sorry lassie

It's time to part ways with this love child. You were just okay. I had bigger hopes for you, but sometimes the best laid plans go astray. Story of my life.

Find me here.

fate worse than death

Imagine yourself being trapped in a box that gives you roughly an inch of space to your left, right, and ceiling. Maybe it's just me, but that scenario makes me cringe like no other.

you, only you

There's a reason why I don't involve myself with arts and craft, that's why I'm a photography guy. Photography is cleaner and "easier" to maintain. I don't even post process (frankly because I am terrible at it, but I'm learning). However, today I broke out the paint and paper. Lesson learned? It's terribly messy. Nothing has changed. There's a reason why they handed out smocks to you in art class when you were little. The paint has a tendency to get everywhere. I'm sure there are splatters on my shirt, but I wouldn't know unless I looked carefully (wearing a tie-dyed shirt). It was a little project for a close and dear friend. Unfortunately I managed to botch up painting even a simply character. I cannot, for the life of me, seem to convey depth and shadows while painting or even drawing. Oh well, at least the deed was done and the project completed. Not without getting paint all over my fingers though, but oddly enough I like that part. I seem to think it makes me seem more "legit. " Maybe I'll do more painting in the future for fun.

it's the beginning of something new, but it's alright because i'm afraid too

It's the season of Lent. Normally I don't do anything special during these 40 days, but I decided that maybe I should invest my time and energy into bettering myself. They say it takes 21 days to break a habit, so with that logic 40 days should knock it dead right? I just want to instill qualities within myself that I can respect. I'll try to be more consistent with my entries to update all my eager and adoring fans (hah!) concerning my struggle.

The List

1. Pop: For those of you not familiar with this term; soda, soda pop, coke, carbonated beverages, etc. Not a huge fan of this, but I do find myself visiting the vending machines for a late night drink.
   
2. Ordering in: This will probably be a hard habit to kick, especially considering the crowd that I run with. I'll need to stock up on food by other means or walk to the location itself and order. At least I'll burn calories in the process.

That's it for all the habits I want to kick. I decided to add a twist to Lent though. I know the idea is to be sacrificial, but I also wanted to pick up habits. Reverse sacrifice?

The List cont.

1. Read the Bible: This should be a given in my life, but unfortunately I have this terrible tendency to neglect reading the Word. Oops. A goal would be to, at least, make it through all the Gospels.
2. Be encouraging: Life is tough enough as it is. I want to bring people up and just give them props, or encouragements whenever I see something that I feel is deserving. We all need a pick-me-up every now and then. It's important that we get acknowledgment.
3. Take a picture daily: Actually this is probably going to be a tough one, despite the fact that I'm suppose to be the "photographer." However, I have 8 rolls of films and possibly a new speedlight coming to keep my interest soaring.
4. Finish a leisure book: Pretty straightforward. With all the time I waste, I should be able to get a book in. Currently working on "Searching for God Knows What" by Donald Miller.

Well that's it. That's my list. Hopefully it's not more than I can accomplish. I simply ask, no beg, you to keep me accountable; especially on ordering in and taking a picture daily. I'll try my best to update more frequently with my struggles or conquests.

candy rose and one sweet regret

In my uneven scrawl, I write out "Will you go out with me?" I quickly fold the paper in half after reviewing my sloppy penmanship for any mistakes. I stuff the slip deep into the box lest someone tries to read what I had written. With my deed committed, I walk away with a nervous bounce. My balms are sweaty from the bold move.

I spend the majority of the first part of the day wondering what she'll say when she receives the note. Will she say yes? What the hell did I just do? My mind wanders and needless to say I don't pay much attention to my studies that day. We didn't share any of the same classes, so I wouldn't know her reaction until later during the day.

The bell rang, signaling the end of fifth period. I scamper off to meet her as she rushes off to her sixth period while I did the same. We meet outside near the amphitheater steps. My heart beats rapidly while I stand before her. She keeps her gaze towards the ground. In her arms, she clutches her class books close to her chest. Her hair falls across her eyes, hiding her eyes from me. Did you happen to get my note? Yeah, I did. Uhm...so...what do ya think? She lifts her head up and looks at me with shifty eyes and giggles nervously. Sure.

A few days later, she asks me out to Sadie Hawkins. A few weeks after that, we ended things. Lesson to be learned here: Don't ask a girl out with a candy gram, especially if you cannot connect with her on a conversational level. Even if she is pretty.

Happy Valentine's Day

the sun rises again

It's been a while since I've routinely stayed up late enough to watch the sun rise as I crawl into bed. There's something about the wee hours before the dawn that appeals to me. Soft music playing in the background [crack the shutters by snow patrol] and my tired dreary face lit by a lone desk lamp. Eerie nightly noises creep in from the big, bad world beyond the window. The only thing missing to complete this picture is a steaming cup of coffee and a burning cigarette. Sadly I don't have a coffeemaker, or beans for that matter and I don't smoke cigarettes.

I tend to do a lot of pondering at this hour. Sit back, stretch, loosen up by popping my joints and writing. Writing. It helps me clear my mind and unwind from the exhaustion of the day previous. I ought to add reading to this list, but I am a bad reader when I'm bone tired. The kind of tired where I feel sore all over my body; especially in my back. It's as if my spine is protesting my decision to forgo sleep and tries to see how much pain it can inflict before I finally give in. It'll get its wish soon.

I like to take time to reflect over the things that trouble me. The thought process is linear. I tend to focus on the future, what I have on my list of things to do, the present, what troubles me currently and the past, regrets that I have trouble forgetting. It's a deadly trio and it often leaves me with a bitter feeling in my mouth as if I bit into a ginger root. Damn ginger roots that disguises itself like real food, you always get me. Always.

There's also something about this time that allows me to connect to my roots. Praise music is no stranger to my late night sessions. It's a constant companion that keeps me company during these periods. Late nights, pensive mood and God seem to a match made in heaven. [Har har].

On one hand, I'm glad that I am able to have this part of my life back. On the other hand, I tend to oversleep during the day and skip my classes indiscriminately. The last need I need is a repeat of the event now infamously known as Fall Debacle '08. If you're wondering what I mean and why you don't know, it's because it's really only relevant to my life. Sorry, you're not invited.

sentimental value

When I first laid eyes on it, nothing seemed to pop. It was so plain in design, minimalist and somewhat drab. It's just a jacket and what the hell is the north face?

That was roughly eight years ago and I still wear that jacket to this day. Granted, most of the fleece lining has fallen off and it has seen better days. Wind passes right through it like Mexican food through my digestive tract. Nowadays I mostly keep it around for sentimental purposes.

Throughout its lifespan, I've done some rather crazy things to it. For instance, my first year in high school, I treated the jacket as my personal filing cabinet. The left chest pocket held my cache of class notes all neatly folded and my other pockets contained my writing utensils. The insanity even went as far as carrying a calculator, scissor, mini stapler, highlighter, sticky notes and other miscellaneous items in the jacket. To this day, I'm not quite sure what compelled me to stuff my pocket with all those items, but I am sure I've had a few moments when it has come in handy.

Don't worry. These days, the Denali lives a quieter existence, draped over my body as a personal reminder of days long gone.

as if it couldn't get any worse

I don't quite understand dentists. I completely dread the two days a year when I find myself reclined in a chair with a stranger's hand shoved down my throat. Perhaps the negativity stems from the invasion of privacy (it's my mouth...gross), the lingering odor of disinfectants and what I can only assume is the rotting stench from the pile of collected teeth, or quite simply the pain and torture that is afflicted on my poor teeth. I'm positively convinced the dental hygienist are only one step below serial killers. With some professional training, they could make a career out of their skills with the CIA torturing war criminals. The idea of trusting my dental hygiene to a person with a high school diploma is mind boggling. Guess it shouldn't surprise me that I often walk away from the cleaning with various holes in my gum line from "oops" and "uh-ohs." Lousy sadists.

where's nemo?

Part 2: The Northern Isle
Chapter 5
Day 1

"This place reminds me of the Disaster Transport from Cedar Point." Dave had a good point. The gaudy fixtures and the tacky decorations bore an eerie resemblance to the roller coaster. The similarities stop there though. A strong stench of rotting fish and cheap fog machine air permeated the room. "Is your group interested in the full package?" One of the female workers was asking Dr. T if our group wanted to pose with a giant poster of Emperor penguins like campy tourists. I loved her accent. Ever since I've gotten here, I've been keenly listening whenever a Kiwi speaks. It tickles my fancy. What's not to love? For instance, though I heard her murmur, "Wewld yoa kuds luk to tek e pucture wut t'pingween?" She was actually asking, "Would your kids like to take a picture with the penguin?" OK, I probably butchered that sentence trying to break it down into recognisible Kiwi English, my apologies.

Dave jolts me out of my stupor and we continue moving deeper and deeper into Kelly Tarlton's Underwater World. Apparently it's one of the hot-spots of Auckland and a likely site for our environmental science class to visit. The center offered loads of educational information about the vast underwater domain. I walk over to where a man in a wet suit was talking to a crowd. At first I couldn't understand what all the commotion was about, but then I glanced into the pool and everything became clear. The man was waist deep in a pool with half a dozen sting rays. Those bastards! One of their relatives or cousins killed Steve Irwin. Of course that was in jest. Sort of. Wet Suit Guy was explaining to the gathered crowd about the docile and elegant creatures as they gracefully glided all around him. It's hard to imagine that such a beautiful creature could take down the Crocodile Hunter.

I hopped on board the ride that toured the penguin exhibit. The contraption was a replica snow track that smelled horribly of fish guts and god knows what else. I was accompanied by Dr. T and the other instructors: the graduate teaching assistant and a Professor of Urban Planning, Missy. Dr. T and Missy were deep in conversation about the various species of penguins that lived in New Zealand. GTA and I were simply anticipating the imminent arrival into the penguin habitat.

I'm not sure why I was so keen on seeing the penguin. I'm not a huge penguin fan. In fact that honor goes to this girl in the group, Krissy. I guess paying attention to the penguins kept me from thinking about how awkward it was to be cooped up in a tin box with my professors. This was definitely dropping my social status a few notches. I'll have to do something to make up for this totally uncool moment. Luckily the ride wasn't unbearable. The penguin were quite the stars and I spent my time behind the looking glass, snapping off a few shots of them. Finally the ride ended and I hopped off and away from the professors without another word.

I wandered into the section of the aquarium where they house the fish. All sorts of obscure sea creatures that you wouldn't even know existed unless you saw them yourself. All the usual suspects were there: clown fish, sea horses, sharks, etc. The real treasure was stumbling upon the crayfish exhibit. I was completely taken back by what I saw. Back at home, there was a creek that ran along the park where a few friends and I would go fishing for crayfish. Except, the crayfish that I was looking at was easily two feet long. I couldn't understand how it could grow that big. Steroids anyone?

As we boarded the bus, I was eagerly anticipating the nightlife that Auckland had to offer. Dr. T was giving us the night off to find dinner and explore the city. My mind began to wander while considering all the options that were laid out before me. I could hear the excited chatter at the back of the bus. My thoughts were interrupted as the bus came alive and rumbled down the road.

in pursuit

My eyes dart back and forth, scanning the busy sidewalk as I quietly exit the store, package in hand. The air is crisp as I gulp it in like giant mouthfuls of water. I duck beneath an awning to escape the push of the bustling crowd. With one hand, I deftly wipe away the nervous beads of sweat off my brow. Looking around, I check to make sure the coast is clear before setting forth into the stampede of rush hour foot traffic. My heart pounds quick and skittish inside my chest, mimicking my jittery stride. A large man with a dark black mustache bumps into me. He grunts a quick apology as he continues to shove past my dazed body. Frantically, I check the inside of my jacket. It's still there. I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

A flash of blue catches my eye and my heart stands still, frozen as if caught in the act. The way ahead is blocked by a female officer heading towards me. Her face is a blank mask- all except for her eyes. Her green eyes burn with a fierce intensity like a jade fire that belies her stoic expression. I dart around the corner and start off at an all out sprint, like an outlaw running from the deputies. I weave in and out of the mass of bodies, like a leaf navigating down a rapid stream. I glance behind me and see that she is still behind me. Has she seen me? Did she see what I did? Frightened, I surge forward with renewed intensity. Seeing an alley to the right, I veer into the darken path and continue until my lungs burn red with fatigue. Exhausted, I cast an eye down the route that I took and notice that I am alone.

The hour is late by the time I reach the front steps. Along the way, I stopped by the safe house to gather clean clothes. I stood there with the parcel tucked safely away in my jacket pocket. I smooth the wrinkles out of my shirt and wipe away a piece of lint on my pants. I check my breath. There's a faint linger of my last meal. My last meal as a free man. My finger shakes as I ring the bell. Each second feeling like an eternity weighing down on my heavy shoulders. Finally the door creaks open slowly. I'm greeted by a pair of green eyes. Instead this time, the intensity is replaced by affectionate warmth. My hands fumble as I dig for the precious item. I drop to my knees and look up at her surprised face, those green eyes filling up with tears. My quivering fingers open up the box as I ask with trembling lips, Will you marry me?

final descent

Part 2: The Northern Isle
Chapter 4
Day 1

My eyes scanned the natural beauty of Auckland's skyline stretched out before me. Despite being the most populous city in New Zealand, Auckland reminds me less of New York and more of a quiet bay-side community. Perhaps it's only because from my vantage point, all I could see were rows and rows of quaint colorful houses sprawled out before me. The bustling metropolitan center was across the river, the Sky Tower marking the destination like a beacon in the distance. The scenery was worth the effort I think. All around me, my companions seemed to come to the same conclusion as me. That hike wasn't so bad. I could get used to that.

Earlier that day, we landed in Auckland. Having spent the majority of the flight abusing the movie archive, I set forth into New Zealand with bleary eyes and a groggy mind. I stumbled with every step, struggling with balancing my cumbersome luggage and my own two feet, still asleep from the long flight. We past by a crowd of Maori, the island's indigenous population. Damn, these guys are bred huge. And it's true. Each one reminded me of E. Honda from Street Fighters. Face paint included. Not really. I slowly make my way out of the airport and head towards our charter bus. It's pouring rain outside when we arrived there. Dr. T leans over to me and says, "Get used to this because it will always be raining while we're down here." Splendid. After stowing our gear under what would be our mobile classroom for the next week and a half, we set off towards a number of destinations.

"Argh! My shins are fucking killing me." We just hiked to the top of One Tree Hill, the popular landmark that inspired a song by U2 of the same name. Having spent the last half day cooped up in a metal tube soaring over the Pacific, it's no wonder our legs were having issues dealing with mobility. "Stop whining, just walk it off." A smart aleck remark from someone in the group. While we were making our way up the steep hill, the rain was starting to let up. Now as we were standing at the top, we were able to glimpse the skyline of Auckland clearly. The clouds giving way to the rays of sun, as if like a series of spotlights highlighting the magnificent cityscape before me. "I can't wait until they fucking let us go into the city" Yeah, same here Dave.

Another ten minute bus ride later and we arrived at our second destination, Mt. Eden. We hike to the top of the tallest natural peak in Auckland. By this time, the sun is high up in the sky and the city is fully displayed before us. Mt. Eden's interesting feature is the steep crater in the middle of the peak. It's almost like a mini valley of sorts. I decide to walk along the edge of the crater, hoping to get close to the resident cows that were grazing on the grass. Each step took careful deliberation to avoid the "cow-pies" that littered the field like cans haphazardly strewn about after tail-gating or land mines eagerly anticipating to "ambush" unwary travelers. With my eyes glued to the ground, seeking out every would be "uh-ohs," I didn't realize how close I came to bumping into a cow. Startled, I take a few steps backwards and wipe out my camera. I've never been this close to a cow before, I wasn't sure if they had a comfort zone that they didn't like puny humans to cross into. I stood there quite still, hoping not to antagonize the beast into a kicking frenzy. I wonder if it knows that I love eating beef. Not exactly the right things to say out loud, but I hedged my bets and figured the cow wouldn't understand English. After avoiding any entanglements, I head back to the class and plop down on the bench with them. We each set our eyes out on sight before us. Each one gazing at what would be our playpen for the next three weeks. I am reluctant to refer to it as home, we were more like romantic wanderers.

Zipping through the city towards our next destination, I couldn't help feeling awkward being on the "wrong" side of the road. I wasn't used to inverting my sense of driving rules. Left turn has priority? Right turn must yield? What was this nonsense? My mind felt like it had gone on an acid trip. Not really, but you catch my drift. Also, I most definitely was not clued in to the point that I had to reverse my method of scanning for traffic. Habitually, I am prone to scan from left to right. If I had continued to do so in New Zealand, I probably would have ended up as road kill after ten minutes.

Why is this climb so much harder than the first two? "Maybe because you're already tired from the last two. Or maybe you're just out of shape." Gee thanks, that makes me feel better about myself. "Oh, no problem." Smart ass. My shins are burning by the time I made it up the steep grade. When I reach the top, I am welcomed by the sight of... Mario Land? Mushrooms dot the top of the hill, each one a tempting target for a well needed rest. It was a comical sight to say the least. "What the hell are these things?" Damn if I know Dave. Your guess is my best guess too. Dr. T is spewing off trivia about how young children would often use this hill to go sledding off of. Then he looked around and shook his head. "I was looking to see if there was any left over cardboard so you guys could try it. Guess you're out of luck today." Guess so Dr. T Lucky us. I start wandering off again, snapping off some shots of the landscape around us. I spot the other study abroad group from Michigan State. I wasn't sure how to react around them. Some of the other people in my group had made some small talk with them at the airport since we were all on the same flight. But Dave and I kept to ourselves during the beginning of the trip. Guess we missed out on bonding experience. I wasn't particularly worked up about it. They seemed like a weird bunch to me; however, appearances can be deceiving.

"WHOA AH SH-" Temptation got the better of us, and someone decided to sled down the hill. DJ somehow found a sign somewhere and used that as a would be sled. Unfortunately, the sign didn't hold up well and he was thrown off after hitting a dirt hill on the way down. Not to be outdone by his friend, Calen simply somersaulted down the side of the hill, tumbling every which way until he was finally stopped by a nasty looking bush. Dave and I stood there marveling at the stupidity of our fellow classmates and laughed. "These guys are fucking retarded. Now I kind of want to do that." Go for it, I'll be right here watching your dumbass hurt yourself. "Good, hold my shit."

Dr. T gave us a break from tramping up hills to grab a meal in Davenport. It was a typical bay-side community with rolling hills and white buildings. Dave and I break away from the group and make our way into town. We were both starving from not eating all day. I spot a local and ask her what's good around the area. She directs us to a few locations and we head off seeking them out. Crickey! The prices were ridiculous. We walked out of multiple restaurants after seeing their discouraging prices. $9 USD for a sandwich? Not quite what I had imagined paying for a simple panini. I stopped another local and asked about cheaper alternatives. The old man looked at me with a smirk and said, "You mean affordable. Cheap implies low quality, son" Ouch! Uh yeah, that's what I meant. Affordable.

We eventually settled for a mid-range restaurant. I ordered a salad with a local soda pop. Dave had a burger and a local brew. "Haha! I'm legal here. Hahahaha." The two of us sat there and people watched for a while. We were seated outside with the sun beating down on our unprotected necks. Despite the heat, the weather was quite nice. Every once in a while, a cool breeze would blow through and give us some relief. After we finished eating and were in the process of paying our bill we hit a roadblock. How much do we tip? I glance around at other tables and notice an absence of tips. "Do they accept tips here?" No clue buddy. I hate when that happens. I always try to go along with local customs and traditions. Maybe they don't tip here. "Yeah, that's what I'm guessing." We ended up not leaving a tip for our waiter. Turns out we were right in doing so. Phew.

On the way the way back to the bus, we spotted a fruit stand. Jackpot. A bag of kiwis for 99 cents NZ? No freaking way. Kiwis can go for $4.99USD back home. This was quite a steal. We both grab a bag and chuckled at our fortune. What a great deal.

confessions of a sleep junkie

I enjoy the crisp weather that we've been having lately. Although it tends to be a bit chilly than my jacket can handle, I still prefer the Autumn weather. I love the changing of the leaves and the splash of color that occurs. I think Hobbes put it best by saying,

"Gee, I like this season best of all! the trees are like nature's own fireworks display."

So eloquent and true. I heard another great quote today from Kiwi. We were talking about the gorgeous weather and she mentioned this to me.

"It's amazing how the leaves are actually dying, but there is beauty in it. I hope that's how it is when we die."

Another thing that comes with the colder weather is the lure of the warm and toasty bed in the early morning. I got to admit, I've fallen prey to the coziness of my blanket shielding me from the cool air and skipped plenty of classes because of that. You'd think I'd learn by now, but apparently it still isn't registering. I love it and hate it. It's like scolding your cute, pouting puppy after it did its business where it shouldn't have. Who are you kidding? You can't scold the puppy, you love the puppy. Who doesn't love puppies? Heartless fiends.

I really need to go out and take some pictures of the scenery before it fades and I have to wait another year.

-Author's Edit-

I think it's hilarious how the day after I write this post, I end up missing all my classes and waking up at 4:30 PM.

messy solutions

The other day while leaving work. I had the unfortunate decision to make: walk like a fool or keep my feet dry. Let me explain. It was raining rather lightly when it came time for me to leave work; however, I didn't have the foresight to bring my umbrella with me. The one day I don't scan through the hourly updates on Weather.com comes back to bite me in the ass. What's the big deal? It's just rain. Well, that day of all days, I decided to wear my favorite pair of dress shoes. I couldn't bear to have them ruined by the rainwater. I told my friend about my dilemma and she had this to offer, "Wrap your feet with trash bags." Wow. Trash bags. I'll admit the idea seemed plausible at first. Plastic is water proof and it'll prevent my precious shoes and pant legs from getting wet. I looked around the office and finally found some clean plastic bags to stuff my feet into. Minutes pass and I still couldn't get the hang of tying the bags properly. They had a tendency to slip off and make a mess of things. After a while, I decided my best efforts will have to do and I boldly left the lobby. That's when everything started to go downhill. The knots started to unravel and the bags started to bunch up under the soles. This caused a lot of unnecessary sliding. Not to mention, I completely looked like an idiot walking down the capitol avenue with trash bags on my feet. My face burned with embarrassment with every step that took me closer to another pedestrian. I quickly duck under an awning and phone my friend. After a few minutes of bickering and "thanking" her for the brilliant idea, I decided enough was enough. I grabbed a fistful of plastic and ripped the ridiculous shell into pieces. The rest of the story is rather straightforward. My shoes ended up getting wet, but not to the point where the leather was ruined. Thank God for that.

Moral: Never follow through with ideas that involve using plastic bags as shoes.

correct change only

Great ideas like this don't happen very often. I found this while reviewing the list of blogs that I subscribe to. Unfortunately I couldn't fully enjoy the novelty of the idea since I was in class. After taking some time after class to watch the video, I couldn't help but chuckle. They need something like this in the States. Man-Vending machines. What else are the witty minds in New Zealand going to come up with next?

If they had a female version of this, I wonder what option I would pick: Classic, Romantic, Foreign, Rich, Action, Perfect. Not quite sure those categories would translate over into the female realm. Leggy? Witty? Those sound shallow relative to the male categories. I'm terrible at these sort of things.

Ladies: What category would you pick, and why?
Fellas: What categories would you come up with and which one would you pick, and why?

don't tell me to study, you study!

My amazing plan of locking myself at the library and concentrating on my papers completely failed. I ended up watching the football game online and playing useless flash games during the commercials. I FAIL at life. I seriously have no work ethic to speak of. I was reading Cakalusa's Xanga and I thought he had somehow found out about the lack of work that I do at the office. I had a mini panic attack until I realized that was no way that he could find out, unless my life is a television show. Turns out I was right, the post wasn't about me. My vanity loses again! Good thing though, I still haven't decided whether or not to quit the job. I think I might just stick it out and suck it up for the references.

I decided to be bold today and try something that I've never done before. I enabled the shuffle mode on my iTunes. Gasp, I know. It must be the daredevil in me screaming for release. I am both mildly pleased by the automatic song selection and slightly embarrassed by the poor music tastes. Many songs that I used to listen to in high school finally got the chance to dust off and get airplay again. Some songs were as throughly pleasant as enduring a visit to the dentist. The songs that I didn't like, I deleted almost immediately. Good thing too, because for the first time since I got my iPod I am finally coming close to filling it up. I would rather have it contain songs that I enjoy instead of crap that threatens to shatter my ear drums.

In other pleasant news, my friend Kiwi recorded a voicemail with music from the Jason Mraz concert that she attended tonight. That was pretty sweet of her. I miss her and can't wait for her return to Michigan.

Also, I am throughly ecstatic that Michigan State beat Northwestern today. Good job Green. As for Purple, tough break. Glad you kept yourself pure for us.

i'm not a bad guy, i swear

Disclaimer: Before you begin, I want you to know that I'm going to offend a lot of people and create a bad impression. My words are in jest and I don't really mean it to the exact degree that I'm describing. I'm just exaggerating for comical effect. Plus, I was coming off of no sleep when I made these observations. Tread carefully... over my face after you're done.

The other day in my language and culture class, the professor separated us into groups for reading discussions. The prior night, I stayed awake, burning coal throughout the night, to finish the midterm paper for this class. I was completely deranged by that point in the day. Since I spent the whole night writing the paper, I didn't get a chance to do the reading for the class. Instead of participating in the discussion, I just sat off to the side and observed the members in the group.

In my exhausted and sleep-deprived state, I came to a stunning revelation. Why are all the women in my class unattractive? There is not a single girl that I would consider good looking in any way.

Anthropology is one of those fields where you can either find women who have the girl-next-door complex with sexy librarian appeal or think you've stumbled upon the greatest anthropological discovery of the 21st century: Bigfoot wearing women's clothing... after a horrific disfiguring traffic accident involving 56 consecutive blows to face with an ugly stick. [This is the part where I am completely exaggerating. Press Ctrl+W to submit angry replies]

To better illustrate this point, the "girl" that was sitting directly in front of me was the prime example of the graphic description. I say "girl" because a) she totally looked a man with the masculine haircut and facial structure and b) she had more leg hair than I did. Granted, my leg hair is possibly the worst example of a hairy leg possible, but trust me this girl had me considering writing my Nobel Prize acceptance letter for Best Discovery.

OK OK. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the deprivation played tricks with my mind and their "beauty" was lost on me. I'll take another cursory glance during the next session. I'm not holding out for much hope though.

and i thought my jokes were bad

I was humming a tune while walking to class the other day when something completely out of the blue occurred. I think I was singing the falsetto part to some song quietly when the guy in front of me turns away and gives me a funny look. You know the kind of look you have when you observe something that boggles your mind, like a guy making his own sandwich or something.

I felt really self-conscious and had a shifty eye moment for a while. Sometimes I forget that people can hear me when I hum. This one time back in third grade, I was humming while waiting in line to go out to recess. All of a sudden, the teacher whips around and asked loudly, "Who is humming?" OH SCHNAP!?! Up to that point in my life, I never knew people could hear me while I hummed. I wasn't familiar with the whole sound waves and physics of the thing. Who knew?

They need to come up with some sort of invisibility cloak for this sort of situation. Crushing blow to my self-esteem. Plus, I need to stop humming embarrassing songs.

change we can believe in

You know those people who speak with their mouths but not by their actions? I feel like my boss is one of those people. I don't quite understand what she is being paid to do because she doesn't do much of anything. She passes all of the work onto the interns and sits in her office making personal calls. Some snippets of what I've heard include the tale of her dog running away, the boyfriend troubles of her girlfriend and the facade that the office must maintain. She's always away on "meetings." I wonder if a visit to the hair salon counts as a business expense... Ok enough about my gripes with my boss. What I really want to focus on is my thoughts on working in an office that has an environmental initiative.

The irony here is that even though the main focus of my office is to "green" other businesses, we still maintain an unsustainable office space. Plastic ware, Styrofoam cups, mass consumption of paper, and lack of energy efficient appliances. I can't help but feel like a hypocrite when I speak on the phone to business owners who are legitimately working to make the community more sustainable.

That's the issue though. Are businesses doing this to improve the community and promote environmental sustainability? Or are they just looking to improve their bottom line? I've thought about it many times in the office while I spin around in my chair. I think this relates to Noel's sermon about shrewdness. By cutting costs in areas that can be improved, businesses are indirectly offsetting their impact on the environment. That's what I want, or that's the goal of my job. I remember talking to my friend Ray about how "green" is marketing term to promote "eco-friendly" methods of production, consumption and business ethics. Although the true intent may not be to promote environmental sustainability as much as to promote increased revenue shares; the concept still serves a purpose.

I used to be so gung-ho about the environment, but I feel like my views are beginning to shift. Even if there isn't a catastrophic global climate change waiting to wipe out humanity, I feel there are many benefits to living a non-volatile, sustainable lifestyle. There is real beauty in mimicking nature.

Go Green!

coffeehouse spirituality

Sharing thoughts on faith and spirituality over a cup of joe is probably one of my favorite things to do now. The other night, a friend and I connected over a cup of coffee. It was one of those rare conversations, where I was able to lay my cards on the table and talk about anything. I think we both saw ourselves as two guys in the same or similar situation. After talking to him, I realized that there are a few things in my life that I need to work on or change. For example, I was really encouraged by how vocal he was about his faith. I think that was the point that I took away the most from that night. Maybe it's just me, but I often am reluctant to let others that I'm unfamiliar with know that I'm Christian. It has something to do with my fear of being labeled as a close-minded, intolerant, Bible-thumper. It's not an image that I want branded on me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed of being Christian. I just don't think I fit that label because I'm nothing like that in person. In fact, I'm probably more liberal than most Christians ought to be.
I'll just chew on it for a while.

I need to buy a traveler's mug for coffee, but I don't know where I should buy it from. Should I buy one from Starbucks? Biggby? Caribou? I don't know where I want to place my allegiance. I do need one rather soon though. I feel guilty of purchasing coffee in a disposable cup because that goes against my sustainability ethos. Plus the coffee in the office is terrible. I didn't think it was possible to make coffee taste that bad. Even instant coffee taste better than that liquid crap.
Sad.

i don't want to grow up. take me to neverland peter pan

This reminds me of when I was little and would get excited about the smallest thing. I wonder where that spark and complete abandon of fear went. Nowadays, I'm so afraid of what people would think if I were to raise my hand up with my favorite toy and triumphantly declare its venerated title. I love how Bruno Taylor challenges us to listen to and encourage the child inside us that never grows up.