I had a dream this morning where my sister was on a show like American Idol as one of the top 10 contestants, and they had this song marathon thing where each person had to sing four songs in a row before they got to take a break, and the last song my sister sang was "Boys of Summer," and just as she finished up and was about to be told how she did by the judges, Fox just cut out.
Then I was going to tell my friends about it, and they were all playing mini-golf at the Jewish community center, and the older Jewish people there were really upset because my friends were eating their potato chips because my friends aren't Jewish, so they were dumping potato chips on the putting greens so that my friends couldn't keep playing.
I said that my friends had a right to be playing mini-golf because they paid to be there, and the Jewish people were just yelling things, and so I started talking to them calmly and an older man got into an argument with my friend Jess (who looked like Carla from Scrubs for some reason, which is odd because Jess is a short redhead), and I stepped in to defend her and said that the church is about community and love and celebrating life, and the old man said that his church had given him something much better than celebrating life: celebrating death. I yelled "What about life AFTER death!" at him and he started screaming the Lord's Prayer (why, I don't know. He was Jewish), and in the middle of it he bowed down on the ground toward the church and sort of sobbed the rest of the prayer, and so I bowed down beside him and finished the prayer with him.
When he was done, he got up and walked back inside, and I started walking away, turned toward Jess, and said, "Come on. Come on, it's over." I think she said something about how he was wrong, and that we had to stay, and I said, "There's nothing that will change his mind short of himself. Whether or not he ever discovers that he's wrong isn't up to us. Now come on."
It's interesting how your dreams can teach you lessons you should already know. I hope that the old man doesn't regret being so afraid of death that he never opted to live, but it's hard for me to believe that he wouldn't feel as though he missed out. If he does, then that will be very sad for him, but I can only tell him what I think of life; he's the one who has to make the choice to live.
Friday, June 27
Saturday, June 21
What grates me about summer
One of my friends told me last night that a bunch of his friends had snagged the key to his campus's dorms and that they were going to spend the night there instead of in their apartments. Another one of my friends is spending his days helping his mother and my old drama teacher with their theatre camp for children. Another one of my friends is spending the summer as a counselor at a Boy Scout camp in Iowa. My sister is spending the summer working and hanging out with friends.
I had the chance at a job this summer. I was training to be a server at Red Robin. Training was excruciating; after every four-hour session I felt like I'd actually worked twice as long. It was great.
But certification rolled around yesterday. The long of the short of it is that I was given my own section, and I failed to supply my "Guests" (yes, it's capitalized 100% of the time) the "gift of time," and so I have to hand my shirt in on the Fourth of July. I spent $42 on a pair of non-slip shoes for the job. I didn't get to keep any of my own tips. Technically, I didn't have any of my own tables, so all of the tips people gave me went to the person who didn't wait on the tables. I'll receive a check when I hand my shirt in for all the hours I put in to training. The $51 is going to be spectacular, especially once expenditures are factored in. I don't have the chance to find another job this summer. It's already nearing the end of June.
Most, if not all, of my friends are able to go out and do something during the day, and a good number of them are doing things that they want to do. They have the chance to live for themselves, to do the things that they enjoy. I don't get to enjoy the same privileges. I sit at home every day and do next to nothing all day. I don't have the opportunity to live for myself. I just sit here, bored, and there's nothing I can do about it.
I had the chance at a job this summer. I was training to be a server at Red Robin. Training was excruciating; after every four-hour session I felt like I'd actually worked twice as long. It was great.
But certification rolled around yesterday. The long of the short of it is that I was given my own section, and I failed to supply my "Guests" (yes, it's capitalized 100% of the time) the "gift of time," and so I have to hand my shirt in on the Fourth of July. I spent $42 on a pair of non-slip shoes for the job. I didn't get to keep any of my own tips. Technically, I didn't have any of my own tables, so all of the tips people gave me went to the person who didn't wait on the tables. I'll receive a check when I hand my shirt in for all the hours I put in to training. The $51 is going to be spectacular, especially once expenditures are factored in. I don't have the chance to find another job this summer. It's already nearing the end of June.
Most, if not all, of my friends are able to go out and do something during the day, and a good number of them are doing things that they want to do. They have the chance to live for themselves, to do the things that they enjoy. I don't get to enjoy the same privileges. I sit at home every day and do next to nothing all day. I don't have the opportunity to live for myself. I just sit here, bored, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Sunday, June 15
Things that cheer me
1. All episodes of Digimon to the end of season 3.
2. Nintendo, schools new and old (but especially the Super era).
3. Movies of any genre, so long as they're well-written.
4. My iPod Touch.
5. Apple in general, for their attention to detail and flair.
6. Being free to explore at my own pace.
7. Having opportunities to get out of my head every once in a while.
8. Music from the nineties.
9. Music I can wrap myself in.
10. Blankets I can wrap myself in.
11. That feeling of homeostasis.
12. Pajama pants.
13. Days that begin with rainy mornings.
14. Dreams where I can fly.
15. Sondheim, and any other musical composer who challenges the paradigm.
16. People who challenge the paradigm and succeed.
17. People who were born challenging the paradigm (I like them most of all).
18. Ohana.
19. Love.
20. God's plan.
2. Nintendo, schools new and old (but especially the Super era).
3. Movies of any genre, so long as they're well-written.
4. My iPod Touch.
5. Apple in general, for their attention to detail and flair.
6. Being free to explore at my own pace.
7. Having opportunities to get out of my head every once in a while.
8. Music from the nineties.
9. Music I can wrap myself in.
10. Blankets I can wrap myself in.
11. That feeling of homeostasis.
12. Pajama pants.
13. Days that begin with rainy mornings.
14. Dreams where I can fly.
15. Sondheim, and any other musical composer who challenges the paradigm.
16. People who challenge the paradigm and succeed.
17. People who were born challenging the paradigm (I like them most of all).
18. Ohana.
19. Love.
20. God's plan.
Friday, June 13
Monday, June 9
A time capsule
A year ago, I was applying for jobs, trying to keep up with a vlog that I kept finding harder to remain interested in, hoping for good news on my GPA, and playing through Final Fantasy XII after getting frustrated with Metal Gear Solid 2 on Extreme difficulty. I went to Disney World for a week in May and kept a journal about every day I spent there.
On July 5th, I had my gall bladder out, which had a rather painful week of recovery attached to it, and also necessitated the shaving of my entire chest in order to let the hair grow back in evenly. The reason I had my gall bladder out was because the doctors pinpointed it as the source of extreme pain I had when I went to the emergency room one day in March. I had gall stones because of my blood disorder. After about four days' recovery, we decided to go to Shadow Lake and see what the Red Robin there was like. I had the chili, and later that day discovered exactly what a migraine did to your entire body.
In the meantime, I remained at home waiting for something to happen when one day I got a phone call from Culver's asking me to come in for a job interview. This happened no earlier than July 20, four weeks or so before the semester was going to start, and I ended up having orientation but not getting the job.
My GPA came back, and with it came my scholarship information. I was losing $5,000 (half) of my academic scholarship. Also, since I didn't find a roommate, Doane was charging me for single-occupant status in the face of a room shortage which basically pushed other students out of getting a room in the dorm they wanted. My mom suggested that I take a semester off and stay at home until I was at UNL in the spring. Luckily, this didn't end up happening.
So why am I writing about things that happened an entire year ago? Because of what's been happening this summer.
This summer, I applied to eleven jobs around Bellevue, am trying to keep up with a vlog that I don't know whether or not I have the energy to do as frequently as I ever used to, went to Virginia Beach for a week in May and kept a journal over every day I was there, got good news on my GPA (a 3.4), and have recently quit playing Metal Gear Solid 3 out of frustration with Extreme difficulty.
Come June 19th, I'll be visiting a hematologist (somebody who knows a lot about blood) to decide what to do about my spleen. I had an incident of jaundice in January that lead us to discover that my spleen is having trouble regulating my blood, which is, of course, part of my blood disorder. I'll obviously need surgery to have the thing out, which I've been told will keep me in the hospital for at least a week, and then at home for at least another week. Of course, this means I'm probably going to be shaved again. I'm probably most upset about that... I don't know why, though. I mean, the hair will all grow back, and after that it's not going to be noticeable that I even had my spleen out.
My GPA came back already, as I mentioned before. It’s actually a great deal higher than I thought it would be at this point. Of my five classes (Microeconomics, Art of Writing, Mass Media, Aural & Visual Literacy, and German 102), I expected only to get an A in one class, a B in only two classes, and a C in the other two. Instead, I got an A in two of my classes and a B in the other three. This resulted in a final GPA of 3.415. Unfortunately, I already know I’m not receiving scholarships for this upcoming year, which means that I’ll be paying all $17,000 out of loans.
The only conclusion I can draw about this is that, save a minor change in nouns, this summer is almost completely identical to the last one. There are no stark revelations to be had; no planned trips to see anybody special; no breaks from the monotony I thought would be broken this year. I’m being forced to read through the an old chapter of my life once more, and there are no stark differences between this time and the last. Yes, I have a job now, but I guarantee that I’ll still be waiting for something to happen from now until something does.
William Goldman wrote The Princess Bride in the 1980s, but he did so in a way that made it sound like he wasn’t the author at all. In his story, he was a sick child when his father first introduced him to the book, written by S. Morgenstern. When he realized how great of a book it was, Goldman wanted to get it for his son, and after a painstaking search, finally found the original book, and discovered that it was an encyclopedia compared to what his father had read him. It was the same book, but bogged down with accounts of events that had no bearing on the overall plot of the book, and so Goldman sought to cut out all of the boring chapters of the book and give us readers only the “good parts.”
I’ll bet the original manuscript was full of summers like mine.
On July 5th, I had my gall bladder out, which had a rather painful week of recovery attached to it, and also necessitated the shaving of my entire chest in order to let the hair grow back in evenly. The reason I had my gall bladder out was because the doctors pinpointed it as the source of extreme pain I had when I went to the emergency room one day in March. I had gall stones because of my blood disorder. After about four days' recovery, we decided to go to Shadow Lake and see what the Red Robin there was like. I had the chili, and later that day discovered exactly what a migraine did to your entire body.
In the meantime, I remained at home waiting for something to happen when one day I got a phone call from Culver's asking me to come in for a job interview. This happened no earlier than July 20, four weeks or so before the semester was going to start, and I ended up having orientation but not getting the job.
My GPA came back, and with it came my scholarship information. I was losing $5,000 (half) of my academic scholarship. Also, since I didn't find a roommate, Doane was charging me for single-occupant status in the face of a room shortage which basically pushed other students out of getting a room in the dorm they wanted. My mom suggested that I take a semester off and stay at home until I was at UNL in the spring. Luckily, this didn't end up happening.
So why am I writing about things that happened an entire year ago? Because of what's been happening this summer.
This summer, I applied to eleven jobs around Bellevue, am trying to keep up with a vlog that I don't know whether or not I have the energy to do as frequently as I ever used to, went to Virginia Beach for a week in May and kept a journal over every day I was there, got good news on my GPA (a 3.4), and have recently quit playing Metal Gear Solid 3 out of frustration with Extreme difficulty.
Come June 19th, I'll be visiting a hematologist (somebody who knows a lot about blood) to decide what to do about my spleen. I had an incident of jaundice in January that lead us to discover that my spleen is having trouble regulating my blood, which is, of course, part of my blood disorder. I'll obviously need surgery to have the thing out, which I've been told will keep me in the hospital for at least a week, and then at home for at least another week. Of course, this means I'm probably going to be shaved again. I'm probably most upset about that... I don't know why, though. I mean, the hair will all grow back, and after that it's not going to be noticeable that I even had my spleen out.
My GPA came back already, as I mentioned before. It’s actually a great deal higher than I thought it would be at this point. Of my five classes (Microeconomics, Art of Writing, Mass Media, Aural & Visual Literacy, and German 102), I expected only to get an A in one class, a B in only two classes, and a C in the other two. Instead, I got an A in two of my classes and a B in the other three. This resulted in a final GPA of 3.415. Unfortunately, I already know I’m not receiving scholarships for this upcoming year, which means that I’ll be paying all $17,000 out of loans.
The only conclusion I can draw about this is that, save a minor change in nouns, this summer is almost completely identical to the last one. There are no stark revelations to be had; no planned trips to see anybody special; no breaks from the monotony I thought would be broken this year. I’m being forced to read through the an old chapter of my life once more, and there are no stark differences between this time and the last. Yes, I have a job now, but I guarantee that I’ll still be waiting for something to happen from now until something does.
William Goldman wrote The Princess Bride in the 1980s, but he did so in a way that made it sound like he wasn’t the author at all. In his story, he was a sick child when his father first introduced him to the book, written by S. Morgenstern. When he realized how great of a book it was, Goldman wanted to get it for his son, and after a painstaking search, finally found the original book, and discovered that it was an encyclopedia compared to what his father had read him. It was the same book, but bogged down with accounts of events that had no bearing on the overall plot of the book, and so Goldman sought to cut out all of the boring chapters of the book and give us readers only the “good parts.”
I’ll bet the original manuscript was full of summers like mine.
Sunday, June 8
Sunday, June 1
It feels strange getting back home. Back to the incessant classical my dad refuses not to listen to, back to the incredibly dull airport of Eppley, back to the dim-witted airport management that puts unclaimed bags from an earlier flight right in front of the conveyor belt so that nobody on the current flight can get to their bags easily, back to the weird smells of this place that we'd gotten used to before, back to Internet access, and back to undoubtedly boring days sitting in front of my computer screen while nothing happens.
That's not to say that I'm upset to be back; I couldn't be happier. I'm just not that happy about it to begin with. As I always say, the usual distinguishing factor between one summer and the last is how much older I am. Of course, this year holds promise to be different: I know that I at least have a job to look forward to, and assuming my parents buy a new car, I'll have the old one at least in time for next semester, but how long will it take before those things lose their novelty?
I really shouldn't complain. I know that my job will keep me busy as long as I'm there, and if my parents realize that I'm twenty by the time this year's Pride festivites roll around, I might just be out for those (HA!). And there'll probably be opportunities to get out of the house when I can bankroll gasoline.
I just hope that there's more to look forward to this summer than serving hamburgers to people, is all.
That's not to say that I'm upset to be back; I couldn't be happier. I'm just not that happy about it to begin with. As I always say, the usual distinguishing factor between one summer and the last is how much older I am. Of course, this year holds promise to be different: I know that I at least have a job to look forward to, and assuming my parents buy a new car, I'll have the old one at least in time for next semester, but how long will it take before those things lose their novelty?
I really shouldn't complain. I know that my job will keep me busy as long as I'm there, and if my parents realize that I'm twenty by the time this year's Pride festivites roll around, I might just be out for those (HA!). And there'll probably be opportunities to get out of the house when I can bankroll gasoline.
I just hope that there's more to look forward to this summer than serving hamburgers to people, is all.
Friday, June 6
Saturday, May 31
One of the absolute craziest things I can possibly think of is
actually one of the things I've thought about most often.
actually one of the things I've thought about most often.
Here's how it goes: say I'm hanging out with some of my friends,
playing Smash Bros. or just having lunch or whatever. We're talking
about stuff, having a good time, and then after a while I head back to
my own place, whatever that might mean at the time: my dorm, my house,
class, whatever. That sounds pretty normal, right? And I'm at my
place doing my own thing, and my friends are doing THEIR own thing,
and that's what's going on.
But here's where things get weird for me, is when I think about the
fact that my friends are actually thinking. While I'm not there,
they're still just as autonomous as when I am. But that isn't really
the weirdest part. Here's what just completely floors me whenever I
realize it. Are you ready? Okay...
People have the potential to think about ME when I'm not right there.
That's... Just... Bizarre. To me, I mean. Maybe some people don't
think it's so weird that they think about me, or even that others
think about them, but all my life I just never considered the
possibility that people thought specifically about me while I wasn't
around them.
Why is it so weird an idea that people think about me? I don't know.
It might have something to do with the fact that I was never ever
exposed to any effects of people thinking about me for the better part
of my life. I didn't really have friends until high school, so why
would anybody in any of my classes spare a second thought for a kid
that they just made fun of? I started doing things that actually
required socializing (theatre) in my sophomore year, but even then,
there was never really any kind of invitation extended by any of my
friends to any kind of party or anything, outside of cast parties, and
even at those I can barely recall socializing to any profound degree.
So there's a definite groundwork for a reaction of "seriously?!"
whenever somebody says "Oh, Josh, I was just thinking of you." I think
a lot about my friends, even when I haven't talked to them in a while,
but to hear that they do the same thing... I guess you could say I'm
not used to existing outside of myself.
How do you come to terms with the fact that you affect others' lives?
Thursday, June 5
Friday, May 30
I do this thing sometimes in my sleep, I don't know if it's weird or
not, where I dream I'm hearing a song that I've never heard before in
my life. I don't know if that's weird, but I think it is pretty weird
that last night I dreamt I was hearing two songs I'd never heard
before in my life, at the same time. My dad was listening to one song
on TV, and I was trying to listen to one on my computer, but I don't
think that I've ever heard either song on the radio or on the Internet
or anything. I think that's a little weird.
not, where I dream I'm hearing a song that I've never heard before in
my life. I don't know if that's weird, but I think it is pretty weird
that last night I dreamt I was hearing two songs I'd never heard
before in my life, at the same time. My dad was listening to one song
on TV, and I was trying to listen to one on my computer, but I don't
think that I've ever heard either song on the radio or on the Internet
or anything. I think that's a little weird.
We decided we'd go to Williamsburg today. I don't think there's
anything there but colonial stuff, which is bound to be nothing but
education. On the way, I listened to my playlist of music from video
games. I like it because it only has a few songs with words, and the
ones that have words are mostly slow, so I don't have any lyrics to
think about and I can just let my mind drift wherever. I started
thinking about stuff like secret Santa and what I would give everyone
at QSA if they ever did a secret Santa game. I thought of a few
things I'd give people, but they probably don't have secret Santas, so
I don't think that'll be an issue.
I also thought about how I would feel if we got into a car crash and I
survived. I don't know if I would end up in the hospital for my
injuries, but if I did it would be a good excuse to sleep for a
while. I don't know why, but I also thought about the tornadoes in
Nebraska and what life would be like if my mom died in one.
We had breakfast at IHOP. I had the chocolate chip pancakes because I
didn't think anything else sounded very good, and water because I
wasn't very thirsty and didn't want my parents to spend money that
they didn't have to. There was a family next to us that sounded like
they were talking about boob jobs. I guess it's a good thing I
usually eat breakfast alone, because a lot of people I've overheard at
breakfast these past few days have talked about really weird things
like boob jobs, or they just swore a lot for no real reason. I don't
think breakfast is the best time for either of those things, and I'd
probably be uncomfortable sitting with those people.
I'm really trying to stay as unengaged as I can today. I feel like if
I involve myself in any active thought process that I'll end up seeing
something or hearing something that will make me realize that I'm
feeling empty beyond a point that I can be filled right now. I don't
like feeling that way. I don't think anybody does but I feel like
maybe I feel empty more often than others. This sounds a little
weird, but I feel better about life when I don't have to really think
about it, so I go off into daydreams and think about absolutely
nothing and absolutely everything at the same time, and I don't have
to smile and I don't care if I cry. And it's all okay if I just keep
my mind disengaged until I fall asleep and dream about absolutely
nothing and absolutely everything at the same time.
And two songs that I've never heard before in my life are playing at
the same time.
Wednesday, June 4
Thursday, May 29
Have you ever been to an amusement park, and been in line for a roller coaster and had this feeling in your gut that it was a bad idea? I get that every single time I'm in line for a roller coaster. It doesn't even have to be a scary roller coaster, either. It's any time I get on a roller coaster, even if I've ridden it a hundred times already. Actually, I think the most times I've ever ridden one roller coaster was seven times, butthat feeling in my stomach never goes away.
It starts before I get in line, even. The sign out in front of the ride always gets me. Then I feel more and more apprehension as I get closer to the actual roller coaster. It's not a time thing, it's a proximity thing. No matter how long I wait to get in the seat, I feel more scared the closet I get. Sometimes I think I might walk out of line just before I have to strap myself in.
It starts before I get in line, even. The sign out in front of the ride always gets me. Then I feel more and more apprehension as I get closer to the actual roller coaster. It's not a time thing, it's a proximity thing. No matter how long I wait to get in the seat, I feel more scared the closet I get. Sometimes I think I might walk out of line just before I have to strap myself in.
And then I get into my seat, and I pull down on the lap bar or my shoulder harness or I buckle my seatbelt, and then I think about how much stuff I've got in my pockets and think about what I would do if anything flew out at any point and I could never find it again. I'd be pretty upset, no joke.
And then the person comes and tries to lift up your lap bar with no more than an eighth of their strength. Like, if a baby can't lift your restraints, then surely the G-force doesn't stand a chance. Then you hear somebody from somewhere say "clear" in what you can't tell is a harsh tone, a bored tone, or a profoundly upset tone (like your dad uses when you get a bad grade on your report card), and you get jostled out of the gate and you feel even more scared than when you were in line.
There's always that really tiny drop out of the gate before you get on the conveyor belt. It tries to trick you into thinking that this is all going to be easy, but then you hear the clanging of the belt that drags you up and you're sure that this is the undocumented sound that everyone hears when they're about to die.
And then, silence as you crest the hill, and nothing. The feeling in your stomach intensifies for a moment as you plummet toward the ground, but once you make your first turn back up into the air, there is no fear. And the sounds all converge into nothing, and all of the colors mix as they brush by you, and all that is left is the feeling. Not the one of fear, but a new one, a sense of awe and wonder and euphoria, and you're convinced that nothing is true outside of that. And you don't have anything to worry about anymore, because you ARE flying. And everything around you is gone from your conscious and everything is beautiful. Beautiful enough to make you cry.
And even if you can't see them all the time, you're on rails. Everything's alright. Yes, everything's alright.
Tuesday, June 3
Today
I think the fact that I'm posting old blogs now shouldn't excuse me from the fact that I have feelings and events to chronicle right now. I didn't write anything about yesterday, but most of what's important is still fresh in my mind.
I'm relishing the return of Internet into my life, but whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen. I feel like yesterday might have been more productive without it, since all I really did was spend the day trying over and over to upload photos from vacation onto Facebook while I listened to AOL Radio. I also made a clip of an episode of Scrubs which I felt was pertinent to the things going on in my life right now. But other than that, there's not much else to report.
I had a dream Sunday night about him. We were in a cement courtyard, kind of like the one on UNL's campus, only very rearranged. He was sitting in the very middle of the plaza, and I came up and sat down next to him. I don't remember nearly anything that was said, except that he didn't really want to talk (last night on Yahoo had him saying the same thing), and then Smash Mouth took the stage and started playing "All Star." I guess my brain's trying to send me a coded message...
You never know if you don't go,
You never shine if you don't glow...
I wish he was having my dreams instead of me. I already know the things my dreams are trying to tell me. That's the entire reason I was thinking about that clip of Scrubs.
Dr. Cox: "No, I am honestly trying to tell you that I don't think I was being clear with you before. In fact, I think I was being a pretty lousy teacher.
"Look, I think putting one in the win column every now and then is what gives us the juice to keep plugging along in games that we know deep down, we're not gonna win. And that's why I locked-in so intensely with that patient, because opportunites, they... God, they come along so rarely in this place, and when they do, you just can't let them slip through your fingers. You can not. You know?"
Cox is talking about matters of life and death here. Yes, his patient was high-risk, but she still had so much life to live that making the attempt to treat her, even if it ended in failure and she died anyway, was worth all of the risk and more.
Far too often, we look at things in our life and say to ourselves that there's too much risk involved in pursuing something that we really want, but what we often forget until it's too late to stand up and fight is that nothing worth having comes easy. And yes, it can really hurt to put yourself out there because if you fail, you feel like the effort was wasted, but if you don't put any effort in at all, then you might have missed out on a great success (you never know if you don't go). And just like with Dr. Cox's patient, you might not have the easiest road ahead of you; sometimes you might even have something blocking your way, and you have to relegate yourself to staying in one place until you can find a solution to your problem. You might have to simply keep your patient on life support for a while until you know what's wrong, and that can be scary, but you have to keep the window of opportunity open, even if it's just open by a small crack, so that you can open it all the way later on (you never shine if you don't glow).
I think sometimes we leave too much up to "fate," and we convince ourselves not to move because of it. Sometimes, we might even think we're choosing to stand still when we're really retreating into "fate." But sometimes, you can't let yourself do that. Fate is a set of unpredictable factors in our life, culminating into a point where we have to make a decision. Fate is what brings us to our points of action, but it's up to us to decide what happens next when we hit those crossroads.
I'm relishing the return of Internet into my life, but whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen. I feel like yesterday might have been more productive without it, since all I really did was spend the day trying over and over to upload photos from vacation onto Facebook while I listened to AOL Radio. I also made a clip of an episode of Scrubs which I felt was pertinent to the things going on in my life right now. But other than that, there's not much else to report.
I had a dream Sunday night about him. We were in a cement courtyard, kind of like the one on UNL's campus, only very rearranged. He was sitting in the very middle of the plaza, and I came up and sat down next to him. I don't remember nearly anything that was said, except that he didn't really want to talk (last night on Yahoo had him saying the same thing), and then Smash Mouth took the stage and started playing "All Star." I guess my brain's trying to send me a coded message...
You never know if you don't go,
You never shine if you don't glow...
I wish he was having my dreams instead of me. I already know the things my dreams are trying to tell me. That's the entire reason I was thinking about that clip of Scrubs.
Dr. Cox: "No, I am honestly trying to tell you that I don't think I was being clear with you before. In fact, I think I was being a pretty lousy teacher.
"Look, I think putting one in the win column every now and then is what gives us the juice to keep plugging along in games that we know deep down, we're not gonna win. And that's why I locked-in so intensely with that patient, because opportunites, they... God, they come along so rarely in this place, and when they do, you just can't let them slip through your fingers. You can not. You know?"
Cox is talking about matters of life and death here. Yes, his patient was high-risk, but she still had so much life to live that making the attempt to treat her, even if it ended in failure and she died anyway, was worth all of the risk and more.
Far too often, we look at things in our life and say to ourselves that there's too much risk involved in pursuing something that we really want, but what we often forget until it's too late to stand up and fight is that nothing worth having comes easy. And yes, it can really hurt to put yourself out there because if you fail, you feel like the effort was wasted, but if you don't put any effort in at all, then you might have missed out on a great success (you never know if you don't go). And just like with Dr. Cox's patient, you might not have the easiest road ahead of you; sometimes you might even have something blocking your way, and you have to relegate yourself to staying in one place until you can find a solution to your problem. You might have to simply keep your patient on life support for a while until you know what's wrong, and that can be scary, but you have to keep the window of opportunity open, even if it's just open by a small crack, so that you can open it all the way later on (you never shine if you don't glow).
I think sometimes we leave too much up to "fate," and we convince ourselves not to move because of it. Sometimes, we might even think we're choosing to stand still when we're really retreating into "fate." But sometimes, you can't let yourself do that. Fate is a set of unpredictable factors in our life, culminating into a point where we have to make a decision. Fate is what brings us to our points of action, but it's up to us to decide what happens next when we hit those crossroads.
Wednesday, May 28
Today was a lot better than any other day in the last two weeks. I heard the song "Be Yourself" by Audioslave when I woke up this morning, and it didn't feel like it was in a mocking tone. It felt more like an anthem. My mom told me after I got out of the shower that we weren't going to eat at the beach club on the resort. That made me really happy.
I guess I haven't said anything about where we're staying up to this point. Since my dad was in the military for twenty years, we get to go to special military recreation places for discounts compared to other places we could stay. I've only seen the name of this place once, so I don't remember it now, but it's a very pretty military base with a lot of trees and two lighthouses, and it's on the beachfront. The cool thing is that we're on a point that juts out to the north, so even though we're on the east coast, we see the sun set over the ocean. Maybe that didn't make a lot of sense the way it was written, but that's okay.
Anyway, that's the cool part about the base. The uncool parts are that we don't really have a very nice room, except for the balcony. There's also no wireless on the premises. Well, there is wireless, but the router (Wireless Escape) costs $3.50 an hour to use (it costs a lot to escape, I guess). You'd think they could pass the cost of broadband on to the room bill or taxpayers or something, but I guess they're able to make more money this way, since they charge $3.50 an hour. The breakfast, as I've said, is really bad, and there are tons of little kids everywhere. I guess there are little kids everywhere, but you don't really notice them as much as when you're on vacation. It really amplifies the feeling of isolation that had me feeling down Monday and Tuesday.
Anyway, the resort only has rooms on the second and third floors, so we're on the third floor, and there's a lot of blue everywhere because of the ocean, and because they painted the resort blue and they went with blue comforters for the bed and they have blue carpet and pictures about sailing. All of the trees make you feel really secluded when you're driving around the base. I think that they use that fact to their advantage. I saw one building, I think it was the 703, and it was really small on the outside. I saw another building elsewhere that was on a hill, and at the base of the hill was a solid tan door. And then I see dirt roads sometimes that go really far into the trees before you even see a gate to another building. I bet that those buildings also look small on the outside.
Breakfast was great. It wasn't anything different than you can get at any other place, but it was cooked well. I had eggs, bacon, two pancakes, and coffee. Then we went to a huge aquarium in the west side of Virginia Beach. There were a lot of interesting sea creatures, and I got some good pictures. I guess I was a little disappointed that the otters were all sleeping, but the way they were huddled seemed really sweet to me, and when we walked back through on our way out, one of them was awake and just watching nothing. He was cute.
I listened to "Bat Boy" part of the drives (which is a great musical to listen to if you've ever felt like you didn't belong), but after I got through with that, I switched on my Green playlist, which is all music that makes me think of the color green. I also tried to get any kind of wireless signal I could. Mostly so that I could check my email, but I also wanted to do some things on Facebook. It was really hard to get a signal for long enough, though, and most of the day I had my inbox tell me that I had ten new messages but I couldn't read any of them.
After the aquarium, we drove to Norfolk to see the Nauticus museum. That was pretty cool, but for the most part I was distracted by the fact that I hadn't had any lunch and the fact that I was waiting to hear back from Red Robin about my training schedule. Anyway, they had a few sea creatures there, too, but it was mostly a museum about studying the oceans and water and the USS Wisconsin, which is docked in a harbor right next to the museum. They had a cefeteria, but it was under renovation.
When we got outside, I was able to get a signal from a nearby bistro, and I finally got my email messages. Then we found a mall with a lot of restaurants and we decided to eat at California Pizza. They have a lot of different kinds of pizza there, but my sister got pepperoni and my mom and dad got things that weren't pizza, so I was the only one with a cool pizza. I had the chipotle chicken pizza, and it was really good. I usually don't like ranch dressing, but it was spicy, which I do appreciate. It also had black beans and corn salsa, so it reminded me of a Chipotle burrito in that sense.
After dinner, we went to the Barnes and Noble on the second floor (if my voice sounds different in this blog, you can blame it on the fact that I got "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" while we were there. I'm already more than halfway through the book). Actually, that was before dinner. After dinner, we went to the Apple store and I talked with a really cute salesman there. The rest of my family was looking at computers that my sister could take to college, and near the end I got to show my Apple expertise and talk hardware in front of Jesse (the salesman's name). He made a comment about the store hiring, but I said it wouldn't work too well because I'm from Nebraska. Later, my mom said that he probably only said it because he liked me. I wouldn't mind if that were true, but dating would sure be a bitch.
We went to the candle store and I registered my phone for Facebook Mobile before we left the mall, and once we got into the car I started reading my new book, which is what I've been doing up until the point when I got ready for bed. I can see a few parallels between me and Charlie: thinking about almost everything, talking with my freshman writing teacher (I wonder how Doc is doing, actually), and thinking about infinity and feeling infinite, and liking the kind of music that you can't really dance to, and making thoughtful playlists and wondering if people are really happier than me. I have a habit of picking up the writing style of authors I've been reading for a little while, but my voice usually comes back after I'm done reading the book. If I keep going at the rate I was today, I'll be done tomorrow, definitely.
I don't know what I'm getting from reading this book, personally, but I know that I like it. I think about how the author thought of writing it, and what others thought when they read it. I know that there are some things I don't believe about it, but these things are usually opinions that characters in the book have about life.
I can definitely relate to Charlie on the level of a wallflower, though. I guess anybody who would read the book could, though, unless they just like to read.
I guess I haven't said anything about where we're staying up to this point. Since my dad was in the military for twenty years, we get to go to special military recreation places for discounts compared to other places we could stay. I've only seen the name of this place once, so I don't remember it now, but it's a very pretty military base with a lot of trees and two lighthouses, and it's on the beachfront. The cool thing is that we're on a point that juts out to the north, so even though we're on the east coast, we see the sun set over the ocean. Maybe that didn't make a lot of sense the way it was written, but that's okay.
Anyway, that's the cool part about the base. The uncool parts are that we don't really have a very nice room, except for the balcony. There's also no wireless on the premises. Well, there is wireless, but the router (Wireless Escape) costs $3.50 an hour to use (it costs a lot to escape, I guess). You'd think they could pass the cost of broadband on to the room bill or taxpayers or something, but I guess they're able to make more money this way, since they charge $3.50 an hour. The breakfast, as I've said, is really bad, and there are tons of little kids everywhere. I guess there are little kids everywhere, but you don't really notice them as much as when you're on vacation. It really amplifies the feeling of isolation that had me feeling down Monday and Tuesday.
Anyway, the resort only has rooms on the second and third floors, so we're on the third floor, and there's a lot of blue everywhere because of the ocean, and because they painted the resort blue and they went with blue comforters for the bed and they have blue carpet and pictures about sailing. All of the trees make you feel really secluded when you're driving around the base. I think that they use that fact to their advantage. I saw one building, I think it was the 703, and it was really small on the outside. I saw another building elsewhere that was on a hill, and at the base of the hill was a solid tan door. And then I see dirt roads sometimes that go really far into the trees before you even see a gate to another building. I bet that those buildings also look small on the outside.
Breakfast was great. It wasn't anything different than you can get at any other place, but it was cooked well. I had eggs, bacon, two pancakes, and coffee. Then we went to a huge aquarium in the west side of Virginia Beach. There were a lot of interesting sea creatures, and I got some good pictures. I guess I was a little disappointed that the otters were all sleeping, but the way they were huddled seemed really sweet to me, and when we walked back through on our way out, one of them was awake and just watching nothing. He was cute.
I listened to "Bat Boy" part of the drives (which is a great musical to listen to if you've ever felt like you didn't belong), but after I got through with that, I switched on my Green playlist, which is all music that makes me think of the color green. I also tried to get any kind of wireless signal I could. Mostly so that I could check my email, but I also wanted to do some things on Facebook. It was really hard to get a signal for long enough, though, and most of the day I had my inbox tell me that I had ten new messages but I couldn't read any of them.
After the aquarium, we drove to Norfolk to see the Nauticus museum. That was pretty cool, but for the most part I was distracted by the fact that I hadn't had any lunch and the fact that I was waiting to hear back from Red Robin about my training schedule. Anyway, they had a few sea creatures there, too, but it was mostly a museum about studying the oceans and water and the USS Wisconsin, which is docked in a harbor right next to the museum. They had a cefeteria, but it was under renovation.
When we got outside, I was able to get a signal from a nearby bistro, and I finally got my email messages. Then we found a mall with a lot of restaurants and we decided to eat at California Pizza. They have a lot of different kinds of pizza there, but my sister got pepperoni and my mom and dad got things that weren't pizza, so I was the only one with a cool pizza. I had the chipotle chicken pizza, and it was really good. I usually don't like ranch dressing, but it was spicy, which I do appreciate. It also had black beans and corn salsa, so it reminded me of a Chipotle burrito in that sense.
After dinner, we went to the Barnes and Noble on the second floor (if my voice sounds different in this blog, you can blame it on the fact that I got "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" while we were there. I'm already more than halfway through the book). Actually, that was before dinner. After dinner, we went to the Apple store and I talked with a really cute salesman there. The rest of my family was looking at computers that my sister could take to college, and near the end I got to show my Apple expertise and talk hardware in front of Jesse (the salesman's name). He made a comment about the store hiring, but I said it wouldn't work too well because I'm from Nebraska. Later, my mom said that he probably only said it because he liked me. I wouldn't mind if that were true, but dating would sure be a bitch.
We went to the candle store and I registered my phone for Facebook Mobile before we left the mall, and once we got into the car I started reading my new book, which is what I've been doing up until the point when I got ready for bed. I can see a few parallels between me and Charlie: thinking about almost everything, talking with my freshman writing teacher (I wonder how Doc is doing, actually), and thinking about infinity and feeling infinite, and liking the kind of music that you can't really dance to, and making thoughtful playlists and wondering if people are really happier than me. I have a habit of picking up the writing style of authors I've been reading for a little while, but my voice usually comes back after I'm done reading the book. If I keep going at the rate I was today, I'll be done tomorrow, definitely.
I don't know what I'm getting from reading this book, personally, but I know that I like it. I think about how the author thought of writing it, and what others thought when they read it. I know that there are some things I don't believe about it, but these things are usually opinions that characters in the book have about life.
I can definitely relate to Charlie on the level of a wallflower, though. I guess anybody who would read the book could, though, unless they just like to read.
Wednesday, May 28
Today was a lot better than any other day in the last two weeks. I
heard the song "Be Yourself" by Audioslave when I woke up this
morning, and it didn't feel like it was in a mocking tone. It felt
more like an anthem. My mom told me after I got out of the shower
that we weren't going to eat at the beach club on the resort. That
made me really happy.
heard the song "Be Yourself" by Audioslave when I woke up this
morning, and it didn't feel like it was in a mocking tone. It felt
more like an anthem. My mom told me after I got out of the shower
that we weren't going to eat at the beach club on the resort. That
made me really happy.
I guess I haven't said anything about where we're staying up to this
point. Since my dad was in the military for twenty years, we get to
go to special military recreation places for discounts compared to
other places we could stay. I've only seen the name of this place
once, so I don't remember it now, but it's a very pretty military base
with a lot of trees and two lighthouses, and it's on the beachfront.
The cool thing is that we're on a point that juts out to the north, so
even though we're on the east coast, we see the sun set over the
ocean. Maybe that didn't make a lot of sense the way it was written,
but that's okay.
Anyway, that's the cool part about the base. The uncool parts are
that we don't really have a very nice room, except for the balcony.
There's also no wireless on the premises. Well, there is wireless,
but the router (Wireless Escape) costs $3.50 an hour to use (it costs
a lot to escape, I guess). You'd think they could pass the cost of
broadband on to the room bill or taxpayers or something, but I guess
they're able to make more money this way, since they charge $3.50 an
hour. The breakfast, as I've said, is really bad, and there are tons
of little kids everywhere. I guess there are little kids everywhere,
but you don't really notice them as much as when you're on vacation.
It really amplifies the feeling of isolation that had me feeling down
Monday and Tuesday.
Anyway, the resort only has rooms on the second and third floors, so
we're on the third floor, and there's a lot of blue everywhere because
of the ocean, and because they painted the resort blue and they went
with blue comforters for the bed and they have blue carpet and
pictures about sailing. All of the trees make you feel really
secluded when you're driving around the base. I think that they use
that fact to their advantage. I saw one building, I think it was the
703, and it was really small on the outside. I saw another building
elsewhere that was on a hill, and at the base of the hill was a solid
tan door. And then I see dirt roads sometimes that go really far into
the trees before you even see a gate to another building. I bet that
those buildings also look small on the outside.
Breakfast was great. It wasn't anything different than you can get at
any other place, but it was cooked well. I had eggs, bacon, two
pancakes, and coffee. Then we went to a huge aquarium in the west
side of Virginia Beach. There were a lot of interesting sea
creatures, and I got some good pictures. I guess I was a little
disappointed that the otters were all sleeping, but the way they were
huddled seemed really sweet to me, and when we walked back through on
our way out, one of them was awake and just watching nothing. He was
cute.
I listened to "Bat Boy" part of the drives (which is a great musical
to listen to if you've ever felt like you didn't belong), but after I
got through with that, I switched on my Green playlist, which is all
music that makes me think of the color green. I also tried to get any
kind of wireless signal I could. Mostly so that I could check my
email, but I also wanted to do some things on Facebook. It was really
hard to get a signal for long enough, though, and most of the day I
had my inbox tell me that I had ten new messages but I couldn't read
any of them.
After the aquarium, we drove to Norfolk to see the Nauticus museum.
That was pretty cool, but for the most part I was distracted by the
fact that I hadn't had any lunch and the fact that I was waiting to
hear back from Red Robin about my training schedule. Anyway, they had
a few sea creatures there, too, but it was mostly a museum about
studying the oceans and water and the USS Wisconsin, which is docked
in a harbor right next to the museum. They had a cefeteria, but it
was under renovation.
When we got outside, I was able to get a signal from a nearby bistro,
and I finally got my email messages. Then we found a mall with a lot
of restaurants and we decided to eat at California Pizza. They have a
lot of different kinds of pizza there, but my sister got pepperoni and
my mom and dad got things that weren't pizza, so I was the only one
with a cool pizza. I had the chipotle chicken pizza, and it was
really good. I usually don't like ranch dressing, but it was spicy,
which I do appreciate. It also had black beans and corn salsa, so it
reminded me of a Chipotle burrito in that sense.
After dinner, we went to the Barnes and Noble on the second floor (if
my voice sounds different in this blog, you can blame it on the fact
that I got "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" while we were there. I'm
already more than halfway through the book). Actually, that was before
dinner. After dinner, we went to the Apple store and I talked with a
really cute salesman there. The rest of my family was looking at
computers that my sister could take to college, and near the end I got
to show my Apple expertise and talk hardware in front of Jesse (the
salesman's name). He made a comment about the store hiring, but I
said it wouldn't work too well because I'm from Nebraska. Later, my
mom said that he probably only said it because he liked me. I
wouldn't mind if that were true, but dating would sure be a bitch.
We went to the candle store and I registered my phone for Facebook
Mobile before we left the mall, and once we got into the car I started
reading my new book, which is what I've been doing up until the point
when I got ready for bed. I can see a few parallels between me and
Charlie: thinking about almost everything, talking with my freshman
writing teacher (I wonder how Doc is doing, actually), and thinking
about infinity and feeling infinite, and liking the kind of music that
you can't really dance to, and making thoughtful playlists and
wondering if people are really happier than me. I have a habit of
picking up the writing style of authors I've been reading for a little
while, but my voice usually comes back after I'm done reading the
book. If I keep going at the rate I was today, I'll be done tomorrow,
definitely.
I don't know what I'm getting from reading this book, personally, but
I know that I like it. I think about how the author thought of
writing it, and what others thought when they read it. I know that
there are some things I don't believe about it, but these things are
usually opinions that characters in the book have about life.
I can definitely relate to Charlie on the level of a wallflower,
though. I guess anybody who would read the book could, though, unless
they just like to read.
Monday, June 2
Clouds
Well, that one is a bunny
And that one is a star,
And I can't see that one
Because it's too far.
These big puffs of water that hang in the air
Are almost too beautiful for it to be fair.
(chorus)
Well, if I had a paintbrush
And a canvas of sky,
I'd make pictures in the Heavens
About you and I.
But the clouds that are up there
Are great to pretend.
If we just have each other,
We're okay in the end.
Now, that one is a puma
And he's not really mad,
He's really kinda funny,
'Cause he's got a salad.
And that one's pretty special
For as far as I see,
It looks like people kissing,
That one's you, n'then there's me.
(Chorus)
And that one's quite something,
And I'll tell you why.
It's a little boy and his best friend
Both saying goodbye.
These clouds are all fragile,
And they'll all fade away,
But if it's alright with you,
I'll stay with you all day.
(Chorus)
And that one is a star,
And I can't see that one
Because it's too far.
These big puffs of water that hang in the air
Are almost too beautiful for it to be fair.
(chorus)
Well, if I had a paintbrush
And a canvas of sky,
I'd make pictures in the Heavens
About you and I.
But the clouds that are up there
Are great to pretend.
If we just have each other,
We're okay in the end.
Now, that one is a puma
And he's not really mad,
He's really kinda funny,
'Cause he's got a salad.
And that one's pretty special
For as far as I see,
It looks like people kissing,
That one's you, n'then there's me.
(Chorus)
And that one's quite something,
And I'll tell you why.
It's a little boy and his best friend
Both saying goodbye.
These clouds are all fragile,
And they'll all fade away,
But if it's alright with you,
I'll stay with you all day.
(Chorus)
Tuesday, May 27
I couldn't sleep last night because of thoughts running through my head and snores running like a lawn mower long overdue for retirement. That said, it surprised me that I woke up as early as 8:30 this morning. It probably had something to do with the large amount of activity progressing around my bed. I don't usually sleep well with activity around me.
Breakfast was, I dare say, on par with if not worse than the insanity that was Sodexho. My dad liked it, nobody else did. In the meantime, we drove down to the boardwalk and made attempts at getting tans. We all failed. Then, our attention was brought to the shops on the street next to the boardwalk. I knew after roughly the second shop that all of them were going to have mostly identical products, ranging from crap you put on a shelf/desk and then forget about for the rest of your life except when you dust to crass shirts with such clever phrases as "I'M SHY ...but I have a huge dick," and/or pictures of women in some wilderness spot, with some kind of high-power firearm, wearing nothing but some kind of underwear. This reaffirmed my strong, red-blooded Christian belief that unless you like booze, bullets and boobs, you're not a real man.
It might have been the amount of fluid I'd consumed during the day combined with the insane heat of the car when we got back in, or possibly it was just my state of heart, but I felt incredibly nauseous for at least half of the drive back to the hotel. That feeling came again after a short while, when I ate some pizza from the poolside cabana and then tried to tan some more on the beach (still failure). It lasted until about the time I got back to the room, and shortly after my dad walked in, I had to use the bathroom. It was diarrhea, which is my body's way of telling me that not even it believes I'm enjoying myself. My stomach churned for a time afterward, but I ignored it until we went to the nearby lighthouse. Walking up all of those steps didn't seem to have that much of an impact on my legs while we were at the top, but on the way down my thighs felt incredibly awkward, and when I took the first stair outside of the lighthouse my legs felt suddenly like completely giving out. I made sure to hold onto the handrail on the way back to the car, as I was the last one in line and I didn't think anybody would have noticed me falling to the ground behind them all.
We went to a predominantly seafood-oriented restaurant for dinner. On the way there I made attempts to find routers I could link to, and felt an incredible rush of excitement when, for two seconds, I was logged on to Facebook. If I had the opportunity to get a real message out to a friend as opposed to the 140-letter tweets I'm currently able to send, I would have been much more excited. I couldn't, and I had a chicken quesadilla for dinner.
Breakfast was, I dare say, on par with if not worse than the insanity that was Sodexho. My dad liked it, nobody else did. In the meantime, we drove down to the boardwalk and made attempts at getting tans. We all failed. Then, our attention was brought to the shops on the street next to the boardwalk. I knew after roughly the second shop that all of them were going to have mostly identical products, ranging from crap you put on a shelf/desk and then forget about for the rest of your life except when you dust to crass shirts with such clever phrases as "I'M SHY ...but I have a huge dick," and/or pictures of women in some wilderness spot, with some kind of high-power firearm, wearing nothing but some kind of underwear. This reaffirmed my strong, red-blooded Christian belief that unless you like booze, bullets and boobs, you're not a real man.
It might have been the amount of fluid I'd consumed during the day combined with the insane heat of the car when we got back in, or possibly it was just my state of heart, but I felt incredibly nauseous for at least half of the drive back to the hotel. That feeling came again after a short while, when I ate some pizza from the poolside cabana and then tried to tan some more on the beach (still failure). It lasted until about the time I got back to the room, and shortly after my dad walked in, I had to use the bathroom. It was diarrhea, which is my body's way of telling me that not even it believes I'm enjoying myself. My stomach churned for a time afterward, but I ignored it until we went to the nearby lighthouse. Walking up all of those steps didn't seem to have that much of an impact on my legs while we were at the top, but on the way down my thighs felt incredibly awkward, and when I took the first stair outside of the lighthouse my legs felt suddenly like completely giving out. I made sure to hold onto the handrail on the way back to the car, as I was the last one in line and I didn't think anybody would have noticed me falling to the ground behind them all.
We went to a predominantly seafood-oriented restaurant for dinner. On the way there I made attempts to find routers I could link to, and felt an incredible rush of excitement when, for two seconds, I was logged on to Facebook. If I had the opportunity to get a real message out to a friend as opposed to the 140-letter tweets I'm currently able to send, I would have been much more excited. I couldn't, and I had a chicken quesadilla for dinner.
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