Shallow-een

Halloween really isn't my favorite of holidays. I don't hate it but I can't say I really like it either. I do like how it makes people festive and fun over what is essentially a neutral topic (Unless you're one of those super crazy conservatives who still believes it's 1676 and Halloween represents celebrating witchcraft and satanism, and therefore is not a good holiday to celebrate.) I like that it's a holiday that is mostly centered around the idea of children having fun. I think it's great that we can all universally agree that it's a fun day for children to dress up, get free candy and form closer bonds with friends and family. I have several fond memories from this holiday. Long nights with my best friends getting as much candy as possible. Practically to the point of filling a body pillow case full most years. My dad would drive us around in his truck so we could speed trick or treat. We would sit on the tailgate while my dad drove us around to countless neighborhoods. Those were indeed fun times of which I am grateful for.

Now that I've grown into a bit of a stiff and boring adult, I can't bring myself to have fun with Halloween. I can't justify really getting into a costume just for the sake of it. Even if it is a party, I just have a hard time caring. While I do enjoy occasionally dressing up like a Star Trek geek, I feel forced and awkward to participate. Even with good friends and alcohol in the mix, I fail to really enjoy Halloween on the same levels as everyone else. I already wear a costume daily anyway. Every day I dress up as a competent, responsible adult who knows what he is doing. That costume is less than fun to wear. Besides that, I really just can't enjoy the holiday. The childhood splendor and magic is gone. Perhaps when I have kids of my own, that feeling will return when I take my own kids trick-or-treating like my dad did.

Most people try to argue that Halloween is the best or one of the best holidays of the year. The typical argument I hear from men is that women have that perfect excuse to dress in something that is practically near pornographic. Well that's all well and good, but I wouldn't say that makes the holiday alone that great. The typical argument I hear from women is that they just like dressing up, though not necessarily in something as sultry. Mostly, everyone just likes the parties. As an introverted hermit, I've never much cared for parties anyway or dressing up in costume. Seeing women in scantily clad costumes really doesn't do much for me other than make me mildly annoyed about how hard they are trying to get attention.Maybe that's my real beef with Halloween these days. It just feels like a shallow ploy to attract attention to yourself.

 My favorite part about Halloween now is actually handing out the candy to the kids. I like to see their costumes and excitement. They are excited to have their costume and to be showing it off. I like to see how happy they are over just a small piece of candy. I find that gratifying. It sounds lame because I don't think anyone else cares. I guess I'm just a big softy nowadays.

What I don't understand about Halloween nowadays is the amount of neighborhoods converting to this new thing called "trunk-or-treat." If you're not familiar with this asinine concept, let me inform you. It's where groups of people meet at a central place in a neighborhood with their cars, and let kids walk around to these cars and obtain candy. The theory behind this is so that kids don't have to go to strangers houses where they may presumably be abducted or some other irrational fear. In all the years I went trick-or-treating, I managed to never once get groped, abducted, hit on, murdered, poisoned, etc. I really can't remember an instance where I went to a house and some creepy dude answers the door and says "Hey kids, the real candy is up in my bedroom." I don't necessarily live in a nice neighborhood but it wasn't the ghetto either. There were never any reports of missing, raped or abused children the day of or after Halloween. I often times went alone for the first couple of hours and then my dad would take me and my friends out trick-or-treating later. It was always safe. We were never in any real danger. When my dad went with, that also added some protection, though it wasn't needed. However, if any weirdo would have tried to abduct or creep out on me or my friends, my dad would have administered a serious ass-beating to the poor dumbass. Any dad would. Which brings me to the next point, if you're trick-or-treating with your kids anyway, where is the danger in going to the houses? Especially in this day and age where you can get addresses of known sex offenders if you're so worried about it. Even since my days of trick-or-treating have ended, I have heard almost no reports of these worst case scenarios. Half the fun of trick-or-treating was going to the houses and new neighborhoods. Over the years, I've seen less and less trick-or-treaters because of these stupid unfounded worries. The worst reports you hear are of kids getting run over by cars, or falling off someone's steps or whatever. It's rarely ever this traumatic homicidal/raping event that seems to be imprinted in everyone's minds.

Wow, I'm finally old enough to talk shit about how today's generation is softer than the one I grew up in.


Anywho, I hope everyone has a fun and safe Halloween! I'll try to type something fun tomorrow if I can manage it.

A Little Bit Better

Sorry about the depressing post yesterday. I don't often write so darkly on this blog. Today is a little bit better. I went to the difficult airway course that I've gone to for the last 3 years. Love it. Totally inspiring. I love the hands on portion, performing the procedures on dummies. Even if they are just dummies, it's awesome. It brightened my day.

I was temporarily intoxicated by the hope of the future. That maybe some day I can really be performing these procedures as a physician. I was intoxicated by nice compliments I received from co-workers. After I sobered up, reality came back. My rut started to settle back in. But it wasn't as intense as it was yesterday. Some of the pain had faded, though it was still there. It's a positive step towards feeling better against this feeling that I haven't been able to identify. This feeling that I can't shake loose of.

I don't know what it is. I only hope that I'm on the path towards annihilating this invisible enemy. I'm taking pot shots in the dark at this thing and landing a few blows. I only hope I start landing more hits soon. I can't stand up against this punishment for that long. I'm only human.

In a Funk

I'm not talking about the kind of funk you get when you want to get jiggy to a real sweet 70's-esque tune. No, I'm talking more about a rut. A hole. A real tough spot. I haven't really been able to define this funk/rut necessarily. I only know that it exists to just make my life miserable, tired and worn. I feel trapped.................or lost inside. That would be a better way to put it. Lost.

Nothing has really happened to trigger this in particular. I've just been busy. School. Work. Sleep. Repeat. I haven't had a whole lot of time for much else. I haven't been fishing in two months now. I think that has played a huge role in this. I haven't gone out to do the one activity that helps me blow off steam. The one activity that brings me peace and joy. I haven't really been out with my friends a lot. A few times, but not often. I miss them. I haven't really had an adventure. I've just been kind of stuck where I am. I keep thinking I'm going to get out and do something grand. But it hasn't panned out thus far. I was supposed to be in San Diego this week, but that fell through on the count of the fact that I couldn't risk the days off from both school and work. I'm still aiming to go to Seattle in the next couple of weeks, though I haven't bought my plane ticket yet. Kind of cutting it close unfortunately. Maybe I won't be able to go. Though I badly need the break I'm not sure if I can manage it financially.

Adventure. That's what I need. I'm not talking about a big adventure or a mischievous one that is reminiscent of my youth. My needs for adventure have been much simpler in the past couple of years. I just need out. I need to express myself in a way that can't be expressed by pen, paper, keyboard, words or song. I just need outdoors. I just need out to see the world for just even a glimmering moment perhaps. I'm not picky. Just anything. I need something that reminds me that life doesn't always have to be so hard, so tiring  and so demeaning. I need something to remind me that there is some joy out there. I need a reminder that I should keep going no matter how worn my spirit and now matter how difficult the journey. I just need a reminder. A sign. Something to show me that a shred of what makes me human still exists. Something to show me that I'm not just an empty shell coasting along the seas of life. Something that brings me meaning and validation. Is it too much to ask? Am I truly this far lost that this is what it has come to? Or is this just the built up stress talking and I'm just being a baby? I guess I can't say soundly for sure just yet. Either answer isn't simple or pleasant.

For every one hope I have, there is a million doubts cast upon it. For every happy moment I have to remember, there is a thousand more unhappy moments that stick with me more. For every achievement I have, there is trillion failures to overshadow it. More than anything do I want to live up to be the man I've led everyone to believe that I would be. More than anything I would like to believe in the things I thought were possible earlier in life but now seem less possible. More than anything do I wish I had the strength, honor, compassion to carry on like all the people in my life that I admire. Yet despite my strengths, my weaknesses show through. Despite some courage, my cowardice takes over. Despite well meaning intentions, my actions are always weak. Despite my spirit, my strength is underwhelming.

I keep thinking to walk tall and keep my chin up. I keep thinking to keep my head above the water before I drown and am consumed in darkness. I keep thinking to pick myself up again and shake it off. I keep thinking that if I tough it out, it will all be worth it in the end. It turns out that I can't walk very tall, or swim very well, or work up the strength to pick myself up, or summon enough moxy to endure any of this.


I just wish.......I just wish I had more time. More time to enjoy my youth, to see the world, to see my friends, to see my family. Just wish I had more of everything so I never felt deficient in anything. I just wish I had what it took to make people proud of who I am and what I've become. But no wishes will help. No effort will compensate. No skill would be enough. I don't feel ok. I don't feel alright. Nothing is alright. Nothing is ok. I am weak and the world knows it. It's like everyone knows something that I don't. As if everyone gets let in on this grand secret while I'm somewhere else, unaware of the world. As if everyone out there is just waiting for me to "get it" and I never do. I just never get it. I may get close, but I just never seem to get what everyone else knows. What everyone else is talking about. Am I really that oblivious? Am I really that inept and stupid? I hope that I'm wrong.


Even Bambi got back up when he got shot by a deer rifle at the end of the movie. How is it that I'm weaker?

Sappy Condolences

There was an article on the local news that announced a young teenage girl had tragically died while being playfully buried in the sand. The next article about this same incident detailed how her friends felt about her, in which they described her as an "amazing" person. While this is tragic and I do not doubt that her friends and family feel that she was an amazing person, I can't help but think of how sappy this is. Of course they are going to think she was an "amazing person." I have yet to stumble upon an obituary or similar article where friends and family were quoted as calling the person "average.

In light of this epiphany, I wouldn't mind being the first person to be quoted as "average" in an article about my death. I can see it now. Headline: "Friends remember the life of young man as 'adequate'" I would like to be something of a pioneer in the field of brutal obituaries. No sap or bullshit. Just facts or bland statements that people aren't used to seeing in obituaries. Ideally, I would like a few one liners in there that quote me as "good enough, I guess" and "strove for mediocrity and got it." Oh yes, the possibilities are endless for the fun you can have with this. It would be most excellent.


Anywho, I started this blog at a different time of the day when the idea was fresh in my head. But I got distracted by something else I had to do. Now that I've come back to finish this, it's not the same. So I'm just going to end it here before it feels like I'm trying too hard to be funny.

You're welcome, loyal reader.

The Isolation I Always Wanted is Hampering Me: Screw You, Irony

I'm at a campus building I don't normally go to because of the distance from my house. But I had to come here in order to participate in a group project for school. The project was over rather quickly and I still had another member of the group to meet up with later. So I decided to stay and get some homework done. It seemed like an excellent idea. This building practically has no one in it. It's awesome. I'm currently the only person on the entire floor. This is the kind of stuff I enjoy. This is what introverts dreams are made of. Being completely alone, unbothered by everyone and everything. The internet is fast. The temperature is a little cool but not bad. I have coffee and a 5-Hour Energy Shot on hand to help supply me with an artificial sense of "giving a shit." It's well lit. The building is nice and scenic. I have healthy foods to snack on (No fattening pastries for my fat ass).

All the ingredients for optimal productivity are here. And yet, I can barely concentrate. It's like I can't mix the ingredients and put them in the oven. My mind wanders. My gaze shifts towards the surroundings around me. I keep looking behind me, as if someone was going to randomly sneak up and assassinate me or steal my worthless belongings. I keep thinking about irrelevant crap. I'm supposed to be on task today! Yet, any attempt I make towards productivity is ultimately sandbagged by me.

My Semi Full Proof 10 Step Solution:
1. Write a blog about this problem.
2. Ignore viable solutions for this problem. If I implement solutions, I'll actually have to get back to work on homework I couldn't care less about.
3. Drink more caffeine in hopes that it has enough magical properties to solve the problem for me.
4. Set up my study desk as if I am about to do productive, important work.
5. Gaze around the building some more. Maybe I'll bore myself back to productivity.
6. Give myself an empty pep talk.
7. Daydream about being a benevolent dictator who abolishes homework and dates shallow supermodels as a hobby.
8. Outline my already well established work-out schedule for the week in case I get amnesia later.
9. Try not to be frustrated by my lack of progress on a full proof 10 step solution.
10. Concoct a full proof 22 step solution for writing an effective full proof 10 step solution.


At least I have plan.

That's better than all the worthless hippies participating in any protest in recent memory, right? Certainly better than both presidential candidates combined.

The Library is Colder Than My Soul

This library is freezing. On the one hand, it keeps me awake and somewhat concentrated. On the other hand, it makes my testes shrink into my abdomen for warmth and my mood extremely irritable. I hate the cold. Even with a jacket I still feel cold. What kind of horrible place is this? I just want to study in comfortable, optimal conditions. Which in my book qualifies as quiet and not fucking cold. If it's too warm, then I just get tired and crave ice cream which would be counterproductive to my studying cause. If it's too loud, I can't concentrate and just feel the urge to start kicking ass and punching [others] genitals. The conditions have to be just perfect for optimal efficiency. Well lit, quiet, warm but not hot or cold, preferably by a window, a pastry on hand with a back-up pastry, copious amounts of caffeine readily available and quick internet access. These are optimal conditions for studying for me. But I have found that most of the time I have to just settle for quiet. Everything else is just a bonus.

Since I'm freezing, irritated and hungry, the productivity in my studying has dropped to new lows today. To combat this problem, I have elected to write a useless blog detailing my pointless struggle. With a little luck, writing about it will set my mind free and set me back on track towards productivity. Nothing helps me feel better quite like clogging up the internet with a boring and useless blog.

Could I have possibly written a better blog? Perhaps. A few subjects come to mind that might have made a better blog topic than this. Such as my literal near death experience on the freeway, my school progress, my thoughts on Fall, or maybe even a humorously relevant subject. But no, you get this rambling writing that serves little meaning. Lucky you.

Anywho, that's all I feel like writing for now. Maybe I will come back to post a better topic in the future.

Maybe.

I Miss The 80's

Not the decade of the 80's of course. That would be stupid since I lived just barely 4 semi-conscious years of that glorious decade. I'm talking about the temperature. We've already started to cool down to a mean 60-something degrees while the nights have now reached freezing conditions. Now I have to wear a jacket and prepare for cold weather again. I hate that. One of my favorite parts about Summer is that you don't have to worry about that kind of crap. You just simply walk out the door with whatever you're wearing. There is no confusion or worries about getting cold.

On the flip side, I do kind of wish I had spent more time in the 80's decade. So many great things happened in the 80's. I'm severely conflicted on what age group I would have liked to have enjoyed the 80's in. If I was kid. Let's say maybe 5 by 1980, I could reap the benefits of all those sweet 80's cartoons. So many classics were birthed in that time period. I have often wished that I was a kid when those were around. I could just picture myself enjoying the sweet embrace of those glorious TV programs, being so content. Then by the time I hit high school, I could enjoy the turbulent grungy 90's rock scene. Not mention I could enjoy the original Nintendo. That was some cool shit back then. It still is cool.

Yeah. That would be the sweet ticket.

But then what if I wanted to enjoy the 80's while in high school like my dad did. I would be old enough to enjoy all the rock classics of the time. I could enjoy having a mullet without scrutiny.  I could enjoy eating pizza at an actual pizza parlor. I could enjoy arcades and 80's movies that had little original thought to them. Damn, what a sweet time to be alive.

Being an adult in the 80's would have sucked. you would see all these crazy "hip" things changing the world you knew and loved. Video games, tv shows with more ethnically diverse characters. That would be some scary shit if you grew up in the 60's and 70's.


I digress.

The point is, I miss the warm weather already and it's only the beginning of October. That's some bad ju-ju. Bad fuckin' ju-ju.

Magical Mid-Terms Rant

Nearly a year ago today, I wrote a small blog about mid-terms. I'm currently in the midst of these tests. It's not so bad this year. However, once again, it has forced me to bring up the issue of parking.

Unbeknownst to me previously, mid-term tests have the magical capability of luring people who haven't attended class so far, back to class to take incredibly hard tests. It's almost a joke. Every mid-term is the same. The two weeks leading up to mid-terms, the parking is fantastic because a lot of people stop coming to class due to dropping out. But the week of mid-terms, people start coming back to take the tests out of fear that they may somehow fail the class. Where the fuck is the logic in that? You're not coming to class, taking notes, turning in assignments and other stuff class requires you to do. Yet, when you hear that a test that is worth 20-50% of your grade is coming, you suddenly decide to show up, study and take the test with some sort of vague hopes that it will prevent you from utter failure? Am I crazy or does that sound incredibly stupid? I feel like these people know something that I don't. Can they really cram for a mid-term for a class they have not otherwise participated in and still somehow earn a passing grade? If so, how?

My point is, the days of getting an awesome parking spot close to the school are over for about a week. All because dumbass jack-offs feel compelled to study at the last second in a library they hardly respect. I want my good parking spot back! Walking a little further to get to classes and the library is simply too much to ask from me at this point. I'm stressed out as it is. Getting a shitty parking spot due to these assholes is enough to almost throw me over the edge.


Ok. Rant over.


For now.

Jobs That I Only Wish Could Be Mine In Alternate Realities

As I was filling out a personality test and self-evaluation, I came across a question that I have addressed in this blog before. What other jobs have you considered? To name a few: writer, pilot, career military, law enforcement, rock star, etc.

What if I had some other cool job choice? A job where I wouldn't have to work as hard. Or maybe a job where it's a different type of "hard work." Such as an Elvis impersonator  That's not hard, per se. I doubt it takes that much effort to dress like The King, look like The King, and adopt similar mannerisms. I think the hardest part of that job would be living up to Elvis. Think about it. That's your job. To be someone else. Kind of. That's it. That is your career. Your sole purpose in life is to follow the exact footsteps of someone' else's already successful career. Nice.

Acting would be a sweet gig if you were successful. Being "good" at acting isn't exactly a prerequisite for being successful in the field either (Bonus!). There are plenty of horrible actors who get paid obscene amounts of money to do what they do. How awesome is that? You show up on set, have a few of the snacks, make people do your bidding, have an inflated sense of importance, say a few memorized lines based on your crummy interpretation of the writer's script. What is there not to like? That's hardly work at all. I can't stand to hear actors whine about how hard it is to do all these things. Boo-fucking-hoo. "I'm overpaid and the pressure to be entertaining and good looking is too much for my rippling deltoids to handle."
Yeah. I could handle that.

I've previously mentioned writing as a prospective career in the past. I don't think I could write anything cool or noble like some of the great classical or modern writers out there. My writing would likely be low brow in nature. Not that I'm incapable of writing deep, complex or serious material. But I enjoy writing humorous material far more than anything else. A career derived of writing poorly thought out dick jokes would be the life for me. Not to mention my other low brow sub-specialties of humor that include, but are not limited to: poop jokes, sex jokes, mean jokes, tasteless jokes, offensive jokes and so forth. I try to cover the spectrum. I could do that. I wouldn't know where to begin with such a career so I haven't tried. I've also never been convinced that career choice would necessarily make me happy either. But in an alternate universe, I could see myself as being happy with that decision.

I'm all for lazy high paid work. I'm also a huge fan of obscure work that you rarely hear anyone ever take credit for. I've always entertained the thought that somewhere out there, during the Christmas party season, is a guy in a bad sweater who casually brags that he is the successful owner of a factory the manufactures dice and/or phone cords. That's it. That's the only thing his factory produces. And he owns it and runs it on a successful high paid salary. I could do that. Someone has to, right? Perhaps I could operate a factory that only produces the top hat for the Monopoly board game or maybe a factory that produces silver handles for a Swedish kitchen apparel company. The options are limitless on what kind of factory I could own and operate for inoccuous and under-appreciated objects.



That's right, I'm back to wasting your time with all the energy I can muster. You missed it, didn't you?

Sure you did.



Happy October.

The Long Days Are Going Away

When I was out and about yesterday, I noticed the sun was practically gone by 7:30 at night. It felt much later than it was. I thought for sure the time was somewhere around 9 o'clock. Gone are my long days and nights. No more sunrise at around 5:45. No more sunset at 9:30. To compound that thought, I got to my car this morning only to notice frosty condensation had built up all around my car. My breath was also now visible. Winter is slowing marching it's way up to my mental doorstep. What a dick. I feel like this year my days have lasted the longest. Maybe it was because I was making the most out of them. But now that the sunlight is being cut short, I feel like I'm being robbed of time and life.

For right now, I'm taking a break from schoolwork. I have little over a week and a half until my half block semester ends. I can have my Saturday mornings back. I can have my Tuesday and Thursday mornings back. No more early bullshit. Frankly, I can't be more excited. I've been running off of high quantities of coffee and 5-Hour Energy shots. Too much caffeine makes me edgy, irritable and angry. I'm super impatient with everything. It's my hope that I'll start getting more and better quality sleep after this semester block is done. Hopefully I'll consume less caffeine as a result.

But until then, I must run on artificial energy and consciousness.

Now back to the soul-sucking coursework.

Inspiration and Such

For a school project, I was asked to interview someone who was in a career I was interested in. I immediately elected to interview one of the doctors I work with. At first I thought the assignment was just a bullshit busy work kind of deal. It forces hermit introverts like myself to interact in uncomfortable, planned conversation. This actually turned out to be a really positive assignment for me. Our talk was deep and intellectual in levels I wasn't quite prepared for. I wasn't treated as an inconvenience, but rather as a person. I got so much information out of it. I was shocked. What made it more valuable is that it made me a contact that I could use in the future. Yes, the assignment had served the purpose it said it would. I hate it when school work assignments are smugly relevant. It was highly motivational and inspirational. I feel good about this whole thing still. I guess I can keep on going with the path I'm on now.

In other news, my first half semester block is almost finished. I can hardly wait. I can feel the burnout becoming stronger with each passing day. Losing a couple of these dead weight classes will be a burden lifted off my mind. I'm also currently sick with a minor cold. Which pisses me off. Again, I am tied with last years record with being sick 3 times in a year. I've been hoping to tie my best record of only being sick twice in a year. I guess it could be worse. I could be catastrophically sick with some horrible illness that destroys my ability to participate in school, work and social life. That would really screw me over. For now, it's a minor sinus congestion that is bothering me just enough to not go to the gym.

I'm hoping to go to San Diego at the end of October with my dad. I could really use that sweet vacation away from school, work and everything else in between. After that, I have a sweet trip to Seattle in November to see one of my good friends. This is all exciting and all, but I realized that if I can successfully go on both of these trips, this will be the most I have traveled within a year since I was 18. Kind of sad. I hoped to travel a lot more in my 20's. I guess I just haven't made as much time for it as I would have liked. Oh well, that can be easily remedied.


That's all the info you get today.

The Quarterback Of My Own Reality

Lately, I've been watching a ton of football. This is something I have not done in years largely due to my schedule. This year I decided to make room for it. I've really enjoyed watching the games again. I forgot how much I enjoyed it. I also forgot how horrible it is to become so emotionally invested in a team and to feel shitty when they lose. I really hate that part. It's part of the reason why I stopped keeping up with sports. It sucked hearing about your favorite team getting it's ass kicked every week.

Any case, I keep seeing things in football terms. I keep making football analogies in conversations with other people. I make football analogies in my head to figure out small things. I don't know why this has been such a  comfort for me to do. Recently, I've been comparing myself to a quarterback. Making the decisions on the play and making them happen. Leading the way to hopeful victory. Yes, there I am waiting to receive the ball from the center. The ball gets to my hands. I look around looking for a receiver. It's a long shot but I think I can do it. The receiver goes deep and I throw the ball as hard as I can. It's going, going, going and.............the receiver missed it.............Which translates to that missed IV I wasn't sure I was going to get in this heroin-addicted patient or gambling on finding a better parking spot than the one I just passed. I'm a lousy quarterback it turns out. I fumble a lot and have a lot of incomplete passes. But on occasion I can get a sweet touchdown after marching down the field gradually rather than throwing ridiculous hail mary's all day.

In real life I would make a horrible quarterback. I'm barely capable of throwing a football more than 35 feet without tearing my rotator cuff. I always wanted to play football as a kid but my dad wouldn't allow it. He always feared I would get permanently injured. By the time he finally gave the green light for me to play football, it was too late. I had given up on my sports ambitions and moved on to music. I would have never been able to hack it in football. I was tiny back then. I would have gotten crushed by bigger dudes. My spirits would have been equally crushed by the competitiveness and trash talking that ruined sports for me.

The point I'm trying to get across through all this random shit is that I love football.


So there. Now you know.

Let's Talk About Real Shit

I haven't posted in 6 months. As it turned out, my blog had reached a much wider audience than I had previously thought. A few people were reading my blog whom I wished had not. For a while I dabbled in the thought of just deleting this blog. But I couldn't let go of all the posts that were in here. So many memories. So much to reflect on. So I decided to take a hiatus from writing here until I felt like I needed/or wanted to write again. I've been writing in a private journal on my I-Pad in the meantime, which has helped me fight off the writing bug for a while.

Lately, I've felt compelled to come back and write here. However, I have some filters in place now to keep some of my undesired audience out. It has it's drawbacks. On the one hand, I like having a broad audience who enjoy reading my blog. On the other hand, there are just some things some people shouldn't know about me. Which obviously begs the question, why write on here at all? I guess it's just a good outlet for me to write whatever I want. Funny, serious, stupid, pointless. Doesn't matter. I like having writings like this to reflect on later. Writings that will always be here. My more private journal on my I-Pad is mostly a house for my deepest thoughts, feelings and doubts that no other person but myself should see.

I'm excited to come back, albeit it to a very limited number of readers. But that's ok. If you're reading this, congrats on being the elite few selected to read my general bullshit.

Anywho, I bet you're wondering what's new with me, right? To put it flatly, not a whole lot. My Summer was filled with warm nights, good times, adventures and fishing. Nothing off the top of my head comes to mind that needs to be written about here. It was a pretty basic Summer. I didn't go to school over the Summer like I wanted. But on the up-side I got my car paid off and got a little bit more of my shit together.

I'm back in school this fall, which has been nice. I decided to take some accelerated courses to help expedite my way through my education. It has been rather intense and stressful on me. Thankfully, after the 9th of October, I'll have 2 less classes to worry about. But until then, I'll have to try my best to not let the stress of it all eat me alive. Once again, I've also had to go back to the gym to shed some weight. I seem to go through cycles of being a fat ass and back to being an in-shape skinny bastard. Currently, in my progress I'm halfway in between both mediums. Which sucks. But progress is progress I suppose.


Anywho, that's it from me for now. I'll do better towards posting here. It definitely won't be as often as last year. But expect more posts.

Trying To Be Nice

For my New Years resolution this year, I wanted to try to be a better person. I know that's a rather ambiguous goal but I had a few subgoals that defined it. I wanted to be nicer to people. I wanted to be more likeable. I wanted to smile more often. I wanted to be friendlier to people, even if I didn't like or know them. I wanted to try to be more openminded. I wanted to be more outgoing.

These are good things to strive for as I have a somewhat difficult time with most of these. I have worried greatly that I'm not a good or likeable person. Sure, I have good close friends. But I worry that I'm disliked or hated because of my awkward traits.

Yesterday I had a thought that really brought me down a few notches and brought me back to this goal. I thought to myself "Would I be friends with me if I were someone else?" Or even "Would I even like me if I was someone else?" To both questions I answered to myself "Probably not." Thinking of how awkward and unintentionally stern I can be, I reasoned that I wouldn't like me. I would probably think I was an arrogant prick or some weirdo. I don't want to be that guy. There are a couple of people I work with who are just loved by everyone. They have that magnetic personality that I wish I had. I wish it was easy for me to be nice to every single person. I mean openly genuinely nice. Nice small talk. Warm smile. Caring attitude. It's difficult for me to be genuinely nice to strangers. It's hard for me to have nice small talk that shows that I care or at least creates the illusion thereof.

I want to be better. I want to be nicer. I want to care. I don't want to come off as a weird arrogant asshole. It shouldn't be so hard for me to be genuinely nice to people I don't know or care about. It sounds awful and that's because it is. I don't want to be that person.

I will try harder to do this. I've been trying with some success, but I can do better.

The Wind Through My Hair and Heavy Metal

Driving home from work on Sunday was a liberating experience. The sun was still shining at 6 pm. It was perfect weather. Everything seemed so calm and still. 

I jumped in my car and headed towards the freeway. Towards home. There was hardly anyone on the roads. I didn't hit a single red light. I put on my sunglasses, rolled down all the windows in my car and searched for the perfect driving music. I had energy for some reason, even though work and the loss of one hour of sleep due to the Daylight Savings switch had exhausted me. I needed something that catered to this pent up reserve of energy..............Metal?...........Heavy metal. I like metal but I rarely crave listening to it. But it seemed perfect. I put it on shuffle and trusted my I-Pod to choose what metal songs I needed. My I-Pod didn't disappoint. With absolute precision, every song chosen was perfect for my mood. 

I drove down the freeway practically all by myself. There was hardly a vehicle on the road. I stepped on the gas driving at speeds I rarely see on my speedometer. The sun was shining down on me. The wind was blowing through my hair. My favorite metal songs blasted in the background. The thrill of the speed recharged my spirits. I can't describe it, but I felt......free. Life felt like it should feel; free of worry. Exhilarating. Liberated. For the 15 minutes I was driving home, I felt alive. All I wanted to do was keep on driving. Drive somewhere I've never been. Discover something I didn't know was there before. Listen to music until my heart got it's fill. Feel the wind through my hair just a little longer. Feel the sun on my face until the moon greeted my eyes.  

But I couldn't. I had a real life to return to. I had people to see. Things to do. Tasks that needed my attention. My real life could not go unattended. It needed me more. I needed it more. 

I realized that this time was not the last opportunity I had to feel this feeling. Summer was on it's way and I could feel all this again. My hair would be shorter by then. But all the same, I could replicate this experience as I do every Summer. 

Soon. Very soon. I can have this for months at a time. 

Another Sun Blog

Every year, I write a blog about how much I love the sun. I write about it most when it's out during Winter and Spring. Today will be no exception. The sun is out. It's warm and I feel good.

It won't hurt my feelings to have an early Spring come along. Screw Winter. I hate the snow. Every time I have to shovel snow, I'm reminded about how much I long for a time when the coldest temperature is 78 degrees. Sure it's only 50 degrees out right now. But in two days it will be 62 degrees. That's F-ing wonderful! Warm weather is on it's way. Sunshine, sun rays, sunny weather, sunny everything is coming soon.

Sorry the for the lack of posts on this blog. All my efforts have been going towards my Mustache blog this month.

The Heart Shouldn't Do the Thinking

For some reason, I gave a lot of thought to the phrase "Follow your heart." Typically, this comes down to following your instinct, your desires, your passions, and sometimes your complete unfiltered wants. Are any of these things alone good enough to act on and if so, is it worth it? For most people and realistically speaking, probably not.

Hear me out, all you naysayers. The heart wants a lot of things. My heart when I was a teen wanted too much. My heart desired girls that I couldn't have. The way hot ones that only dated douches. Given enough effort it might have been possible but it would have fizzled out or changed me for the worst (or unlikely maybe better, who knows). My heart desired to play music for the rest of my life despite not having a band. I wanted to dedicate my life to playing rock music. Something I thought was totally reasonable because it was my passion; I loved doing it. My heart desired not finishing high school because it seemed like an easier way. School was hard. This way I could dedicate my life to music. My heart desired cars that went fast and nothing else. My heart desired love that only focused on me and nothing else. Are any of these things that good?

The girls my heart desired were solely based on physical attraction. And the ones my heart desired that weren't based on attraction alone were out of reach (taken, crazy, too tall, too crazy, etc) But I wanted them. All the advice I got was to "follow my heart" or "trust your instincts." My heart and instinct told me they were right. How wrong they were. Failure, disappointment and heartbreak. How could my heart lead me astray when it seemed so right?

I wanted to play the drums for the rest of my life. Nothing wrong with that really. Only problem was that it's super rare that it amounts to anything. Music is an amazing thing, but there is no money in it unless you get rich from it, also rare. I would be relegated to low level jobs that led to unhappiness. But my heart loved and seemed to beat for music. How could it be wrong? How can anything so good be even a little bad for me and my adult life? I look now at people who stuck with the music path and realize how sad their lives seem. They lead a stressful life full of false hope of getting to be a big and famous. Yet, year after year there is nothing but disappointment and financial problems. Just another year of plugging your band to people who largely don't care. But the heart wants to continue because it's good, right?

I wanted to drop out of school and dedicate my life to music. My heart knew this was the right thing to do. Only by following my heart could I be happy. This impulsive thought that my heart knew was the right thing for me. I wanted to follow my passion. The only way I could do that was by letting go of the dead weight that I thought was school. Luckily my dad would have none of that. How could I go against what my heart wanted? It felt so wrong because I thought I knew what my heart wanted was right.


The truth of the matter is that the heart isn't always right. Living in the impulse doesn't always lead to good things or lead you to "getting it right." On some occasions, it may take you to people and places that you never thought possible. But figuratively (and anatomically) the can't do the thinking. Careful thought, logical thought, time and maturity are all components to better paths. So many people think they are following what's right because it feels good now when later it usually ends up hurting them. Sure, there are those rare success stories of following one's heart faithfully and getting it right. But I assure you that it's rare it works out 100% of the time. Many argue that even if it doesn't turn out it taught them something so the heart is right. Maybe. But careful and timely thought may have let them jump to that conclusion ahead of time rather than living through it painfully. This can be said of relationships where the person wasn't right or a career that leads no where.

Thought and logic are obviously not full-proof. They can still lead to hard roads and failure. But I would rather choose that rather than following my pure wants. Otherwise I might still be working an unsatisfying job while playing in an untalented band, while being embarrassingly uneducated, while being sadly unsuccessful, while having been in a several bad relationships, while being constantly financially strapped, while owning cars that hardly work, while dreaming of a future my heart wants but could statistically be.

My heart has good intentions. But most of the time, it doesn't think through what is actually possible and good for me in the long run.

Homework Took Advantage of Me

For Valentines Day, I had a long date with studying at school. I'm pretty sure I got date-raped............date-raped of my social life. How did I get date raped of my social life? It was simple. I should have realized it and should have been suspicious at the time. I was lured to the school library under the pretenses of getting work done so I could get good grades. It turned out to be more than I bargained for. I just kept reading and reading. There was so much material. I felt a little woozy and tired. What was going on? Before I knew it 7 hours had gone by! Where did the time go? What just happened? How could I have lost track of time so easily? I don't remember a thing! I tried to remember the last thing I did. I remember sitting down at a desk. I remember placing my water bottle on the desk then leaving to use the restroom and then after that, nothing.................Oh no, someone or something spiked my water! I shouldn't have left my water unattended. I suspect my homework was the one that slipped something fizzy into my water bottle. The homework was the only thing close enough to have access to my drink. 

How could I have been such a fool? I trusted this homework that I didn't know very well and instead it date-raped me. Seven hours of my life are now gone that I don't remember and I have nothing to show for it except for a sore ego and small social life. 

Damn you, homework! Damn you!

Date-rape metaphor jokes. Just another sign that my quality of writing is degrading further. 

[Sad]

My Dream Job Is To Be A Secretary

Last night I had a dream that I was a secretary for the hospital I work at. Not like a secretary of treasury or anything. But like an old time kind of secretary, or "executive assistant" as they preferred to be called now. Apparently, the life of being a lowly ER tech was too much and I decided a life of Excel spreadsheets and answering phones was the life for me instead. My job was pretty vague. I worked with a bunch of old nurses and some guy who insisted on calling all of us "ladies." As the token male, I was slightly offended by that.

Anywho, the dream takes a turn for the weird. Some young guy passes out in the department I'm in and the old nurses go to work on him poorly. I try to help but they keep pushing me out of the way. They shock the guy with a defibrillator twice even though he is conscious and has a rhythm. I protest but they simply shrug off my suggestions and tell me I don't know what I'm doing. The guy dies somehow, and I go back to work staring at a blank computer screen. I decide that I need a break and go to the roof of the hospital. There is a zip-line that goes back and forth between the hospital and the parking structure across the street from it. I race across it repeatedly. I am completely unaware and unafraid of the fact that if I let go of the handlebars I would plunge to a horrible death. Normally, I'm terrified of heights. In this case, an unsupervised zip-line with no harnesses doesn't scare me at all. Ironically, tempting death outside of a hospital is a relaxing break-time activity. That's basically all I remember.

I have no idea where this idea came from. The zip-line thing I'm sure came from a Super Bowl commercial I saw recently. But the secretary thing is way out of left field. Not that there is anything wrong with being a secretary. I just could never see myself trading the job I do now for a job where I sit on my ass and take orders from a corporate asshole.

Crazy, ay?

Warm Weather, How I Missed You!

54 Degrees Fahrenheit.

In February.

Right now.

Is there anything better?

It doesn't seem that warm, but compared to the other days it feels like Summer. A light zip-up sweater is all I need. It's been nice to bask in the Sun's deadly rays while taking notice that there is no visible snow to be found (except for the mountains). It's a teaser for the warm awesomeness that is up and coming. Soon I can fish whenever I feel the need. Soon I can hop on my bike and ride as long as I want. Soon I can wear shorts and a t-shirt without worrying whether it will cause me to freeze my balls off when I walk outside.

Aside for my love for the temporary warm-ish weather, here is what else has been going on. Today I bought a Costco card so I can finally join the rest of the nation in worship of the false idol wholesale goods. I bought one 6 years ago when I moved out with my buddies, but we never used it. I was too young to fully appreciate the awesomeness of the Costco. Now that I have access to one, I can't help but stand in awe of the wondrous food emporium with bad parking.

A couple of days ago, I was convinced by my friend to go out and fish the Jordan River. At first I was hesitant since I had a lot of studying to do. (I have a lot of studying to do now.) But I took it as an opportunity to take a much needed break and an excuse to fish for the first time in over a month. I didn't catch anything except for a boot, a corpse, a turd and a bunch of sticks. Actually, all I caught were sticks that had sunk to the bottom. Unfortunately, I didn't catch anything as cool as a boot, a corpse or a turd but that's what you would expect to catch out of that dirty old river. I had a lot of good bites that I couldn't hook. So that sucked. However, the most positive aspect of the trip is how much it relieved the pent up stress I had built up. With each cast, I felt like I was casting away all my stresses, doubts and unnecessary worries. A pressure I had noticed in my chest lately was gone. (I hope that was more of a mental pressure representing my stress rather than plaque in my aorta getting released and trapped somewhere else in my body....like my brain.) I didn't care if I caught anything at all, it was just nice to be out.

That's basically it.

Half-Victory

As predicted, the parking lot at school finally opened up due to large amounts of people presumably dropping out! It was a magnificent sight to see. As I drove through the aisles in search of a good spot, I noticed how many wonderful spots were actually available. Exactly one week ago at about the same time, I had to park in the back and then hike in the windy cold to the library. Today, I got premium front row parking with plenty of stalls to spare. Today was going to be a grand day! I could feel it. I happily trotted into the library only to find the library was full of people. What just happened?! I parked next to the library where there were a ton of open spots and yet this building is full?

I went upstairs to find a private desk to study at, which was easy enough but the place was still crowded. I opened up my laptop to begin my homework only to find that I had no internet access. A message popped up telling me that the servers were overloaded with the sheer amount of people using it at one time. You bastards! I needed the internet to do my homework since the material is only accessible online. To add to the pain. the class is a computer information course. Internet is necessary. There is no way to wing it without it.

I took a swig of my coffee. There was a bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn't the coffee. No, it was the bitter taste of defeat! My parking victory felt hollow. I drove all this way to study and use the internet only to get screwed. Since when are this many people at the library? Since fucking never, that's when!

I decided to do math homework instead despite the fact I desperately needed to get computer homework done. Sure, I could have relocated somewhere else to use internet, like back to home or a coffee shop. But that would require travel time and gas money that I don't have. It was best that I stay in one place and just deal with it. I needed to save the gas and money until I get paid this weekend.

As I look out the window, the parking lot is actually getting more empty, and somehow there is the same amount if not more people here in the library. Luckily, I have gained access to the internet again but am now using my time unwisely. At any minute, my internet can just give out and tell me the server is overloaded again. I will have wasted my precious homework time writing this useless blog. I would be forced to do more math homework until the internet comes back so I can continue writing this blog instead of doing my computer homework.




Sometimes, you just can't win.

Old Buildings Eventually Go Down

As I was driving to school to study, I noticed an old building by my home was being torn down. It had been there for years, standing vacant. When I was a kid growing up, it was a large strip mall that supplied much of my elementary and middle school adventures. These buildings used to be a Fred Meyers and an Albertson's grocery store. These places served as my base for getting sodas that only costed a quarter, junk food for video game themed all night sleepovers, and by middle school and early high school it was a constant source of juvenile mischief.

Today I drove past them and saw the Fred Meyers building had most of the walls smashed in by bulldozers. I exclaimed "WHAT THE HELL!?" as I drove by. I don't know why I was shocked. In a way, I was surprised the buildings had not been torn down earlier. But still, to see the building torn down tugged a little at the nostalgic areas of my heart. A standing tribute to my childhood mischief was being torn down. Memories that were made in those buildings would no longer have a physical place of reference. The buildings were ugly and clearly in a state of decay from years of not being in use. Yet, somehow I always expected them to be there as a homage to my youth and a symbol of good times now long since passed.

I would like to believe that the old childhood friends I grew up with in my neighborhood might feel somewhat nostalgic about it too. I sincerely doubt it, though. Soon it will be a D.I Donation Center. Which I suppose is better than an old decaying building. But in my mind the new building will forever lack the stories made by me and my friends over the years. Stories that include but are not limited to:

• Being permanently banned from Fred Meyers after years of juvenile terrorism. From basketball in the toy section, to making kids toys designed to help youngsters spell and sound out words say obscene words with the volume on high. Eventually, the managerial staff had enough. They took mine and my friends pictures, and said if we stepped foot on the property again the authorities would be called for trespassing and would subsequently go to jail. 

• Buying my first pack of condoms in the 8th grade. Don't worry, I wasn't using them for their intended purpose as I barely understood what that was at the time anyway. Instead, I purchased them and proceeded to put them on random mufflers in the parking lot, which would cause them to fill with CO2 then explode. I also enjoyed making small talk with the clerk when buying them, acting shamelessly proud and prodding for any sort of reaction of disgust. 

• Skateboarding all over the property which usually involved taking horrible crashes and then limping back home. 

In truth, there is too many to bullet point and I am too lazy and too pressed for time to put more. I guess I'll just have to leave everyone wondering as to what kind of adventures took place. 

Parking and Mustaches

Every semester I forget how bad I hate the first month of school. It's not because it's going to school. I actually enjoy it for the most part. The thing that bugs me the most about the first month is how ridiculous the parking is. It's just atrocious. No parking for as far as the eye can see. This is expected at all colleges. However, in a uniform fashion across all schools, after the first month people start dropping out like crazy. People just suddenly stop showing up for some reason or the other, and it's awesome. Suddenly, parking isn't so bad. There is actually some decent places to put your car. I don't have to park at the end of campus only to walk to the other end for class. Parking has gradually improved now that 3 weeks have passed. But its aggravating fighting for parking with assholes who will just drop out in a month anyway. In another month the parking will be so good, I won't have to wake up early to get a spot that doesn't force me to hike with a mountain pack full of survival supplies in case I get lost or can't make it to my destination in under a day.

Yes. A blog about parking. That just happened.

But wait! There's more!


I can't remember if I mentioned that I'm preparing for the prestigious holiday month of Mustache March. I could simply check my blog to see what I have written recently. I won't be doing that however. Even if I'm being repetitive, at least I'm adding content to my sparse 2012 blog. Anywho, I am getting ready for Mustache March which starts in 30 days. In case you aren't familiar with this grand month-long holiday or have not had the pleasure of personally witnessing this event for yourself, then I will fill you in. Mustache March is a 31 day period by which men on their own volition grow out their mustaches regardless of their ability grow one. In preparation for this grand month, I am growing out my hair as I did for the last Mustache March I participated in. Why? If I don't grow out my hair, everyone assumes I speak Spanish which is usually followed by some vaguely racist jokes. With the longer, shaggy hair it looks more natural. I look like a natural dirtbag. In truth, I hate growing out my hair. Especially this year because it looks like crap. It's an uncontrollable mop. Without the mustache backing me up, I just look like a young guy who is slowly giving up on life. With the mustache, I look like a dirtbag who is too relaxed to care about anything. I would rather go with the dirtbag approach, but alas, I cannot grow out the 'stache for another month.


That's all for now folks.

Laziness

Well it's been quite a while since I've blogged about anything. It's been almost a month since my last blog, which was just a end of year recap. Before that blog, I hadn't posted in weeks either. I've been both busy and lazy. That combination itself makes it pretty difficult for me not to write. But here is a quick recap.

In December, my dad was hospitalized for days with an exacerbation of his kidney failure. It couldn't have happened at a worst time. My stress had peaked to new levels. During this time, I had finals that week to be prepared for with major projects due. Then I had a bunch of crap at work I had to do. I had to pick up more work at home to keep my mom from stressing out. Fortunately, everything turned out ok. After finals, I picked up shifts at work for the first time in six months. I needed the money to pay for Christmas gifts and to pay for the next semester. That sucked hardcore. There was some relief in sight. My good friends Kevin and Jeff came in to town for a couple of weeks. Me and all my friends got together one night, had a couple of beers and watched some tv. We talked, we bantered, we just hung out. It was like old times again. As if nothing had ever changed, we didn't skip a beat. It was like Kevin and Jeff never left and things were always like this. I missed that feeling. For days, it was just good times and hanging out. It was a nice break I desperately needed. Christmas was nice and relaxing full of good gifts and good food. New Years came around, which was somewhat eventful. We celebrated at Joe and Randi's new house and had fun. Aside from having to pick up my panicked sister on the other side of town and other sideshows, it was a good holiday.

I started a new semester which has been very busy. My semester of math is somewhat depressing. It really brightly highlights my inability to perform basic arithmetic of the 2nd grade level. I've been hard at work anyway, knocking out classes. No big deal. In fact, as we speak, I am taking a break from the subject. After nearly 4 hours of math homework, I started to get frustrated and decided a break was much in call for.

I went ice fishing for the first time ever, which was ok. I enjoyed myself, but enjoyed the crowds less since we happened to go during a fishing tournament. But on the positive side, I didn't not fall through the ice and plunge to a cold icy death. In speaking of icy, I haven't minded the snow as much as I thought I would. It's been a nice change. However, the pleasantness of the change lost its novelty very quickly. I cannot wait for warmer days. Spring and Summer awesomeness.

Sorry about my lack of posts this month. I'll try to do better and post more often again. I had some ideas to write about, but got too lazy to write them here and shortly thereafter, forgot them. I'll be better.

[I don't] promise.

Goodbye 2011 and Welcome in 2012!

Every year, I start off the New Years Eve blog the same. I always explain that since 2006 I write a new blog recapping the year. Usually before I start writing the new blog, I read the past New Years Eve blogs. It gets me in the mood to write and gives me ideas on how I'm going to structure the new one. It gives me an opportunity to look for changes through the years and reflect how this one is different.


A year ago today, it started off at Joe and Randi's New Years party at their apartment. Kevin and Jeff were back in town for the holiday. All my best friends, except RJ were all under one roof celebrating the new year. I was happy and felt strangely at peace. I then drank the most I have ever drank in my life. I had gulped down Jell-O shots made in a 20 mL syringe like it was no one's business. The rest of the night quickly became a blur of random drunken conversations. I vaguely remember a conversation about politics and healthcare reform while I stumbled about the room. I consumed large amounts of bean dip and before I knew it, I was passed out on a chair. I don't remember much else except for throwing up a lot. I now get sick to my stomach when I even look at Jell-O

January of 2011 started off sad. Kyle's father passed away that month. I felt guilty for having not been there for Kyle up to the days his father wasn't doing so well. I only knew the man by association but he was a good man whom I had always admired. I attended the funeral with much sadness in my heart. Earlier that same month, my friend Jeff's father passed away as well. I never knew him but it hurt me to know how much Jeff was hurting. Later that month, My aunt had a series of debilitating strokes that rocked my Mom's side of the family. School was a struggle with so much going on at once. January was also an intense month of burn-out at work as well.

February was no better. My aunt eventually passed away after a long stay in an ICU. I was unable to attend the funeral. I started to get serious about my education and decided to switch to day shift, hoping it would enhance my quality of life and school performance. I didn't start on day shift for a couple of months after. I dabbled in other fields of work. I thought maybe law enforcement is a way I would want to go, figuring I might be too ignorant for medicine. I eventually shied away from that aspect realizing it was a just a fast way out for my current burn-out.

March wasn't stellar either. I had to stop going to work realizing a fault at the government level screwed over my EMT certification. Long story. I spent all of March not at work. Instead I was doing CME's every day. On the bright side, it gave me some time to adjust to the day schedule. I was supposed to start day shift in March. Now that I had no where to go, I had time to adjust from night shift schedule to a regular person's schedule. I feared for my job. I thought for sure, I would be fired. Eventually, things worked out after 2 weeks of waiting for my papers and tests to go through. I also dabbled in thinking I should go to paramedic school, which I eventually turned away from realizing I would not be happy going this route either. I eventually went back to work by the end of the month doing morning shifts.

April was largely uneventful but good. My dad had a couple of ER visits which was starting to get scary. Working days was a good change. My mood stabilized and I was happier. I was still burned out at work, and needed a vacation badly. I was starting to pull myself together.

May was an eventful month. I had a resolution to be more of an outdoors type person to help keep me in shape. I bought a mountain bike and that rocked. Though I didn't get to ride it as often as I had hoped. I was trying to find more ways to get out and about. The weather constantly put wrenches in my plan. Memorial Weekend came and went, which was fun but it ended up being really cold and snowy.

June also turned out well. Brennon got me back into fishing after a failed trip to Utah Lake. I got heavily invested in it. I stopped picking up extra shifts by this point, which did a lot of good towards maintaining my sanity. Summer started and I felt happy again. I was happy to see the sun and bask in it. I was happy to be outdoors and have a normal sleep schedule.

July was relatively uneventful, but fun. It was full or more fishing trips and enjoying the outdoors with all of my friends. I was happy travelling to new lakes and parts of Utah I had never known about. I felt great but still burned out at work.

In August, I went fishing some more, and hung out with Kevin, while he was in town. His presence was oddly inspiring for me to finish school. I went back to school with a new found love for learning and getting school work done.

September was very much the same. Squeezing in fishing and for the first time, REALLY cracking down in school. I formed study habits and an ethic worthy of school.

October was a busy month. My dad's health had dropped in quality. I had a lot of yard work to do while balancing out school and work. Mid-Terms came and went with success. I was starting to really get a hold of getting better at school.

November was mostly busy with school and working. Fishing became a nice way of releasing stress but my trips had declined due to the weather. Thanksgiving was good. After the holiday things would dip down into a stressful time.

December was a crazy stressful and busy month. I had to prepare for finals while having to take care of projects for work. My dad ended up being admitted to the hospital for renal failure during finals week, which sent my stress levels through the roof. Then I worked nearly 2 weeks straight so I could have money for the holidays. The last week of December was nice with all my friends in town visiting for the holidays. It has felt like old times again.


Despite it's rough beginnings, 2011 was a time for confidence building. Switching to day shift has been one of the best things I have ever done for myself. I credit that for many of the positive changes that have occurred this year. It may seem like it was an uneventful year, but that is a good thing. It wasn't this awful stress ridden year that I hated. I look back on this year in fondness for the change, adventure and the best success I've ever had in school. It brought me closer to my family and friends and everyone who I love. The trials weren't devastating (though very unpleasant) but helpful in some ways. It has been an inspiring year that has shown me what I want in life and who I want to be apart of it. I feel like a better and stronger person this year. I only hope that I can carry out this generally positive attitude to this new year.

2012 is supposed to be when the world ends. I don't believe in that crap. I think 2012 will be the beginning of a path in my life that leads to good times, new hopes and new adventures. It certainly won't be without it's hard times, but I feel like whatever comes at me, won't feel so hard anymore.

Now, on to Joe and Randi's annual New Year's Party that I will blog about one year from now.

Happy New Years!

Taking a Break

Currently, I'm taking a break from writing a terrible final paper. I just had to write something different than contrasting the ideas of two different philosophers. Barf.

So instead, I will tell you about my terrible eating habits. Since about my birthday last month, I have been eating terrible shit. The stress of the holidays and finals have caught up with me. I always eat like shit during finals. In fact, today I had breakfast from McDonald's, 2 donuts from 7-Eleven (working on my third and have a danish as a back up for later on), and 2 cups of coffee. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Gee golly whiz, Johnny! How is that you can eat so much terrible food but still find time to do homework and write a blog without having shit your pants repeatedly?" My thoughts exactly. My superhero-esque colon has the super power of food and fecal retention despite the presence of McDonalds lurking somewhere in my digestive system.

Don't be jealous.

I'm not sure what the back story is to my super-colon but I'm sure it has something to do with being exposed to radiation during my seemingly uneventful birth. Though, I'm admittedly disappointed that my probable radiation exposure didn't do something better for me, like give me super intelligent powers or help me grow an unnecessary limb in an illogical part of my body.

Oh well, I'll take it. My super-colon and I will be taking this show on the road soon. Feed me whatever you want. Beto's. Taco Bell. Applebee's. You name it. My pants will be 100% clean 24 hours post-ingestion of these known laxatives.


Yes, I know. Poop jokes.......... I really am running out of good material to write about.

Time to Rally! Civil War Style!

I'm trying to motivate myself to give a shit and study. The more demotivated I become, the harder it is for me to rally.

Stupid finals.

I feel like I should be taking a new perspective on this. Maybe I should be feeling like a Civil War general losing a tough battle. In a moment of stubbornness, I get off my horse, draw my sword and point towards the enemy lines. This is where I'll take my last stand. I call out the order to "charge." It's my last attempt to rally a lost battle. Maybe the surprise itself will be enough to win it.

I run out ahead of my regiment of soldiers from different backgrounds to lead the way. Some of my soldiers are from my dignity. A large portion are from my will to persevere. Others come from minority groups like my integrity and intelligence. Nonetheless, they are all committed to come together to win. One last stance to make it worth it........

Even if we lose.



Civil War analogies...... Am I so bankrupt of good ideas that I must now borrow from depressing parts of history?

Things Women Lie About

Both genders are bad about lying about something in a stereotypical kind of way. I have compiled a VERY general list of things that women tend to lie about. It's not meant to be malicious, just kind of funny.

5. "The Guy I Meet Would Ideally Have a Great Sense of Humor. That's Very Important to Me, a Guy That Can Make Me Laugh."

This line does give credit to women for not being obscenely shallow, but it's simply just not so. A guy having sense of humor is actually quite low on the list of qualities for prospective male dates. There are a lot of guys out there who are just not capable of humor that wouldn't be able to appeal to any female brain or an autistic man-child. Women seem to find the most un-funny douchebags with the lamest sense of humor ever. At first his awkward jokes are "cute," or "kind of funny." But the novelty wears off when bad jokes get repeated and attempts at witty banter end with uncomfortable silence. I know I'm not a comedian, but I know I'm not entirely impotent (yes, "impotent" is the term I meant to use and I'm sticking to it) in the humor/wit department. If having a sense of humor was so important as quoted by half of my dates, I would have been rolling in the ladies in high school. But it turns out, humor isn't as important as women make it seem. Humor somehow takes a backseat to other inferior qualities such as "dresses nice" or "has a big dong," or "doesn't live in the basement of his deceased mother's house." Pfffffff. Women. Picky, picky!

4. "I Want a Man, Not a Boy!"

This is an admirable goal. Who wants to date a 34 year old guy who plays beer pong with frat guys and wears the latest fashions of the days youth? Nobody except for female douchebags (I don't know the term for female douchebag. The best I can guess is douchebagette.). But the term "man" is as ambiguous as the quest for a man with a "good sense of humor." Some women see the ideal man as the tall muscular fireman, police officer or maybe even a lumberjack. The type of men who are gentle enough to save a kitten but also trample it if it threatens their kids. Others see being a man as being sophisticated and refined. The type of man who is intelligent, takes no joy in dirty jokes and is the ultimate gentleman; the kind that are only seen in bad chick-flick movies, the deep backward south and the UK. Problem is, studies show that women consistently tend to marry the man who has more effeminate characteristics such as enjoying cooking, cleaning, emotionally open and so forth. Some women will argue that "real" men cook, clean and blah blah blah. Nothing wrong with a man like that. However, women are terrible at defining what a man is and often change the definition according to the most recent chick-flick they recently saw or change it when they realize the manly man is a douche, the effeminate dude is too effing annoying and the guy in the middle is too average. You don't want a man or a boy, you want a woman.

3. "Girls Don't Fart or Poop."

This is an obvious lie and I hate it more than I hate flavored coffees. Of course women do. Why would you even think it's cute or funny denying it? I've worked in a hospital for years. I've taken many classes regarding the human anatomy. My experiences and academic knowledge tells me with 100% certainty that yes, girls do indeed fart and poop. I hate it even more when women say, "Oh I do, but it's not as bad as a mans." Yes it can be and sometimes its worse. Bleh. Ladies, you fart and poop and it stinks. Accept it. 

2. "I Like You."


I don't mean "I like you" in the sense of having a crush. I mean "I like you" as in "I like being around you and enjoy your company." Women lie about this all the time directly to the faces of people they despise the most. My question is, why? Why would you do something so contradictory? I have seen this so many times of women of all ages. I would even go so far as to say I see it more than 10 times a week. Not even joking. It happens almost like clockwork every time. A woman or a group of women will be talking more shit than a group of teenage goth girls; then the subject of their bashing will walk by or enter their conversation. The conversation suddenly turns to praise towards the subject.
"Oh hey! How are you? Cute hair! Did you buy that house? Those pants look great! Where did you get them?"
I've heard defenses such as "it's irony" or "tongue-in-cheek sarcasm." My personal favorite is, "I don't want to cause any problems by being mean." Well, let's just say it is just irony and sarcasm but brilliantly acted to seem like a compliment. Let's just say the subject doesn't pick up your use of irony and sarcasm. Does that make it any less mean? Furthermore, if you don't want to be mean or seem mean, it would really help your cause by not talking crap on them in the first place and just keep it to yourself. Eventually, that type of stuff gets out and it sucks. At least have the decency to say to them "You're a bitch and I hate you. The end." Then there would be none of that ironic crap. Just out-in-the-open truth and awesomeness for all to enjoy.


1. "I'm Fine."

Yes, that is the #1 thing women lie about. No, you're not fine! That mad or sad look on your face says otherwise. You're folded arms and silence says quite differently. Then when asked again, "Are you sure you're ok?" This is usually followed by a response that ups the ante "I'm great!"
Blah! No! You're not! How much more of this prodding will it take to get to the core of this? Guys will always assume they are somehow the chief cause of your obvious misery. It will drive them mad until they figure it out. It's [not] a scientific fact!



The moral of this blog is that women are cryptic puzzles that make the Mayans, the Egyptians, and the Bible all look like an easy to solve children's puzzle. Women speak in code where their sentence is not what it really means. Women could actually be the modern day Wind-Talkers of this war. They can talk their cryptic code over the airwaves in enemy territory with complete impunity. No Arab man would be able to decipher it. Arab women wouldn't be allowed to try to translate because of cultural barriers and their relative  oppression in such matters. It would be full-proof in backward undeveloped nations.

Actually, the real moral of this blog is that it's all a joke. It's all meant to be humorous and is not meant to have any sort of sexist undertones.



Just for the record.









[Don't sue me. I'm poor.]

My Musings for the Day

I have to admit, the Winter so far has not been a bitter fight to summer. I've been pleasantly surprised by the lack of snow and copious amounts of sunshine thus far. I have noticed that my Winter disposition is slightly better than it was last year when I was working nights. Still, I notice that I cannot entirely shake off my Winter blues. They always hang on tight until they melt away in the Summer.

On an unrelated note, why do people have wheels on their backpacks? I mean seriously. If you have a back condition, fine. But if you are too lazy to hoist a backpack on your shoulders, that's just ridiculous. Baggage and backpacks greatly differ. Though backpacks can be heavy with books your destinations are probably short  in distance. With luggage, you have to drag heavy bags through a crowded, complicated obstacle course of assholes in a large airport. That makes sense. Drag your luggage. It's probably heavier. But dragging your backpack on wheels? I cannot justify that. That's a new level of laziness I'm just not willing to endorse. The only thing that could possibly make the rolling backpack worse is if it had a built-in heater or cooler in it so you can drag your books and food with you. Don't be lazy, just put the straps on your shoulders and walk the 45 feet to your next class.

On a positive type of update note, my Thanksgiving was good. I worked, ate tons of food, then slipped into a deep food coma the likes of which I have never experienced before. My semester is just about over and I can't be more happy to finish this one and start another one. I have had a most positive semester this time around and hope to carry this momentum on to my future semesters.

On a less positive note, the holidays are here. Christmas music, Christmas decorations, and Christmas "cheer." Yes, it's all here for me to gripe about frequently. I don't love this type of year greatly. I don't love crowded stores. I don't love shopping. I don't love being broke at this particular time of month. I think Christmas is great on paper. An annual holiday dedicated to looking beyond ourselves and buying gifts for those we appreciate most. A holiday dedicated to a time for family and enjoying their company. In reality, Christmas does have those things but is often buried in the stress leading up to the 24 hour event. Buying gifts for family and friends. The money spent, the time wasted fighting douchebags in stores, the worries of not getting the right gift for the right people, or forgetting to get someone a gift. We all stress so hard to have this seemingly magical and cinematic. In the end, the real gratification actually comes from the holiday being over rather than presently enjoying it. The stress and the holiday cheer almost seems forced to me. In many ways that disappoints me. Why is everyone trying so hard to be happy when the actual Christmas day itself is sometimes anticlimactic. Don't get me wrong, I like getting gifts for people and I like to receive gifts myself. But the stress of it all takes away the good elements that we, as society, try so hard to promote and live up to. Maybe my holiday cynicism is the buzzkill for myself. After it's all said and done, I'll be more happy that it's over with and I can continue on with my life not worrying about it for another 11 months.

On a more positive note, my break from school is coming up! Soon I can soak up some nice relaxation time and my friends will be in town to see again. Realistically, I'm sure I'll end up picking up shifts to supplement my income to get ready for the next semester, but it will be nice to have some free time.

That's all for now, folks.

Geriatric Preparation

Now that I'm 25, it's weird telling people that I'm that old. I feel older. I've always considered myself a little bit of an old soul but I'm starting to feel old. Even though I'm in shape, I'm relatively certain that my knees started to ache when it got cold outside yesterday. That has never happened to me before. Now it's only a matter of time before my back and other joints give out to arthritis. Knowing my luck, this is also the beginning of a downhill slope towards an enlarged prostate and impotence. Fantastic. Maybe when I turn 26 I can have my first heart attack and start having annual colonoscopies by the time I'm 27. I'll probably have to empty out my fishing tackle box and replace the lures with what will probably be a mini-pharmacy used keep me alive. My toes have been starting to ache too. I'm probably getting gout, bunions or corns. I might as well start stocking up on some Preparation H for my inevitable hemorrhoids. While I'm at it, I'll start buying stool softeners like they just went out of style. (Because stool softeners have ALWAYS been in!) I'll also need a blender so I can be prepared for my puree diet and then buy Ensure in bulk for when I get a feeding tube. Just to be ahead of the curve, I'm going to start wearing diapers so I can get used to the uncomfortable feeling of shitting my pants and walking around in it for hours. Next, I'll steal urinary catheters for my personal use to eliminate the risk of tripping and breaking my hip at night while walking to the bathroom. I'm betting my bones are probably about as strong as twigs. I will be breaking bones left and right!

Now that I've accepted that I'm old, I can now accept my mental downtrend towards senility. I'm forgetting everything and about half the shit I say makes minimal sense. Soon I'll start forgetting familiar faces, lose track of the current year, and start accusing minorities of stealing small things that I can't find in my house. I don't think I'm to the point that I can start fondling people as I see fit and then blame it on my age. I'm hoping that time will come as soon as possible so that it can enhance the quality of my declining life.

Now that you all know what is coming, you can now start making arrangements to put me in a nursing home. I'm not picky on which nursing home seeing as though the staff will probably have the decency to accidentally put me out of my misery like most of their other patients. I'll probably die from being left in bed in my own poo for too long or  preferably from being hit by a car after wandering the street unattended.

 I don't need a fancy funeral. Just remember me as I am at the time of death: An average pants-shitting, thirty-something year-old, who aged faster than Robin Williams in that crappy movie, "Jack."

Old Habits Turned to Nostalgia

I used to take long random drives all the time. In the end, I would always end up in the same place so I could write poems in my book. The place I would end up was usually the parking lot of a church under South Mountain. From there I could see most of the Salt Lake valley. For some reason, I always found that place inspiring and calming. I could sit there and think for hours. I could write anything there and feel good about it, even if I was in my cramped car. In the summer, I would walk around the park that was directly next to it. I could lay in the grass and let my mind drift.

 It was my place. It was my area. On especially stressful days, I didn't just want to be there; I needed to be there. I couldn't wait until I could just jump in my car and drive there. It felt so far away but without being far from home. I felt removed from everyone there. It was practically a habit to just go there 2-5 times a week. I always thought it was a place I would come back to for years to come.

Eventually, I stopped writing poetry. As a result, I went to that place less. I didn't need that hill top to write, but it was a nice place to think. Then I started taking less random drives that would eventually lead me to that place. I didn't need a special place to think anymore. After a while, the hilltop lost its significance to me. It was no longer a destination that hosted my thoughts on seemingly emergent basis's. Soon I just stopped going.

Yesterday, I decided to take a random drive for no real apparent reason. I just wanted to get out of the house. Just like old times, I drove to that hilltop. I smiled as I drove into the parking lot. It was nice to know that it was there. Not that I thought it wouldn't be. It's a relatively new area where a lot of rich people live. I know it's not going anywhere. The memories stirred from inside my head. So many thoughts. So many emotions. I was a different person 5 years ago. It's strange to how much just a little place like that meant to me. Now it serves as a memory beacon of who I once was. I'm not the emotionally charged, young twenty-something struggling to control and make sense of his emotions through a poetic medium.

Maybe I didn't really need the place to write or think. Maybe I just needed something more calming than myself to call my own.

I took this picture not knowing that the house with the odd green light would accidentally become the focus of the picture. On my phone, you couldn't see it at all. I just wanted to get the city. I spent countless hours marveling at the city lights from here.

If I Was a Superhero........

Everyone has dreamed of being a superhero at least once in their life. After watching a superhero movie, everyone always says "I wish I had (insert preferred powers here) so I could (insert ludicrous scenario here)." I know I'm certainly guilty of it. In fact, I've thought about it too much recently. I have all the details thought out. Right down to the exact type of bad guys I would fight.

Oh yes, if I was a superhero, it would be grand. It's hard to say exactly what kind of powers I would have. I wouldn't be able to choose just one. Knowing my luck, I would most likely have the least awesome of super powers. Powers that no one else would have or want. For example, one of my many powers would be to have the ability to summon minor B-list celebrities to my aid! That sounds pretty useless. But what supervillian would expect that? None of them!

Scenario:

Supervillain: It's all over for you J-Dub (my superhero name). You don't have anyone to help you now. I will be the manager of this mall forever! Bwah ha ha ha ha! 
(Maybe the guy isn't a supervillain, maybe he is just an incompetent dumbass. But someone still needs to fight those types of douchebags)

J-Dub: Not so fast! I summon Pat Sajak, Alex Trebek and Bob Barker to my aid! (They will ideally appear out of thin air or burst through the ceiling.)

Supervillain: Oh wow! I'm your biggest fan to all of you, you have no idea! Will you sign my chest?!

While the villain is stunned by the minor celebrities presence, I will sneak up on him and kick them square in the junk. Social crime would be crushed along with his testicles.



I'll admit that is a pretty lame superpower. But it's not the superpower that's important. It's the bad guys. I would like to fight for a city where the bad guys have poor fashion choices and are easy to identify. They would all dress the same and look fairly close alike. Ideally, they would have uni-brows and perpetual 5 o'clock shadow facial hair. Also, if they were all wearing the 1920's striped jail uniforms, that would be convenient as well. Easy identification of a villain and henchmen would be key to my superhero success. In the movies, the bad guy is always equally skilled in hand to hand combat as the hero. In order for me to be a successful superhero, this could not happen. My villains would have to be terrible at fighting in order for me to win consistently. Hopefully, they would have some sort of mental or physical impairment that would make it easy for me to overcome them with my weak male physique. It would also help for them to be gullible and stupid enough that I can just talk them out of not fighting me instead. I can just use my powers of persuasion to convince them that fighting me would just exhaust them physically and the rest of their day would be wasted resting up after the event. (Persuasion would be another superpower of mine that no other superhero has).

I would pretty much be the laziest superhero of all time. Conversely, the city I would be fighting for would have to be equally lazy and stupid to not be able to fend off these imbecile villains themselves. Knowing this city is full of lazy idiots, I would use my powers of persuasion to convince the city to handsomely compensate me for all of my work fighting crime. No superhero has done that before. I would be the first to economically sucker a city into paying me for mediocre work. I imagine the Justice League and other heroes who work only for the concept of justice would frown upon this greatly. However, I believe they would just be mad or jealous because they didn't think about it first. Spiderman, had his opportunities to capitalize on his good deeds and failed to make good on it. Batman doesn't need the money since Bruce Wayne already makes a ton of money. However, I'm sure if he could, Ol' Bruce would find way to launder the money to this corporation so that he has extra funds for his expensive bat-themed operations. Superman wouldn't need the money, though I'm sure he would like to have it so Clark Kent doesn't have to have such a poor dating life with Lois. For once, he could show her the good life instead of taking her out for meager dinners and cute dates on his meager journalist salary. The X-Men get all their funds through Professor X who somehow manages to get money from his students, but probably doesn't get any sort of financial help from the government. It probably wouldn't hurt them to get some extra cash. But alas, I would still be the lone wolf getting paid for my crime fighting.



This has to be the nerdiest blog I've written in a long time. I found it in my draft section dating back to April of 2008. I decided to finish it for lack of better ideas to write about.

Tongue Twister Solver

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Probably none. Woodchucks are horribly stupid and smelly creatures. They are barely capable of long-term survival or simple tasks so they breed like crazy. A woodchucks primary goal in life is to get laid as often as possible before they fall off cliff or get eaten by a hawk. When they aren't having crazy rodent sex, they are hibernating for 3-4 months to escape the winter cold. This all doesn't sound so bad until you get to the part where woodchucks often die violent and painful deaths. Thus, due to a woodchucks probable short life, chucking wood would be the last of a woodchucks concerns. A woodchuck is probably too busy trying to build a hibernation fort or getting some sweet loving. They don't have time to be carelessly and pointlessly chucking wood.

[As you can see from this smug woodchuck's specs, its body is not capable of effective wood chucking skills.]


The name woodchuck technically has nothing to do with wood or wood chucking for that matter. It's all a misnomer, because an old Native American language called them wuchak. Eventually, stupid white people settled into the region and adapted the name to woodchuck. A woodchuck is nothing more than another term for common groundhog.



The real tongue twister answer, in case you were curious is:
A woodchuck would chuck all the wood he could if a woodchuck could chuck wood.



I like my answer better.

5 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me

For some reason, I thought it would be fun to post something random about myself. So without further delay, my random list of 5 things you probably didn't know (or care to know) about me:

1. Almost every time I'm alone in my car, I crank up my music and sing as loud as possible with whatever is playing. It has to be a song that I already know and like. Despite lacking talent in singing, its one of my favorite things to do.

2. 90% of my bad days have a direct link to how much sleep I get. If I'm tired, the day is usually lost to my uncontrollable negative attitude.

3. The more tired I am, the more I talk to myself aloud. My inner thoughts and monologue start becoming outer thoughts, getting gradually louder as I become more tired. If you want to test this, just ask how much sleep I've gotten. If it's less than 6 hours, scoot in close and you can hear me mumble throughout the day. If I fail to get sleep the next day, you won't need to be close. My angry mumbles will be more audible with each passing hour.

4. If I get to know someone moderately well over the course of months or years, (depending on the nature of our relationship like co-worker, acquaintance, etc and if I like you), I make it a personal goal of mine to someday make them laugh till they cry or damn close. I don't know why, but I always find it satisfying to make someone laugh that hard. But as I said, this depends heavily on the relationship. If it's my boss or authority figure that I've known fairly and casually well for a long time, I would not attempt. But for the most part, I generally succeed in this goal.

5. If you see me  randomly sway my arms in an odd fashion, don't be alarmed. Often times without noticing, I air-guitar or air-drum songs that get stuck in my head when I think I'm alone or not being watched. When someone finally sees me or I see them unexpectedly, my arms drop real fast and kind of sway around.


That's some truely pointless shit right there.

Quarter Century Old

These are my last two weeks of not being age 25. The age of 25 has always been scary to me because it marks being a quarter of a century old and signals the downhill of your 20's. They seemed to have gone by so fast. Before I know it, I'll be in my 30's with kids and maybe facial hair. I always pictured myself being so much different at the age of 25. I'm not sure how I will feel soon telling people I'm 25, live with my parents, still working on a degree and still working in an entry level job. Bleh. I don't relish those upcoming moments, but I only have myself to blame for not getting it together sooner. But it's ok. I've got it all together now and for the most part, I'm secure with where I am in life and where I'm going.

Positively speaking, I'm excited for this weekend which will hopefully be full of seeing friends and eating bad food. I shouldn't look forward to the bad food since I just worked my ass off to get to my current state of fitness. But I figure it's a special occasion that warrants the use of beer and greasy foods. That's how I will justify it. Then I'll just be good until my birthday which will probably involve both beer and bad foods again. I'll just need to be good after that too since Thanksgiving is less than a week after that. It will be a challenging month for my waistline and prospective muscle-building attempts. However, I'm still pretty happy about the weight I've been at the past year and a half. Even when I gained 18 lbs over the summer I still didn't look bad and still looked skinny compared to pictures from 2 years ago when I should have been in good shape as well. I plan on being as meticulous as possible regarding my fitness. I want to stay in shape and not fade back into being a fat slob.

On a downer note, the news tells me that snow is coming to the valley tonight and for the weekend. I hate snow, I hate winter. I cannot reiterate this enough. I have absolutely nothing to do in the winter except for becoming an angry legendary shut-in. Every day is a new reminder that winter is starting to slowly make it's away across the border of Fall and into Winter. Maybe I can pick up some new hobby for the winter like sculpting dirty objects out of snow or find ways to recreate Summer-like conditions in my home without using the heater or mind altering drugs.

Anywho, I'll end this boring post now.