from just below my right knee--almost down to the point of bleeding. After a little while, I noticed that my leg was swelling near the skinned portion, and began to laugh. I'm not sure how I can laugh when I'm hurt--I can't seem to laugh when anyone else is hurt, just me--maybe I'm just insane.
Shortly after, I was walking around my apartment, to keep my knees from seizing up, and realized that most of the pain from walking was from my jeans brushing up against the injuries, so I removed them.
I checked my jeans, and sure enough, there was my skin on the inside. The jeans were completely unharmed. Maybe I'm not stronger than denim.
The long walk
I got a little bored on the evening of the 30th, so I decided to go for a walk. I asked myself where I wanted to go--see, I'm talking to myself again, it's not healthy--and I responded with "To the great white north" even though I was sure I'd collapse long before I got to Canada. Anyway, I got near the corner of Union & Welch, and standing under the streetlight was a man. I looked away for a couple seconds, and he was gone--no running footsteps, no cars came, and he didn't have a bike or anything--so I can only assume he was a ghost. I kept walking, and when I got near Freddy, a train was passing over the bridge, so I got to walk under a train. I continued north, and as I was passing UV, one of the guys from my connection group came out and asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere. Since I was just walking to walk, I declined.
I got near Schlitter, and the sidewalk started to lead me away from the street. I began to get a little scared as it led me further and further away from the street, even when I told it not to. I ran back to the street and walked along in the grass. I turned right at the next corner, so I was now walking just north of Schlitter. After a little while, I had no idea where I was, and movie quotes started popping into my head. "Aye, we're good and lost now." followed closely by "All I know is there's a beep on this thing, and I'm trying to get us there." I realized that those quotes come from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End and Armageddon, and wondered about the omen.
A little while later, I knew where I was. I was right near the apartment of that nice, young couple that lives out by the mall. Their lights were off--I found out later they were in Colorado--so I decided to walk around the mall a little, then turned around to walk home.
When I got back to Schlitter, my legs were starting to get tired, but I was almost back home, so I kept walking. I took a different route back through campus, so I wouldn't risk seeing the ghost at Union & Welch again, and saw the Medieval Fighting Club on central campus.
When I got back to my place--two and a half hours after I left--I sang "Into the West" (the song that plays during the first part of the closing credits of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King), had some Pop-Tarts, read a little in my Bible, and went to bed.
I got near Schlitter, and the sidewalk started to lead me away from the street. I began to get a little scared as it led me further and further away from the street, even when I told it not to. I ran back to the street and walked along in the grass. I turned right at the next corner, so I was now walking just north of Schlitter. After a little while, I had no idea where I was, and movie quotes started popping into my head. "Aye, we're good and lost now." followed closely by "All I know is there's a beep on this thing, and I'm trying to get us there." I realized that those quotes come from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End and Armageddon, and wondered about the omen.
A little while later, I knew where I was. I was right near the apartment of that nice, young couple that lives out by the mall. Their lights were off--I found out later they were in Colorado--so I decided to walk around the mall a little, then turned around to walk home.
When I got back to Schlitter, my legs were starting to get tired, but I was almost back home, so I kept walking. I took a different route back through campus, so I wouldn't risk seeing the ghost at Union & Welch again, and saw the Medieval Fighting Club on central campus.
When I got back to my place--two and a half hours after I left--I sang "Into the West" (the song that plays during the first part of the closing credits of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King), had some Pop-Tarts, read a little in my Bible, and went to bed.
Dreams are weird
Okay, this post is all about a weird dream I had. It was during my second nap of the day on the 30th, and it went a little something like this:
I was trying to get to a computer lab on the second floor of some building (I didn't recognize what building it was) and I was traveling on the outside of the building, trying to get to a door. This required hopping over railings and walking on ledges that were about four inches wide. I got to the door that I was going to enter the building by, and I realized I would be breaking the "Unplugged" fast. As I'm straddling a railing, wondering whether or not to go ahead anyway, a van pulls up beneath me. It looked like a nice, ordinary van, and some people shouted up to me, asking if I wanted a ride back to ?? (I don't remember where). I said sure, and started to walk down the wide, concrete spiral to the ground.
When I got down to ground level, the van looked different. It kind of looked like a pickup, with a really high bed--I couldn't see over the top. I walked over, climbed onto the back bumper, and saw that the inside of the bed was contoured like a hot tub, but there was no water. I slid in on my stomach, head first.
Then I noticed a few people were talking--the two girls that went to India this past summer and the guy with the dreads that works at Cafe Milo were the only three I recognized--because apparently, there wasn't enough room in the back for everyone. The guy with the dreads volunteered (reluctantly) to ride in the cab. Everybody seemed very sad about this turn of events, so I was about to offer to ride in the cab when I woke up.
-----------
That's my dream. I have no idea what any of it means, so if anyone's got some insight, please let me know.
I was trying to get to a computer lab on the second floor of some building (I didn't recognize what building it was) and I was traveling on the outside of the building, trying to get to a door. This required hopping over railings and walking on ledges that were about four inches wide. I got to the door that I was going to enter the building by, and I realized I would be breaking the "Unplugged" fast. As I'm straddling a railing, wondering whether or not to go ahead anyway, a van pulls up beneath me. It looked like a nice, ordinary van, and some people shouted up to me, asking if I wanted a ride back to ?? (I don't remember where). I said sure, and started to walk down the wide, concrete spiral to the ground.
When I got down to ground level, the van looked different. It kind of looked like a pickup, with a really high bed--I couldn't see over the top. I walked over, climbed onto the back bumper, and saw that the inside of the bed was contoured like a hot tub, but there was no water. I slid in on my stomach, head first.
Then I noticed a few people were talking--the two girls that went to India this past summer and the guy with the dreads that works at Cafe Milo were the only three I recognized--because apparently, there wasn't enough room in the back for everyone. The guy with the dreads volunteered (reluctantly) to ride in the cab. Everybody seemed very sad about this turn of events, so I was about to offer to ride in the cab when I woke up.
-----------
That's my dream. I have no idea what any of it means, so if anyone's got some insight, please let me know.
06 November 2009
It feels weird to be back at a computer....
I've gotten used to putting my thoughts down on paper. Luckily, I haven't forgotten how to type--at least, not completely--in the past week. Anyway, during my "unplugged" phase, I've been keeping a journal. Today's post is just going to be a bunch of excerpts from this journal. The will be in the order they appear in the journal, so it's somewhat chronological. They will also be out of context, and in the original Gibberish. I'm sorry for those of you that don't speak Gibberish, but I don't want to hurt those that do. These excerpts will not be explained, either. Tomorrow, I'll be back and start telling crazy stories that are recorded within the pages. Until those are completed, no one will be allowed to peruse the original manuscript. I'm sorry, I have to be tough sometimes. Here goes:
- MISSED BUS DUE TO BUBBLE WRAP
- fluffy slippers would be awesome
- ended up getting offered a ride back to ?? in a van that had been converted into something that looked like a pickup with a hot tub in the back
- saw ghost at corner of Union + Welch
- realized I had just quoted PotC: At World's End and Armageddon in succession. got worried at the omen
- sang Into the West while writing all this down
- You heard me, the answer to life, the universe and everything away
- My eyes are tinged with gray.
- Maybe there is some good soil in me
- Eyes were back to a happy blue color
- Now am sure God likes to prove to me that I'm wrong.
- Perhaps this should be a regular thing
- Asian beetles don't like Febreeze
- "God is great."
- This has been an interesting week so far.
- Lancelot and Elaine are bullies. someone had to put them in their place
- It's like being a giant hot dog....Mmm. Hot Dog.
- I just have to wait for my shirt to dry before I can put it back on.
- Yarr. I am stronger than denim.
- Stairs were too close to wall, so was unable to concentrate on how to fall properly
- It hurts less to walk without pants than with pants
- some ice packs would be nice
- Going to wear mismatched shoes at Salt
- We're not in decent places
- Is it weird that I'm learning Hebrew from the footnotes as I read the OT?
- Men (without children) who are twenty-...three years old should not use the word "tummy".
- Being normal is just weird
- Mine had my name and "382 days and counting" on it.
- Got stuck at the top of the seesaw with just one person on the other end. I'm not used to that.
30 October 2009
Going "Unplugged"
By the time you read this, I'll have gone "unplugged".
Last night at Salt, I was convicted by the "broken cistern" test. (I can't be happy without) There were so many things I could put in the blank. So, I'm going to spend the next week without them. Here's my half-thought-out plan:
No TV, no music (except the few minutes as my alarm goes off in the morning, waiting for the news, weather and sports), no movies, no internet--except for a few minutes Sunday so I can pay my rent--and no video games. Consequently, most of the time I spend with friends ends up doing one of these things, so I'm also going to withdraw from my friends. I also won't be making phone calls or initiating text conversations (unless I need a ride to Salt or church--I'm not walking all that way). I will receive them, however, so if you want to find me, that will be the only way--unless you manage to physically find me, I'll be spending a lot of time near the lake, on central campus, or in parks. I might end up reading through half the Bible, but that isn't a bad thing.
If I have any really strange thoughts, I'll try to record them on paper, so I can post them here next Friday, but I make no promises.
In a somewhat unrelated move, I'm going to try to trace my train of thought from this morning. I was thinking about how to word this post (I usually "write" the posts in my head before I ever get to a computer) and I thought about being near the lake. It's quite tranquil--until the geese try to hang out on the lake. Then the swans get angry. They chase the geese until the geese get out of the water. Somehow, this led to thinking about pillow fights, including Demetri Martin's pillow fight analysis: man vs. woman, fun; man vs. man, gay; woman vs. woman, awesome; man vs. pillow, crazy; pillow vs. pillow, crazy awesome.
I moved on to getting socks so I could leave my apartment, and started chanting the word "socks" to the tune of "Charge!" and began to wonder how many times I had been dropped on my head as a child (I know of once). Then I thought that near-drownings and other near-asphyxiations might have contributed, and I remembered that I once nearly choked to death on a LifeSaver. The irony was not lost on me.
Shortly after, I remembered that I once slammed my head in a car door. To this day, I still don't know how I pulled that off, or how I managed to then walk a straight line past the vice principal and into middle school like nothing had happened.
Hopefully that was enough crazy to get you through a week without posting. I'll be back Friday morning, probably with a lot to say. This should be an interesting week.
Last night at Salt, I was convicted by the "broken cistern" test. (I can't be happy without
No TV, no music (except the few minutes as my alarm goes off in the morning, waiting for the news, weather and sports), no movies, no internet--except for a few minutes Sunday so I can pay my rent--and no video games. Consequently, most of the time I spend with friends ends up doing one of these things, so I'm also going to withdraw from my friends. I also won't be making phone calls or initiating text conversations (unless I need a ride to Salt or church--I'm not walking all that way). I will receive them, however, so if you want to find me, that will be the only way--unless you manage to physically find me, I'll be spending a lot of time near the lake, on central campus, or in parks. I might end up reading through half the Bible, but that isn't a bad thing.
If I have any really strange thoughts, I'll try to record them on paper, so I can post them here next Friday, but I make no promises.
In a somewhat unrelated move, I'm going to try to trace my train of thought from this morning. I was thinking about how to word this post (I usually "write" the posts in my head before I ever get to a computer) and I thought about being near the lake. It's quite tranquil--until the geese try to hang out on the lake. Then the swans get angry. They chase the geese until the geese get out of the water. Somehow, this led to thinking about pillow fights, including Demetri Martin's pillow fight analysis: man vs. woman, fun; man vs. man, gay; woman vs. woman, awesome; man vs. pillow, crazy; pillow vs. pillow, crazy awesome.
I moved on to getting socks so I could leave my apartment, and started chanting the word "socks" to the tune of "Charge!" and began to wonder how many times I had been dropped on my head as a child (I know of once). Then I thought that near-drownings and other near-asphyxiations might have contributed, and I remembered that I once nearly choked to death on a LifeSaver. The irony was not lost on me.
Shortly after, I remembered that I once slammed my head in a car door. To this day, I still don't know how I pulled that off, or how I managed to then walk a straight line past the vice principal and into middle school like nothing had happened.
Hopefully that was enough crazy to get you through a week without posting. I'll be back Friday morning, probably with a lot to say. This should be an interesting week.
27 October 2009
In awe
Yesterday, I was walking down Lincoln Way, talking to myself--this is a very common occurrence, talking to myself--about why there's a downfall in viewership of hockey--I did have a conversation with others about the same topic just before this, so it's not completely random. I figure it's a number of factors: the lockout in 2004-05, lack of TV coverage, and most importantly, the great evil the NHL has made out of fights--let's face it, some people watch hockey just for the fights, just like some people watch NASCAR just for the crashes (and I can see no other reason to watch NASCAR, but crashes aren't enough for me to watch it). Besides, if we're worried about the "role-model" value, why isn't there a moratorium on boxing, MMA, professional "wrestling", etc?
I could go on like this for ages, but that's not what this post is about. As I was walking, someone felt the need to lean out of the car he was riding in and yell "fag" at me. My first reaction was to judge him an idiot--why else would he randomly shout that at people walking outside? I don't know how our Lord could handle being persecuted.
Shortly after that, feelings of paranoia swept in. Had this guy read this post? Had someone else told him, or was this just a cruel person, yelling insults at random people he happened to come across? I veered into a mild depression for a few minutes--all because of one person yelling one word. I don't know how Christ put up with all the hatred that raged around him.
I could go on like this for ages, but that's not what this post is about. As I was walking, someone felt the need to lean out of the car he was riding in and yell "fag" at me. My first reaction was to judge him an idiot--why else would he randomly shout that at people walking outside? I don't know how our Lord could handle being persecuted.
Shortly after that, feelings of paranoia swept in. Had this guy read this post? Had someone else told him, or was this just a cruel person, yelling insults at random people he happened to come across? I veered into a mild depression for a few minutes--all because of one person yelling one word. I don't know how Christ put up with all the hatred that raged around him.
22 October 2009
Tonight, Unite!
I know, I've gone almost a week without posting. It's okay, I am still alive. It's just been a little hard getting back to my normal craziness after my last post. For those that haven't been reading the comments on that one, you should.
Anyway, over the weekend, I got an email from Target--I didn't get the job. Naturally, I was feeling down and alone. Taking some advice from the Salt retreat (learn to pray for real, not just flowery praise all the time) I accused God of not caring. Just getting that off my chest made me feel better, and within 5 minutes, my phone rang. It was my dad, wondering how I was doing. After we hung up, I broke down in tears. Sometimes that kind of prayer works--maybe a little too well.
And today, I got a letter in the mail from the company that I rent from. Immediately, I thought it was about the utilities, so I started forming my arguments that I shouldn't have to pay the $25 fee while I was still in the elevator. When I opened it, it was just the last bill they would send me for utilities--for the usage I had just before getting it switched to my name. So my blood pressure returned back to normal pretty quickly.
But hey, later today is Unite Iowa! I'm wondering how they're going to fit all those people into a middle school, but I'm told they have a large auditorium. We'll see.... It starts at 8, but I'm going to get there around 4. It's so great, I just have to make sure there's enough room. Not really, though. Salt's doing sound, and I signed up to be an apprentice sound guy, so I'm helping them set up. I kinda wish I had a lunch box, so I wouldn't have to eat so early. Oh, well. I'm not going to buy one now that I'm in college--unless it's a really cool one.
Anyway, over the weekend, I got an email from Target--I didn't get the job. Naturally, I was feeling down and alone. Taking some advice from the Salt retreat (learn to pray for real, not just flowery praise all the time) I accused God of not caring. Just getting that off my chest made me feel better, and within 5 minutes, my phone rang. It was my dad, wondering how I was doing. After we hung up, I broke down in tears. Sometimes that kind of prayer works--maybe a little too well.
And today, I got a letter in the mail from the company that I rent from. Immediately, I thought it was about the utilities, so I started forming my arguments that I shouldn't have to pay the $25 fee while I was still in the elevator. When I opened it, it was just the last bill they would send me for utilities--for the usage I had just before getting it switched to my name. So my blood pressure returned back to normal pretty quickly.
But hey, later today is Unite Iowa! I'm wondering how they're going to fit all those people into a middle school, but I'm told they have a large auditorium. We'll see.... It starts at 8, but I'm going to get there around 4. It's so great, I just have to make sure there's enough room. Not really, though. Salt's doing sound, and I signed up to be an apprentice sound guy, so I'm helping them set up. I kinda wish I had a lunch box, so I wouldn't have to eat so early. Oh, well. I'm not going to buy one now that I'm in college--unless it's a really cool one.
16 October 2009
Prayer Request
Okay, today I'm going to do something on this blog that I don't like to do. I'm going to mention somebody by name. I think I've only done it in one post before this, so it's kind of a big deal. Anyway, on with the post.
Last night at Salt, a friend of mine--who happens to be a CA and the tall member of a local duo--brought a girl from his floor. I met her back when they were filming their entry for the Den Makeover. Her name is Emily, and she isn't a believer. I was excited that she actually came, after some of the comments she made about Salt when I first met her--I won't go into those here.
During one of the "prayer breaks" during worship, I threw up a quick "God, reach her." prayer. Occasionally during the message, I glanced over, worried that I might see her checking the time. If she was, I didn't see it. When the message ended and the final worship began, she was just sitting down, looking straight ahead. My first thought was "Missed."
After the worship, I went and had this conversation with her. "What'd you think?" "I'm not sure, I'm still processing." I still don't know how I concealed that in my head, the Hallelujah chorus was playing, but I somehow managed to. "Well, I understand..." "Yeah, it's my first time here." "Yeah. My first time, it took 10 days to process, so I know what you're saying." We talked for a little longer, and went our separate ways.
The prayer request is this: Pray for Emily. Pray that God softens her heart. I know most of the people reading this were praying the same thing for me about a year ago.
Last night at Salt, a friend of mine--who happens to be a CA and the tall member of a local duo--brought a girl from his floor. I met her back when they were filming their entry for the Den Makeover. Her name is Emily, and she isn't a believer. I was excited that she actually came, after some of the comments she made about Salt when I first met her--I won't go into those here.
During one of the "prayer breaks" during worship, I threw up a quick "God, reach her." prayer. Occasionally during the message, I glanced over, worried that I might see her checking the time. If she was, I didn't see it. When the message ended and the final worship began, she was just sitting down, looking straight ahead. My first thought was "Missed."
After the worship, I went and had this conversation with her. "What'd you think?" "I'm not sure, I'm still processing." I still don't know how I concealed that in my head, the Hallelujah chorus was playing, but I somehow managed to. "Well, I understand..." "Yeah, it's my first time here." "Yeah. My first time, it took 10 days to process, so I know what you're saying." We talked for a little longer, and went our separate ways.
The prayer request is this: Pray for Emily. Pray that God softens her heart. I know most of the people reading this were praying the same thing for me about a year ago.
15 October 2009
Interview
Like I said in the last post, I had a job interview yesterday. I showed up my normal 10 minutes early, and they directed me to the application kiosks to answer a round of questions before people would actually talk to me.
I sat down, moved through the pages for about a minute, when the system would go no further. I picked up the red "help phone" at the desk, and they sent someone over to check. They couldn't figure it out, so they told me to just use the other kiosk. The keyboard on that one wouldn't work. So they called over a second person, and I'm sitting there trying to be nonchalant and somehow succeeding. I made the comment, "I always knew computers hated me, but..." and the guy just laughed and agreed. The second guy couldn't figure out what was wrong, so they just skipped that part and took me into a back room.
Over the next half-hour or so, two guys came in, asking me strange and confusing questions. I think they were trying to melt my brain or something. After the questions, they thanked me for my time, and I did likewise, and said they'd call in 7-10 days. I think I did well, but we'll see.
While I was in Target, I figured I'd get a couple things--a vacuum and a copy of Slumdog Millionaire. I ended up getting Apollo 13 as well. And on the way, I ran into the guy who is sometimes jokingly called "High King Peter", who happened to be there to do some grocery shopping.
I sat down, moved through the pages for about a minute, when the system would go no further. I picked up the red "help phone" at the desk, and they sent someone over to check. They couldn't figure it out, so they told me to just use the other kiosk. The keyboard on that one wouldn't work. So they called over a second person, and I'm sitting there trying to be nonchalant and somehow succeeding. I made the comment, "I always knew computers hated me, but..." and the guy just laughed and agreed. The second guy couldn't figure out what was wrong, so they just skipped that part and took me into a back room.
Over the next half-hour or so, two guys came in, asking me strange and confusing questions. I think they were trying to melt my brain or something. After the questions, they thanked me for my time, and I did likewise, and said they'd call in 7-10 days. I think I did well, but we'll see.
While I was in Target, I figured I'd get a couple things--a vacuum and a copy of Slumdog Millionaire. I ended up getting Apollo 13 as well. And on the way, I ran into the guy who is sometimes jokingly called "High King Peter", who happened to be there to do some grocery shopping.
14 October 2009
Today could be the day
Yesterday, I decided to give in and buy new shoes (the old pair had ceased to be good at even hiding views of my socks) but first I had to go to the bank to transfer some money from savings to checking. I had also decided to buy a pair of dress shoes, because I haven't had a pair for a long time, and I thought it would be good to have some.
When I got to my bank, there was a sign saying that that particular branch was closing, and I'd have to use the one south of Hickory Park after the 30th. "Oh, great. Today's not going well." I thought to myself.
While filling out the little forms to move the money around, my phone rang. It was the "I don't know this number" ring, so I answered immediately. It was a person from Target, wondering if I was still interested in the job as Cart Attendant. I said I was, and we set up an interview for today at 3:30. Good thing I was going out to get some dress shoes. That seems way too coincidental for man to have put it together.
On a completely unrelated note, I started getting a slightly strange idea this morning, possibly because I read "The Prodigal God" by Timothy Keller yesterday. I kinda want to take the basic feeling of "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel and turn it into a worship song. If only I had any musical talent.
Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game, and pretend.
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm.
But all my words come back to me,
In shades of mediocrity,
Like emptiness and harmony,
I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward Bound.
I wish I was
Homeward Bound.
Home, where my thought's escaping.
Home, where my music's playing.
Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me.
Silently for me.
That's the third verse and the chorus. It's almost a worship song as it is.
When I got to my bank, there was a sign saying that that particular branch was closing, and I'd have to use the one south of Hickory Park after the 30th. "Oh, great. Today's not going well." I thought to myself.
While filling out the little forms to move the money around, my phone rang. It was the "I don't know this number" ring, so I answered immediately. It was a person from Target, wondering if I was still interested in the job as Cart Attendant. I said I was, and we set up an interview for today at 3:30. Good thing I was going out to get some dress shoes. That seems way too coincidental for man to have put it together.
On a completely unrelated note, I started getting a slightly strange idea this morning, possibly because I read "The Prodigal God" by Timothy Keller yesterday. I kinda want to take the basic feeling of "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel and turn it into a worship song. If only I had any musical talent.
Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game, and pretend.
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm.
But all my words come back to me,
In shades of mediocrity,
Like emptiness and harmony,
I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward Bound.
I wish I was
Homeward Bound.
Home, where my thought's escaping.
Home, where my music's playing.
Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me.
Silently for me.
That's the third verse and the chorus. It's almost a worship song as it is.
13 October 2009
A great conundrum
I have stumbled upon an enigma that has been plaguing all mankind since the dawn of time--okay, maybe just me, not all mankind....and maybe just since yesterday, not the dawn of time. Why is it, in the VeggieTales fruit snacks, the ones shaped like Madame Blueberry taste like blue raspberry instead of blueberry? The Pa Grape ones taste like grape--that makes sense. It also makes sense that Bob the Tomato, Larry the Cucumber, Laura Carrot, and Junior Asparagus don't taste like their namesakes. Who wants asparagus in their fruit snacks? No one. But Madame Blueberry not tasting like blueberry? Total insanity. I know, I'm a 23-year-old, 250-pound man complaining about the VeggieTales fruit snacks, but that's beside the point--which is still valid. How can I ever feed these to my future kids if I can't answer this question in a way that makes sense to me? They'll be asking the same thing.
So internet public, for the sake of my future kids, please help me solve this riddle. Then maybe I can sleep at night. And don't tell me it's because blue raspberry tastes better than blueberry. That's a lie. Blue raspberry is nasty. Blueberries are amazing. See this post if you don't believe me about blueberries--last paragraph.
So internet public, for the sake of my future kids, please help me solve this riddle. Then maybe I can sleep at night. And don't tell me it's because blue raspberry tastes better than blueberry. That's a lie. Blue raspberry is nasty. Blueberries are amazing. See this post if you don't believe me about blueberries--last paragraph.
12 October 2009
Salt Retreat Factoids
Here are some little factoids that I picked up this weekend at the Salt Retreat:
There's probably more, but I can't remember them right now.
- Some of the people in Salt are getting a little old, so if you don't remind them that they offered to give you a ride, they might forget you--my ride was already out of town when I texted with "Where are you? You're late."
- The fun of tackle football is greatly reduced when someone gets kicked in the face. (She's okay, don't worry)
- God is awesome.
- Before Elijah was THE MAN, he was just a man. Or as Ed Noble put it, "dude became DUDE".
- Eating a heaping plate of bacon will ruin your diet--and make you feel sick.
- God is AWESOME!
- If you get six guys in one vehicle on the way back from a Christian retreat, the conversation can easily turn to poop stories. (By the way, some of these were epic)
- If you put 10 guys in one cabin to sleep, conversations can quickly turn into calling each other women. (Sorry, ladies)
- GOD IS AWESOME!
- Ed Noble is definitely a surfer. Only surfers can use the word "dude" every 5 seconds while talking about Elijah. (See #4 for an example)
- If someone near you starts snoring during a service, it is your duty to poke them until they wake. (possibly not true, but it feels right to me)
- GOD...IS...AWESOME!!!
There's probably more, but I can't remember them right now.
11 October 2009
Salt Company Retreat
DISCLAIMER: This post is going to be very real. It is going to be serious, and it may shock you. If you are looking for my usual humor, skip to the next post. If you want to glimpse a little further into me than I generally feel comfortable letting people see, keep reading.
This past weekend was the Salt Company Fall Retreat, and a lot of things happened, but I'm going to focus on one small (in the length of time, not importance) set of events.
It all happened after Ed Noble finished his third (and final, if you don't count the Q & A) message of the weekend, which was about letting God into your "dark places". During the worship I felt like I was being pushed toward kneeling right where I was. I knelt down, and just felt one of the "dark places" open up. I had kept it shut, fearing that my friends would be weird around me for a while if I told. --THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SKIP TO THE NEXT POST AND AVOID READING WHAT I'M ABOUT TO REVEAL--
In my pre-Christian life, I was so deep in lust that I even fantasized about other men. These thoughts still surface from time to time, so they're not gone, I won't lie and say they are, but I try to push them away now. They started sometime in high school, I'm not sure exactly when. This is partially why I was so upset when Fred Phelps came to my high school graduation to protest because our class president was gay--I identified easily with the class president, even though I had never met him.
I began to feel that God wouldn't let me simply bury it again, and I needed to tell. The tears began to flow down my face from fear more than anything else. After a little while, Ed invited anyone that felt they needed to be prayed for to come down by the stage, and I picked out a nice little spot right in the center. Various Salt leaders came down and prayed over the people on their knees by the stage, and I felt a little more sure that I could reveal that secret--I opened up and shared it in my small group afterward, and of course now it's right here for all to read.
Then Ed started to talk about specific prayers for people to pray with him. The third one hit me hard. He said he felt that there were some of us in the crowd who were being called to do something but it seems too scary--see this post and this post if you don't know what hit me about that. Next he mentioned that we all knew someone--or multiple someones--that needed to know Christ. Thoughts of my parents hit me hard right there.
I cried through most of that worship, and was the last of the people up front to actually stand. Even without my glasses--if you ever see me remove my glasses during worship or a sermon, it's because I'm crying and I don't like to get tears on them--I could see the concern on some of the faces of the Anthem band when they saw me still on the floor, weeping. After a while of sitting on the floor, weeping, singing, and praying to God all at once--actually somewhat easy to do for me, since the songs were right in line with what I needed to pray--I put on my glasses and shifted position so I was holding my knees in an upright, semi-fetal position. Anyone that saw that and was worried for me then, I was okay at that point, and ready to stand up, with just one problem--both of my legs were asleep, so I had to wait them out. When I stood, I saw a smile cross the face of one of Anthem's singers--don't know her name, sorry--and smiled myself before throwing myself headlong--figuratively--into worship.
After worship came small group session, and there was a barn dance going on after that, but I was so exhausted after what felt like being hit by a freight train that I just skipped the dance and went back to my bunk to crash. I was so out of it, I didn't even wake up when the guys that went came back in to the cabin--for those that were in the Treetoppers, you know how hard that is, there's the blast of cold air as the door opens and lets what little heat is in the cabin out, then the creaking as people climb to the top bunks. I was even on a bottom bunk, right below someone that went to the dance--the bottom bunk shakes badly when the person on the top moves even slightly--and I still slept straight through.
This past weekend was the Salt Company Fall Retreat, and a lot of things happened, but I'm going to focus on one small (in the length of time, not importance) set of events.
It all happened after Ed Noble finished his third (and final, if you don't count the Q & A) message of the weekend, which was about letting God into your "dark places". During the worship I felt like I was being pushed toward kneeling right where I was. I knelt down, and just felt one of the "dark places" open up. I had kept it shut, fearing that my friends would be weird around me for a while if I told. --THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SKIP TO THE NEXT POST AND AVOID READING WHAT I'M ABOUT TO REVEAL--
In my pre-Christian life, I was so deep in lust that I even fantasized about other men. These thoughts still surface from time to time, so they're not gone, I won't lie and say they are, but I try to push them away now. They started sometime in high school, I'm not sure exactly when. This is partially why I was so upset when Fred Phelps came to my high school graduation to protest because our class president was gay--I identified easily with the class president, even though I had never met him.
I began to feel that God wouldn't let me simply bury it again, and I needed to tell. The tears began to flow down my face from fear more than anything else. After a little while, Ed invited anyone that felt they needed to be prayed for to come down by the stage, and I picked out a nice little spot right in the center. Various Salt leaders came down and prayed over the people on their knees by the stage, and I felt a little more sure that I could reveal that secret--I opened up and shared it in my small group afterward, and of course now it's right here for all to read.
Then Ed started to talk about specific prayers for people to pray with him. The third one hit me hard. He said he felt that there were some of us in the crowd who were being called to do something but it seems too scary--see this post and this post if you don't know what hit me about that. Next he mentioned that we all knew someone--or multiple someones--that needed to know Christ. Thoughts of my parents hit me hard right there.
I cried through most of that worship, and was the last of the people up front to actually stand. Even without my glasses--if you ever see me remove my glasses during worship or a sermon, it's because I'm crying and I don't like to get tears on them--I could see the concern on some of the faces of the Anthem band when they saw me still on the floor, weeping. After a while of sitting on the floor, weeping, singing, and praying to God all at once--actually somewhat easy to do for me, since the songs were right in line with what I needed to pray--I put on my glasses and shifted position so I was holding my knees in an upright, semi-fetal position. Anyone that saw that and was worried for me then, I was okay at that point, and ready to stand up, with just one problem--both of my legs were asleep, so I had to wait them out. When I stood, I saw a smile cross the face of one of Anthem's singers--don't know her name, sorry--and smiled myself before throwing myself headlong--figuratively--into worship.
After worship came small group session, and there was a barn dance going on after that, but I was so exhausted after what felt like being hit by a freight train that I just skipped the dance and went back to my bunk to crash. I was so out of it, I didn't even wake up when the guys that went came back in to the cabin--for those that were in the Treetoppers, you know how hard that is, there's the blast of cold air as the door opens and lets what little heat is in the cabin out, then the creaking as people climb to the top bunks. I was even on a bottom bunk, right below someone that went to the dance--the bottom bunk shakes badly when the person on the top moves even slightly--and I still slept straight through.
09 October 2009
50? Really?
Apparently, this is post #50. Cue the fanfare. I didn't think I'd ever get to 50.
Anyway, I stepped on the scale this morning.....248. That's the first time since high school that I've been below 250. 42 pounds lost so far, nearly halfway to my goal of getting down to 200. The last 48 will probably take longer to lose than the first 42, but we'll see.
Today also marks the one-year anniversary of that fateful night at Salt, and is 10 days away from the anniversary of my acceptance of Christ. For a detailed description of those two nights, click here. I kinda want to have people over on the 19th, but that might require cleaning up my apartment.
Later today, the retreat begins as well. I'm excited, but a little worried about the possibility of the s-word--60% chance tomorrow, according to the NWS and a low of 23 overnight tomorrow.
Anyway, I stepped on the scale this morning.....248. That's the first time since high school that I've been below 250. 42 pounds lost so far, nearly halfway to my goal of getting down to 200. The last 48 will probably take longer to lose than the first 42, but we'll see.
Today also marks the one-year anniversary of that fateful night at Salt, and is 10 days away from the anniversary of my acceptance of Christ. For a detailed description of those two nights, click here. I kinda want to have people over on the 19th, but that might require cleaning up my apartment.
Later today, the retreat begins as well. I'm excited, but a little worried about the possibility of the s-word--60% chance tomorrow, according to the NWS and a low of 23 overnight tomorrow.
08 October 2009
Not the best idea I've had in a while
On Tuesday, at connection group, we split into halves to be able to talk more easily. The half I was in ended up agreeing to fast on Thursday (none of us went to MMP this week, apparently). Anyway, I decided today would be a good day to do follow-ups for jobs--at restaurants. It's really hard to stick with your fast when you walk into restaurants for job applications/follow-ups. I'd kill for a french fry right about now. Oh well, just have to trust that God will pull me through the rest of the day, and He will.
On another note, the Salt retreat this weekend should be fun. Chance of the s-word on Saturday and a slight chance for it again Sunday, and a low of 26 on Saturday night. I'm definitely bringing my Dallas Cowboys comforter along with my sleeping bag. Hopefully that will be enough. Anyway, even with the cold temps, it'll be fun. I'm rather excited, even if you couldn't tell by looking at me.
On another note, the Salt retreat this weekend should be fun. Chance of the s-word on Saturday and a slight chance for it again Sunday, and a low of 26 on Saturday night. I'm definitely bringing my Dallas Cowboys comforter along with my sleeping bag. Hopefully that will be enough. Anyway, even with the cold temps, it'll be fun. I'm rather excited, even if you couldn't tell by looking at me.
07 October 2009
Utilities solved?
I got an email today saying the utilities would be in my name on the day I requested (Thursday) so I think that problem is over. We'll see.
Now for something completely different. Connection group last night made me realize that I was spending way too much time playing video games (when we prayed at the open, I closed my eyes, and I kept seeing bombs and rupees from the Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening for GameBoy). So the Sega Saturn and both GameBoys--the Advance and the Color--are locked up in the filing cabinet, which is where I kept the stuff mentioned in this post and the items that brought forth this post. It's been an important filing cabinet for this blog. It--or its contents--keep getting mentioned. I may have to point it out during the tour of my apartment--if people would visit me, but that might require me to stop visiting others.
Now for something completely different. Connection group last night made me realize that I was spending way too much time playing video games (when we prayed at the open, I closed my eyes, and I kept seeing bombs and rupees from the Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening for GameBoy). So the Sega Saturn and both GameBoys--the Advance and the Color--are locked up in the filing cabinet, which is where I kept the stuff mentioned in this post and the items that brought forth this post. It's been an important filing cabinet for this blog. It--or its contents--keep getting mentioned. I may have to point it out during the tour of my apartment--if people would visit me, but that might require me to stop visiting others.
06 October 2009
Utility issues.....
So, here's an update on the issue mentioned in this post: They responded to my email telling me I had to call a phone number to get the utilities switched to my name. Today, I called the number, and was promptly told I needed to either:
1. Go in and fill out a form (the previous post on this topic tells you the result of that option)
2. Have the form faxed to me (won't work, I don't have a fax machine)
3. Fill out the online form (I went with this one)
So, I filled out the form, we'll see what actually happens now. If I did go with option #1, however, my shirt would be ironic..... The "It's all good" shirt doesn't fit with a good tie-strangling. My "You say PSYCHO like it's a bad thing" or "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it" shirts would work better.
Someone saved my life tonight, sugar bear.
You almost had your hooks in me, didn't you dear?
Altar-bound, hypnotized
Sweet freedom whispered in my ear.
You're a butterfly,
And butterflies are free to fly,
Fly away,
High away,
Bye bye.
GET OUT OF MY HEAD, ELTON JOHN!! I DON'T LIKE YOU! Seriously, can anybody help me with this problem?
1. Go in and fill out a form (the previous post on this topic tells you the result of that option)
2. Have the form faxed to me (won't work, I don't have a fax machine)
3. Fill out the online form (I went with this one)
So, I filled out the form, we'll see what actually happens now. If I did go with option #1, however, my shirt would be ironic..... The "It's all good" shirt doesn't fit with a good tie-strangling. My "You say PSYCHO like it's a bad thing" or "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it" shirts would work better.
Someone saved my life tonight, sugar bear.
You almost had your hooks in me, didn't you dear?
Altar-bound, hypnotized
Sweet freedom whispered in my ear.
You're a butterfly,
And butterflies are free to fly,
Fly away,
High away,
Bye bye.
GET OUT OF MY HEAD, ELTON JOHN!! I DON'T LIKE YOU! Seriously, can anybody help me with this problem?
05 October 2009
41 degrees never felt this cold before.....
Yesterday, after I had a little lunch (a yogurt cup), I went to visit friends. I was leaving not long after noon, and I figured I'd go back to my place for dinner, so I just wore a t-shit. Those tricksy friends of mine ate in shifts--during a Dallas Cowboys game. I couldn't leave. I had to stay and watch as the evil Broncos stole the game because Wade Phillips stopped running the ball sometime in the 3rd quarter--even with the lead!! I'm not angry at all......
Anyway, it ended up with me not getting dinner at all, and being there until 10:30. Finally, I felt too tired to stay. I don't think my teeth have ever actually chattered before. I don't like it. It's too loud. I can't believe it was only as low as 41, like the National Weather Service would have me believe.
After I got back, I had a snack, read my Bible, and went to bed. By the way, blueberries are amazing. According to the little blurb inside the container (next to the nutrition information), the USDA has named blueberries as "the top defender--among 30 fruits and vegetables studied--against free radicals, which cause aging and diseases in the body." Also, there was a sign in the store that says they fight belly fat. Let's figure the awesomeness factor. Less belly fat? Great. Less aging? Good, but I could care less. Fewer diseases? Great. Taste? Great. What more could you ask for in a 4.4 ounce container?
Anyway, it ended up with me not getting dinner at all, and being there until 10:30. Finally, I felt too tired to stay. I don't think my teeth have ever actually chattered before. I don't like it. It's too loud. I can't believe it was only as low as 41, like the National Weather Service would have me believe.
After I got back, I had a snack, read my Bible, and went to bed. By the way, blueberries are amazing. According to the little blurb inside the container (next to the nutrition information), the USDA has named blueberries as "the top defender--among 30 fruits and vegetables studied--against free radicals, which cause aging and diseases in the body." Also, there was a sign in the store that says they fight belly fat. Let's figure the awesomeness factor. Less belly fat? Great. Less aging? Good, but I could care less. Fewer diseases? Great. Taste? Great. What more could you ask for in a 4.4 ounce container?
04 October 2009
I'm a broken man
....and it took today's sermon about the crucifixion to make me realize it. I realized during today's sermon that my fear over going overseas has caused me to pull away from God. I've surrounded myself with video games, movies, and other pointless things, just so I can avoid thinking about it. I should have been drawing nearer to Him to ease my fears, not running from them.
No wonder I've been so tired lately.
No wonder I've been so tired lately.
02 October 2009
Are you kidding me?
Somebody's gonna hurt someone,
Before the night is through.
Somebody's gonna come undone.
There's nothing we can do.
Here's why "Heartache Tonight" by the Eagles is going through my head right now:
Two months ago, when I was signing my lease (they sent it via email), I had to sign a form putting the utilities into my name. When I sent it back, apparently they couldn't zoom in on the images, so I had to re-sign everything on move-in day. Did they have me sign that form again? No. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Big mistake.
At the end of August, they sent me a letter, basically telling me that the utilities weren't in my name, and they charged me a $4.57 fee for it. Again, I thought it was over.
Today, I got another letter in the mail, telling me that I need to get the utilities in my name by the 9th or I would be charged $25. I'm left with a few questions after all this, most which will probably never be answered:
1. Why didn't they take care of this on my move-in day?
2. Why is it suddenly all my fault?
3. (somewhat unrelated, but not really) How is it that on my lease, my last name is spelled correctly, but everywhere else, they leave off the second K?
Anyway, I've sent them an email asking how I can avoid this fee. If they tell me I have to come in and sign a form, I think somebody's going to be strangled using their own tie--if they're wearing one.
Before the night is through.
Somebody's gonna come undone.
There's nothing we can do.
Here's why "Heartache Tonight" by the Eagles is going through my head right now:
Two months ago, when I was signing my lease (they sent it via email), I had to sign a form putting the utilities into my name. When I sent it back, apparently they couldn't zoom in on the images, so I had to re-sign everything on move-in day. Did they have me sign that form again? No. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Big mistake.
At the end of August, they sent me a letter, basically telling me that the utilities weren't in my name, and they charged me a $4.57 fee for it. Again, I thought it was over.
Today, I got another letter in the mail, telling me that I need to get the utilities in my name by the 9th or I would be charged $25. I'm left with a few questions after all this, most which will probably never be answered:
1. Why didn't they take care of this on my move-in day?
2. Why is it suddenly all my fault?
3. (somewhat unrelated, but not really) How is it that on my lease, my last name is spelled correctly, but everywhere else, they leave off the second K?
Anyway, I've sent them an email asking how I can avoid this fee. If they tell me I have to come in and sign a form, I think somebody's going to be strangled using their own tie--if they're wearing one.
30 September 2009
Mission Trip Meeting
Yesterday,
Was just a day like any other,
Until I went to Cafe Milo,
And met about a two-month trip.
Sorry James & James, I ripped off your song about exterminating. I promise I won't do it again during this post.
Anyway, like I said in the last post, yesterday was my first meeting about possible mission trips. It was at one in Cafe Milo. But I'll start earlier in the day.
I left the Gilman computer lab (it still feels like home to me) after making yesterday's post and checking my email. I almost got back to my apartment when I remembered that I had intended to check exactly where Cafe Milo was, so I wouldn't have to do some wandering to try and find it--having been there before, I knew about where it was, but not the address. I thought I'd just wander around the area until I found it, it shouldn't take too long. When I got back to my building, I decided to check my mail--since it was 10:30 and mail usually gets there around 9:30--and sitting on the floor near the mailboxes was a stack of brand-new phone books! I think Somebody wanted to make sure I got there on time. I got the address from there, so I'd at least know which direction I needed to wander.
I left my place at noon to catch the 12:10 bus that would be near my destination around 12:30--those that know me well know that if I'm not at least 10 minutes early, I feel like I'm late. When I hopped off the bus, I recognized the buildings off to the right immediately. Cafe Milo was in one of those. I still wandered around for a few extra minutes, because that's what I do when I'm over 25 minutes early for something.
The guy I was meeting arrived at exactly one. I somewhat envy that kind of timing, but I mostly hate it. We talked for an hour about the pros and cons of my going--my biggest pro being that I have been given an amazing gift for learning languages, and my biggest cons being afraid to leave my comfortable bubble and my parents possibly not wanting me to go--and what it would be like if I were to go.
Was just a day like any other,
Until I went to Cafe Milo,
And met about a two-month trip.
Sorry James & James, I ripped off your song about exterminating. I promise I won't do it again during this post.
Anyway, like I said in the last post, yesterday was my first meeting about possible mission trips. It was at one in Cafe Milo. But I'll start earlier in the day.
I left the Gilman computer lab (it still feels like home to me) after making yesterday's post and checking my email. I almost got back to my apartment when I remembered that I had intended to check exactly where Cafe Milo was, so I wouldn't have to do some wandering to try and find it--having been there before, I knew about where it was, but not the address. I thought I'd just wander around the area until I found it, it shouldn't take too long. When I got back to my building, I decided to check my mail--since it was 10:30 and mail usually gets there around 9:30--and sitting on the floor near the mailboxes was a stack of brand-new phone books! I think Somebody wanted to make sure I got there on time. I got the address from there, so I'd at least know which direction I needed to wander.
I left my place at noon to catch the 12:10 bus that would be near my destination around 12:30--those that know me well know that if I'm not at least 10 minutes early, I feel like I'm late. When I hopped off the bus, I recognized the buildings off to the right immediately. Cafe Milo was in one of those. I still wandered around for a few extra minutes, because that's what I do when I'm over 25 minutes early for something.
The guy I was meeting arrived at exactly one. I somewhat envy that kind of timing, but I mostly hate it. We talked for an hour about the pros and cons of my going--my biggest pro being that I have been given an amazing gift for learning languages, and my biggest cons being afraid to leave my comfortable bubble and my parents possibly not wanting me to go--and what it would be like if I were to go.
29 September 2009
Sleepy Monday
Apparently, I didn't get enough sleep over the weekend, because I was mostly out of it yesterday. The first big sign was nearly falling down the stairs twice on my way out of Monday Morning Prayer. The second time would have been mostly okay, because I was alone on the stairs, and would have only injured myself--which is nothing new. The first time, I would have taken at least one, probably two, and possibly three people with me. Had that happened, this post would have started out like this:
Yesterday, I was leaving MMP to go back to my apartment and do laundry. The next thing I knew, I was at the bottom of the stairs in a tangled heap with three women.
Too bad nobody will be able to read that. That would have been really funny. Oh well, I just go with what happens.
The next big sign came around noon. The maintenance guy was going around checking the seals on the windows in my building--so we wouldn't waste as much heat, which is free to us. He was only about two doors down at noon, so I decided to wait until he got to my place. I fell asleep at around 12:10. I awoke to the sound of a knock at my door, and checked the clock--13:40. I guess he took a lunch break, because it only took him 10 minutes in my apartment, and that counts him running upstairs to get a new closer for my window--the old one didn't close the window all the way. At least I got some good sleep out of it.
Now for some very important news. Today at one, I'm having my first meeting about possibly going overseas. My plan is for the summer of 2011, but I've seen my plans get shot down before, so we'll see what actually happens. My real plan would have been to stay in my safe, little bubble and give money to people braver than I am so they can go, but that doesn't seem to be in line with God's plan for me. I'll go more into the situation tomorrow--or maybe later today--when the meeting is done.
Yesterday, I was leaving MMP to go back to my apartment and do laundry. The next thing I knew, I was at the bottom of the stairs in a tangled heap with three women.
Too bad nobody will be able to read that. That would have been really funny. Oh well, I just go with what happens.
The next big sign came around noon. The maintenance guy was going around checking the seals on the windows in my building--so we wouldn't waste as much heat, which is free to us. He was only about two doors down at noon, so I decided to wait until he got to my place. I fell asleep at around 12:10. I awoke to the sound of a knock at my door, and checked the clock--13:40. I guess he took a lunch break, because it only took him 10 minutes in my apartment, and that counts him running upstairs to get a new closer for my window--the old one didn't close the window all the way. At least I got some good sleep out of it.
Now for some very important news. Today at one, I'm having my first meeting about possibly going overseas. My plan is for the summer of 2011, but I've seen my plans get shot down before, so we'll see what actually happens. My real plan would have been to stay in my safe, little bubble and give money to people braver than I am so they can go, but that doesn't seem to be in line with God's plan for me. I'll go more into the situation tomorrow--or maybe later today--when the meeting is done.
27 September 2009
ISU-Army (and other stuff)
Yesterday was the ISU-Army game. Before I get to that, let's talk about the amazing game my Sega Saturn played against itself. Sometimes, when I'm really bored, I have my Sega Saturn play itself in a sports game. Yesterday, it was baseball--the San Diego Padres visiting the Houston Astros. At first, the game was pretty normal--the Padres tied it up at 4 in the top of the 6th--but it didn't stay that way. It was still tied at four after the 9th, so it went into extras. No score in the 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, or 15th innings.....16th inning comes, and I noticed, "Hey, the announcer isn't saying what inning it is anymore. Guess they didn't expect a game to go this long." Still no score in the 16th, or the 17th, so the old "Let's play two" saying fit. Nobody scored in the 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, or 24th innings. I started to wonder if it was going to be a "Let's play three" day. Finally, the Padres got 2 in the top of the 25th to make it 6-4. The bottom of the inning comes, and the Astros tied it back up at 6, with the final out coming because they tried to make a fly ball into very shallow center into a sac fly--the runner was out by about 10 feet. Both pitchers were exhausted, and there were no relievers left for either team, but still no score in the 26th, 27th, 28th, or 29th. The Padres failed to score in their half of the 30th, and the Astros finished them off with a one-out solo home run to make it 7-6 after 30 grueling innings. That would be a MLB record, beating the 26 inning game between Boston and Brooklyn on May 1, 1920.
Anyway, back to real life. I went to the game early, because I had volunteered to be there at 4:30--the game started at 6--to help a little with crowd control while they let the "Lil Cyclone Club" onto the field during the team's entrance. They gave us nice, pretty maps and told us that we would have to "walk" when a signal was given by the band..... There was no walking. As soon as we started moving forward, the kids--led by some of their parents--rushed the field, and I was left surrounded--I had started in a corner, lucky me. I WILL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, unless I am given a promise that the kids--and some of the parents--will be given ketamine before they're allowed anywhere near the field....and that might still not be enough. But hey, I got to be on the field, and watch the opening kickoff from just outside the endzone.
The Cyclones won the game 31-10, thus matching Chizik's highest number of wins in his two seasons at ISU--why Auburn ever wanted him, I don't know--with 8 games left in the season. After the game, of course, comes STADIUM CLEANUP!!!!! They needed more blowers, and even though I had heard horror stories about it, I volunteered for it--better that than always bending over and actually having to touch the trash. I had been told that your back will ache after you're about half done, but my back was fine after we finished--maybe I'm not the best judge of that, though, for the first 3 years of high school, I carried all of my books in my backpack to every class. My legs were tired, but when you walk the length of the stadium about a dozen times, that'll happen.
On the way to the glorious reward of free pizza, some of us were talking. For some reason, I got us onto the topic of the earplugs--I'm random like that--and the girl in that small group said if she brought hers home, her son would want to play with them. I looked at her. "You have a son?" "I have three sons." I looked at her again. "You don't look old enough. I don't believe you." She said she was 18. My randomness popped up again, and I slipped into a Southern accent to say, "Well, I'm 23, and I ain't got no kids. But then, I ain't even done whatcha gotta do to get kids." She gaped at that. "You're a VIRGIN?!" I just nodded my head. "Sorry, I've never met a 23-year-old virgin before." "Well, now you have." Apparently, I'm a rare breed. Whatever.
Anyway, back to real life. I went to the game early, because I had volunteered to be there at 4:30--the game started at 6--to help a little with crowd control while they let the "Lil Cyclone Club" onto the field during the team's entrance. They gave us nice, pretty maps and told us that we would have to "walk" when a signal was given by the band..... There was no walking. As soon as we started moving forward, the kids--led by some of their parents--rushed the field, and I was left surrounded--I had started in a corner, lucky me. I WILL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, unless I am given a promise that the kids--and some of the parents--will be given ketamine before they're allowed anywhere near the field....and that might still not be enough. But hey, I got to be on the field, and watch the opening kickoff from just outside the endzone.
The Cyclones won the game 31-10, thus matching Chizik's highest number of wins in his two seasons at ISU--why Auburn ever wanted him, I don't know--with 8 games left in the season. After the game, of course, comes STADIUM CLEANUP!!!!! They needed more blowers, and even though I had heard horror stories about it, I volunteered for it--better that than always bending over and actually having to touch the trash. I had been told that your back will ache after you're about half done, but my back was fine after we finished--maybe I'm not the best judge of that, though, for the first 3 years of high school, I carried all of my books in my backpack to every class. My legs were tired, but when you walk the length of the stadium about a dozen times, that'll happen.
On the way to the glorious reward of free pizza, some of us were talking. For some reason, I got us onto the topic of the earplugs--I'm random like that--and the girl in that small group said if she brought hers home, her son would want to play with them. I looked at her. "You have a son?" "I have three sons." I looked at her again. "You don't look old enough. I don't believe you." She said she was 18. My randomness popped up again, and I slipped into a Southern accent to say, "Well, I'm 23, and I ain't got no kids. But then, I ain't even done whatcha gotta do to get kids." She gaped at that. "You're a VIRGIN?!" I just nodded my head. "Sorry, I've never met a 23-year-old virgin before." "Well, now you have." Apparently, I'm a rare breed. Whatever.
24 September 2009
High places and update on weight loss
Last night, I went up into the campanile twice. Both times, I only made it up behind the clocks, because I didn't want to climb the rickety ladder up to the room with the bells--and there was no way I was getting through that small opening anyway. The first time, I was the first one down, and I ended up having to wait while the other two people took pictures out of the small windows--I should have brought my camera.....and film. The second time, I was second-to-last on the way down. The stairs are so small and steep, I could have kneed the person in front of me in the head, or kicked her in the kidneys. Of course, I would never do that, because I'm a nice-ish guy--and her fiance would have tried to damage my insides.
In other news, my weight loss is up to 30 pounds!! In just over 6 weeks! Just 10 more, and I'm back down to what I was as a junior in high school. I'm now down to the weight I was when I left ISU after my first year at college--260 pounds. I lost 45 pounds that year--mostly due to going from not moving at all to walking at least a mile a day, and nearly starving the first few weeks because I didn't know where to go to get food. It always used to just appear in the house. How was I supposed to know you actually had to go buy it--or that CyRide was free? Anyway, I'm also back down to being able to fit into XL shirts, but I still like my XXL shirts--they're so roomy, I could nearly fit another person in some of them.
In other news, my weight loss is up to 30 pounds!! In just over 6 weeks! Just 10 more, and I'm back down to what I was as a junior in high school. I'm now down to the weight I was when I left ISU after my first year at college--260 pounds. I lost 45 pounds that year--mostly due to going from not moving at all to walking at least a mile a day, and nearly starving the first few weeks because I didn't know where to go to get food. It always used to just appear in the house. How was I supposed to know you actually had to go buy it--or that CyRide was free? Anyway, I'm also back down to being able to fit into XL shirts, but I still like my XXL shirts--they're so roomy, I could nearly fit another person in some of them.
22 September 2009
Why is it so hard to simply walk home?
On Saturday, after getting back from the funeral and the post-funeral family "fun", I went to a dessert party. First, I had a little trouble finding the place, because I didn't pay attention to the address--I thought it was in Freddy, but it was in University Village. Soon after I arrived, all the other males left--I guess I just send out some kind of signal or something--and I was left with a decision: would it be more awkward to stay and be the only guy, or leave simply because I was the only guy. Having just gotten there, I thought it would be more awkward to leave, so I stayed.
At the end of the party, there were just 4 people there, counting myself. Suddenly, worries about me walking back home surfaced. After 2 offers for a ride home, an offer to stay and wait for the next bus, and an offer to call the drunk bus for me--which included the question "Can you act drunk?"--they finally resigned themselves to the fact that I was going to walk home. As I was leaving, the oldest of the three asked if I had a phone. I held up my cell as proof, and she told me to call if I ran into any trouble. I think I rolled my eyes at this, but I was facing away from her, and I replied simply with "I will."
On my way home, not much happened. I saw a streaker (who got his clothes stolen by his buddy as he was running across Stange and back) and a group of people trying to climb the statue that's just south of MacKay, but nothing dangerous. When I got home, I was tempted to text all three of the ladies so that they would know I was safe. It probably would have gone something like this:
You can stop worrying now, I made it home with all my body parts still attached and all of my belongings still on my person.
I know they were just being good friends while worrying about me, but it bothers me a little that people worry about me so much. I nearly gave in to the offer of a ride--there was no way I was getting on the Moonshine Express--just to abate their worries. If they had kept going for a couple more minutes, I think I would have.
There are a couple things that I found funny about them trying to act like my mother.
1. The oldest of the three of them is still nearly three years younger than I am--one of my teeth is older than she is. Seriously, I still have one of my baby teeth.
2. My mother would have given up a lot sooner than they did. She knows me too well.
At the end of the party, there were just 4 people there, counting myself. Suddenly, worries about me walking back home surfaced. After 2 offers for a ride home, an offer to stay and wait for the next bus, and an offer to call the drunk bus for me--which included the question "Can you act drunk?"--they finally resigned themselves to the fact that I was going to walk home. As I was leaving, the oldest of the three asked if I had a phone. I held up my cell as proof, and she told me to call if I ran into any trouble. I think I rolled my eyes at this, but I was facing away from her, and I replied simply with "I will."
On my way home, not much happened. I saw a streaker (who got his clothes stolen by his buddy as he was running across Stange and back) and a group of people trying to climb the statue that's just south of MacKay, but nothing dangerous. When I got home, I was tempted to text all three of the ladies so that they would know I was safe. It probably would have gone something like this:
You can stop worrying now, I made it home with all my body parts still attached and all of my belongings still on my person.
I know they were just being good friends while worrying about me, but it bothers me a little that people worry about me so much. I nearly gave in to the offer of a ride--there was no way I was getting on the Moonshine Express--just to abate their worries. If they had kept going for a couple more minutes, I think I would have.
There are a couple things that I found funny about them trying to act like my mother.
1. The oldest of the three of them is still nearly three years younger than I am--one of my teeth is older than she is. Seriously, I still have one of my baby teeth.
2. My mother would have given up a lot sooner than they did. She knows me too well.
16 September 2009
Not a good week
On Sunday (which I recently saw was "Grandparent's Day" on my calendar--ouch) I got a call from my mom. She told me that my grandfather--my dad's dad, my mom's parents have both left the world of the living already--was in the process of dying--he's been in the hospital's long-term care ward for the last two and a half years, battling cancer. I misheard, and proceeded to tell a few friends he had died. Oops. By the time I realized I had misheard, we were in Grundy Center--a dead zone for my phone, so I couldn't retract the statement. We stayed the night in the grandparents' house--both are in the hospital, so it's been a kind of flophouse for people visiting them--and went back Monday morning. Nothing had changed, and my dad had a Tuesday morning doctor's appointment, so I hitched a ride back to Ames with him so I could do laundry (Monday is my normal laundry day).
On Tuesday at around noon, my dad picked me up and we went back up there. His breathing had improved since we left--up to 20 per minute and calm, instead of 12 per minute and ragged (yes I timed him, I got a little bored). Still, he wasn't responding to anything, or even opening his eyes. We went back to the grandparents' for the night, and I slept on the couch again, first falling asleep while trying to watch the White Sox play in Seattle--stupid 9:10 start time--but I woke up for the last two batters. Anyway, early this morning, I awoke to running feet and a phone ringing. I knew what it was, so I stayed still while my dad answered the phone. After he hung up, I heard him say to my mom that his dad had died about 15 minutes before. I grabbed my cell phone and checked the time--6:15.
The rest of today was spent finalizing funeral plans, and getting things ordered. Everyone is taking off for home tonight, with some of us already home--my mom and myself for sure, others will arrive at their respective homes later. Tonight is going to be the first time since Saturday night that I will sleep in a bed--I was too tired to clear things out of the way for my bed on Monday night. We'll get back together on Friday for the viewing, and the funeral is Saturday morning, with yours truly as one of the pallbearers. I might even be next to a former Cy--we'll have to wait and see where they put us.
On Tuesday at around noon, my dad picked me up and we went back up there. His breathing had improved since we left--up to 20 per minute and calm, instead of 12 per minute and ragged (yes I timed him, I got a little bored). Still, he wasn't responding to anything, or even opening his eyes. We went back to the grandparents' for the night, and I slept on the couch again, first falling asleep while trying to watch the White Sox play in Seattle--stupid 9:10 start time--but I woke up for the last two batters. Anyway, early this morning, I awoke to running feet and a phone ringing. I knew what it was, so I stayed still while my dad answered the phone. After he hung up, I heard him say to my mom that his dad had died about 15 minutes before. I grabbed my cell phone and checked the time--6:15.
The rest of today was spent finalizing funeral plans, and getting things ordered. Everyone is taking off for home tonight, with some of us already home--my mom and myself for sure, others will arrive at their respective homes later. Tonight is going to be the first time since Saturday night that I will sleep in a bed--I was too tired to clear things out of the way for my bed on Monday night. We'll get back together on Friday for the viewing, and the funeral is Saturday morning, with yours truly as one of the pallbearers. I might even be next to a former Cy--we'll have to wait and see where they put us.
11 September 2009
What's happening to me?
Last night, I went to Salt, and I noticed a couple things. First, there were a lot more people there than last year--or so it seemed, I usually sat near the front--and yet, the speaker was saying that God wants more--and He should expect more. Just look at tomorrow--55,000 people there to watch a game that won't be mentioned much after next year's Iowa-Iowa State game, compared to seven or eight hundred people in a small gym for the everlasting God.
The second was that on the way home, I was exhausted. I looked at the clock on the dash, and it read 10:15. Sad. My freshman year of college, I could stay up until 6am playing video games, get an hour's sleep, and be fine for the rest of the day. Now I need an afternoon nap just to stay up until 11pm without feeling dead. I'm getting old. At this rate, I'll be going to bed at 9 when by the time I'm 30. Either that, or the awesomeness that is Salt makes everything else seem boring by comparison. I can't decide which it is.
The second was that on the way home, I was exhausted. I looked at the clock on the dash, and it read 10:15. Sad. My freshman year of college, I could stay up until 6am playing video games, get an hour's sleep, and be fine for the rest of the day. Now I need an afternoon nap just to stay up until 11pm without feeling dead. I'm getting old. At this rate, I'll be going to bed at 9 when by the time I'm 30. Either that, or the awesomeness that is Salt makes everything else seem boring by comparison. I can't decide which it is.
09 September 2009
How different would my life be?
Last night, in connection group, we shared our testimonials/God stories/whatever you want to call them. After getting home (there was some craziness involved in this, but I'll leave that for later in the post), I was lying awake in bed thinking about how things could have been different. Last year, when I joined a connection group by walking in just before it started--and being too lazy to leave--my plan had been to stop in for a minute or two, then go back to my room and watch House. That brought up a lot of questions on what would have been if I had followed that plan. Would I be a Christian now? (maybe, but I doubt it) Would I be in Ames today? (I don't think so) Would I be eating healthy? (not if I'm not in Ames) The list goes on and on. It's amazing how one little moment can change so much, just one year later.
Anyway, back to getting home after connection group last night. The guy that was driving me home forgot his wallet in the apartment, so he had to run back in and get it. He left his lights on while doing so, first running through some random guy's apartment instead of the connection group leader's. When he finally returned with his wallet, the car wouldn't start. We pushed the car off to the side, and started a mad search for jumper cables (with the connection group leader driving us around). When we finally got back, the car still wouldn't start, even with a jump. We pushed the car into a parking spot, and the guy that was going to drive me home opted to spend the night there. I got a ride home from the leader, and went to bed. I hope the guy's car isn't too expensive to fix.
Anyway, back to getting home after connection group last night. The guy that was driving me home forgot his wallet in the apartment, so he had to run back in and get it. He left his lights on while doing so, first running through some random guy's apartment instead of the connection group leader's. When he finally returned with his wallet, the car wouldn't start. We pushed the car off to the side, and started a mad search for jumper cables (with the connection group leader driving us around). When we finally got back, the car still wouldn't start, even with a jump. We pushed the car into a parking spot, and the guy that was going to drive me home opted to spend the night there. I got a ride home from the leader, and went to bed. I hope the guy's car isn't too expensive to fix.
04 September 2009
Football!!! (and a few other things)
Yesterday, I finally went to a Cyclone football game. It was the first football game I have ever been to--at least, other than arena football. I had a good time tailgating with Salt, then standing on the hillside, surrounded by friends--and then fans of the visiting team were on the bleachers beside the hill. I helped out cleaning the stadium after the 34-17 Cyclone victory, and I was amazed at how much people buy and then don't finish--pop, beer, popcorn, peanuts, pizza, etc. How can you spend the outrageous prices for concession stand food, and then just leave half of it sitting in the stands?
Anyway, after getting back home I decided to step on the scale, out of curiosity. It read 268--after saying 270 about an hour before I left for tailgating. I lost 2 pounds by going to the game. I wonder how many people can claim that--other than maybe the marching band or the players themselves. That brings the total weight loss to 22 pounds--still a long way to go, but I'm getting there.
I also managed to burst the blister I got from trying to run up all the stairs in Larch during the connection group photo scavenger hunt Tuesday night. I only made it to 6 before fatigue and (more importantly) the belief that there was more than 8 floors made me give up and take the elevator. On a side note from that night, if you're ever going to be the top person in a human pyramid, please avoid jumping up there at all costs. It really hurts those of us on the bottom with two knees in the middle of our backs. Thank you.
Anyway, after getting back home I decided to step on the scale, out of curiosity. It read 268--after saying 270 about an hour before I left for tailgating. I lost 2 pounds by going to the game. I wonder how many people can claim that--other than maybe the marching band or the players themselves. That brings the total weight loss to 22 pounds--still a long way to go, but I'm getting there.
I also managed to burst the blister I got from trying to run up all the stairs in Larch during the connection group photo scavenger hunt Tuesday night. I only made it to 6 before fatigue and (more importantly) the belief that there was more than 8 floors made me give up and take the elevator. On a side note from that night, if you're ever going to be the top person in a human pyramid, please avoid jumping up there at all costs. It really hurts those of us on the bottom with two knees in the middle of our backs. Thank you.
30 August 2009
Tell me ladies, what do you know about sea turtles?
So yesterday around this time (noon), I decided to watch all three Pirates of the Caribbean movies in a row. Not wanting to waste time, I started right away. About an hour into the first movie, I got a phone call--I know, I didn't turn my cell phone to vibrate during the movies, for shame--inviting me to go to church that evening and then go see Up at the dollar theater (a misnomer, really, since a movie at the dollar theater costs two dollars, but whatever). I said I didn't have any money to spare at the moment. I did have $10, but that was earmarked for the Anthem CD, and was given to me for that express purpose by the lead singer/guitar player.
He said it was okay, and he'd pay for me to see the movie, so I went--having to stop with the cliffhanger ending of Dead Man's Chest. Lo and behold, there were singing (and dancing) pirates at church. They were hilarious.
After church, I got my CD and we went to see Up. The previews do not do this movie justice. They make it seem mildly funny--and only that funny to little children--with poor physics. The poor physics part is true, but it didn't bother me because I was too busy laughing. The talking dog that is seen in the previews (there are a few dozen in the movie) reminded me (and the couple that paid for my ticket) of the large singing pirate from church. "Hi there. I have just met you and I love you." Classic. The only problem was that dog also said "I will not bite you." The large singing pirate would never say that, and would in fact, bite you.
After the movie, we went back to their place for ice cream--the first indulgence I've had from my diet in about a week. We talked for a while, those two being their usual goofy selves, and me mostly just laughing.
About 10, we were all feeling tired, so I got a lift home. I should have just read my bible and gone straight to bed, but instead I put in the Anthem CD. I listened to it all the way through, then read my bible while tracks 1 through 4 played again, and went to bed about midnight.
This morning, I finished up Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, thus completing (maybe) my pirate-y weekend.
He said it was okay, and he'd pay for me to see the movie, so I went--having to stop with the cliffhanger ending of Dead Man's Chest. Lo and behold, there were singing (and dancing) pirates at church. They were hilarious.
After church, I got my CD and we went to see Up. The previews do not do this movie justice. They make it seem mildly funny--and only that funny to little children--with poor physics. The poor physics part is true, but it didn't bother me because I was too busy laughing. The talking dog that is seen in the previews (there are a few dozen in the movie) reminded me (and the couple that paid for my ticket) of the large singing pirate from church. "Hi there. I have just met you and I love you." Classic. The only problem was that dog also said "I will not bite you." The large singing pirate would never say that, and would in fact, bite you.
After the movie, we went back to their place for ice cream--the first indulgence I've had from my diet in about a week. We talked for a while, those two being their usual goofy selves, and me mostly just laughing.
About 10, we were all feeling tired, so I got a lift home. I should have just read my bible and gone straight to bed, but instead I put in the Anthem CD. I listened to it all the way through, then read my bible while tracks 1 through 4 played again, and went to bed about midnight.
This morning, I finished up Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, thus completing (maybe) my pirate-y weekend.
28 August 2009
Back on the Job Hunt
Today, I got a coupon to get a haircut for $11, so I figured I should take it. I put on a nice polo shirt and headed out, intending to apply at a few places on the way back. My hair is now shorter than it has been since 2001--when I shaved my head.
Of course, since I was looking nearly my best, everywhere I went to apply simply told me, "Applications are online." Dang. Oh well, I still look good, if a little weird--at least to me.
For $11, the haircut experience was pretty good. There were about 10 TVs in the place, all showing ESPN. One was even close enough so I could read the words on the screen without my glasses (without my glasses, I can't tell if I have fingernails when I hold my hand at arm's length).
Anyway, I should get back to my place, and get ready for Friday Football. I missed that over the summer.
Of course, since I was looking nearly my best, everywhere I went to apply simply told me, "Applications are online." Dang. Oh well, I still look good, if a little weird--at least to me.
For $11, the haircut experience was pretty good. There were about 10 TVs in the place, all showing ESPN. One was even close enough so I could read the words on the screen without my glasses (without my glasses, I can't tell if I have fingernails when I hold my hand at arm's length).
Anyway, I should get back to my place, and get ready for Friday Football. I missed that over the summer.
27 August 2009
The Pit
So, I've been looking for a job, as most who read this already know, and I haven't gotten anything. Well, I did get a preliminary interview with McDonalds, and they said they'd give me a real one the next week, but nothing.
I've noticed a bad trend the past few days. I'm going out less and less, and sleeping more and more--up to 5 naps a day. I'm getting very discouraged at the complete lack of information. I'm beginning to hate my cell phone, thinking "What's the point in picking it up today? It won't ring." I'm starting to feel that shutting off my alarm and just going back to bed wouldn't be a bad idea. Not good thoughts with the rent hanging over my head like a 10-ton weight. I'm spending the days in a state of semi-consciousness, just the narrowest margin away from napping wherever I happen to be at the moment. I'm even starting to wonder if coming back to Ames was the best idea.
I don't like all this. I've been here before. It's my nice little pit of despair. I feel like I keep trying to climb back into the light, but every time I get close, I slide back down again--and I'm starting to get tired of the climb. The headlights on Lincoln Way were looking much too friendly for comfort.
I've noticed a bad trend the past few days. I'm going out less and less, and sleeping more and more--up to 5 naps a day. I'm getting very discouraged at the complete lack of information. I'm beginning to hate my cell phone, thinking "What's the point in picking it up today? It won't ring." I'm starting to feel that shutting off my alarm and just going back to bed wouldn't be a bad idea. Not good thoughts with the rent hanging over my head like a 10-ton weight. I'm spending the days in a state of semi-consciousness, just the narrowest margin away from napping wherever I happen to be at the moment. I'm even starting to wonder if coming back to Ames was the best idea.
I don't like all this. I've been here before. It's my nice little pit of despair. I feel like I keep trying to climb back into the light, but every time I get close, I slide back down again--and I'm starting to get tired of the climb. The headlights on Lincoln Way were looking much too friendly for comfort.
22 August 2009
My Story
I've mentioned my God story in an earlier post, so I thought I'd share it today. After that, I will have some things related to it, but not enough to be included. Because of that, this will be longer than most of my previous posts, so hang in there. If you want to skip to where I start moving from atheist to Cristian, the next two paragraphs are just lead-ins to that.
When I was little, I thought I was a Christian, because most of my extended family was. As I grew, I started putting my faith into science, and God could not be proven either way. It didn't help that I saw "Christians" being idiots, either. In high school, I was hanging out in the library one day, we somehow got onto the subject of religion. I mentioned that I was an atheist, and the first response I got was "You're going to hell." Just like that. Good job, guy. Threaten me with a place I don't believe in for not believing in it or the things that imply its existence. That'll work. I don't remember having talked to him after that.
Also, at my high school graduation, the stuff really hit the fan. Our class president was gay and was receiving a scholarship for being a gay man. He was elected because he was as close to a football star our school had (they won 2 games my senior year, and hadn't won since my freshman year before those 2). Fred Phelps--PAUSE WHILE MOST PEOPLE SHAKE THEIR HEADS--decided this was the most evil thing that could happen, so he and his posse came up to protest. There was a counter-protest, pies were thrown on Phelps's people....good times. I sank further into atheism, thinking "If there really was a God, He wouldn't let these idiots represent Him."
I came to college, and started meeting people, and listening to why they believed what they believed--mostly because I couldn't understand why they would believe that. It didn't really change anything, just helped fill in why people could believe those things.
My 5th year of college, soon after moving in, I went to visit the only person I knew that had been on the floor the year before. I met his two roommates, and started hanging out there regularly. One night, I somehow joined their Bible Study. I showed up, and they told me there was going to be a Bible Study group there in a few minutes, but I could stay if I wanted. I ended up staying, and started showing up every week. It filled in more of the steps to belief for me, so I could understand how they could believe, but some of those steps seemed impossible to make.
They kept asking if I wanted to go to Salt, but I couldn't. I was the Treasurer of the Chemistry Club here, and that met half an hour before Salt did. I had to go to those meetings. It was also a convenient excuse to avoid going where I didn't want to.
One Thursday, I woke up late--I didn't have any classes on Thursdays then--and was hanging out in my room, waiting for Chem Club. Around 2:30, I checked my email and found out it wasn't meeting. "What am I going to do tonight?" I wondered. Salt never crossed my mind. After a short time, I got bored, and did what I always did when I was bored--went to check out what was happening in the triple dorm. The only one there was the one that got engaged this past week, and he asked if I was coming to Salt tonight. I said, "Well, Chem Club's canceled...." and just trailed off, not saying yes or no. The oldest roommate's then-girlfriend (now his wife) came in with his laundry, and as she was leaving, the guy that just got engaged told her that I was coming to Salt that night. She got this huge smile on her face, and I felt backed into a corner. I said I'd go, knowing that I'd hate it and never want to go again--PAUSE FOR LAUGHTER--and everyone would drop the subject--PAUSE FOR LAUGHTER.
When it came time to go, the now-married roommate picked me and another guy up and we headed out. The other guy asked where the girlfriend was, and the driver responded, "She had to bring two girls with her, so she's taking her car instead." "Great." I thought, "I've forced another car to make this trip, and I'm not going to get anything out of it." --YET ANOTHER PAUSE FOR THOSE THAT KNOW WHAT HAPPENS LATER--
We got there, and sat down. The opening worship went on, with me mostly ignoring it. The head of Salt got up to give the message, and I spent most of the time looking at my watch, waiting for it all to end so I could go home. After what seemed like a lifetime, he announced that he would bring someone up to share his story, then the band would play, and we could all go home. "Finally!" I thought. "It's almost over!"
Another guy got up and started sharing his story--running with a bad crowd, blah blah blah. I was ignoring it until he started talking about his relationship--a long-distance relationship with an older woman. His was with a woman a year older, and 150 miles (I think) away. I'm thinking, "Oh, yeah? Try six and a half years older, and 1000 miles away." Now he's got my full attention. He talked about how it seemed like they were in different worlds, and I'm agreeing. Then he said they drifted apart and she broke up with him. My heart skipped a beat. He told that he slipped into a suicidal depression that lasted two months. My heart just about stopped.
I broke down and cried during the end worship. I kept stopping myself, but then I'd think of everything that had to come together for me to hear that guy speaking, and I'd break down again. The two guys that had ridden up with me went off to a small room, and I talked about how hard that had hit me, and they prayed over me.
I couldn't get to sleep until 3 that night. My head kept circling with "Did that really just happen?" "Yes, now shut up and go to sleep." "No, seriously. Did that just happen?" "YES! NOW SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP!" "But really, did that actually happen?" etc. This went on for hours, and finally I fell asleep.
I went through a week, trying not to think about it, but failing, not really getting anywhere with it. The next Thursday, I was once again asked if I was going to Salt. "No." "Come on, come to Salt." "No." "You're going to Salt tonight." "No, I'm not." As soon as he left the room, I ran away. I didn't want to experience anything like that ever again.
The following Sunday started off normal. I woke up bright and early at the crack of 11, and started watching TV. After a little bit, I got bored.... I went to see what the three guys were up to. They weren't there. I suddenly got the feeling that I HAD to get in there TODAY. I didn't know why, I just HAD to get in there. There was something I needed to do. So I'd check about every half-hour, then pace around campus.
Around 6, the big guy returned. I went in and sat down, feeling the restlessness leave me. I still didn't know why I was there, but I was there. He asked if he could read a little to me. I said okay, not really sure where it was leading. The now-married roommate returned during the reading and sat at his computer. The reading ended, and some he asked me some questions. After a little while, he asked if I was ready to accept Christ. I barely had any strength in my voice as I said yes, but it was enough to get the full attention of all two people in the room. I accepted Christ that night, right there.
Okay, now some tangents that I didn't want to go on in the middle. The first one is about the "tough crowd" thing. I didn't remember this then, so it's not included in the God story, but I was in a gang when I was younger--for about two weeks. Yes, the guy who learned to multiply before he learned to tie his shoes, the guy who took algebra in 5th grade (and got an A), the guy who has used Latin in his blog, and the guy who took Astrophysics last spring because "It would be fun." (and it was) was in a gang. After reading the guidelines on what the school district considered a gang, my friends and I started one. After about two weeks, we decided it was stupid, and never brought it up again.
The second tangent is about the depression. The older woman was always telling me that I was too good for her, so when she dumped me, I kept hearing a voice in my head "You couldn't hang on to a girl who thought YOU were too good for HER. Just face it, you'll never be a father like you want to be. Just give up and end it all. It's pointless to go on." This voice also kept telling me ways to end it. One day, I was sitting in a classroom, waiting for class to start, and it started talking again "Just bash your head open against that wall. It'll be over quick." Then I had a vision of what it would look like. The room moving quickly to the right (as I swing my head to the left and into the wall), the look on the instructor's face, the spray of blood as my head rebounds, the second swing at the wall.....and the vision ended. I was terrified. The voice started being quiet. He didn't speak up as much anymore. I believe now that that voice was The Evil One, The Enemy, etc--Satan, and the vision had come from God to scare me enough to stop listening to The Enemy, even though I wasn't a believer at the time.
When I was little, I thought I was a Christian, because most of my extended family was. As I grew, I started putting my faith into science, and God could not be proven either way. It didn't help that I saw "Christians" being idiots, either. In high school, I was hanging out in the library one day, we somehow got onto the subject of religion. I mentioned that I was an atheist, and the first response I got was "You're going to hell." Just like that. Good job, guy. Threaten me with a place I don't believe in for not believing in it or the things that imply its existence. That'll work. I don't remember having talked to him after that.
Also, at my high school graduation, the stuff really hit the fan. Our class president was gay and was receiving a scholarship for being a gay man. He was elected because he was as close to a football star our school had (they won 2 games my senior year, and hadn't won since my freshman year before those 2). Fred Phelps--PAUSE WHILE MOST PEOPLE SHAKE THEIR HEADS--decided this was the most evil thing that could happen, so he and his posse came up to protest. There was a counter-protest, pies were thrown on Phelps's people....good times. I sank further into atheism, thinking "If there really was a God, He wouldn't let these idiots represent Him."
I came to college, and started meeting people, and listening to why they believed what they believed--mostly because I couldn't understand why they would believe that. It didn't really change anything, just helped fill in why people could believe those things.
My 5th year of college, soon after moving in, I went to visit the only person I knew that had been on the floor the year before. I met his two roommates, and started hanging out there regularly. One night, I somehow joined their Bible Study. I showed up, and they told me there was going to be a Bible Study group there in a few minutes, but I could stay if I wanted. I ended up staying, and started showing up every week. It filled in more of the steps to belief for me, so I could understand how they could believe, but some of those steps seemed impossible to make.
They kept asking if I wanted to go to Salt, but I couldn't. I was the Treasurer of the Chemistry Club here, and that met half an hour before Salt did. I had to go to those meetings. It was also a convenient excuse to avoid going where I didn't want to.
One Thursday, I woke up late--I didn't have any classes on Thursdays then--and was hanging out in my room, waiting for Chem Club. Around 2:30, I checked my email and found out it wasn't meeting. "What am I going to do tonight?" I wondered. Salt never crossed my mind. After a short time, I got bored, and did what I always did when I was bored--went to check out what was happening in the triple dorm. The only one there was the one that got engaged this past week, and he asked if I was coming to Salt tonight. I said, "Well, Chem Club's canceled...." and just trailed off, not saying yes or no. The oldest roommate's then-girlfriend (now his wife) came in with his laundry, and as she was leaving, the guy that just got engaged told her that I was coming to Salt that night. She got this huge smile on her face, and I felt backed into a corner. I said I'd go, knowing that I'd hate it and never want to go again--PAUSE FOR LAUGHTER--and everyone would drop the subject--PAUSE FOR LAUGHTER.
When it came time to go, the now-married roommate picked me and another guy up and we headed out. The other guy asked where the girlfriend was, and the driver responded, "She had to bring two girls with her, so she's taking her car instead." "Great." I thought, "I've forced another car to make this trip, and I'm not going to get anything out of it." --YET ANOTHER PAUSE FOR THOSE THAT KNOW WHAT HAPPENS LATER--
We got there, and sat down. The opening worship went on, with me mostly ignoring it. The head of Salt got up to give the message, and I spent most of the time looking at my watch, waiting for it all to end so I could go home. After what seemed like a lifetime, he announced that he would bring someone up to share his story, then the band would play, and we could all go home. "Finally!" I thought. "It's almost over!"
Another guy got up and started sharing his story--running with a bad crowd, blah blah blah. I was ignoring it until he started talking about his relationship--a long-distance relationship with an older woman. His was with a woman a year older, and 150 miles (I think) away. I'm thinking, "Oh, yeah? Try six and a half years older, and 1000 miles away." Now he's got my full attention. He talked about how it seemed like they were in different worlds, and I'm agreeing. Then he said they drifted apart and she broke up with him. My heart skipped a beat. He told that he slipped into a suicidal depression that lasted two months. My heart just about stopped.
I broke down and cried during the end worship. I kept stopping myself, but then I'd think of everything that had to come together for me to hear that guy speaking, and I'd break down again. The two guys that had ridden up with me went off to a small room, and I talked about how hard that had hit me, and they prayed over me.
I couldn't get to sleep until 3 that night. My head kept circling with "Did that really just happen?" "Yes, now shut up and go to sleep." "No, seriously. Did that just happen?" "YES! NOW SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP!" "But really, did that actually happen?" etc. This went on for hours, and finally I fell asleep.
I went through a week, trying not to think about it, but failing, not really getting anywhere with it. The next Thursday, I was once again asked if I was going to Salt. "No." "Come on, come to Salt." "No." "You're going to Salt tonight." "No, I'm not." As soon as he left the room, I ran away. I didn't want to experience anything like that ever again.
The following Sunday started off normal. I woke up bright and early at the crack of 11, and started watching TV. After a little bit, I got bored.... I went to see what the three guys were up to. They weren't there. I suddenly got the feeling that I HAD to get in there TODAY. I didn't know why, I just HAD to get in there. There was something I needed to do. So I'd check about every half-hour, then pace around campus.
Around 6, the big guy returned. I went in and sat down, feeling the restlessness leave me. I still didn't know why I was there, but I was there. He asked if he could read a little to me. I said okay, not really sure where it was leading. The now-married roommate returned during the reading and sat at his computer. The reading ended, and some he asked me some questions. After a little while, he asked if I was ready to accept Christ. I barely had any strength in my voice as I said yes, but it was enough to get the full attention of all two people in the room. I accepted Christ that night, right there.
Okay, now some tangents that I didn't want to go on in the middle. The first one is about the "tough crowd" thing. I didn't remember this then, so it's not included in the God story, but I was in a gang when I was younger--for about two weeks. Yes, the guy who learned to multiply before he learned to tie his shoes, the guy who took algebra in 5th grade (and got an A), the guy who has used Latin in his blog, and the guy who took Astrophysics last spring because "It would be fun." (and it was) was in a gang. After reading the guidelines on what the school district considered a gang, my friends and I started one. After about two weeks, we decided it was stupid, and never brought it up again.
The second tangent is about the depression. The older woman was always telling me that I was too good for her, so when she dumped me, I kept hearing a voice in my head "You couldn't hang on to a girl who thought YOU were too good for HER. Just face it, you'll never be a father like you want to be. Just give up and end it all. It's pointless to go on." This voice also kept telling me ways to end it. One day, I was sitting in a classroom, waiting for class to start, and it started talking again "Just bash your head open against that wall. It'll be over quick." Then I had a vision of what it would look like. The room moving quickly to the right (as I swing my head to the left and into the wall), the look on the instructor's face, the spray of blood as my head rebounds, the second swing at the wall.....and the vision ended. I was terrified. The voice started being quiet. He didn't speak up as much anymore. I believe now that that voice was The Evil One, The Enemy, etc--Satan, and the vision had come from God to scare me enough to stop listening to The Enemy, even though I wasn't a believer at the time.
21 August 2009
Couple things
Okay, last night I was reading Toons--one of the best free periodicals ever--and I saw one ad that always takes me back. It's a picture of the guy that did my piercings, smiling up from the page. I thought for a little while, and realized that the tattoo/piercing parlor I went to was right next to where Jeff's Pizza is now. That's right, I live in the building where the most painful experience of my life happened. At least, the most painful experience I can remember. I don't remember how much it hurt to have a tent pole through the roof of my mouth--I was only a year old at the time.
Secondly, this morning I went to Target to get a card to refill my phone account (Hooray for pay-as-you-go plans) and I misjudged how much I needed to get out there, buy the card, and get back. I was left with 26 cents to get back--the bus is one dollar. I know, I could use my ISUCard to ride the bus for free, but it would feel like stealing since I'm not a student, and don't plan to be until next fall. So I walked the 2.3 miles (according to Google Maps) home from Target. I needed the exercise, and I felt good afterward--hungry, but good.
Now, I must return to my fortress of solitude to await the upcoming James & James concert.
Secondly, this morning I went to Target to get a card to refill my phone account (Hooray for pay-as-you-go plans) and I misjudged how much I needed to get out there, buy the card, and get back. I was left with 26 cents to get back--the bus is one dollar. I know, I could use my ISUCard to ride the bus for free, but it would feel like stealing since I'm not a student, and don't plan to be until next fall. So I walked the 2.3 miles (according to Google Maps) home from Target. I needed the exercise, and I felt good afterward--hungry, but good.
Now, I must return to my fortress of solitude to await the upcoming James & James concert.
20 August 2009
Short Post
So yesterday, after getting only 4 hours of sleep overnight, I took an afternoon nap. Where did I take it? Was it:
A. in bed
B. on my futon
C. in my comfy recliner?
That's right, the correct answer is D. the floor. It's more comfortable than you would think for a short nap.
After my nap, I went and visited people. I saw the engaged couple mentioned in the last post. They confirmed they were engaged. (I believe her more than him. I know him too well. Sorry, big guy.) So, I won't be waiting for the "GOTCHA!" anymore.
A. in bed
B. on my futon
C. in my comfy recliner?
That's right, the correct answer is D. the floor. It's more comfortable than you would think for a short nap.
After my nap, I went and visited people. I saw the engaged couple mentioned in the last post. They confirmed they were engaged. (I believe her more than him. I know him too well. Sorry, big guy.) So, I won't be waiting for the "GOTCHA!" anymore.
19 August 2009
4 hours sleep is not enough
Okay, first I need to correct something in the last post. When I said Cru is the mortal enemy of Salt, I was forgetting that computers fail at sarcasm worse than a newborn giraffe would fail a quantum physics test. Sorry about that, newborn giraffes everywhere, I'm tired and not in the mood to be politically correct to you.
Anyway, back on to the real post. Last night, I went to an engagement party for a couple of friends. I'm still not completely sure I believe it actually happened, and part of me expects them to shout "FOOLED YOU!" about a week from now--this is from the cynic in me that says you can't get engaged when you're not even dating. Congrats to them anyway. They're younger than I am, so I got that feeling that I'm old and alone again--I thought I had gotten rid of that, but that shows what I know. The spam I've been getting that says I can get a free travel bag if I sign up for AARP now doesn't help the old feeling.
--PAUSE WHILE I TRY NOT TO QUOTE FROM MONTY PYTHON AND THE QUEST FOR THE HOLY GRAIL--
-Old woman!
-Man!
-Sorry, old man!
-I'm 37!
-What?
-I'm 37, I'm not old!
-Well I can't just call you man.
-You could call me Dennis.
-I didn't know you were called Dennis.
--PAUSE WHILE I FEEL SHAME AT FAILING TO NOT QUOTE--
I also think I'm developing allergies, which is true, but it was also a good cover-up for my eyes looking like they're about to burst with tears--not sure if they really looked like it, but they felt like it.
What made me the most sad, however, was answering the old "How are you doing?" question that about half the people who talked to me asked. I could never be a professional poker player. My emotions are right out for everyone to see. Because I couldn't hide that I was feeling lousy, I felt like I had to keep rehashing the fact that my parents are getting divorced. The more I repeated this, the more I realized that I'm not as okay with it as I had thought. By 9:30, the effort it took to keep from breaking down in tears was making me exhausted, so I took off. I chose not to take the stairs up to my apartment, and I think if I had taken them, I wouldn't have made it. As it was, I made it into the elevator and broke down.
I made it back to my apartment, and finished the crying I had started in the elevator. When I was done, I felt awake again, so I decided to get back into my book--Insomnia by Stephen King. When my usual bedtime rolled around--11:00--I checked to see how far I was from the end, because it was getting exciting. Only 150 pages or so. Then I started to debate staying up and finishing it, and decided to, probably because some subconscious part of my mind knew that if I went to bed, I'd start crying again.
I finished up just before 3, and went to bed. Just as my subconscious mind suspected, I broke down again. I hate crying alone in the dark. It just makes me feel so empty.
Anyway, back on to the real post. Last night, I went to an engagement party for a couple of friends. I'm still not completely sure I believe it actually happened, and part of me expects them to shout "FOOLED YOU!" about a week from now--this is from the cynic in me that says you can't get engaged when you're not even dating. Congrats to them anyway. They're younger than I am, so I got that feeling that I'm old and alone again--I thought I had gotten rid of that, but that shows what I know. The spam I've been getting that says I can get a free travel bag if I sign up for AARP now doesn't help the old feeling.
--PAUSE WHILE I TRY NOT TO QUOTE FROM MONTY PYTHON AND THE QUEST FOR THE HOLY GRAIL--
-Old woman!
-Man!
-Sorry, old man!
-I'm 37!
-What?
-I'm 37, I'm not old!
-Well I can't just call you man.
-You could call me Dennis.
-I didn't know you were called Dennis.
--PAUSE WHILE I FEEL SHAME AT FAILING TO NOT QUOTE--
I also think I'm developing allergies, which is true, but it was also a good cover-up for my eyes looking like they're about to burst with tears--not sure if they really looked like it, but they felt like it.
What made me the most sad, however, was answering the old "How are you doing?" question that about half the people who talked to me asked. I could never be a professional poker player. My emotions are right out for everyone to see. Because I couldn't hide that I was feeling lousy, I felt like I had to keep rehashing the fact that my parents are getting divorced. The more I repeated this, the more I realized that I'm not as okay with it as I had thought. By 9:30, the effort it took to keep from breaking down in tears was making me exhausted, so I took off. I chose not to take the stairs up to my apartment, and I think if I had taken them, I wouldn't have made it. As it was, I made it into the elevator and broke down.
I made it back to my apartment, and finished the crying I had started in the elevator. When I was done, I felt awake again, so I decided to get back into my book--Insomnia by Stephen King. When my usual bedtime rolled around--11:00--I checked to see how far I was from the end, because it was getting exciting. Only 150 pages or so. Then I started to debate staying up and finishing it, and decided to, probably because some subconscious part of my mind knew that if I went to bed, I'd start crying again.
I finished up just before 3, and went to bed. Just as my subconscious mind suspected, I broke down again. I hate crying alone in the dark. It just makes me feel so empty.
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