I'll just be blunt, I didn't think this weekend was going to go well. Okay, at first I thought it was fine, I mean, it was pretty usual, we went stargazing/city watching up at Lookout Mountain and we were laughing, joking, and enjoying ourselves on the car ride up there. It was fine, I was fine. Well, at least fine-er than I had been. As I watched over Golden and Denver from the mountains, I certainly had a lot going through my head. Nothing bad, really, it was just a lot at once. So I was sorting all of those things out all while Modest Mouse lyric, "I see the tiny lights below, and oh my god they look so alone but I don't really feel anything," was coursing through my head while also bracing myself against the cold mountain winds.
Seriously. I was only wearing a thin button-down, an undershirt, and jeans. None of that was anywhere near close to being insulated enough to handle that wind. Especially as fog was rolling in. I will say though, I owe that juniper bush some water or something. It was such a good wind-blocker.
Anyway, so I was a little quieter than usual. Not because of any negative thoughts, just because there were a lot. I-- may have already said that. Point is, I was fine. Until well... until I wasn't. Out of nowhere I just crashed, and I crashed hard. I could not say or pinpoint what happened. All of a sudden my mental state just totally went up in flames. I didn't feel tired, hungry, or anything, I just felt like I existed and that was it. Only just barely existing at that. I was almost completely withdrawn, irritable, just so unpleasant to be around. We ended up walking to Safeway and I just separated myself from everything and anyone. The few comments I did make, were some comments as we passed a horrifically outdated Ron Paul campaign sign (which were far from pleasant), and I think I may have said "Oh, vomit." out loud after I read something on my phone's Facebook feed. It was awful, I felt awful, and I'm terribly, terribly sorry that I had to subject my friends to that. I'll be honest again and say I don't even remember many thoughts going on. Everything was just-- blank. I don't know how to explain it. I do remember feeling overbearingly worthless, but let's not get into that. So from there, they went to watch a movie, and I, well, I left. I went to my dorm, popped on my big headphones, cranked some Alexisonfire, and actually fell asleep with my head on my desk.
Then somehow I woke up in my bed. Yeah, I can't explain that. In fact, I can explain that even less than my roommate standing in our room Paranormal Activity style, but I digress. I woke up, and-- I just expected everything to be the same. For the better part of the morning, it was. I'm no stranger to thinking like that, but it was still rough for the morning. The day got better though, I spent most of it with Sean and Jessi. We just hung out, tossed the frisbee, and came up with some of the greatest useless super powers I've ever heard. I'll have to type those up one day.
Okay, enough digressing. But the day picked up, and I was kinda pushing everything to the back of my mind. We decided to go out to this place called Jump Street, and then just see where the night went. I do like where it went. It feels a little weird typing this out, but I made a friend. We got onto the trampolines at this place, and were just messing around. Jordan was showing off doing a bunch of backflips, and then I totally ate it trying to do a front flip. When I'm getting up, I hear this little voice yelling at me, "OH MY GOSH, YOU CANT DO A FRONT FLIP!"
It's an 8 year old girl. She went on to make fun of me for a solid three minutes, before she stuck out her hand authoritatively and introduced herself as Kinzie. At least, I think that's how it was spelled. I don't know. She's a self-proclaimed "sportsaholic" who plays "every sport she can" along with several instruments. According to her, she was also completely jacked up on sugar, and it really showed. She was jumping all over the place and laughing and jumping with my friends and I. She jumped on my back, and tried at (and was later successful at) knocking me over, she chased Jordan around the entire set of trampolines before jumping on his back and calling him a wimp, and even got Sean trying to to front-flips.
There are some gems of quotes from her too:
"Are you sweating? I don't sweat. Sweating is gross."
"I'M AMAZING" (she repeated this about twenty times before missing a jump and landing on her back)
"You're a wimp, wimp!"
"But you're so tiny! If I can do a flip then you can! Look, I'm only up to here *points at Jessi's neck* on you. You're a munchkin!" (I just about fell over laughing at that one, the look on Jessi's face was priceless)
And so on, and so forth. So what, right? A crazy, energetic third grader who attaches herself to a bunch of college kids just to play around. That's just normal kids behavior, I think. But here's the thing, she's out there jumping around, laughing, screaming, with a brace on her foot. You see, she sprained her ankle either doing gymnastics or soccer, I can't remember which. It obviously hurt her, every time she fell over she winced in pain. But when I went to help her up and asked her if I needed to help her over to her parents she gave me a look like I had just said the worst swear words imaginable and said, "NO. If I have to leave they're going to have to drag me out of here!"
You've gotta appreciate her spunk. This little girl was seriously, physically injured, and she was still keeping the same energetic attitude that (I'm assuming) she always has, and still excited to do all the things she loves. She doesn't roll over and quit. She takes on a bunch of 19 year olds as a challenge. I get it, she's 8, kids are like that, especially competitive ones. But why can't we all have that attitude? Just rolling off of obstacles and keep doing what we love to do.
Hell, in her words, "If I can, so can you."
It's worth a try, right?
So for the rest of the night, I was processing that line of thought and how I would put it into this blog. By some stroke of luck, when we stopped for ice cream there just happened to be a fireworks show going on just behind the shopping center where we were stopped. And on the ride home, 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins came over the radio. I hung my head out the window like The Joker in the cop car in The Dark Knight, and just felt so in tune like I haven't for such a long time. When I got on this line of thought, this belief to just start rolling off the obstacles I started noticing the things I like just a little bit more.
So thank you, Kinzie... or Kenzie... or Kelsey... however your name is spelled, you accidentally saved my mind last night. I went from a blank slate that pondered shaving its head to feeling the rhythm of the wind on my face and feeling at one with the world just because you made me think about enduring. There is about a hundred percent chance you will never read what I've written here, but thank you all the same. I hope you keep that same "can-do" attitude as you grow up. It'll be a long and difficult road, but I want you to overcome all of that like your sprained ankle. One day, you'll be some soccer or gymnastic star and you most certainly will not remember the night you accidentally helped a seriously troubled teen at a Jump Street in Littleton, but who knows? Maybe you will.
In any case, you have my thanks. Good luck with the third grade.
In other News...
As far as The Lingering Storm is going, I'm getting some good ground on the second chapter. It's kind of difficult to write out the parts I'm on, since I have so many plans for where I want it to go, but I'm getting through it. It's mostly just a matter of finding time to sit down and actually write it. I do like where it's going though. I'm still really excited for it.
School is killer, I've got a 25 page paper on Liberal Internationalism due on the 3rd that I'm slowly churning out. Other than that, I met with Dr. Brunner and talked economics with him. I am feeling better about my major again, it was just kind of jarring to have it shaken up like that. I'm hoping that I can keep it that way.
Neuro drinks. I love 'em. They keep me focused and awake naturally. I'm hoping I can get a case of them at Sam's Club the next time I get a chance to get over there.
And that's... all the other news I've got for now.
Until next time...
edit: If you're a regular, you probably noticed the color change. I want to play around with the editor a little more and make my blog just a little more visually interesting. Obviously, it's a work in progress. A color change doesn't mean I'm finished. I'm working on a logo, a picture slideshow, and many, many other things. Exciting, right?
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Preemptive Thanks
Okay, so I'm not to a thousand views yet, but that's okay. I also never post so many times so close together, but I figured I'd take this time to write a little aside.
Thank you.
I really never thought this blog would have close to one thousand views. In fact, I never expected it to be close to one hundred views. I started this blog mostly just to let my family back in Texas know what I was up to here in Denver, but it's grown into a lot more than that. It's grown into a way for me to express myself without having to worry about what other people think of it. I mean, that's mostly because there aren't ever any comments, but still, keeping this blog has really improved my frame of mind by a huge extent. And every time I get someone telling me they enjoyed reading it, I can't help but have a smile on my face.
I know I don't always have the most interesting posts, and some things I write are flat-out weird, but even if the people who viewed the page didn't read it, that's still someone taking the time to at least look at what I have written. Granted, some of my "referring URLs" in my statistics are a little... off-putting (A singles porn site, really?! Come on!) but hey, a view is a view right? And since the majority of the views come from Facebook, I know it's from people like you reading this right now rather than lonely people looking for a seriously scary sexual encounter.
But really, thank you guys. Knowing that I have some kind of audience is a really fantastic feeling. I always said when I started this that if just one person reads my blog and enjoys it, then it was worth it. You guys made it worth it for me. So here's to my 17th post (or is it 18th?), and to being close to a thousand views.
Until next time.
Thank you.
I really never thought this blog would have close to one thousand views. In fact, I never expected it to be close to one hundred views. I started this blog mostly just to let my family back in Texas know what I was up to here in Denver, but it's grown into a lot more than that. It's grown into a way for me to express myself without having to worry about what other people think of it. I mean, that's mostly because there aren't ever any comments, but still, keeping this blog has really improved my frame of mind by a huge extent. And every time I get someone telling me they enjoyed reading it, I can't help but have a smile on my face.
I know I don't always have the most interesting posts, and some things I write are flat-out weird, but even if the people who viewed the page didn't read it, that's still someone taking the time to at least look at what I have written. Granted, some of my "referring URLs" in my statistics are a little... off-putting (A singles porn site, really?! Come on!) but hey, a view is a view right? And since the majority of the views come from Facebook, I know it's from people like you reading this right now rather than lonely people looking for a seriously scary sexual encounter.
But really, thank you guys. Knowing that I have some kind of audience is a really fantastic feeling. I always said when I started this that if just one person reads my blog and enjoys it, then it was worth it. You guys made it worth it for me. So here's to my 17th post (or is it 18th?), and to being close to a thousand views.
Until next time.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Thinking My Fears Out Loud
This is not a "pity me" blog. This isn't a post where I'm going to make a half-assed attempt at some stupid analogy to describe my life, or somehow try to emulate some author I can only dream of being as great as.
No. This post is just going to be me talking about my thoughts for the past couple of weeks that have only made themselves apparent to me in the past couple of days.
I don't know if my life is heading the direction I want it to anymore. I thought I had it all planned out, political economy major, maybe an internship in Washington DC this summer, somehow winding up in a big corporate firm and wearing a suit and tie until infinity runs out. But as I've been sitting in these upper division courses, I keep becoming more and more unsure. Econometrics, as an example, is more or less an advanced statistics class that deals with the application of economic situations given certain samples of income or otherwise. I read this book and listen in class and it all just seems Greek to me. I can do the homework, but when I think about it, and I really think about it... I don't know if I want to be doing math the rest of my life.
In high school, I hated math. Math was always the bane of my existence. The class where I had the lowest grades consistently was always a class with a mathematical slant. Yet here I sit, contemplating a math minor because having an economic based major essentially demands it. I feel like high school version of me would grab me by the shoulders and scream, "What are you doing" over and over again until the message got through. I remember being excited going off to college because I saw that I only needed 3 credit hours to graduate, and then never having to do math again. Now it seems I'd be forced to dive head first back into it. Point is, I just can't seem to make forcing myself to do something I hate a logical action. I keep feeling like if I had to pore over data sets day in and day out for the rest of my life I would hate it. That's not to mention in my International Political Economy class I feel like I'm not making these seemingly basic connections between events, treaties, and economic functions that after rigorous semesters exploring those very same connections I should be making. Every lecture I feel like I'm a step behind when I should be right on stride. I'm even ahead in the readings and still feel that way.
But what can I do? I've been going over everything in my head that I've ever liked, everything that I've ever been good at, and (risking sounding like a pity-seeker) I'm not finding much that's within reach.
I'll make that a bit more specific:
1) I love to write, but let's face it; trying to make a major, a career, is a massive risk. I don't even consider myself to be good enough to even make that happen. These posts that I do are quite literally the only things I have ever finished in writing (not counting academic essays, of course). Even if I somehow managed to make it onto some media outlet as a film critic, all of my film "reviews" that I've done have been oral, and my one that I did write down came off as sarcastic and angry. I honestly don't think I could write as a sarcastic, cynical, angry person more than once and be pleased.
2) Back when I was a kid I loved the idea of being an astronaut. But... seriously, that just means more math. A lot more. Not to mention military air force training which, despite having had family in the air force, I'm really not keen on doing. I know military service would not be for me in the very least, so to jump into that wouldn't be the smartest idea in my mind. Besides that and the math would also be the sciences that I'd have to be incredibly learned in. Geology, astronomy, biology, chemisty, physics, all of those are really, really not my speed. I've tried them with mixed results. For every biology class I've done decently in there was a chemistry or physics class that I completely bombed. I shudder to think of the mechanics and precision required in NASAs work.
3) I've already kind of mentioned film, but it deserves its own category. I love movies, I love talking about them, watching them, writing about them, just about everything about the art of film I am head over heels in love with. So wouldn't it make sense for me to want to be involved in that process? I mean, that sounds so awesome to me so why not go for it? I go to a liberal arts school. A liberal arts school that I am head over heels in love with. A school that I would never, ever even dream of leaving. If I didn't get to graduate on the quad here at Regis, I would say that my college experience wasn't ever complete. And that's the problem; Regis doesn't have an in-depth arts program, least of all for film. I can't leave here. I don't want to leave here. The mere thought of it puts me in the most bummed out of moods. In fact, that thought is the reason I came back to my dorm at 10:00 at night instead of staying down at the Residence Village watching 50/50. That line of thought made me so upset I literally had to be alone for a while.
Beyond that, I can't think of anything else. I don't see good options. I mean, that's probably because I'm kind of tired, and I've been over thinking this for the greater part of today, but... I don't know.
I don't know where I want to be ten years from now. I still have these fantasies of traveling the world, studying abroad, taking a trip to Bruges, Belgium with the girl of my dreams before I'm 30, but nothing substantial. Nothing that keeps me grounded and thinking about the path to get there.
And... I'm out of things to say. There's plenty more going on in my head, to be sure, but I don't know how to write any of it. Maybe that "smoke on the horizon" was a warning (HA, I lied, there's a stupid analogy for you!) and I should have bought a fire blanket.
Until next time...
No. This post is just going to be me talking about my thoughts for the past couple of weeks that have only made themselves apparent to me in the past couple of days.
I don't know if my life is heading the direction I want it to anymore. I thought I had it all planned out, political economy major, maybe an internship in Washington DC this summer, somehow winding up in a big corporate firm and wearing a suit and tie until infinity runs out. But as I've been sitting in these upper division courses, I keep becoming more and more unsure. Econometrics, as an example, is more or less an advanced statistics class that deals with the application of economic situations given certain samples of income or otherwise. I read this book and listen in class and it all just seems Greek to me. I can do the homework, but when I think about it, and I really think about it... I don't know if I want to be doing math the rest of my life.
In high school, I hated math. Math was always the bane of my existence. The class where I had the lowest grades consistently was always a class with a mathematical slant. Yet here I sit, contemplating a math minor because having an economic based major essentially demands it. I feel like high school version of me would grab me by the shoulders and scream, "What are you doing" over and over again until the message got through. I remember being excited going off to college because I saw that I only needed 3 credit hours to graduate, and then never having to do math again. Now it seems I'd be forced to dive head first back into it. Point is, I just can't seem to make forcing myself to do something I hate a logical action. I keep feeling like if I had to pore over data sets day in and day out for the rest of my life I would hate it. That's not to mention in my International Political Economy class I feel like I'm not making these seemingly basic connections between events, treaties, and economic functions that after rigorous semesters exploring those very same connections I should be making. Every lecture I feel like I'm a step behind when I should be right on stride. I'm even ahead in the readings and still feel that way.
But what can I do? I've been going over everything in my head that I've ever liked, everything that I've ever been good at, and (risking sounding like a pity-seeker) I'm not finding much that's within reach.
I'll make that a bit more specific:
1) I love to write, but let's face it; trying to make a major, a career, is a massive risk. I don't even consider myself to be good enough to even make that happen. These posts that I do are quite literally the only things I have ever finished in writing (not counting academic essays, of course). Even if I somehow managed to make it onto some media outlet as a film critic, all of my film "reviews" that I've done have been oral, and my one that I did write down came off as sarcastic and angry. I honestly don't think I could write as a sarcastic, cynical, angry person more than once and be pleased.
2) Back when I was a kid I loved the idea of being an astronaut. But... seriously, that just means more math. A lot more. Not to mention military air force training which, despite having had family in the air force, I'm really not keen on doing. I know military service would not be for me in the very least, so to jump into that wouldn't be the smartest idea in my mind. Besides that and the math would also be the sciences that I'd have to be incredibly learned in. Geology, astronomy, biology, chemisty, physics, all of those are really, really not my speed. I've tried them with mixed results. For every biology class I've done decently in there was a chemistry or physics class that I completely bombed. I shudder to think of the mechanics and precision required in NASAs work.
3) I've already kind of mentioned film, but it deserves its own category. I love movies, I love talking about them, watching them, writing about them, just about everything about the art of film I am head over heels in love with. So wouldn't it make sense for me to want to be involved in that process? I mean, that sounds so awesome to me so why not go for it? I go to a liberal arts school. A liberal arts school that I am head over heels in love with. A school that I would never, ever even dream of leaving. If I didn't get to graduate on the quad here at Regis, I would say that my college experience wasn't ever complete. And that's the problem; Regis doesn't have an in-depth arts program, least of all for film. I can't leave here. I don't want to leave here. The mere thought of it puts me in the most bummed out of moods. In fact, that thought is the reason I came back to my dorm at 10:00 at night instead of staying down at the Residence Village watching 50/50. That line of thought made me so upset I literally had to be alone for a while.
Beyond that, I can't think of anything else. I don't see good options. I mean, that's probably because I'm kind of tired, and I've been over thinking this for the greater part of today, but... I don't know.
I don't know where I want to be ten years from now. I still have these fantasies of traveling the world, studying abroad, taking a trip to Bruges, Belgium with the girl of my dreams before I'm 30, but nothing substantial. Nothing that keeps me grounded and thinking about the path to get there.
And... I'm out of things to say. There's plenty more going on in my head, to be sure, but I don't know how to write any of it. Maybe that "smoke on the horizon" was a warning (HA, I lied, there's a stupid analogy for you!) and I should have bought a fire blanket.
Until next time...
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