Camping

Dear Spencer, Idaho

In a few short hours, I get to finally leave on my trip to go camping. A vacation I sorely need. I imagine it will be cold and rain 90% of the time. But it will just be nice to be out and about.

Cannot wait. Be good to me this weekend please. I look forward to this every year.


Sincerely,

J-Dubb VII

Early Morning Errors

Wow, I have really got to stop posting blogs before I go to sleep. I make embarrassing grammatical errors that only a brain damaged imbecile would make.

Advice for the reader: Don't read my blog unless the post has been up for more than 24 hours. I usually sleep, and then catch my insane errors when I wake up.

Thank you for your patronage, bored reader!

Rock on.

News of the Past

As I was eating dinner last night, my mom casually mentioned that she had talked to the mothers of many of my childhood friends last weekend. Apparently, she talked to most of them during the yard sale she held at the house. She told me all the things that had been going on with the friends who had greatly influenced many years of my life.

One or two were married off it seems. But they were more acquaintances than anything. It shocked me more to hear about some of my closest friends of childhood. So much tragedy in such little time and relatively early in their youth. A little disappointment and a slight bit of anger came over me. Many of the friends I shared about a decade of my life with, went on to make heartbreaking decisions with their lives.

It's strange to look back on them. Their faces haven't aged past the age of 16 in my memory. Still youthful. Still young enough to be somewhat innocent and naive even though the present reality dictates differently. I think of how they shaped who I was, and who I am now. But I realized more importantly, they shaped who I am not. If I had stayed friends with those people, who would I be now? Would I have made the same mistakes? Or would my stubborn personality still be too strong to let me follow suit? It's hard to say.

Their faces haunt my dreams monthly. In my dreams, we share a surreal reality where nothing has changed. A surreality where we can always meet and be the people we once were. Living in a time where we believed in each other and anything was possible for all of us. We act as though nothing has changed and the weight of the world hasn't yet changed us or negatively influenced our decisions. Easily once a month, I have dreams of these old friends and the way things used to be. Although, I have physically and emotionally moved on from that time, my unconscious mind seems to be stuck in the past. The dreams reoccur and I don't know why.

In my more philosophical moments, I have always stuck with one ideal that brings me comfort. From the past, dead or alive, what was and what was not, the hands we held and left behind, the people we once cherished the most are never truly gone from us permanently. For in the comfort of sleep, we can always meet again in our dreams, whether we want to or not.

These meetings in my dream are usually non-sequitur in nature. Usually they make no sense and have no meaning. Every now and then, I wake up sad to have left the innocent surreality. Other times I wake up stricken with guilt that things had gone the way they had. In other instances, I wake up feeling positive that I have a false sense of power to visit the times of happiness when I was young.

I have no special regard for those younger years of my life, in all honesty. Most of the years I was unhappy being in middle school and high school. Hating it almost every second of the way. There was only a few good times that I felt kept me going. I don't look back on those times and think "I wish I could go back to that." Truth be told, I was miserable back then and wouldn't go back for anything in the world. I'm happier now in my early adult life than I ever was. I don't care for "dream interpretation" as I tend to lump it in the same categories as astrology, new age medicine and Greek mythology. There is no closure I desire or any mysteries I need answers to. My dreams are the product of a coincidence that I can't control.

My past friends are just that, the past. Their influence on me is priceless and has led me to many positive directions in my life. I don't envy anything that has happened to them now. I find with the friends I have had now for the past 8 years have been the best. I find myself frequently envying their talents and qualities. I am lucky to have the friends I have now and will hopefully continue to have.

But still, having the knowledge of their current lives leaves me in thought. I can't help but wonder to some degree how much different things would be if we had all stayed friends.

Egos and Delusions Running Wild

Entitlement. Overconfidence. Egotistical. Arrogant.

These are words I use to describe people today. It's very interesting how ones ego can get out of control. My generation and younger have been most susceptible to this ridiculous self-esteem movement. These people have delusions of who they think they are, or at least what they think they ought to be. It's as if they live their life thinking they are the hero on stage in a grand broadway musical. Drama. Leadership. Undeservingly high expectations. Grandiosity. It's all packed into one person. They see themselves as leaders deserving the best. I'm tired of hearing immature girls demanding a man of high standard. Smart, rich, handsome with a good job. It's highly unlikely someone with high intelligence will date someone so stupid and delusional.

I don't get it. It's like living in a fantasy world in your head. Where everything should be going your way because you think you've done it right. It sickens me to see so many lazy people demand money and results with little effort because they think they have a special way about them. A special something that connects them with people. Their personality alienates people who live in reality and attracts personalities that are the same as theirs.

I guess it's hard to describe my feelings of frustration without decent examples. But I imagine there is one or two people you know or have known that are like this or a branch of such. I don't know why it's sparked my frustration so much at this time of day when all I want to do is sleep.

Sleep. That's what it is. Sleep. That's what I need.

I'll quit my bitchin' now.

Nice To See You Again Mr. Sun

I'm so glad it's Spring. I always miss the sunshine and warmth during the winter months. I'm not a winter person at all. I hate snow. I hate cold. I hate anything that has to do with the cold. Period. I always feel the most stressed out and overwhelmed in the winter. It's just the way it's always been. Today when I was driving home from work, I saw the sun come up over the mountains at 6:15. I like working graveyards in the summer for that reason. I get to drive home during beautiful weather. The sun is coming up, the roads are clear. Everything seems so peaceful. I love rolling my window down and driving home in the summer. I don't know why it makes me so happy. But it can turn a bad day to a great day just in an instant.

I'm glad May is here. I get to go camping for Memorial weekend like every year. It signifies that Summer is around the corner. I will need to work hard to pay off my debts. I have distant dreams of moving to the Avenues so I'm closer to work and everything else I go to. I doubt it will happen. But I would love to do it. I would save so much money in gas. Plus I just want to be on my own again. I miss it a lot. We'll see what happens once the Summer comes to an end.

I'm not looking forward to August. Two of my best friends will be off to prestigious schools. Things will be different around here. With each year that passes, I'm reminded about how old I'm starting to get and how little time I have to accomplish things. Every seems to change so much and so fast with every month that goes by.

Screw it. I don't want to be one of those downer people. I'm just happy it's getting warm again and I can finally take a vacation to get away for a while. Otherwise, I don't have much to report since it's been 2 weeks since my last blog. I will write more frequently.

Yes, yes. Yes, I will.

The Times Are Changing (Cell Phones)

I realize I'm only 23 and 1/2. But I've seen a lot change these past few years. Being the first generation to grow up with computers and cell phones as a mainstream product has probably been the biggest change.

A couple of months ago, I saw cell phone commercials advertise getting a new cell phone for your loved one. Such a thing would not have even been thinkable in the 50's. Usually the woman would get a box of chocolates and some flowers with a note that read "I hope you don't mind me getting you pregnant after you make me dinner." I suspect there were plenty of families in that time where all of the kids had confusing November birthdays. If you had a good relationship with your wife that didn't involve beating her with a switch no thicker than the size of your thumb (hence the "rule of thumb") you might have opted to get her some jewelery instead.

There was a time when cell phones were for rich and important people like the president or douchebag stockbrokers who talked loudly at your favorite restaurant. My parents were the first on in the area to have a cell phone. I always thought as a kid, that in the future, phones would have games and other useful purposes. I was only half right. Most of the purposes my phone serves is moderately convenient at best. I can text people instead of having a real conversation. I can play games instead of paying attention. I can surf the web anywhere instead of just finding something else to do wherever I am.

In high school, cell phones were really taking off. My friend had one of the first color phones on the market. It was the coolest thing ever. I refused to text because I thought it was stupid. Now its just a daily function and a word ingrained in my daily vocabulary. And picture phones, who saw that coming? Not me. Sure there is plenty of times I thought "I wish I had a camera right now." But integrating a phone with a camera is nothing short of genius and stupidity at the same time. As a society we can now send embarrassing photos at the speed of light so everyone can bask in the humiliation of your closest friends. We can now take pictures in an instant for updating, blackmail, and for sexual purposes as the kids are doing nowadays. We can do anything our laptops can do in the palm of our hand.

Being impersonal through a text has never been so easy. Finding information when you need has never been so easy. It's only a matter of time before my future kids get chips implanted in their brain where they can do everything our phones do, in their head. Our cell phones will be old school, just like our pants, haircuts and phrases.

Ah yes, the times are changing. Changing, indeed.

Science is a Funny Thing

Science itself is a serious subject. It has brought forth a sense enlightenment that the human mind can make things happen if used in the right direction. It's opened the mind of all people that food, technology and information are at the fingertips of most modern societies. We have become dependent on science to solve problems, find cures, bring hope, give us more convenient technologies, and in a big picture sense advance humanity to science fiction levels. At the same time, it's easy to turn our backs to science if we don't agree with facts, theories or anything that challenges our way of thinking. No other subject (besides perhaps politics) has this type of effect on the population. In a way, it's not so hard to believe.

More often than not, we find that science is abused for profit rather than the advancement of humanity. That has more to do with society, really. Somewhere out there, is a family whose loved one losing the fight against cancer. Somewhere out there, a child goes hungry because their nation lacks the scientific resources to help itself in a corrupt government system. Whereas, somewhere out there, a doctor is finishing up residency who will specialize in surgically implanting hair on bald men. Somewhere out there, a team of the brightest minds with Ph.d's in chemistry, biology and medicine, are working on a more efficient way to enlarge a man's penis. Somewhere out there, someone is revolutionizing a surgery that will make breast implants easier and affordable. Somewhere out there, someone is building a weapon capable of destroying everything which would undo the advancements thus far.

In a way, it's funny. It's become so mainstream to see ads or commercials that emphasize the male dong. 15 years ago that was almost taboo. We have slowly transitioned to thinking that global warming was a crock of shit to widely accepted fact. There is a lot more positive buzz about "going green" than there ever was without hippies having a lot to do with it. Commercials attempt to convince balding men that hair is everything. That hair is youth. That hair is the key to getting laid, getting jobs, and yes, even purchasing a sports car. Hair can do it all if you don't have it. For those who do have it, it does nothing but make them average. Ads in women's magazines boast that cheap creams and make up will erase 15 years off your face. It's important to look and feel young for as long as possible.

It blows me away to think that behind these superficial products, procedures, and promises, is a team of people who went to school for easily 6-8 years. We don't think of it often but chemists, biologists, doctors, and even physicists with masters and Ph.D's are behind it. Some of the brightest minds the country has to offer created a product through years of research (that time could have been used for something more useful) that will make my hair grow back in, a pill that will make my lips more luscious and my buttocks more firm. Things are being created that are easy, effective and useless.

Some people argue that looks are very important to some people so what harm could it do? If it's important to them, why should we care? We don't have to use the product, right? Although that may be true, it's not necessarily correct. Just because it's important to some doesn't make it useful. The 8 years it's taken some companies to develop and research a pill to make Bill's penis larger could have been spent on cancer research. It may not have led to a cure, but it would have been 8 years closer to it, logically. It has become so acceptable to embrace the superficial and the insipid in favor of individualism. Everyone deserves to look young, have large genitals, puffy lips, large breasts, firm buttocks, lose weight by pills rather than exercise (the only current, most effective, well known, method in weight loss), whiter teeth without always brushing, faster cars without using any gas, tasty foods without the hazards, sex without a catch, etc.

Suddenly, a loved one is diagnosed with a disease with no known cure. Treatments are little and not markedly effective. Its' suddenly an outrage that science has let them down. Why isn't there a cure? Why isn't there a treatment to better their odds? Why isn't there a lot of research on this rare disease? Doesn't this matter? My loved one is dying. Who is at fault? If I had to point the finger, it's at our crummy society. The industries and our society at large have put a price tag on useless sciences because it sells with fast results. It pays to make Viagra. It's good money doing less invasive breast implants. It's good money making weight loss pills without exercising. The years put into the research of these products could have been put towards curing diseases or learning more about them, tackling world hunger, relieving the stressful effects of greenhouse gases, finding alien life, advancing colonization of humans to space, learning more about our uncharted deep oceans, discovering new species, discovering new plants that could be used for useful pharmaceuticals, animal research to better understand the world around us, geology, astronomy, advancing safe technologies for travel and communications........

The problem is, the general public is not interested in all of that. As a result, it doesn't sell. There isn't as much money as we would like to think for the greater good.

In a way, we are all to blame.

Nursing School

Nursing school has been on my mind constantly. I worry at all times which one I will go to. When will I be accepted? When will I be done? I just want to start nursing school so badly. I want my career to start. I want to start doing a little more. It's just where. Where? So many choices.

Where, oh where? I need to have my life together.

Home Movies

Last week, I was somehow coerced into watching family videos with my parents and my sister. I don't hate home movies. But they always make me sad for some reason.

Watching the old videos was still fun. I never realized how young my parents really were. They had me when they were about 20. Which wasn't really planned. I'm likely the product of a cheap broken condom and even cheaper alcohol. My parents were younger than I when they had me. I had never really taken time to realize it. Watching the movies, I saw my parents had nothing but each other and a few really cheap pieces of hand-me-down furniture. They were broke and seldom had money to their name. They were just kids. But they seemed so happy. So youthful. So full of life and energy. They were glowing. In that time things were rough. They were both struggling to support our family. My dad worked graveyards at LDS Hospital for 13 years, while going to school, while raising me and my sister. My parents made it work no matter what. There was some setbacks along the way but we made it out anyhow. Unlike most young parents of my current time, my parents had to leave behind much of their youth and endure responsibility of having a kid and later on another. There was no wild parties with their friends or vacations. (at least not frequently) They buckled down and raised me and my sister. It blows me away to see parents my age today who party every single weekend, go on crazy vacations and virtually ignore their kids. Their excuse is typically that they are still young and need to live it up. Maybe I'm just old school but that just seems terribly reckless and irresponsible.

My parents 24th anniversary is coming up in June. Every year I try to come up with a nice gift for them. I wish I could just give them back their vibrant youth. Let them be young one more time. I want to give them back what time has taken away. My parents aren't very old by today's standards. They are still in their 40's and for the most part very happy. I guess the best I can do is try to be a good son and try not to disappoint, not be a disrespectful smart ass, and ask as little as possible from them. Ultimately, I would love to send my parents on a lovely vacation, or find a way to give back the thousands of dollars they have spent on me over the years.

Basically, I love my parents and I'm very lucky to have been born in their care. Many kids in the world aren't so lucky.

It's Pretty Sweet

The past few weeks have been good to me for the most part. April has really been looking up. Good weather. Good friends. Good times. Finals almost here and over. My guitar collection is flourishing.

Admittedly, I have gone slightly overboard with the guitar buying. But I'm bent on testing out all the sounds I can. I got myself an electric drum kit, which has been wonderful. I have missed music so much. I think it's one of the reasons why I've been doing so much better. It's been an excellent outlet. It helps me vent. It helps me think and clear my mind.

I still need to repair my car after hitting that deer. The quotes to fix it have been less than impressive. That will cost me a fortune. I'm debating on summer classes but leaning against it in favor of paying off my debts like I have every summer. I also wanted to take the time to spend some time with two of my really good friends before they go off to different states. One will go to med school the other law school. I will miss them dearly. Seeing them have to go has encouraged and inspired me to to do better in school. I don't want to be the last of my friends to not have a degree. It's actually somewhat frightening to think about.

I really need to work out. Every time I have tried, it has fallen through by the hands of stress. School. Work. Sleep deprivation. I have contemplated buying a bike so I can ride again. But I'm not sure yet. I need to exhibit some form of self-control on my terrible eating habits. Blah blah blah. It doesn't really matter enough to write about.

Memorial weekend is next month. I couldn't be more excited for a vacation as it is much needed. Camping. Paintball and four-wheeling. Family. It will be great, like every year.

I have been researching nursing schools and getting excited about applying in the next year. It's still a long ways away, but I try to keep my goals in sight to keep my motivation.

Yes this was pointless.

Enjoy.

Better blogs to come. I promise.

Death

I had to put my dog down on Monday morning after I got off a long shift at work. It's the second dog I've had to put down due to cancer. It was tough to go through. I'm doing pretty ok now. I was worse on Thursday when I heard my dogs time was short.

I was anxious. I was sad. Most of all, I was scared. I think we are all scared when we are confronted with dealing with the death of a loved one. We are scared because we don't know what's on the other side. Death shakes the core beliefs of even the most religious. Almost causing doubt of an afterlife and their continuation there. Many take the leap of faith knowing there is such an existence. We know nothing about death other than how to get there and that it's inevitable for all living things. We all hope that it's not truly the end, that the human spirit prevails over the frailty of physical existence. Even myself being an atheist, hopes that maybe in some way there is something else. 

Sadness is a very common reaction for the death of a loved one in this part of the world. In some countries, funerals are like parties. You celebrate that they moved on to somewhere presumably better. You celebrate the life they had and the life they will have on another plain of existence. Usually, grievance is the emotion expressed for such an occasion. I think we are sad in a deeper sense when being left by a departed loved one. It's not just being gone and not coming back to a living existence. I think it's a deeper sense of sadness, where we are reminded of the frailty of life. That we don't live forever and that we don't get to share our lives with those we care about the most forever. I think we all feel on a subconscious level that we should get to share our lives with those we like till the end of our days, assuming no one's life will be cut short. When they leave, we are sad because we don't get to have experiences we are used to having. We don't get to share any more moments and memories. I think that strikes sadness and fear into the heart of the very essence of the human spirit.

I know not everyone cares for animals and pets the way some people do. Some just see them as stupid animals. Others as companions and friends. I've always been raised around dogs and have always looked to them for sense of companionship. I think last Thursday was the hardest I have cried in years. It was too much to think that my dog was in so much pain with metastatic lymphoma. It hurt too much to think he would be gone soon. I felt as though it was my fault. As though I was not strong enough to have prevented this or to save him from certain fate. I most certainly went through the 7 stages of grievance. Some stages lasted longer than others. I think anger lasted the longest for me. All Sunday morning, all I could think about was wanting to punch a hole through a wall. I don't know why.

Nonetheless, I came to a sense of acceptance. He was my dog and I loved him. Although I'm sad I have to go through my journey in life without him, I can sleep well at night knowing that he is no longer in pain. I know that he lived a good life and that he was well loved throughout it. My house is definitely a much emptier and quieter place without him. I can't help but notice the little differences with his absence. No happy greeter to lick my hand as I drag myself through the door of my home after work. No head to lay in my lap while I relax. No companion to follow me through the house, just because.


Doggy heaven or not, I'm a firm believer that no one and nothing is truly dead if we remember them. The spirit of character can live immortally in the stories and memories of this person or pet. So this is for you Jake. Thanks for being my friend the past 7 years, no matter what, thick and thin, you were always there. You will be missed.

He would always stand by the window and wait for me or my sister to get home.

I was probably 16 or 17 in this picture. I was hugging him for some reason.

Explaining the Tributes

A recurring theme in my blog is looking back and appreciating the events and people that have made my life better. Someone asked me why that was a few weeks ago. I didn't really think too much into it at the time. Today, I actually thought about it and remembered why this was.

It all started when I was young. I can't remember my exact age. I was probably about 10 or 11. I was in Idaho Falls at my grandpa's truckstop having breakfast with my grandpa, my dad and my uncle Dave and Uncle Trevor. My uncle Dave is quite the character. That man speaks his mind at all times and voices as many opinions as he can into a conversation. He gave me some advice that has really stuck with me since then.

"Johnny," he said as he casually lit up a cigarette. "Always remember your roots. Always remember where you came from and the people who made you who you are. Without them, you wouldn't be who you are now. For some people, it's better they never remember that sort of thing. For most people, they don't remember it enough. A main character in a story without other characters or scenery just doesn't make sense."

I remember this well for some reason. I practically committed it to memory. I have also heard him give similar advice to my younger cousins throughout the years. It is advice that has served me well. I have done my best to remember the people who have influenced me to take the routes that I have. It doesn't matter whether their roles in my life were short-lived, long term, or on-going. Time is not always a factor when making a difference in someone's life. I may not be a perfect person or have made the best decisions as a result of these people and events entering my life. But it has taken me to where I am now, and I'm happy.

Drunk Post

I'm currently fairly intoxicated. Not as bad as I was 3 hours ago, but still pretty gone. I shall recap my night in brief.

I went off to Ogden with Nicole to nostalgically enjoy the ham fried rice and egg rolls I love so much at the Golden Jade Chinese Restaurant. It was amazing food. Came back, enjoyed Mario Bros on the Wii with Nicole. Reunited with Jeff and Audrey after a month hiatus. Watched the Boondocks season 1 on DVD while enjoying alcoholic beverages such as white Russians and beer. Had a little too much to the point my stomach curled.

Enjoyable?

Yes.

Awesome?

Woot.


PS. I fulfilled my curiosity and discovered I am indeed capable of playing guitar whilst under the influence of alcohol

Late Night/Early Morning Tribute to Local

It was a long shitty shift at work last night, where my best highlight was a joke with Chad about bacon tasting better if the pig was slaughtered after being pleasured ("This pig was pleasured every day for a month, this is some damn good bacon." You probably had to just be there to really enjoy it). That was at the last hour of my shift. Probably my only saving grace that got me in a better mood.

As I was driving home, all the positive things in my life seemed to shine through. For the first time in months, I could see the sun start to creep over the mountains in the east. The moon halfway hid in the atmosphere, holding it's ground in the south, as if to not be swayed by the sun coming on shift. A grin came came across my face as I embraced the scenery. I started up my ipod and put it on shuffle. The first song that played sent me back to a different time. Although, it was only a time of 4 years ago, it was most certainly a different time for me.

As the song played, I had a flashback of vivid imagery from when I worked at Local. For those who don't know, Local was a music store in South Town Mall that promoted local and big music alike. It was the biggest thing of my life after high school. So many positive things came from there.

It seemed in an instant my whole experience there flashed before my eyes in it's entirety. Sitting behind the counter of an empty store, getting paid nothing the entire time I worked there, meeting new people, setting up for shows for big bands and small bands, meeting bands. Such a big list can be compiled from my experience there. I would be pretty much rambling in doing so. But I'll do it anyway

I remember.....
Late night talks with Eric, as we exchanged stories and heartfelt advice about everything.
John Allred's rants.
Sitting in the store with Shila doing nothing.
Seeing Erin come through the door at almost exactly the same time Monday-Friday after she got out of school.
Attempting to form new bands after hours.
Hanging out after hours watching movies on a projector screen.
Sleeping there because I was too hungover to face my parents.
Meeting Nicole for the first time.
Being visited by friends all the time.
The first time in my life, I felt cool. I felt "in" or "hip" or whatever people are saying these days.
Discovering new music daily.
Trying to find a house to rent with Eric
My VW Bus that nearly made me iconic
Playing my own music on the overhead speakers
Passing out on the lovesac in the store knowing full well no customers would be coming in any time soon.
Saying "testing my tangible testicles on terrible Tuesdays" for every sound check in every show.

I'll stop the list there. But I just wanted to say thank you to Local and everyone who was there. I often look back at the time of my life as the best part so far. It was still a turbulent time of being lost and not knowing what to do with my life, but it was a hell of a ride while it was going. The experience had the most positive impact on me. It will take nothing short of Alzheimers, a brain injury, or hilarious senility to pry those memories from me.

So Much I Wish I Could Do With My Life

With me being an atheist, I believe this is my only journey. I can't help but think of all the things I wish I had time to do. Perhaps I can. But many will be on the lifelong wish list.

1. Learn to play as many instruments as possible
2. Get a bachelors in physics
3. Travel to every state in the US with generous stays.
4. Travel to at least 10 countries
5. Carry on the family name of Johnny Walker with offspring
6. Publish at least one book
7. Be in a movie as an extra
8. Learn Spanish fluently
9. Learn more sports
10. Live a life worthy of being retold by my children, grandchildren, etc
11. Make a memorable impact (hopefully positively) on as many people as I can meet
12. Be an amateur astronomer
13. Visit space at least once
14. Stay in relatively good shape
15. See Italy one more time
16. Own my own dogs
17. Maybe have a brief stint in politics
18. Invent something useful
19. Learn at least 2 forms of martial arts.
20. Have a secluded home, but not too far from a city

That is small list of big things I wish I could accomplish before succumbing to heart disease, an assassination, or even a deadly savage beating from a fantasy character (such as a gnome, gremlin, troll, witch, hobbit, or even a quick stomping from a dragon.)

Quarter Year Update

I'm sitting in the cafeteria at the hospital I work at. I'm about an hour past my scheduled shift. I should be home sleeping in my nice comfortable bed. But alas, duty calls. More education department crap to do. So while I'm waiting for the education department to actually open it's doors, I will write on an irrelevant life update that I doubt many will care to read.

Now that it's March, we have officially reached the 1st quarter of the year. Time has really flown by quickly so far. A lot has happened this past couple of months. In short, I'm trying to get it all together again. Most major thing I need to start doing is work out again. I plan to start up again starting tomorrow. I desperately need to work out. I have gained nearly 12 pounds since October. I go through this at least 2-3 times a year. I gain a ton of weight, I lose it again, become unmotivated to keep working out or get thrown of track, gain more weight back, realize I have a fat ass a few months down the road, work out again, and forth. It's a vicious cycle. But it's gotten bad again. The worst it has gotten in fact. I'm an unhealthy 160 for my age. As always, I hope I can keep it up. But I truly need to do it. I'm starting to squeeze out of old clothes. Starting to upgrade my size in scrubs (fuck). It's embarrassing. So I will be back to working out hard, and eating healthy again.

Now that March is here, I'm also doing Mustache March. It's not a contest........yet. Many want to make it into a contest. I will enter, but defeat is likely. I think it's a fun thing to do. Sure I look like crap, but it's not the end of the world. It's only for month. Today, I take my last shave, after that, my razor will gather some dust for 30 days. I have started a blog that will follow these mustache adventures. Though many will have to be false in order to create the illusion that ugly mustaches are fun.

I have slacked a little in school. I will definitely realign with my goals this month. I can't be a nobody forever. I sure as hell don't want to be a tech forever. So school will see me try a little harder.

I'm thinking about buying my grandpa's Jeep Wrangler. But that is likely not to happen. I would love to have one. But I still have to repair my car and so forth. So who knows.

Guitar is awesome and I will strive to be better at it, as it has done a good job of helping me keep my sanity.

Can't wait for warm weather. The cold blows.

Memorial weekend is in 2 and a half months.

The future appears bright. I just have to make it so.

Celebrity Crushes

I haven't really had a celebrity crush in years. I had plenty as a kid in middle school. I think we all did. When you're young, celebrities are the hottest thing you can see. The next best thing you have to a really hot celebrity is the crush you have at school.

I remember my first celebrity crush. It was the first teen queen of the late 90's: Britney Spears. She was the hottest thing my 13 year old eyes had ever seen. I would have crazy daydreams that would involve me as one of her back up dancers in a music video. (Nevermind the fact that I knew nothing about dancing and was too white to be capable of "busting a move.") Her attraction towards me would be forbidden. I'm just a regular 13 year old boy just dancing for the love of it. (I hated dancing) She is a pop star queen. The press would have a field day, marking us down in the tabloids as the princess and the popper. I would have to do the right thing and resist her constant advances. This would presumably save our careers. (Obviously, I would not want to taint my lucrative dancing career that I had to work my way up from the streets of Harlem for. That would be silly.) But alas, our lust would be too much. I would be the new K-Fed soon. (In this case, I would be J-Dub.)

As more pop star queens came along, the more ludicrous the plots of my daydreams got. Other instances included: (but were not limited to)

1. Christina Augilera casually approaching me in the mall complementing my boyish good looks and shy middle school charm. We would have kids practically right off the bat. It would cripple her singing career, but we would be happy with our uncreatively named kids TV, Fridger, and Mattress (I made that up just now). That's what real happiness is.

2. This would easily be the most ludicrous daydream but is the most common of most middle school boys. This one would involve me rescuing Mandy Moore from a terrorist plot. In some instances, I would even foil the plot before it could hatch into the most diabolical terrorist scheme of all time. She would some how be captured, and I would either have the know-how or advanced weaponry skills to save her. Who needs the special forces or the police? They have a boy who barely reached 5 foot at the time to do all the work for them! (For free, of course. My reward was just being a good person, which she would ultimately see in the end.) After successfully saving her, it would be instant love. We would have to keep a low profile. I would continue about with my lower middle class civilian life and she would continue her busy lifestyle touring and recording albums. We would see each other on the weekends when she would fly out on her private jet from LA to Utah.

3. I don't really remember the rest of my celebrity crushes. But other scenarios included me joining the band of other pop stars on various instruments. (I didn't know how to play any instruments at the time, I also thought I knew how to sing back then. How disappointingly wrong I was.) I would get to know the pop star after months of daily touring and awkward run-ins after a show. Of course, they were always attracted to me every time. I just somehow got sucked into it.

Most of my middle school daydreams were spent like this. Instead of learning to do math and a giving a shit about my education, I was too busy fantasizing about how intensely attractive I should be and saving pop stars from certain doom. When I look back on it, it was something of an escape. I was way too shy to talk to anyone outside of my friend circle, little alone a girl. I didn't start talking to girls consistently until I was almost 17. I spent many days in school wishing more girls liked me. I would always hear rumors of how some girl liked such-and-such and what's-his-face. I was never included on those rumor lists. (Even though all my friends were) I longed to be wanted and attractive. By high school, I didn't care as much. I was more focused on playing music.

I haven't looked back on that in years. It's funny as hell now. But I would safely bet a good portion of my paycheck knowing that everyone else has had similar, if not, crazier daydreams at some point in their life.

Ah yes, that's the good stuff.

Work in the ER

When I tell strangers that I work in the ER, there is this odd sense of awe and pseudo-respect. Usually this is followed by these most common responses: "Do you like your job? That must be crazy! I'm not sure if I could handle all the gunshots and stabbings that you see."

I don't have the heart to tell them I haven't seen a legitimately critical gunshot or stab wound at my hospital in over 2 years. I hear a lot of people tell me "I think it's cool you know how to save a life. I bet you do that every day" (That's the one thing I get to help do at least once a month, if I'm lucky) I guess I know how. But usually, it's not me doing the saving. With my moderate amount of skills and responsibility, my main job is to just follow orders like a good little tool. Place the IV, put in a foley, come get me if the patient is dying. It's a team effort to save a life. Everyone has their part.

I somewhat wish I had the balls to say, "I do save lives every day, with these healing hands." I would then clap my hands and then flicker my fingers about, as if to imply magical healing sparkles emanated from them that enable me to instantly heal any medical problem. I would probably get a lot of weird looks, but it would be worth it.

My patients almost always don't need our help. Coming in for colds, stubbed toes, headaches, hang nails, and a bed to just sleep in. Most of the time, I feel like I'm a bell boy at a hotel full of people who are somehow incapable of getting off their ass or pity wagon to take care of themselves. I'm not insensitive...........Or perhaps [probably] I am. Some days it's worth it, some days I wish I would have chosen a career where my only job was to eat food, become socially acceptably obese, play video games, and some how command the respect of a job force. (I would also consider other careers such as a pirate, a communist, a writer, a pet store janitor, a mechanic, a hippy, a musician, an entitled journalist who firmly believes their opinions matter and change lives.)

Beto's

Beto's is a local fast food Mexican restaurant that has somehow gained significant popularity throughout the state. Although it sounds like I'm a dissatisfied customer, I can't help but going back for seconds of their proverbial "colon cancer pie." A doctor I work with occasionally, always insists we get burritos from there when he works the nights. It's been quite the popular tradition.

Every time we eat there, I forget how gut-busting their food is. Not gut-bustingly delicious. But gut-bustingly bloated. I try to look on the positive side of eating there by rationalizing "Eh, I was tired of traditional laxatives anyway." Or even "I haven't had food poisoning in a while. I guess I'm due."

Just like thee last time, I'm re-learning that these burritos are immune to logical reasoning and the strongest antacid available. (I'm actually under the impression that I didn't eat the burrito, the burrito is actually decomposing me from the inside out.) Yet, I cannot complain. The food was delicious. The price was decent. I have no physical proof that bodily excrement was cleverly hidden in my food. Aside from the fact that my acid reflux is currently eroding my esophagus, I feel happy knowing that I have the challenge of attempting to sleep while my chest feels like it's on fire. I love a good challenge.

This chimichanga (although it looks harmless and delicious) actually has the ability to hate people. It's the only emotion it's capable of expressing. How do I know this? It's currently beating the hell out of my abdominal region with extreme prejudice. I half expect it to jump out of my stomach like the movie "Alien" and scurry out the door to start a new life as a travelling salesman selling the latest in antacids and anti-diarrhea therapies.

[such cruel irony]

New Game

This game is absolutely genius. I can't put the thing down. Even though it's for the Wii, you play it like it's old school original Nintendo. It fills me with all kinds of nostalgic feelings. From being a kid playing the original game till I beat 10-40 times, to my most recent adventure with Mario Bros, at the apartment with Brennon.

That was way back in the day. When I was young and full of life. (Before the weight of the world crushed my ambition and need for excercise) Living on my own with my 2 best friends. Brennon and I had made it our quest to beat Mario Bros 3 without skipping any levels. Day after day we would wake up, eat deep fried pizza pockets, drink copious amounts of beer, and relentlessly try to beat that game. Fun was had by all. (Except those watching us. They didn't find it half as amusing that we were trying to beat the game half drunk, stewing in our own filth.)

Aside from that, if you don't have a life and need something to fill that void with, this game should fix that for about a week. 2 weeks if you're terrible at video games. You will not be disappointed in the time and effort you put into this.............Actually you might be disappointed. Depressingly disappointed if you put a lot of thought into it. But I don't feel that way. It's a worthy quest to beat this game.....Unless of course you have more "important" quests such as love, success and a healthy social attitude. (Video games tend to decrease your social skills and ability to efficiently communicate with the opposite sex) But if you are unsuccessful with those "important" quests or have no need for them currently, then I guess you could use this game as something of a life quest.

(Disclaimer: do not take my rambling and nearly incoherent advice. May result in "anti-social" behavior.)

Comics Are Still Cool

Isn't this thing a real work of art? This is one of the coolest things to happen to me this month. Being featured in a comic that was practically just made up on the spot. The character with the steel wool for hair is me. The character with the long hair is a nurse I work with named Kristin. The bald figure, is a tech I work with named Chad. Essentially this comic portrays a real event that happened.

I was sitting there eating popcorn, watching a crazy patient sleep, and minding my own business. Kristin gets wheeled around in the chair she sits in, at least once a shift every Friday by Chad. As she is wheeled around towards me, she sticks her fist straight out. I was innocently unassuming the worst, cheerfully eating popcorn thinking about how great life is......When suddenly, I heard the wheels squeel towards my direction. I looked behind me only to see an angry bald man pushing a giddy small nurse with her fist locked straight out. I tried to escape, but alas, I was too late. I took a "fist of destiny," to my back. Chad and Kristin both laughed hard after the event. Apparently, I made the most priceless look of horror, which is accurately illustrated in the last panel.

I love the comic dearly. It's one of those things that just can't be recreated. Good times at work. Good times.

I promised Kristin, I would post this on my blog. It's a good story that can't be forgotten. Never forger 2/13/10: Fist of Destiny Night.

Grammar Police

I was an English major for quite some time in my life. Like most English majors, I hate bad grammar............except when it comes to my own informal writing, such as this. In papers, and my own attempts at stories I try to be as critical as possible. With blogs and journals, I forget commas, periods, and capitalization all the time. So for all the grammar freaks out there who feel it might somehow be their business to tell me I forgot a comma.....thanks, but no thanks. I'm acutely aware of my laziness and feel no need to correct it unless it's a blatant error that disrupts the sentence fluency.

I used to be one of those people. I used to be part of the "Grammar Police." (As it turns out you have no real authority, no badge, your boss is probably an English teacher, and carrying a gun or any sort of weapon in the name of Grammar Police is seen as illegal. What a waste of time!) I used to correct papers and casual speech all the time. I never realized how obnoxious that was until someone who was a bigger grammar geek than I, started correcting me. Rather than strangling this person, then hauling off to Canada to live a new life as Paul Canuk, I took the high road and stopped talking to them. I backed off on my "policing" a little. But this person took it two steps too far and started correcting old myspace bulletins and sometimes facebook posts. My basic (and most abused) right to be severely lazy in a grammatical fashion was being infringed upon. No, I don't care if that's a run-on sentence. No, I don't care that a comma has to go there. No, I don't care that I accidentally forgot a word in a sentence that I can't go back and fix. No, I most certainly do not care that type of thing bothers you, because for some crazy reason, my life does not revolve around making grammatically pleasing sentences just for your sake. I reserve the right to be lazy in casual texting, blogging, and social networking commenting. All that matters is that when I do have to be grammatically formal, I do it well and correctly.

It was then, I had turned in my proverbial Grammar Police badge. It was too much of a hassle to give a crap about something so minor. I have better and bigger things to be worried about than if someone knows how to spell or knows proper sentence structure.

In the back of my mind, I had wondered what it would have been like to resign from an actual Grammar Police force. I would walk into a building full of people correcting papers and website errors. Calls coming in, complaining about grammar problems that are out of civilian hands to handle. I would walk in to the chiefs office in a pair of old khaki pants and a coffee stained white button up shirt. My shoulder holster carrying my gun would be visible. But I would have an ankle holster full of correcting pens that would not be visible to violators. Should the need arise for me to use them, I could pretend I'm tying my shoe, then whip out my favorite red pen and yell "Grammar Police! Nobody moves or I'll scribble on your precious work. You rotten bastards have been evading us all week! I'll do it! I'm crazy!" Anyway, back to my main point. I would walk into the chief's office, who would presumably be a surly African-American man with a hairstyle that had never left the 70's.

Me: Mick, I'm quittin'. I'm leaving the Grammar Police racket.

Chief: Damn it, Walker! You're a loose cannon! You just can't up and leave like that. You're the best grammar cop that ever corrected these streets.

Me: I know. But I'm tired. Tired of the action. Tired of being shot at. Tired of being yelled at. I'm tired of taking in every scumbag who can't tell the difference between you're and your. These old bones can't do it anymore. Grammar Police, is a young mans game.

Chief: Well it's too bad. I've seen a lot of good cops like you go off the deep end like this. What are you going to do now? Freelance?

Me: No. I thought this lifestyle was once for me. I'll do something more simple with my life. Something where I don't have to worry about being stabbed with a pen. Or a typewriter being thrown at me. I'm just going to retire.

Chief: You're only 23. You'll be back. People like you always come back. You'll miss the pretentious thrill of correcting people.

Me: I hope you're wrong, Mick. I hope you're wrong.

Then I toss my badge on his desk and dramatically walk out of the office.

Sigh...... if only. If only.......

New Guitar Blog! (You knew this was coming)

Yes, I finally got a guitar of my own at long last. However it was a grueling process just getting one.
This was my first one. It took me forever to choose this one. I had been playing four other guitars trying to get the best feel for what I wanted. After almost 2 hours of playing, I bought it. Everyone seemed impressed by it. I was excited to see what my guitar instructor would say about it. He was impressed by it initially. Once he to to the smallest string and started playing by the base of the guitar he said "Whoa, this thing is broken! You better take this back ASAP." In the the back of my head I was yelling "Damn it, I can't catch a break!" Thanks to the help of my friend Kyle, I was able to choose another. I was sad to let the other one go. I loved how it sounded so.
The one I ended up getting is great. I still miss my old one. But it's still fun to play and I'm sure it will serve me well for a while. (or at least it better, I can't afford these things.) So far, no problems. I worry that my guitar teacher will play it and tell me another thing is broken. That would just put the icing on the cake.

That is my pointless story regarding my uneventful guitar adventure :)

Two Favorite Pictures of Mine

Yeah, that's right.


Don't you forget it.

A Blog With Pictures For Once!

It was another crazy stressful day full of bills and dealing with the last of Weber's crap (I hope) It's been a pain in the ass. I got very little sleep and had to try to fit everything I needed to do in one day. As I was driving home, I saw my old elementary school. I paused for a second. A flood of memories swept me away. For the past 6 months I had been having odd dreams that involved this elementary school. Nothing creepy you immature bastards. But somehow, in some way, I've had several dreams about revisiting the place. I pulled into the parking lot and walked towards the doors. The place seemed so much bigger when I was younger.
A flood of smells and sights assaulted my memory banks. Sights and memories long forgotten. Old faces I hadn't bothered to remember. Teachers who have likely retired or passed away. I walked around the school. Nothing is what it seemed to be. I've never had a reason to return before, really. Who really goes back to visit their old elementary school? I wanted so badly to walk in and roam the halls. But probably just as well that I didn't. They don't really look too fondly on random 23 year olds who randomly decide to roam in an elementary school for no real reason. Pretty sure they would just think I was just some psychotic creep if I told them "Oh I used to go here. I've been having weird dreams about this place, so I decided to pay homage and wonder the halls." Nonetheless, I was happy with the results of just being able to walk around the place.
This field seemed like it stretched on for ages as a kid. I spent most of my time playing football in the spring here or building snow forts. It's still a large field for an elementary school. But it seemed so much bigger back then.These basketball hoops were old even when I was a kid. From 4th grade to 6th grade, I spent almost every waking moment on this court. I had always played basketball when I was young. My friends would beg me to play with them or hang out with the girls they were hanging out with. I was too scared of girls to care about that. I was happy playing basketball poorly and being outdoors. I could remember many games on those courts. Slipping and falling on pebbles. Scrapes. Cheating. Arch rivalries. Going there in the summer because it was a "real" basketball court.

It was odd visiting the place. Remembering old crushes. Old friends. Learning hard lessons. I remembered hundreds of memories just by stepping foot on the ground. How friendships were forged. How I met some kids who influenced my life greatly. Just simply walking around to clear my mind. Old games like kickball, four square, jump rope (I only did jump rope to get close to a girl I liked but was too afraid to admit it to anyone.) Spying on girls to learn their plans. Adventures in bushes and rolling down hills when we weren't supposed to.

For the first time in years, I remembered what it was like to be a kid. Knowing some things and yet not knowing anything at all. The naivety, perhaps even arrogance. Not seeing the world through shades of bureaucracy and politically correct statements, but seeing the world as colorful adventure full of endless possibilities. A world where everything was supposed to make sense. The only exception to anything not making sense was how adults treated you like a kid even though you insisted you were so much older. Not making many of your own decisions. Not worrying about the opposite sex or money. All you needed was your friends and for adults to grant you privileges that made you feel older. Believing what people told you because trust wasn't an issue. The level of innocence to have the ability to forgive for big things but hold big grudges for little things.

It was strange to feel this way. I felt old walking the grounds. Making the equipment appear tiny and the fields not so vast and endless. In a way, I wish I hadn't walked around there so I could preserve a piece of youth that has always been glorified in my mind. A sense of youth that hasn't seemed so distant, as if being in elementary school had only happened a few years ago. In another sense, it was nice to walk around and see how far I have come. It opened my eyes to how far I still have to go in life. In a more quantum theory way, it made me wonder if my ten year old self would approve of what I have become now. Would I be disappointed?

Dear Self

Dear Self:

This week I have been punched in the face by a kid who was so high, he quite literally shit himself. Also, I have hit a deer with my car which caused substantial damage. As a result I did not go to two of my classes this week.

Please cease and desist from this activity, as I do not enjoy said activities. They are painful and attract attention in a more negative context. Furthermore, please get off your ass and work out. Your waddling ass is unsightly and gives people pimples every time they look at it. (Not yet a scientific fact.)

If these demands are not met in a reasonably quick fashion, punishment will be brutal. You will be forced to eat at Taco Bell or Betos twice in one day! This will result in severe diarrhea and self-loathing that may last for up to a week. If you do not somehow learn your lesson by this point, your ass will grow larger. As a result, no one will believe you when you tell seemingly false tales about how skinny you used to be.

More letters will follow as more unfortunate events unfold.


Sincerely,

Johnny E. Walker II

Laughter

For as long as I can remember I have always loved to make people laugh. My Mom's side of the family saw to that. They live to have fun and make people laugh. But I'm not completely like that. I can't just make anyone laugh. It's slightly discriminatory. I'm way too shy to attempt to be funny around strangers. I just end up sounding awkward. Realizing this handicap, I made it a goal sometime back in elementary school to make people I knew laugh really hard at least once. I don't know why but that has been a goal I have carried with me for years.

I think everyone likes to feel like they are funny. I get a natural high bringing a smile to people's faces. If I was somewhat original, I think I would attempt to be a comedian. I could picture it all now. I would do stand-up across the country, party hard, have floozies following me like a cult, then die at the age of 38 of some sort of drug overdose. That's the way all good comedians go. I think it's a universal law that anyone too funny can't live that long (With only a few notable exceptions ie, Carlin, Pryor, Candy) I'm not sure if I would be that good of a comedian that I would die before I was 40, but damn it I would try.

It's been one of my goals lately to be less awkward, and not try too hard to be funny. (not that I try hard anyway, I hate people like that.) Perhaps switch to a type of funny that sacrifices my dignity and well-being. Maybe I'll let people smack me around for fun. Perhaps even place rakes in strategic places that I step on when people are around that will knock my crotch back to the middle ages. Everyone loves a good crotch shot.

Yes, yes. Life is finally coming together again.

I Hit a Deer

So I hit an animal with my car for the first time in my life. It really sucked. Not so much for the animal. But for my car and damages. It all started really early this morning. I had fallen asleep in my book attempting to study, when I was rudely awakened by my acid reflux. I got up to take an antacid only to find I was completely out. Since I had fallen asleep in my regular clothes, I felt it was time to take a jaunt to a gas station by my house to pick up those antacids. When I reached the gas station they didn't have the ones, I wanted. (Curses!) I decided it was time to expand my journey, quest if you will, to the Walmart up the street. As I drove to the Walmart, I noticed at the corner of my eye there was a deer running along the side of the road. I started to slow down. Suddenly, the damn thing just ran in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes but it was too late. I must have hit it around 5-10 mph. The deer got up and trotted across the street towards the Walmart casually. I got out to survey the damage of my car. The right side of my car absorbed most of the damage. My headlight was cracked. My hood was off. My bumper was slightly torn off. It was really the last thing I needed. (Come to speak of it, why do people verbalize when something bad happens that it's the last thing they need? Obviously it wouldn't be high up on the list of actual needed things. It's clearly implied in the bad event that it's completely unnecessary and would not qualify to even be on the bottom of anyone's needs list.)

A deer in a fairly big city crossing the street to presumably get to Walmart raises some serious questions. I have concocted such a serious list of questions for you to ponder.

1. What business does a deer have at Walmart at 4 in the morning?
a. Does Walmart have deer food that can actually be purchased by deer?
b. If it could be purchased by deer, would the deer pay in feces or runt children? I only ask this as it would be super absurd if the deer was capable of paying in American currency. As if to imply it had a job.
c. What if it payed in Euros? What business does a deer have in carrying foreign currency?

2. If the deer in fact had business at Walmart that had nothing to do with gourmet deer food, would the deer actually be purchasing cigarettes? Not to smoke though. That would be stupid. But to eat them.
a. If the deer purchased cigarettes to consume them, would the deer be addicted to nicotine? Would tobacco chew be a better alternative?
b. If the deer was intending to eat them, why? Because it's some sort of delicacy? To get a nicotine high? To "relax" after a stressful day full of avoiding predators and pooping on public hiking trails?

3. Was the deer going to Walmart at all? It may have been attempting to visit other locations in that mini mall.
a. If the deer was not going to Walmart, was it heading towards Cafe Rio or Panda Express with false hopes that they might be open 24/7?
b. If it wasn't food the deer was interested in, was it home supplies at every day low prices at the Lowes next door?

Now that I've ruined your faith in my abilities to think critically, I believe it is time for this ridiculous blog to end. Good day to you.

Boosh!

Well so far school is tedious and ridiculous. Nutrition is the most boring class of all time. It tends to just drag on and on and on and on..........and so forth. My teacher, who is although very nice, cannot pronounce a single scientific term correctly. This astounds me. She has been teaching for so many years but yet cannot say many basic biology terms correctly. (And no, she isn't foreign. That's the first question anybody asks when I tell them about this) It's like nails on a chalkboard to me. I've also taken into account there might be some sort of speech disorder at work. But no, all other words that are normally pronounced incorrectly with R's and L's are pronounced correctly. It's just science terms that are consistently pronounced incorrectly. It's not a hard class though. It's just mind numbing. Math sucks too. But I know I actually have to go to that class in order to advance to other classes. My teacher isn't bad either. She is nice and decent at the job. I love my guitar class so far. I love learning the new instrument. The sound of it. The technique. It's been a lot of fun.

Aside from that, I've just been workin for the Man. Getting paid moderately while having bills to pay above my general means. Such is the life of the modern American I suppose. At this point, I'm just rambling on about nothing. I had something to write about this week that might have been a lot more entertaining than this. But I failed to remember it and the idea is gone now. Sucks for you all the readers in reader-land. Perhaps I will remember it another day when it's not 5 in the morning and I have nothing else better to do than write down my musings.

Boosh.

Semester of Ridiculousness

Actually the title of this blog is slightly misleading. My semester isn't ridiculous in that it's hard. It's ridiculous in the way that it's boring and tedious. But that isn't the real issue here. I would like to think that my schoolwork is what makes me feel down sometimes. I know that's not it either. It's as if I'm fighting something inside of me that's undefined. Something I'm not quite understanding or seeing. I feel like something is constantly pushing against me and as time goes on, I feel too weak to push back. I know it sounds awfully dramatic. At times, I just don't have the energy to keep going fighting this unknown force.

Maybe it's that I just need sleep. Maybe I just need a new hobby. Something new to occupy my mind. I haven't got the answers to combat this. I feel like a new hobby will take my mind away from the fight and off to somewhere the fight can't reach me. It's helped before when I played pool. But no access to a pool table hasn't helped. I'm hoping that taking up guitar can help me occupy my mind in a different direction. I've longed to get back into music in some way. Nothing serious. I just want to have an outlet again. I worry however, since my lessons will be at 3:30 pm, that it will be difficult for me to wake up for this. I want to believe that I will be there every time. I think just having something new and fun to draw my attention away will be enough to help me feel better.

I'm extremely excited to begin playing a new instrument. Not only because it's fun, but to have a better understanding of music. Have a better sense of how the instruments work and sound. The tones. The depth. I've played drums for a while and have an extreme appreciation for solid drum work. I've had an appreciation for awesome guitar. I feel like understanding how it's played will give me a deeper appreciation and respect for the instrument. I don't plan on being incredibly good. But I want to at least feel like I know somewhat what I'm doing when I pick up a guitar.

I start all of this tomorrow. I guess later today actually (technically speaking). I have the day off so I can relax afterwards or take a nap if I so desire. (Woot) In other news........... Well actually that's it. That's all I'm capable off remembering at this time of morning.

First Post of 2010

I think every year I vow to try to write in this more often. I often feel compelled to write more in this when I read past posts. I read how insignificant the events were, and yet it's always nice to travel back in time. It always makes me wish that I wrote more often so I can look back. I think that's the best part of any writing. To be able to look back and think of what has happened since then. I think that's my favorite part about reading my old poetry books. I feel like going back in time to the exact moment I read it. I reflect on where I was, who I thought I was, where my life was going. It's nice to feel like in some ways I have grown. It's nice to think back to fond memories of old friends, some of which I accidentally forget about as more time passes. I like to look back at my past struggles and laugh about how ridiculous they were. I like to see how I got past them. At the time they are written, the future is unknown. It seems that you are just walking blindly and hoping for the best. When you look back on it, when everything is known on how a situation turns out, it almost seems you intentionally went that direction.

Ah yes, yes. Once again I vow to post more frequently here. Not so much for the readers (which by this point, I have ascertained with 98% certainty that no one has read this blog since I started it 2 years ago.) but for myself now. So I can look back and reflect. I don't know why I enjoy it so much. But I do.

Goodbye 2009, Hello Brand New Decade

Since 2006 I have made it something of a tradition to reflect and write about the years past on New Years Eve. I always read the past ones before I write the new one. Each time I read them, I travel back in time and remember it all again. It serves as inspiration to write the new one with a sense of fun and hope.

One year ago, the end of 2008, was spent party hopping with Nicole and Jeff. We hit a couple of places and ended up at Nicole's friends house drinking beer in one hand and cheap champagne in the other. The place was crowded to the shoulder. It was the type of overcrowded party you only see in the movies. The new year was wrought in with a hundred voices in a small house. Afterward, we went to the Belgium Waffle where Jeff drank beer in the car and got drunk. He felt compelled to have a heart to heart talk with me in his car over a beer. I don't remember the specifics, but I remember we shook hands afterward.

I remember January as a time of transition. I was unhappy at SLCC and was looking for a new place to go. I remember driving to Weber for the first time and driving around the entire place on less than an hour of sleep. I took pictures of myself at the Roy Air Force Museum. I remember feeling so at home there. Feeling a sense of belonging. I remember the drive there and back and how foreign, new and exciting it felt. I started my intermediate course later in the month. I remember eating Quiznos during class breaks and listening to the Two Tongues CD. I remember coming to an epiphany about my life. Originally it was to become a paramedic, then do nursing school. I had realized I could not do medical school...... for now

I remember interviewing at the U in February for a job in the ER. I was so excited to have a shot to work in the one place I had always wanted. I remember a second trip to Weber and getting the news that I had gotten the job later that day. In fact, it was all in the same day. I had taken my sister with me to tour the campus.

I remember taking a random trip to Vegas for spring break in March with Jessica, Kevin and Nicole. Matt would later on join for less than a day and take us back home. I was sick for the 4th time that year. I remember Kevin getting too drunk on an alcoholic pina colada smoothie from the Paris. Matt and Kevin popping bottles of champagne and drinking straight from the bottle. I remember signing up to live at the dorms at Weber state and feeling so nervous. I remember dropping the paramedic idea just accepting the idea of nursing school. I remember Nicole getting way sick on her birthday after a night at Squatters and The Keys.

April started off with the ugly mustache contest. It looked awful and tore down my self esteem. It was still fun. I remember the pancake dinner at work and the shaving of it. I lost to Tyler from work. I remember working long weeks training at the U while keeping up my job at LD. I burned out so fast. I remember feeling so self conscious while training at the U because of my ugly mustache. All of April I was sleep deprived.

May was uneventful. I remember buying new paintball equipment for Memorial Weekend and gladly welcoming the return of warm weather. I also remember taking the difficult airway course and loving every second. It was probably around this time where I had felt to give med school one last try for reasons unknown to me. I could not let go of my pride and wanted to be a doctor.

I remember Joe's bachelor party in the mountains and everyone getting sick from the massive amounts of budweiser beer. I remember being sleep deprived and drunk talks with Kevin. We scared mice away from our beds so they wouldn't crawl on us. I remember Brennon and Matt snoring and making fun of Matt's chest hair (the host)

July was frequent trips to Weber to get things sorted out for my transition there. I remember always listening to the Lonely Island CD and getting my roommates names. I remember having to take my mom to the ER because her gallbladder was acting up and the final decision for her to finally have surgery.

August was the time getting ready to leave and moving to Weber. I didn't go to Warped Tour because I felt too old to go. I didn't know any of the bands. I remember being so nervous and uncertain. I remember my first day there. The people. The noises. The feeling of finally being at a real college. I remember actually having to wake up in the morning and try to move back to a regular schedule.

September I tried to adjust to everything. Weber was so new. The commute to work. Being away from my friends and family. I remember starting to play pool frequently to pass the time as I was usually bored up there. I enjoyed the warmth and sites of Ogden.

October I had finally decided to go for nursing again. I realized I really really could not do med school at this point. No matter how hard I tried. It was over. But I knew I could achieve this goal more realistically. I remember more pool and the Golden Jade Chinese restaurant. I remember the start of Venture Brothers Sunday at work. Halloween was uneventful other than seeing my dad in a tinkerbell costume

November was a long month. I felt more isolated and alone and went on to hate my stay at Weber. I dreaded going back my room knowing I would find no solace or silence there. It was a constant barrage loud noise all day. I just wanted to get through finals. Thanksgiving was nice and relaxing. It was the break I sorely needed. I struggled to make my apartment payments on time. I remember having a relaxing birthday day, but a drunken night on my friends on my birthday weekend. Matt and Heather took me out. Kevin and Nicole would show up later. It was a fun night. I remember hearing about Jeff being accepted to med school in New York

December was the long awaited process of wanting to move back home for once. I wasted no time and got home as fast as I could. I could not stand another day in the campus housing. I realized that everything I wanted wasn't away from home. I did enjoy school there and do wish to go back. But I missed everything I had at home. I'm happy being home but do wish to move out again but in the general area. I remember last minute Christmas shopping and being awake for 27 hours on the 23rd.

And now I'm here. 2009 was not a particularly exciting year. But like every year, it was a time for change and getting a little older. (and wiser hopefully) As I get older, I have realized the time I have lost and wasted. It's been hard for me this year to come to terms with who I am and who I am not. Much of my future is unknown and scary to me. I only wish that I can succeed in what I actually need to do rather than just what I want to do or think I can do. It's been nearly 5 years since high school and little has been accomplished on my part. I hope that 2010 will be the ultimate year for accomplishment. Though, I worry more about everything gradually slipping away from me as my friends start to go their separate ways.

Goodbye 2009. You will not be forgotten. Hello 2010, I hope it is a kinder and more forgiving year.

My Life is a Race

Faster and Faster
Here I come
I'm a meteor
on an uncharted course
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
I'm burning up
Faster and faster.
I can't take
the heat
I can't take
the pressure
I'm burning up
I'm trying hard
to keep it together
Falling part as
I enter orbit
Piece by piece
there I go
Breaking apart
breaking apart

Driving down this
unfamiliar canyon
the moon lights the way
in this pitch dark night
the moon shines down
on me
guiding the way
to somewhere I've never known
It's the torch of the sky
It's the torch of my eye
Yet not bright enough to
show me the way
show me what's ahead
I notice the train
on the tracks next to me
carrying all the weight it can bare
I step on the gas
and race it down the hill
Victory
But is it?
the train works with
all of its might
where my victory was effortless
empty.

I see the city ahead
it's not my city
it's my recent home
but not the one
I call home.
I want to be there now
I want to sleep
forget about these thoughts
of failure
even now as I approach
a new year in my life
I realize that I have not yet
grown into the thought
that life isn't supposed to make sense

Rough Again

I realize I haven't posted here in a few months. My first post of the year after 4 months was kind of depressing. I guess that's when I find this blog again. When things starting getting hard or overwhelming, I know I can take comfort in writing it down. It helps relieve some of the tension when all else fails. It used to be that writing was my first resort. But after a while, it started to seem silly to write everything down all the time. I apologize for yet a second depressing blog. I promise to starting writing more down here. Hopefully with more positive outcomes.

In January, I had kind of a quarter life crisis. I suddenly came to grips with my little success in the field of medicine. I realized that the life of the doctor woud likely not be in my future, no matter how strongly I felt about it. I just knew I wouldn't have what it took to make it. I had an epiphony that came very clearly to me. I felt that nursing school might be the next best route to go. For now that's the goal in a vague sort of way. I'm still not ure on the matter.

This past week has reminded me how unsure I am of everything. Mostly today and Sunday night have made that reminder very clear to me. Sunday I was training at the University Hospital in the ER. The entire night, everyone made me feel like a super dumbass. I hate not being trusted. I hate being an unknown quiet face. I hate feeling like I don't know what I'm doing. It was rough for me. Today, I couldn't even start the easiest 16 gauge IV in the world on this patient I should have gotten it the first try. Instead I missed and had to dig to get it. Then When I did get it, the vein collapsed. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. I should have got it in the first place so it wouldn't have collapsed. Then taking that same patient to the ICU was more embarrassing. He was on a dopamine drip because of low blood pressure. I didn't pay attention to how big the dopamine bag was. It's not important. But I'm not really up on medications and rates and doses. Stuff I think I should be pretty knowledgeable in. At least have some idea. When we got to the ICU, I started disconnecting the patient from our equipment. One of the nurses up there who I like working with said I was being way too slow. I didn't think I was being slow. The guy wasn't dying or critical to be in a huge rush. But whateve, ignore that part. The nurse That I took him up with was not paying attention. She was just chatting loudly away about earrings with someone else instead of helping me get the patient over and off the IV pump. The ICU nurse asked what the drip rate was.......I don't know...... Then she asked what the concentration of the dopamine was..........I don't know........... what was the size of the bag? was it this many mg per ml?........Fuck I don't know......... I tried calling for the nurse who was supposed to be helping so she can answer those questions, but she just ignored me and kept on chatting away. The ICU nurse asked "how do you not know this? Are you going to be a nurse or what?" I just replied "I'm just a tech." She just replied "I know, I don't know why I asked. I guess to try to double check I guess."

Usually when people in the hospital what I do, I just say that I'm just a tech for the ER. That never bothers me when I say that I'm just a tech. But today, for the first time when I said it, I really did feel insignificant. I really did feel like that I knew nothing. Granted, it wasn't my responsibility to know that stuff. But I felt like I should have known that. It's not that hard to know. But I had no idea. That really got to me for some reason. On top of that, when she asked if I was going to be a nurse or what, I really had no idea. I honestly had no idea when it came right down to it. What am I going to be? What should I be. This is a question that has actually hit me the hardest the past couple of weeks. I have thought about it long and hard driving to and from work. It's been really hard at work for some reason lately. It's really been getting to me. It makes me wonder if I can really make it anywhere in the medical field. I sure as hell don't want to be a tech forever. I want to be smarter than that. I know I can be smarter than that. But do I really have what it takes to get through school? This question alone scares the shit out of me. Can I really realistically do this? I don't have an answer every time I ask myself this. In the back of my head, something tells me no. But somewhere else inside my head tells me I have the potential. I just have to find it and harness it to my advantage somehow. I despeartely want to figure it out. I look around and work with so many people that I admire and want to be more like. Nurses, PA's and Doctor's alike. I think to myself, I want to be like that. The hardworking intelligent nurse that always looks out for the best interest of the patient. The PA with great people skills that can make the patient believe in their ability. The doctor who inspires confidence and works tirelessly for a working diagnosis. As I look at these people, I realize that I have very little of these great qualities. I think of the other things I could do with my life and realized that I want very little do with anything else but medicine. So what am I to do? Deep inside I really want to be a doctor. So badly sometimes it's ridiculous. Other times, I want to be a PA or a nurse. I can never really decide. I don't know what I'm doing. But whatever it is that I do, I hope it's great. I hope it's worth it. I hope I figure it out soon.

Because right now I'm feeling lost.

Comfort Disappearing

Some days
it feels like
sleep is the only thing
I have to rely on
to take me
anywhere but where I am
I'll go anywhere
From 30 seconds of pitch darkeness
to a surreal reality
full of twisted images
and nonsensical plots
But even sleep fails me
as much as I
fail myself
Refusing to take me away

This music
in my car
is much too upbeat
for my down beat mood
I'm starting all over
Again
I wonder if it
will be worth it
I wonder if I can really do this
and more
I struggle trying to
figure this out
I struggle to figure out
the people around me
and yet
no answer is in sight
another exhausted day
where I can fall asleep
unsure of what I can really be in life

Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009

As with every year, it's hard to imagine that the year 2008 had gone by so quickly for most people. I don't think it went by particularly quick or slow for me. However, I always feel compelled to recap my year as I have done so the past 3 years. So here it goes.

Reaching back to the end of 2007, one year ago today, was the end of an era. I had barely finished moving in the remainder of my stuff from the apartment. My room was a crowded mess full of boxes. It was slightly depressing to say the least. Later that night, me, Nicole, Scott, Jeff, Alexis and Brennon got together to hang out. After a couple of games of hyper homoerotic bowling, we headed back to my parent's house. I can't remember who, but someone felt the need to bring peppermint Schnops and set it on my kitchen table. Briefly we watched the new year be brought in New York on tv. It was a joyus occassion for all. I started back in school and went to work. I sold my VW bus to some guy for 1200 dollars in February. I felt slightly bad about it, because I knew it was bound to break down at any moment. A week or two later, my beloved Geo Metro blew out one of its 3 cylinders on the way back home from work. The memory was dead. For a few weeks I drove my parents car to work while feverishly looking for a new one. Eventually I settled on my Nissan Sentra SE-R. Woot. In April I noticed I was getting insanely out of shape. Brennon and I took it upon ourselves to run for 4 days and eventually lift. This went on for almost 3 months much to our credit. Only to be thrown off by Memorial weekend. We never went back to pick up where we left off. RJ got married in June/July. June was the month we all looked forward to. Jeff and I went to Brennon's cabin overnight for his birthday. It was spontaneous and yet a good relaxed time. Then, me and my best friends went to Vegas for 3 days of awesomeness at the Golden Nugget Casino in Old Vegas. It was a much needed vacation since I was working 4-5 days a week to build up some money. Upon return, I went back to working that ridiculous schedule for a month and a half. Speaking of work, things had gotten better for me there. I came out of my shell a little bit and got to know everyone. It helped me greatly to finally not be so awkward in the workplace by being nearly silent all the time. I had learned a great deal and got to do a great deal. From defibrillating a patient to putting in a 14 gauge IV in a ridiculous drunk. Plus I got a stack of ridiculous nicknames in the process. My work has served as my greatest inspiration to go to medical school. I have also aquired my ACLS/PALS/BLS instructor certifications as well. I would start another daunting semester that would be difficult but good at the same time. I would also interview for a research position for emergency/trauma/critical care medicine in October. My 22nd birthday would come around. I celebrated it at midnight at work with a good bunch of coworkers. This featured a cupcake with a sterile q-tip lit on fire for a candle, pizza, and a relaxing time. Later that weekend, my best friends surprised me at a random party with a cake and gifts (thank you Nicole!) It was good to see all my good friends under one roof. I got drunk for the first time in ages that night off of cheap beer. Matt's large party of craziness would serve as another rare time when all the guys were under one roof. A crazy night to remember indeed. I spent most of this month working.

All in all, I would call 2008 a success. It was a year of stability and learning for me. I learned a lot about myself and what I needed to accomplish. What I wanted out of life. Thinking about it now, it makes me miss the apartment all over again now that it's been a year to the day I moved back in at home. Not that it has been bad, but I miss my best friends and the independence from home. Thank you all who made this year as enriching as it was. Here is to 2009! May it be a yearof good times and better memories.