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.
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