In case you don't read the comments (or don't comment- boo), I got this in my last entry:
Sorry to disagree with you, but it really doesn't matter how "mature" a girl may seem. High school girls -- and even freshman, sophomore, and sometimes junior college women -- have a tremendous amount of growing up to do. There's just no overstating it. She's not an adult yet -- not by age, not by experience, not by understanding.
But from the looks of the way you publish your entire private life through conversations on your facebook wall, you're not any more mature than she probably is. So, I don't see a proverbial age gap between you ... simply a literal one.
OK. Fantastic. First off, this is the kind of thing that makes me seriously consider disabling anonymous contents, as I don't like people being able to say things without some way for me to identify them. It doesn't really seem like a beneficial trade for me. And seeing as it's my blog, I should be the one to call the shots here...
Secondly, wow. I'm pretty sure you wrote that just to take a swipe at me on the Internet. And in that, you succeeded. Bravo. But what am I going to do? Respond anyway, even though the actual chances of you reading this are not great.
You took the maturity thing either out of context, or completely straw manned it. I'm not sure which. I didn't see she's ready to lead a multinational corporation. What I am saying is that I find her intellectual maturity and sense of perspective beyond what one would expect from her age. In some cases, even my age. Suffice to say I thought she was older when I first met her.
Also, making blanket statements about women like that seems to be a pretty stupid thing to do. How in the world do you know what everyone has experienced? My mother was 19 when I popped out of the birth canal (there's your mental image for the day). According to you, Mr. Anonymous Poopy Pants McJerk, I should have died from exposure while she was shopping at Woolworth's. She managed to do pretty OK for herself. So let's not make dumb statements like that again, deal?
Heck, we all have growing up to do. Who doesn't know that? I'm 23, and I still feel like a neophyte in the world.
I have to say, the Facebook statement kind of mystifies me. This is where I think you're just taking a shot at me. What, exactly, is wrong with sharing my life with my friends? I don't like secrets. I believe in the openness of information and keeping secrets away. If that's immaturity, I'm content with that. I will contend that is a sophisticated view on such matters, however. Furthermore, these people are my friends, and they have every right and interest to know what's going on with me. Openness is what friendship is all about. But because you live in a lead bunker somewhere off the coast of St. Thomas, you wouldn't know that.
Bob Woodward gave a speech here Wednesday. Hold on, let's wait for my graduated Scripps friends to stop swearing at the screen. OK, done? Great. Fi, who is on track to have a building named after her someday, got a personal meeting of sorts with him and an autograph for Tim. He's a pretty good speaker, as one would expect from the most prominent journalist in history, arguably. He also answered some questions (he took Tim's, which was fun). Most of the speech was centered around his work with the three Bush books, and his interviewing the president during the process of writing them. He made a few jokes about Bush, of course, but the crowd started to annoy me when they laughed at things that weren't jokes. Woodward said Bush gave "short, direct answers" to his questions, and half the audience laughed. Why? Stop looking for things to criticize him about. That certainly wasn't a joke, that was a statement of fact. He gives terse answers. How does that make him stupid? It doesn't. It's just his speaking style, and he gets unreasonably skewered for it. Don't we have enough things to attack him on anyway?
One thing of note was the last question Woodward asked to Bush. He asked the president how history would judge Bush's presidency. George shrugged, and said, I don't know. Nobody does. We'll all be dead.
As you can expect, this answer didn't go over well with the crowd. Apparently Hillary Clinton, when asked the same question, said she would write it herself. Well, that's super, but let's go back to Bush's response. It sounds lame, but I think it's surprisingly wise. We don't know. I think just now we're getting to see the long-term effects of the Reagan presidency. Truman in his own time was hated, now he's lauded as a great leader. So we really don't know. I'm sure had Al Gore said it, though, it would have been received much better. So be it.
He made himself available afterwards, and I shook his hand. And you know what? Bob Woodward has a weak handshake. I could not have been more disappointed. This is a guy that presidents fear, and I got the fish. Boo. But I bet he appreciates the openness of information.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a weekend ahead of me with the Viking Princess that I must get to.
It's been a while since I have had a more eventful period of time. Let's break it down into sections.
Work: I started at CVS, and it's what you can expect from retail, easy and completely mentally unstimulating. I do like the people there, and the managers seem like good people. In Athens, one could do a lot worse. Tim is there as well, which is always a nice thing. What sucks is that I have to do a lot of truck. Truck comes in, by the way, at 4 a.m. on Thursday. I usually work until 7 p.m. on Wednesdays. With practice three hours later, that leaves little time for sleep. Perhaps I should buy stock in Red Bull, as I'm certainly helping their business.
School: Not enjoying myself. Of course, I had two exams Thursday, and I wasn't ready for either. It didn't help I was going on 36 hours or so without sleep. I got my oral exam back for Spanish. The professor wrote, "I expect better next time." That's funny, because I don't. This year is going to be furiously clawing to keep from falling off the cliff, I can feel it.
Sports: Yikes. Football looked bad in losses to Wyoming and Kent. I guess it's back to form for them. But volleyball lost to Miami. Holy crap, that was terrible. I never saw them play so poorly before. They rebounded and pasted BG the next night, but it's still sad to see the home and conference winning streaks ended. The girls were real upset. I guess they'll just be that much more focused now for the rest of the season.
Girl: OK, a bit of a different story. She came down Saturday (though later than intended). Took her to the game- apparently she hadn't really been to a sporting event before, so I think that overwhelmed her a bit. She liked the 110, though. From there, we went to Sonic. She loved the drink selections. We had a lot of fun there, blowing straw wrappers and just talking about a whole lot of stuff. The conversation turned a bit serious, to the subject of "we." We talked about how we met, what we thought about each other at first. I confessed that I was afraid to talk to her at first because I thought she was beautiful. Later, I was afraid to talk to her because I felt myself developing feelings for her. I told her I was surprised how much we have in common, and that as we were talking, I liked her more. We also expressed hesitations and reservations. In the end, we agreed to go for it. Literally, she said, "I think it's worth a shot." Then she blew a straw wrapper at me.
(Full disclosure: She's in high school. And I realize how bad this looks, and we talked about it. She's mature, and the age gap isn't really that big. I know friends dating someone further away from them in age. She is a senior, though. I'm not a pedo or anything.)
After Sonic, we came back to my place. What did we do? Super Mario Kart, of course! That was followed by some Monty Python. After that, she had to go. I took her to Donkey because she wanted coffee (she loved it). Then we were sitting in her car at the end. Because I like quaint romantic gestures, I took her hand and kissed it. She said, "Is that all?" Of course, I said no.
So there we go. I could throw out more "aww" moments out there, but I won't.
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Now playing:
Santa Esmerelda - Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstoodvia FoxyTunes
Facebook must not have a lot of faith in me. I keep seeing this flyer for "How to Meet Chicks." Apparently it wants to teach me how to meet and talk to girls. Maybe tomorrow it can give me dietary advice.
So, the summer came and went. I worked on third shift a lot. I made a lot of money. I made friends. I didn't play much tennis. I didn't see Tim much. I did, of course, attend his wedding, being a groomsman and all. I have to say... drunken bridesmaids are not my friend. This random girl pulled me out on the dance floor suddenly, then said, "you failed" and walked off, leaving me wondering what in the world just happened. To affirm me, the maid of honor assured me that I did indeed fail. Thanks. The same drunk girl later grabbed me again, yelling "Let's take a picture!" So we did, and then she started spinning. Now, we were able of equal weight, so there was no way I was going to be able to stop her. I thought I did well just to keep her head from bouncing off the ground. Not everyone agreed.
So, once again, I am in Athens for the school year. Mercifully, I'm not living in the dorms. I've bunkered down with TR in an apartment a mile or so from campus. It's so much better than dorm life that I'm kicking myself for waiting so long to make this move. However, I have no furniture. I'm sitting on the floor as I write this. Saturday is the first home game of the year for the football team, with volleyball debuting next week. I'm excited.
I'm getting close to filling up another poetry notebook. I'll have to buy a new one. Do they still make the Five-Star notebooks? I like those. Sometimes, I wonder if I'll become famous posthumously, like Dickinson. That would be kind of cool, wouldn't it? Following in the footsteps of my favorite wordsmith? No? OK.
It's about time I admit this: I have a crush on a girl. It's the first one since Hurricane Carolyn, so it's kind of weird. I worked with her over the summer. The first time I saw her, I thought, "Wow, she's beautiful." What's that? That's hackneyed? Well, that's literally what I thought, so shut up. I can't control what goes on up here. And she is. Anyway, I didn't really work with her a whole lot at first. But we did a bit, so we got to talking. I found her to be pretty funny and smart. And, you know, I liked looking at her. As the summer went on, I started thinking that maybe I might like her. And honestly, I really fought those thoughts. I didn't want to like her. I didn't want to like anyone. I wanted to be alone, shut up in my little castle, protected and aloof. By the end of August, though, I couldn't kid myself anymore. I really did like her.
Naturally, the next course of action was to avoid these feelings as much as possible. With the summer ending, our paths were going to part soon. So I thought that I would just go the last couple days of work, come back here, and that would be the end of it. Sort of a flirt-and-run? But I think I subconsciously sabotaged my attempts to consciously sabotage myself (did your brain just explode?), because I told her that she should come visit me down here. I didn't even think about it, I just said it. Then she asked what we would do, so I rattled off a few things. At one point, she said it sounds romantic. Yeah, I said, it can be.
And then: Do you want romance? Well, I said, who doesn't? No, she said, with me. Cue panic. Go with sarcastic, evasive answer. She's having none of it. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't, I tell her. I tell her that I think she's smart, funny, fun to talk to, and very attractive. Ditto, she says.
Well, crap. My plans just went up in smoke. I just went and said what I told myself I wasn't going to say. Now I have to do something about this, don't I? Yes, you moron, you do. Why don't you ever listen to me? She was off not long after that conversation. But- and I didn't think about this at the time, but I guess it's important- we were totally giving each other the eyes for like a minute.
Because I am nothing if not dedicated to failure, I went back to the drawing board. OK, she mentioned she's still sort of trying to patch things up with her old boyfriend. As long as she's sticking to that, we're in the clear. Naturally, a few days later, I get a message from her: It's over with them. Now what? I got nothing. Might as well see where this goes. So we've had a couple of those all-night conversations where you just talk about all manner of things. And the more I've talked to her and gotten to know her, the more I like her.
By the way, she's planning on driving down here to visit me Saturday. I mention this- and the entire story that preceded it- because this probably constitutes a significant step in the process of... whatever it is we're doing.
I don't know for sure where this is going (though I have a pretty good idea of where we're headed at this point), but... I don't know. There's still that part of me screaming get out, get out now!, the part is terrified I'll just get hurt again. The difference this time, I think, is that I harbor no illusions here. Previous girls seemed... almost perfect. She isn't. I see her flaws, her problems. I almost take comfort in that. I don't have to feel like I need to live up to some standard so I can keep up, like I did with Kat. Maybe it will make me more willing to be vulnerable with her. There are other problems which are, well, problems. But those bridges will be crossed when we get to them. At the same time, it's nice to actually go through this again, to care about someone and seem to have them return that. I had forgotten that simple joy, absentmindedly thinking of sharing a moment with that person, being excited to talk to her again, see her again.
Like I said, the waters are far from calm, for both of us. Right now, though, I'm still trying to get my bearings and figure out what's going on. I've sort of stayed mum about this. Previously, I've just yapped about girls to anyone and everyone. I thought a different approach couldn't hurt. I also don't feel like I'm rushing into anything, which is a huge relief to me. If something is to happen, it should happen in its proper time.
That said, I have no idea what is going to happen Saturday. Of course, this scares the daylights out of me. And if you noticed, gentle friend, I have really not told you anything about her. See? I'm not yapping this time.
I guess Blogger has integrated FoxyTunes now, so I can plug my current song in. Wee.----------------Now playing: Daft Punk - Too Longvia FoxyTunes
I hate you
because I hate myself
The way I look
at you
is not true
The way I talk
to you
is not real.
I take myself out
on you
because I can't
take myself out
on me.
I'm still me,
Are you still you?
Or did you
turn into someone else too?
Hold on, I need a moment to get over the fact the title of the last two entries start with the same word... OK. Better now.
I was at Disney World last week, my fifth trip to the House of Mouse. I have frequently said Disney is my favorite place I've been to on this planet. It's a pretty magical place (the shopping bags say so), and I'm able to really loosen up while I'm there. Not this time, though. I came in Tuesday afternoon because I had an interview with UPS; the rest of the family left Sunday morning. So they had two and a half days on me. The whole time I felt like I was playing catchup: Catching up with the people that had already done a lot of stuff, catching up on the sleep I missed for my 6 a.m. interview. I felt rushed, even though I was there until Saturday. Sleep was inconsistent. I ate way too much of food I didn't really want in the first place but forced down because someone else was paying a lot of money for it. Really, I didn't need an appetizer, entree, and dessert at every meal.
I was annoyed because I felt like UPS was a waste of time. More problematic, I rarely felt myself relax. Something about being with my family, being home makes me very tense. I just couldn't let myself be happy. I couldn't let go. And if I can't do that at Disney World, where can I do it? What is the answer? Sometimes I just sit here and try not to cry because I can't figure any of this out. My father wants me to be here because, for some reason, he thinks Athens isn't a good environment there. But I'm generally happier there than I am here.
So now I don't have a job and no car... not sure what I'm supposed to do at this point. I'm quite unhappy, I know that much.
But for your viewing pleasure, the countries at Epcot's World Showcase, ranked based on the hotness of the women working there:
1. Norway: A huge surprise to me, but a quite pleasant one. There was one particularly gorgeous girl working at the Maelstrom ride. She was something, let me tell you. Plus, they had nifty shirts. But really, I'm surprised by this. Didn't know what the Vikings were hiding.
2. United Kingdom: OK, this rank is really just for the Irish girl I chatted up in one of the stores. But she deserves it.
3. Italy: Honestly, I think I've underrated the Italian people for a very long time. But there was a very nice lineup of Italian girls present, especially one working at the perfume store.
4. China: Big upset here. Very cute girls with eager smiles. I can't ask for much more. But their gift shop had some of the most expensive crap in it...
5. Freedom: Ashley's encounter with a French man would probably have her place them higher, but whatever. There are some particularly stunning French women (and I'd be killed if I left someone out), but there's also a lot of, um, homely ones.
6. Japan: This is the big disappointment for me. This is a country of beautiful lilies, and they seem to have taken the carnations.
7. Germany: Meh.
8. Morocco: I didn't really see many women, but what I did see wasn't too impressive.
9. Mexico: Egads. Guess the hot ones were caught climbing over the fence.
US and Canada don't count. They're not foreign.
I was unpacking my things earlier when I found it. I didn't know I still had it; I must have thrown it somewhere long ago and forgotten about it. The curious soul I am, I read it again. The words were still familiar: "I do NOT (emphasis yours) play games and I don't want to string you along."
I think we all know how well you lived up to those words. In the end, all you did was play games. Just a few short days ago, you still were when I ran into your mother briefly. I noticed your fake smile, your faux friendly attitude. If I was motivated, I would wonder what part of you was the truth. Or do you even know?
No matter. I haven't thrown the letter away-it's now where I put such things-but I have thrown you away. If someone reads it and they ask who you are, I'll just say, "Oh, some girl. She doesn't matter."
And just so you know, I'm not playing games.
I was reading an article from Psychology Today the other day about compatibility and chemistry. I enjoy reading it; it's a good read for lay people like myself, and they touch on a wide variety of topics. Anyway, this article talked about what chemistry between two people really is, if it's something that comes natural or if it's made, how to keep it... that sort of thing. At the end, they had a number of quotes from psychologists and other people about the topic. Again, interesting stuff. But one stuck in my craw: Neil Clark Warren, the founder of eHarmony.com, said for a couple to be compatible, the two people must be within one standard deviation of intelligence.
And that statement really chafes at me. I'm sure you've seen the commercials of eHarmony with the really, really amazingly happy couples. You've probably been annoyed by them as well. And that Warren guy... kinda creepy, right? Anyway, if you ever wanted to get on that site, they have you answer a 258-question personal assessment. 258? Good gravy. They use the answers from your questions to set you up with matches.
I'm sure other sites do so in a similar manner (I haven't exactly been crawling the Web looking for e-dating), so this is probably just symbolic of everything else. But love is not a mathematical formula. It can't be rationalized, and it can't be put into a neat little box like people such as Warren apparently want to do. He didn't say couples should be within a standard deviation of intelligence, he said they must be. Many times, love doesn't make sense, and there's no hard and fast rules for who and why people fall in love. A smart person and a dumb person can, has, and will fall in love with each other. There is no logic to love, and it's high time people stop trying to turn it into math.
Also, their little formula for matches has never been published or been subject to peer review. Fishy? I think so. Of course, not every story is a successful one. Heck, there's a chance that even if you filled out a profile, you'd be rejected. And that's after you fill out the profile... 258 questions, remember?
Apparently people were able to find one another before the Internet. I don't think it's doing much to revolutionize love as much as people like Warren claim.
I have started working out again... and honestly, I don't know what I waited so long for. I'm kicking myself about it. But I've cut a considerable amount of fat off my frame and I can see and feel muscles coming back. I've only been at it for two-three weeks and I can already see a difference. Amazing what just a bit of effort will do. I can't wait until I get that hawt stomach again.
Right now, I'm doing 100 sit ups and two sets of max rep push ups every day. It only takes me about 20-25 minutes. I think I'll bump the sit ups to 150 next week, though. 100 is starting to get easy.
Just as a general message... if you're thinking about starting to exercise, don't wait. Just do it. Don't say next week, don't say tomorrow... just go out and do it. You'll be glad you did. I'm feeling better than I have in a long time.
I should also note that I'm not graduating next month. It's been a rough year for me, so I'm going to have to do it again next year. However, TR and I are looking for a place to live, so that'll be fun. I gotta get out of the dorms, though. I can't take it anymore. I think I'm going to try and stay down here in Athens for the summer. I have a couple prospects for employment I'm going to pursue.
I have a pretty awesome tan line going across my forehead as a result of my hat. Being outside is so much better than staying inside. That's a life philosophy.
I've had my bike less than a year, yet the chains are completely rusted. What the heck? This really sucks because Ashley took her car back on Friday. I don't know how I'm going to get to Wal-Mart or Biolife now. Oy.
I have to admit I really took to "Beauty and the Geek." For those of you who have never seen it, it's dubbed as a "social experiment" that pairs a geeky guy with a "beauty," a woman who is pretty (at least by the standards established by some) but doesn't have much in the way of knowledge or skills. The partners then teach each other what they know, such as computer skills, interior decorating, politics, fashion... whatever. As the show stresses, it's not a dating situation. They were showing the second season on MTV Sunday, so I was flipping between that and the NBA playoffs.
It ended up being really interesting, watching the girls learn things they thought they couldn't and the guys acquiring social skills they previously lacked. And, of course, it doesn't hurt to use the show to promote yourself. There was one particular episode in which the guys were versed in dating skills. Mind you, many of these guys had never been on a date before or had little more experience with women. So they learned about dating the way we all have, by reading books about it.
One part that struck me was when some guys were being quizzed and a question came across about what two things should not be discussed on the first date. He answered-and got the point for the question-that people should not discuss politics or religion on the first date. I don't get that.
We live in a country that has a very strange relationship with the spiritual. We've been called and claim ourselves to be a Christian nation (I've always wondered why this claim was so important; we're not flying the Cross on the flag or anything), yet we keep faith at arm's length unless it's convenient for us to invite it in. Need a reason to kick gays? Rally around the Bible! Church this Sunday? Well, I guess I'm not all that serious about my faith. As a people, we refuse to embrace faith, but we also refuse to push it away. It's like we can't decide. When it works for us, we go with it. When it doesn't, we ignore it.
My question is this: Why wouldn't you discuss religion on the first date? And if the first date isn't the right time for that, which one is? The third? Fifth? Twenty second? We're so afraid to offend each other, apparently. Well, if someone is offended by the fact I openly worship Christ, I'm not going to feel sorry for it or apologize for it. Similarly, I'm not going to be offended by someone else's faith (unless that religion is the Ohio State Buckeyes). Here's the thing. If you take religion even at least somewhat seriously, isn't it important to know how the person you're having dinner with stands? I wouldn't want to wait until a seventh date to find out the girl is Jewish. It's just not going to work that way. Religion is, for many people, a defining trait. Hiding it or not talking about it strikes me as dishonest. I want to know if we're compatible on this very basic level before moving forward. If so, great. If not, it's best to know that at the start. A seed can only grow in certain soils, right? I know where I stand. She's going to know that, and I'm going to know where she is. That's how it has to be. Plus, if we are in the same place in this regard, that's a great starting point. Talking about Jesus is a pretty good way to grow closer to someone, I say. I don't understand why we should not talk about something that should be celebrated instead.
Politics is a bit of a stickier issue. I probably wouldn't bring it up on a first date, but I wouldn't run away from it, either. For one thing, it's nice to know if I can hold such a conversation with the girl civilly. If it turns into a shouting match, that's probably a bad sign. Also, if we see eye-to-eye on a couple things, that's great. But if nothing else, it's a point of conversation. Conversation is usually a good thing.
The bottom line here is that it strikes me a silly to say these are not proper first date tactics. This is very basic, very important information about a person. Wouldn't you want to know these things?
Another thing from the show was a competition in which the guys had to memorize what kind of shoes and purses the girls wanted and pick them from a wall of a lot of shoes and purses. This might be my ranting side, but this seems like a pretty unfair characterization of women here. Are they trying to tell these guys shoes and purses are what's most important? That takes a pretty shallow chick to put that at the top of her list of priorities.
You gotta love OU. Mom's Weekend just wrapped up. For those of you who haven't been blessed with the experience, 40 and 50-something moms descended on Ohio University for a couple days in an effort to outdrink and outslut their daughters. That may sound very harsh, but ask anyone who went to OU. It's absolutely true. Moms try to and hook up with college guys (if they haven't drunk them under the table first). It's really... icky as far as I'm concerned.
Off the heels of that eventful weekend comes a new thing: Ohio University SexFest 2007! For a wonder, there's no information I could find about it on the OU site, but here's a picture (sort of) of the flyers posted all over the place. This is the first time something like this is happening; I certainly would have remembered this occurring in the past.
Now, I'm sure the goal of this is to promote discussion and awareness of, uh, sex. Because if there's something we don't talk about enough, it's sex. But look at some of these events. Mass porn watching. What's that going to accomplish except demonstrate who enjoys watching porn with other people? I mean, there's nothing wrong about this week per se... but it just feels very off. I wonder if any parents on a tour have noticed these signs and what they think about it. I'm tempted to follow a group around to find out.
Got to play some tennis earlier today. That was a lot of fun, and I hate myself for not finding ways to play more. Evan and I didn't get to finish our match as our court time was up; I was ahead 2-0 in the third set. But, like I said, it was a lot of fun. And I was outside. I like being outside. So I'm going to try and do more of that. Plus, I took some of my old balls and put them on the legs of my chair so it moves all smooth and quiet. I feel like I accomplished something and that I'm in fourth grade again.
But darn it, my volleys have gone all to crap. And my forehand got real loose at times. And my backhand needs all sorts of work. I love this game, but it drives me crazy!
Based on the couple hours of tennis and the three hours of bike riding I did Friday, I've already started to turn brown. I'm excited for the line around my ankles to become more pronounced.
We're doing another forecast again tomorrow in Intro to Weather. I gotta make a good one if I want to keep my lead in the class. Bonus points are at stake! And I suppose I should study for that exam on Wednesday. And maybe start that paper due next week in history. No rest for the wicked.
Last night, I was relating the tale of the waiter at Rio Grande trying to induce me to drink a shot of tequila and Tep's subsequent argument that I should've taken it, well, just because. I don't know if I qualify as a teetotaler; I can count the number of drinks I've had since I turned 21, though. My decision not to drink really doesn't have a solid reason (we speculate that's why Tep has such a hard time understanding why I don't) aside from the fact I don't drink pop either. Beer isn't good for you, and I try not to drink things that aren't good for you. Oh, if I could only apply that to food...
I take a very ambivalent view toward drinking. I don't like drunkenness, but aside from that, I really don't care if you drink or not. The problem with that is that I'm in college. People expect me to drink. It's as if they want me to drink. When I mention that I go to OU to some people, they give me the whole, "Oh, you guys party pretty hard down there, huh?" I tell them that I don't, and they tend to not believe me. For some reason, doctors are especially skeptical of this. But... whatever. Believe me or don't.
The real interesting thing in my experience has been telling other people in school with me that I don't drink. Some are fine with it. Others get borderline angry, asking what makes me think I'm so special that I won't have a beer. Uh, nothing. I just don't want it. I don't want a giraffe either, but I don't see you getting upset about that. Still others will try and get me to take a drink as if I've never experienced peer pressure before. No, really. I'm fine with my decision. No, just because you give me the "c'mon" voice doesn't mean I'll change my mind.
At the same time, I can see where some people get defensive. Some people do have some measure of guilt about the fact they drink, and I see where they would find someone else not drinking irksome. Along the same vein, there's really no good way to say, "I don't drink." Try it. Didn't you just sound a little uppity? I've tried to minimize this over the years. I decided the best way to say it is apologetically, like I feel bad about. "Sorry, I don't drink. I know. I feel bad about it too." Usually, you have to justify your decision for some reason. I've never understood this. Why do I have to defend the fact I'm not doing something that really adds nothing to my life? It's not like I'm not getting a driver's license or anything. Furthermore, why is it that people who do drink don't have to justify it? I don't get it. Either way, I have a myriad of excuses: Medication, blood donation, the idea of liquid bread is unappealing. I've tried just shrugging my shoulders and saying I just don't dig it, but that just seems to confuse people. Furthermore, people seem more puzzled about my not drinking after I turned 21. I guess they can understand it if I'm underage, but now that I'm legal, I'm not fulfilling my duties as an American.
Like I mentioned, there are those people who seem determined to get you to down some alcohol at some point. I don't get these people either. I'm not forcing you to play ultimate frisbee, why try to force me to do this? However, they're infinitely more amusing. I encountered them mainly during my time at The Post. They seemed enthralled by the novelty of some freshman not drinking at first. They pledged this wouldn't continue. Typical statements included, "I didn't drink at first, either" and "The Post will drive you to drinking." Well, it didn't. All it did was destroy my self-confidence and leave me angry and bitter. Good trade. Some people even offered me money to have a can of something. In retrospect, I'm not sure I made the wise decision in turning them down.
I do have to say, though, that being the non-drinker usually makes you stand out at a party. And most likely, you're not having much fun- I never did. The immortal Bryson Turner described it best:
I'd go to a party and a girl would offer me a drink. I'd say, "Oh, no, I don't drink."
"Oh, wow. That is so cool. I respect that so much." (turns around) "Hey, you want a beer? Cool. You want to have sex later? Oh, don't worry, I just found someone to complain about you to."
I guess we all have our place in the world.
Also, I'm annoyed neither Wal-Mart nor Kroger have refills for my Air Wick. Darn it, I want fresh-smelling air! I'll have to use the $1 Renuzit things in the interim, I suppose. But if you find any Air Wick air fresheners (not the oil), especially citrus-scented... hook me up.
A few things have happened since I wrote here last. If I may, I'd like to reflect upon them.
Most notably, the Virginia Tech shootings. Normally, I'm one of the first to hear about breaking news. This isn't bragging on my part as much as a reflection of the eye I keep on the media. I want to know what's going on. Once upon a time, I wanted to be a reporter. And every so often, something that happens you will remember the rest of your life. I like to know when those things happen. That Monday, however, I did not know about the shooting until after my 12-1 class. I had heard the words "Virginia Tech" at one point, but nothing else made me suspect that something had happened. When I was made aware of the massacre, I threw myself into it. I watched with wonder and dread the video a student captured on his phone. I heard the pat pat pat of guns firing.
It's weird, juxtaposing actual shooting with the blam-blam action of Hollywood movies. If someone pulls out an assault rifle and sprays bullets everywhere, nobody blinks. But if an actual person fires a handgun, I'm rendered immobile. Perhaps we're not as desensitized to violence as we like to think we are. If so, that has to be a good thing, right?
The United States is a country of roughly 300 million people. 33 died that day in Blacksburg, Virginia. That's .000011% of the population. Yet the death of that .000011% of the people in this country is enough to completely stop us. We're stunned. We're shocked. I was so upset by what happened that I didn't go to my class at 3 p.m. I was genuinely disturbed and frazzled by this. I didn't know anyone shot that day, but it still got to me.
Why? Is it the intrinsic value we place in a human life? Is it the reminder of our mortality? Is it the feeling of helplessness, the inability to do anything but stand aside and watch tragedy unfold? It's likely it's some combination of all of that. The death of a single person is enough to shock a community. We really do find worth an value in every life. Shootings like this, like the shootings at Columbine, in Pennsylvania, they remind us that we're never truly safe, that at any moment, something can happen. And really, there's nothing we can do to stop it.
Rest assured, people will try and claim otherwise. People are already falling over themselves to try and use this incident to further their own goals. We need more guns. We need less guns. We should build walls. We should install land mines. We need laser-equipped robots. Certainly, there are changes that need to be made. There always are. Virginia would be well-served to take a hard look at its gun laws, and the federal government would be equally well-served look at interstate gun sales (the gunman got his pieces from eBay).
The striking part is the compromise of what we thought were safe institutions. We think schools are safe. We think a campus is safe. Reality is much different. If anything, they're more dangerous than walking through downtown Detroit at night. You have teenagers and young adults under a lot of stress and a myriad of other problems running around.
We have a bifurcation in regards to what we consider acceptable deaths. When someone dies in war, that's somehow easier to take than when an "innocent" person is killed. On one level, it's hard for me to understand how we can send people to their deaths (that is what a soldier's fate is) and take it in stride instead of someone suddenly being killed. On another, it makes sense. The death of those at war is never surprising. We brace ourselves for that. We're never ready for someone to run around and kill 32 strangers.
The psychology of this episode is interesting. It's a lot easier to understand what happens in a high school setting. It's fairly straightforward. But this is much different. We don't know if the shooter knew anyone, even the first person he shot down. The video he made complicates the matter further. What was he talking about in that rambling declaration? Why did he do this? Why complete strangers? I know criminologists are pursuing the victim angle, but that's a very superficial answer. What did he feel victimized by? Does it have to do with the fact that he's Korean? Is it something else?
We also have to face the fact that on some level, we failed that man. We could not get him the help he needed before it was too late. It seems as though he felt this was his only option.
The grief of the Virginia Tech community has been well documented. I can't imagine what they're going through. But what about the family of the shooter? I have to believe they're even worse off than the families of the victims. At least the parents of slain students can feel like their children were taken from them. They can live through positive memories. The parents of the shooter will forever be haunted by the fact their son is a mass murderer. That's the final memory of him. He's an infamous figure now. There's no way to put a positive light on that.
Like I said, I was watching the news all day that day, refreshing stories on the Web constantly. I had it on CNN nearly for the next 24 hours. In general, I thought the coverage was solid and done well. However, I started to see graphics declaring "Virginia Tech Massacre" in bold fonts and menacing music playing in the background. This is what I have a problem with. We don't need these things played up. Life is not a video game. It doesn't need to be made more exciting. If any story can speak for itself, it's this one. It doesn't need CNN's help in hyping it up. The American media is so far gone, though, that it can't recognize when such sensational marketing goes beyond even insensitivity and straight into hurtful.
Boris Yeltsin died Monday. And for the life of me, I can't understand why this wasn't a bigger deal. His death passed incredibly quietly. We're talking about one of the most important figures of the late 20th century. I would argue that he was more important than Bush and Clinton in the 90s. Taking Russia from the smoldering ruins of the USSR to democracy and the "shock therapy" free markets was no small feat. There were a lot of people who did not want that to happen. Perhaps history will be kinder to him as time goes on, because he's not getting his due right now.
David Halberstam, a Pulitzer Prize-winning writer, also died Monday. Admittedly, I was surprised to hear the likes of Peter Gammons calling him the greatest sports journalist of his lifetime. I had never even heard of the guy. But when writer after writer talks about how amazing and wonderful the guy was, I owed it to myself to look him up. And after reading a few pieces of his, I'm wishing it hadn't taken me so long to find him. He truly is a gifted writer. He writes with a liquid smoothness and manages to write some profound things in a very accessible way. He strikes me as a high-class writer than anyone can read and appreciate. Note that I didn't say he lowers the intelligence of his writing or panders to the lower denominator. He is one of those people who is able to communicate intelligent things in a way a lot of people can understand. It's a very rare talent indeed.
A column of his that stood out to me was his musings on sports and 9/11. He wrote it in 2002, a year after the attack on the World Trade Center. He mused on the tendency for people to characterize sports as a way to unite a town, a country, a people, to lift them up and make them feel better in the face of hardship. We certainly did this in 2001, turning to sports as a way to heal our wounds. New York attached itself to the Yankees' World Series run in October. Halberstam said, though, sports are nothing more than a distraction. They don't heal any real hurts, and they don't really unite anyone. And he argued anyone that the more obsessed a fan is, the more his life is probably lacking. You know, there's a lot of truth to that. Everyone knows I'm a huge Bobcat fan... but more and more, I wonder how much it defines me and how much it should define me.
When I was in high school telling people I wanted to go to OU to study journalism, people said, "Oh, you're going to be a sportswriter?" with notable frequency. After a while, I became snippy at this. Why, I said, do people automatically assume I would be a sports reporter? There were more important things in life, more meaningful things. Sports does not define who I am. It doesn't matter in the long run. It's nice when your team wins, but does it really make your life better? And yes, I'm fully aware of the probably hypocrisy currently spouting from my fingertips.
I wonder... if pro sports went away tomorrow, would my life actually improve? It just might.
I'm sitting here simultaneously hungry and not hungry. You know that feeling? It's a weird feeling. I should probably make myself something to eat, but I just want to sit here for a while. In fact, that's what I'm doing. There was about five minutes between those two sentences. And another five between this and the previous. Hmm.
Easter is my favorite holiday. I know Christmas is part of the cultural zeitgeist, but I've never been that big on Christmas for reasons I've illustrated before. Easter, though, does it for me. It represents everything that is wonderful about the Faith and about Jesus. At church today, the pastor talked about Easter being a time for God to rejuvenate us. I agree. I usually come away from Easter feeling more energetic, more excited about my faith. For those that don't share the Faith, I can tell you that it's a weight. It grinds. It can wear you down. It's good, then, to have days like these to recharge us.
And I do feel recharged. Heck, I was able to get out of bed at 9:30 on a Sunday. That's a good sign, and evidence enough for me that God is working through me. You think I could've gotten up on my own after falling asleep somewhere around 6?
I'm also feeling very reflective, though. Today is about rejoicing for Jesus and His Rising, but I can't help but think of other things on this day. I've been thinking on the past year. What have I done? Who have I helped? Have I kept the Faith? Am I impacting people in a positive way or a negative way? Am I making myself better? Am I doing what God has set me out to do? How can I improve over the next year?
To be sure, these are weighty questions. They're not lightly taken. So I'll probably spend much of the day in thought and prayer... again, a good thing. I just hope that I and my friends can help lead me down the correct path for this coming year.
The other day, someone asked me what I thought people's greatest misconception is about me. It's an interesting question and worth thinking about. So obviously, I gave it some thought.
I decided that people don't get what I'm saying often and take it the wrong way. Most commonly, people often think I'm joking when I'm serious and think I'm serious when I'm joking. When people take something I mean seriously as a joke, it's often just an annoyance for me. When it happens the other way 'round, it can cause some problems for me.
Admittedly, this is mostly my fault. I use sarcasm so often and so fluidly, most people don't know when I'm being sarcastic and when I'm not. It's something I try to do, to be less sarcastic. But it's hard because I've done it for so long. It's been a defensive mechanism for so long, I can't just flip a switch, however much I want to.
The other side of the problem is that people often don't take what I say at face value. If you know me, you know I'm a straight shooter. I come right out. I say what I mean. Now, there's a difference between saying you speak your mind and you use that as a shield to insult others, and I hope I'm on the right side of that.
But people often look for an angle or a meaning or the "truth" behind what I say... and there isn't really one. This happens with women especially. They can't seem to accept that I'm an honest person, that I actually mean what I say. I've been told they're naturally suspicious of guys because they're used to being lied to... so essentially, I get punished for doing things the right way. And it sucks because people will attach meaning I never intended on to things I say. I observe and I note... and often, that's all there is to it. But people don't believe that to be true, so it makes interactions harder with people (again, especially women. They always seem to think there's something "more").
So... honestly, I don't know what to do. I could start lying, I guess, but that's a pretty large compromise of my character. And how do I "prove" I'm honest? How do I prove I'm not angling for anything? This sort of thing gets me into trouble all the time, and I don't know how to stop it. Most often, people takes it to mean that I'm hitting on/flirting with people... I'm usually not. Maybe that's why I find a fair number of my friends falling for me. I don't know.
You know, I really would like to just forget about Carolyn. Just bury her and leave her behind. However, that seems to be just impossible, considering where I live and who I interact with. It just gets brought up. I don't like bringing it up, I don't enjoy talking about it, but it happens. And then I get thinking about it, and the whole thing makes me mad. Seriously, how does someone decide to hate you for reasons they made up in the first place? Bah!
And then... oh man. Near the end of last quarter, we went to Rio Grande for dinner. Love that place. After all, they make their own chips and salsa and you get as much of it as you want for free... you can't beat that! Plus, all the people work there are Mexican. Half of them are even legally in the country. So we had a good time there. At the end, the waiter tried to get me to do a shot of Tequila... and I didn't want to do it. I don't have a reason, I just didn't. But he was determined; he even got the entire restaurant to chant, "Drink it! Drink it!" A couple boys started doing it, but their mom immediately pulled their arms down, which was pretty funny. Needless to say, I dug my heels in. He ended up drinking the stuff himself, and I had a very red face.
When we were coming back, completely out of the freaking blue, one of my female friends goes, "You don't find me attractive, do you?" WHAT THE CRAP?!?!? Seriously, it was all I could do not to fall over the stairs. Listen, ladies, there is absolutely NO good answer to that question. Don't ever ask it. I was mortified. I don't think I even was able to form words in response. Of course, she took this to mean my answer was "no" (when really the only think I could think was, "JUMP THROUGH THE CLOSEST WINDOW!"). So she got all hurt and got that tone of voice girls get when they're hurt but pretend like they're not... oy. Plus, she has a boyfriend! So what the heck! Ugh. I'd like to just bash my head against something sharp and hard, please. It would all just be so much easier.
Speaking of women, I went to a reception for the Japanese students that are here for the quarter. I wasn't feeling especially gregarious, so I just sort of did that standing around awkwardly thing I'm really good at. However, Hiroki seemed to appreciate my appearance, and that's why I did it in the first place. I do have to say, though, that there was a handful of comely Japanese ladies. So that was nice. I almost even talked to one of them.
It's taken forever just to write this much and I have a lot of work to do, so... I'm cutting this short.
As I've discovered, I'm not too old for 12-hour Dungeons & Dragons sessions. I started running a game on Thursdays. Last week, we started at 8 p.m. and ended at 8 p.m. It was fun, to be sure, but it was also quite exhausting. And of course, it threw my sleep schedule completely out of whack. So I'm working on about four hours of sleep because that whole class thing forced me to get up at a decent hour.
I was watching SportsCenter yesterday, and they had a feature of sorts on Bob Knight, the former coach of Indiana and the current coach about Texas Tech (this isn't really about sports, I promise). The report was filed by Jeremy Schaap, one of ESPN's top "issue" reporters and the son of sports journalism icon Dick Schaap. Part of the way through the story, Jeremy mentions the interview he had with Knight after he was fired from Indiana University. It shows Knight getting surly with Schaap and refusing to shake his hand after the interview concluded. Makes Bobby K look pretty bad, right?
Well, the voiceover immediately says something along the line of the thing that stuck out to him (Schaap) the most was Knight's "personal attack" on him (Knight was getting mad for Schaap interrupting him and said, "You've got a long way to go to be like your father"). And this is the problem I have. First of all, it wasn't really an insult. But Schaap is a whiny sissy, and he frequently injects himself into the story. Schaap has developed a history of interviewees getting hostile with him. Is it asking the tough questions, or is it provocation? It's a fine line, to be sure, but I don't believe he comes down on the correct side of it.
He's also one of those people who feel the need to tell the viewers what they should think, why something is so terrible and that you should be outraged, offended, or saddened by it. And I hate that. Schaap is emblematic of the generation of journalists that make the story about themselves as much as the angle. You get their opinions on things. You see them "confronting" their interviews.
If you've seen "Shattered Glass," you know what I'm talking about (and if you haven't, do yourself a favor and watch it). There's this class of reporters out there that are trying to make themselves more important than the story. They think they're the vanguards of what they cover. The importance isn't what they cover, but the fact that they're covering it.
That is wrong.
Journalism hasn't really changed in theory. The landscape of the profession has- as much as any has in the last 10 to 15 years- but the idea has not. Report the story, present the facts. The problem is that people have come along who have twisted the game and have stuck themselves between the truth and the consumer. And in the process, that truth gets distorted. The idea is that the story speaks for itself. Now, the reporters are speaking for themselves. That ideal of objectivity (which I think is crap, but that's another rant) gets destroyed in the process.
That's why I love how the BBC does things. British journalism, sadly, is far superior to American journalism in some respects. In the US, journalism is all about the story. What's the angle? What's the hook? In England, it's about the facts. Here's what's going on, here's what a couple people said... draw your own conclusions. And you know what? It works. It's more reliable. It's more trustworthy.
This is the system we used to have. Why don't we go back to it? Our journalists shouldn't be the guardians of morality or culture. I don't care what Neil Cavuto thinks about the Anna Nicole Smith saga- or, for that matter, why she's dominating the headlines. But once again, the media's obsession with stupid celebrity stories is another rant.
Admittedly, this is a bit late, as it's been nearly two weeks since this all happened. But hey... I've been busy. First, I had to do what I'm actually writing about, and I to take finals, and I had to come back to Twinsburg and be bored for a while before I actually got around to writing this, so... yeah. So much to do.Two weeks ago, I made the trip up to Cleveland for the MAC tournament. When the Bobcats have a chance to punch a ticket to the Big Dance, I'm going to make sure I see it. The conference changed things up a bit this year. Previously, the first round was held on Monday with the games on the higher seed's floor. Starting with this year, they moved the first round games to Cleveland... and on Wednesday, with the quarters on Thursday. That's a big change. It also sucks because we lose out on one last game at The Convo.Another change was the times for the quarterfinal matchups. For the last couple years, the game between the #4 and #5 seed was the final game of the evening, at 9 p.m. But because the MAC wanted Kent and Akron playing the late games, they moved all the times around. The 4/5 game was put at the 2 p.m. time slot.This was a problem because I had class on Thursday afternoon. If it was at the normal late spot, it wouldn't have been a problem because I could have gotten there with plenty of time after my last class of the day. So what to do? Beg the professors, of course. I pitched them that I needed to be there to support the team because of "organizational commitment" as president of the O Zone. I don't think they bought that argument, but they let me off class for Thursday anyway. Hooray!So I got ready after my final Wednesday class and got in the Escape and headed for Twinsburg. I had the dulcet tones of Derek Scott playing on the radio as the Bobcats were taking on Bowling Green in the first round of the tournament. I was confident that Ohio would handle the Falcons without much problem, as they had destroyed BG in both of their previous games. I was a bit concerned, however, as BG led early on before Ohio took the lead. They nearly blew it at the end, but they pulled it out. I would have been none too happy to make the drive up to Twinsburg for what would've turned out to be no reason.
Thursday came and I was so excited, I got up at about 7 a.m. and couldn't sleep after that. Lots of energy. I met up with Ross before the game at the Winking Lizard. The turnout wasn't great, but what can you expect on a Thursday afternoon? A win against Miami would put us in the 7 p.m. Friday seminal against Toledo, and you can bet people would turn out then. But first things first, we had to dispose of Miami in the quarterfinals.
It was safe to say that I was feeling good about our chances. Miami had lost to Bowling Green (the conference's worst team) on Sunday in the season finale, and it looked like they were heading to their usual end of the season skid. Furthermore, we had knocked Miami out of the tournament three out of the last four years, including a drubbing in last year's quarterfinals. They knew it and we knew it: Ohio owned Miami in Cleveland.
Before the game, I met with some people that I knew and met a lot of new people. And a strange trend continued. All the season, people have been asking to take their picture with me. It's really weird. I guess it's the face paint and the hair, but for me of all people, it's a weird thing. I'm not used to people I know wanting to take pictures with me, let alone strangers.
A bit before tip-off, one of the promo workers came up to me and asked if I wanted to do the free throw contest at halftime. Sure, why not? I signed the form and got a pass to go down to court level. About five seconds later, I got nervous. I told Jeff McKinney, one of the moderators of Bobcat Attack, that I was nervous. He said I'd do fine. I ran into Athletic Director Kirby Hocutt and mentioned that I was doing the halftime contest. "Oh, well, we won it yesterday, so you gotta keep it going," he said. Wonderful.
When the game started, the handful of O Zoners that could make it and some displaced 110 members (apparently they brought too many) sat in the front of the Ohio section to cheer our boys on. I got to set next to Leon Williams' dad, which was a lot of fun. I met him last season at the UK game, and he's a firecracker. The exact opposite of Leon, who's a very laid back dude. It's nice to be able to sit and talk with someone who has a unique perspective on the team and the game.
Like I said, Ohio has owned Miami in recent years, and the RedHawks knew it. They came out charging. They were attacking on offense and defense, and we didn't have an answer. It looked dire almost immediately, and Miami opened up a double-digit lead fairly quickly. Uh oh. This isn't what we had in mind. The Bobs didn't look like they had the fire or the willingness to put up the energy necessary to beat Miami back. The crowd knew it, too, and that depressing feeling started to sink in. We weren't going to lose to Miami, would we?
I had to meet the promotions girl down on the court at about the four-minute mark, so I excused myself from my seat and made my way down there. The view from there didn't look much better, either. By the time the first half ended, we were down 16. More dishearteningly, the team walked past me on the way to the locker room and they looked like dead men walking. They didn't look tired or fatigued (the excuse O'Shea would later fall back on), but they looked defeated. Shoulders were slumped. Their eyes told me they were beat. Even coach Rhodes appeared as though he wanted to get on the bus back to Athens right then. Suffice to say I wasn't encouraged for the second half.
My friend Brandon was talking to me before the contest started. Apparently he was the one that did the contest yesterday and won. He said something about not air balling and embarrassing yourself. I wasn't really listening. I was too busy worrying about my palms sweating and the fact I hadn't eaten since about 9 a.m. and it was about 3:30 p.m. and I felt like I was going to pass out because of hunger. So I really did a poor job of preparing myself for the contest.
Now, I have to say that I don't do a whole lot well in basketball. I'm short, I'm skinny, I don't shoot well from the outside, and my dribbling doesn't impress anyone. But I do shoot free throws well. In all honesty, I think I can beat a sizeable number of NBA players in a free throw competition. How people getting paid millions of dollars to shoot 60% from the line is beyond me. But I had never done it in front of a crowd before, and I never had a time limit before.
I'm hoping that explains why I completely missed the rim by about a foot on the first shot. I mean, I shot it fine, but my legs gave me absolutely nothing on the shot. My wince was probably priceless. There's nothing like the sound of a couple thousand people groaning because of you, by the way. Fantastic feeling. I think that initial air ball jump started me, though, because I found a groove after that. I had hit something like 6 of 7- I wasn't paying complete attention to whether they were going in or not- when the PA guy said there was 10 seconds left. That completely wrecked my concentration, and I didn't make another one after that. The nice thing was I had already made enough to beat the Miami student, who apparently wasn't sure was a basketball was. I won a $50 gift card to Aeropostale, which is a store I've never set foot in in my life. I have no idea what I'm going to do with the thing. Anyone want it?
The second half was more of the same, really. Miami outhustling us on both ends of the floor, the Bobcats looking like they'd rather eat a cactus than try and mount a comeback, and Leon's dad complaining about the lack of three-point shooting. Like I said, it's good to talk to a guy with his perspective on things. I asked him about O'Shea. He just shook his head and reaffirmed the notion that nobody likes him as a coach or thinks he's fit to do the job. He also said- repeatedly- that Leon needs the ball more. I agreed and asked him if Leon would ever say anything. "No," he responded. "That's not what he does."
So Ohio's season ended with a 19-point beating at the hands of their main rival. Awesome. On the brighter side, I got to talk for a bit with Kyle Whelliston, he of the midmajority.com and ESPN mid-major wunderkind. I always enjoy talking to him when I get the chance. He commented on my face paint and we talked shop for a bit. He said the offense looked like "a mess" on the court and asked what the fans thought of the job O'Shea was doing. We also conversed about the tournament and the MAC in general for a while, which was fun.
Brandon offered me his extra ticket for the night session, featuring Akron/CMU and Kent/WMU. Why not? Interestingly, we were seating very close to the AK-Rowdies, the Akron student cheering section. And man oh man are they lame! Seriously, this was like a convention of dorks assembled to watch a basketball game. It was baaaad. The cheers, the taunts... it was almost comical. I'm not even going to get into it in detail.
We moved to the other side to sit with the WMU fans for the second game, which was much closer than the blowout Akron subjected the Chippewas to. A number of the Bronco fans were quite drunk and yelling about an "Ohio conspiracy" with the referees. I resisted the urge to tell them these were the same refs the conference had used all year, and most of them weren't from Ohio. But whatever.
Somehow, we ended up hanging out with the players and families after the game. And I have to say, they seemd a lot more upset about losing than the Ohio players did... and they didn't even lose to their rival. So I have to wonder, has their fire been taken away? I think it has. Another indictment of O'Shea.
Both Whelliston and Brandon were trying to coax me into going to the semis the next night, but I didn't want to pay the money for tickets. As Ohio had been knocked out of the tournament, I no longer got the student discount on tickets. Whelliston parted with a "I'll see you tomorrow." I groaned. Well, he didn't. My dad bought a XBox 360 the next day, so I stayed home and watched Kent collapse in the second half against Akron and his subsequent foul mood. Unfortunately, Akron and Miami played for the championship, which made me feel like I was being cosmically punished for something. When Penno hit the buzzer beater, I fell to the fround screaming, "Nooooo!" Feel free to laugh.
It was cold in Cleveland (surprise!), but when I got to Athens, it was nice and warm. Apparently it had been the whole time since I left. Sigh.
...until the month of Madness. Are you excited? I'm excited.
(And yes, I know, I haven't posted in forever. But I will soon. Really. I'm just working on very little sleep right now and I ramble on incoherently enough as it is.)
I give up. I've thrown the towel in. I'm done. Apparently I wasn't completely off the mark earlier, as Jessica told me she's getting back together with her ex. Awesome. So really, I've learned that doing things the "right way" is just a quick path to pain and misery. Don't treat women with respect. Don't compliment them. Don't do things for them and let them know what they mean to you. Instead, you should cheat on them, abuse them, lie to them, mess with them... these are the things that women apparently like. The good guys sit on the sidelines while the losers get chance after chance after chance.
So I'm done. I can't take this anymore. I've taken my hat out of the ring. I don't even want to talk to women right now. If you see me considering dating a girl, punch me in the nose. The same crap happens every single time, so I'm not even going to try anymore.
On a related note, I was having a conversation with Nate and Carolyn the other night. I somehow got to talking about my sister and mentioned she was dating some guy at Kent. I said it was one of those things where you go to school, meet some idiot guy, and date him for a while. After I said that, I looked at Carolyn and realized that was exactly the same thing with us! I am an idiot! How did I not see this before? It never meant as much to her as it did to me. It astounds me how much of a moron I am sometimes. Really, I should get an award for it.
As much fun as perpetual whining about women is, there are other things going on in my life. For instance, I'm on the verge of murdering my roommate. I don't know what the deal is with this kid. For the weekend, he wasn't getting up until about 6 PM! 6 PM! Who does that? So of course he's going to bed at insane hours; today he got up at 6, went to bed at 4, then woke up again at about midnight. There's no rhyme or reason to any of it. It drives me nuts. Of course, I guess when all you do is sit at the computer like a waste of humanity, you don't need a regular sleep schedule. And I thought I was unusual.
The Australian Open has started, and it's awesome. Live tennis at three in the morning is a thing I am very much in favor of. James Blake looked good in his first match against Moya; we'll see if he can make a significant run in Melbourne.
I love the Taco Bell commercials with Carmen Electra. I guess now that she's not with Dave Navarro anymore, she's more willing to debase herself again for money. Good for her.
I finally took advantage of the Little Caesar's $5 pizza deal. I'm going to have to do that more often. It's particularly fantastic. I mean, why didn't I do this before? Walk in, hand them a Jefferson, walk out with a pizza. Genius! Everyone should do this. It's amazing.
I don't know if I mentioned this, but I love the rock garden fountain Tim and Fi got me for Christmas. It's great. Sometimes, I'll just stare at it for several minutes. It's a great de-stressor.
In case you didn't read "The Christian Paradox" that I linked to in my last entry, I'm going to do it again and urge you to read it. This article spoke to me about a few things that had been in my head. This is a country that claims to be Christian, but it just doesn't follow through on its words. Religion- Jesus- is not words. It's life. I can say I'm left-handed, but it doesn't make me so. Too many seem to regard this faith as a moral code. It's not. And honestly, I'm sort of tired of this country. I want to see what else is out there. Europe may be more "explicit," but it is probably more honest, too. That's the thing here in the US. We're hypocrites. We do stuff we claim not to do. I'm not saying we should do whatever, but at least we ought to stop lying about it. It might be easier to raise children in a culture of honesty than one of deceit. You know, I don't think I'm going to refer to myself as a Christian anymore. I don't think the word accurately describes the path I have set out on anymore. Thoughts?
So I think Nate is getting tired of me destroying him in Smash Bros. I don't even remember the last time he's won a game. Speaking of games, I've been playing Betrayal at the House on the Hill, which is a lot of fun. Basically, it's a board game in which 3-6 players are exploring the neighborhood haunted house. The twist is that one of the party is a traitor. At some point the game, the traitor is revealed along with his plan. The traitor tries to accomplish whatever goals s/he has and the heroes try to stop him. You don't know who the traitor is or what the scenario is in advance; it's all random. Good fun for a group, and just about anyone can enjoy it.
Basketball plays Kent Sunday at 2. As it turns out, Kent chose their home MAC opener for their "let's try and sell out the gym" promotion, so it looks like the Bobcats are going to be playing in front of a full house on the road. Ohio hasn't played well at the M.A.C. Center recently, so I'm not too optimistic on this one.
On a vaguely related note, I owe a friend of mine a high-five and jealousy because he achieved the Impossible Dream, dating a volleyball player. I'm pretty sure his life is more awesome than mine now.
At the moment, I'm listening to "Story of a Girl" by Nine Days and it makes me feel good and sad at the same time. I'm weird.
Met Emma's boyfriend, Noah, today. Nice guy. We seem to have a lot in common, so we've gotten along pretty well. They seem pretty good for each other. Hope they are; she deserves a break to go her way.
A quick thought about relationship-esque things: I'm pretty sure TV and movies are to blame for this, but I realized at some point in the recent past that I'm terrified to do anything physical with women. I'm completely convinced that they don't to be touched, don't like to be kissed, don't want to have sex... none of that. Yes, it's insane, but whenever I'm trying to touch, kiss, whatever, I'm always thinking she doesn't want to, that only guys like this and girls just want to... talk or something. On a related note, I always like it 500% more when a girl is the one to initiate a hand holding or whatever. I'm pretty sure Shasta likes it when I pet her, though. So I do it a lot.
Anyone who's known me a while knows that for whatever reason, my roommates typically don't stick around for a while. Well, I have one that doesn't look like he's leaving anytime soon... and I can't stand him. He's a slob, he's dirty, and he doesn't do anything. The other day, he was smelling the room up so bad that I had to leave. And this is even with an Air Wick and employing Febreeze. He doesn't put his dirty clothes in a hamper or bag or anything; instead, he throws it all into one giant pile. Mind you, he has a clothing bag or two, but they've been incorporated into the giant pile. He moves it from his bed to his chair depending on which he's using. He's been sleeping in until about 6 p.m. He doesn't go anywhere, doesn't talk to anyone, just sits at his computer and does... whatever all day. Seriously. He doesn't move. Nobody other than his twin brother has ever come to visit him. I mean, is he even alive? Oy.
But hey, it's not all doom and gloom. The Australian Open starts on Sunday! And here is a very cool game that I discovered at random a little bit ago; it got Cheryl Sadler completely hooked.
Food for thought: Is Christianity in America a lie? Honestly, I think it is. A former professor once put forth the theory that there are two Christianities, a religious Christianity and a social Christianity. The people that belong to the latter don't really know or really care about the tenants and lifestyle of the faith, but use it as a rallying point for whatever it is they want to accomplish (see: gay marriage). The Religious Right is a pretty good example of this. Is their mission religious or political? It's hard to argue in earnest that it's God directing them when a lot of what they do flies in the face of the teachings of Jesus.
And I can't remember if I mentioned this, but some jerk has been stealing markers or breaking the tips off them from my whiteboard. Honestly, who does that? Why? It's not funny. I don't get people. If you have a problem with me, just come to me. I'd like to think I'm reasonable.
I feel really emo sometimes. I can't help it. It's just like... everything goes out of its way just to kick me. I don't get it. I really don't.
OK, some happy stuff first: The basketball team smacked around Bowling Green tonight, 69-47. BG was never close, and the defense played quite well. The 'Cats are now 2-0 in the MAC and 11-4 overall with a date with Kent on Sunday. A win there and the sky is the limit. I said before this is the best team in my five years at OU, and I haven't seen anything to change that. Also, the first Dervish of the quarter is up.
Some introspective stuff: I still feel trepidation/am a little afraid around Carolyn. A little bit with Kat, too, but that's different. With Carolyn, it's like I fear that I'm going to start liking her again, or that I never really stopped liking her in the first place... and that's only going to cause the both of us pain. I'm so paranoid. I mean, I don't feel like I like her anymore. It's just... weird, seeing her, being around her, remembering how we were at each other's throats last quarter. And that's just supposed to be forgotten? Well, probably, but it's not how I'm used to going about things. I'm not sure where she fits in, or where she's supposed to fit in. And I guess with Kat, it's just like our relationship. I'm waiting for something bad to happen. It just doesn't feel right. The other shoe should be dropping (remember the paranoia?) for some reason, even though there's absolutely no reason to expect it to. And that's my problem, really. I'm always convinced I'm going to get hurt or I'm going to hurt someone else.
Bad stuff: Speaking of, I hadn't mentioned Jessica in... um... some time. I had sent her a little thing for Christmas with a card, a bookmark with her name and a Bible verse, and a poem I wrote her. I hadn't heard from her in a couple weeks, so I was getting afraid that either she didn't get it or that she did and did not like it. Well, I finally got a hold of her a couple days ago. She said that she did get it, and that it was totally sweet and that she loved it. Awesome. I message her tonight and she tells me she's having an "intense" conversation with her former boyfriend... the one that cheated on her. So, based on recent events and my own protective nature, I naturally jump into defense mode. And boy did that conversation not go well. She said it was weird because it had been so long but he's the only guy she's ever truly loved, and they've been hanging out now that she's in North Carolina, and he's planning on enrolling at BYU-Idaho in the future, and he might be angling for something... during the course of the conversation she said I was making her feel dumb and that I was jumping all over her (which really just made me feel terrible, let me tell you). Ugh. That could not have gone much worse.
I mean... if when everything is said and done she gets back with this guy, that's pretty much the worst case scenario. I would be completely devastated by that. A guy throws away the one thing I never and he gets it again? I couldn't take that. Am I getting ahead of myself, jumping to conclusions? Absolutely. Is this the sort of thing that happens to me? It totally is. (Remember the paranoia?)
In other words, I hate women. I think I should just move out to California with Mr. Chesnut and start over or something.
But I should think positively, right? I mean, after all, this whole thing just means that the door is open for someone else.
Three day weekend coming up. That'll be nice. Maybe we'll head up to Kent for the game Sunday. I don't know. I do know I have a lot of work to do. I want to work on my AmeriCorps apps too. It's only the second week of the quarter and Kat already looks quite tired. The girl does too much; she only gets three hours or so of sleep a night. Why work like that? I said she should drink a lot of Red Bull. She said she doesn't want the crash and will fuel herself with "personal motivation." Right. I think the body will just refuse at one point.
You know, every year we get the political cartoons and platitudes of leaving the bad of the previous year behind. It was most prevalent in 2000 as we bid "goodbye" to Hitler, McVeigh, etc. We act as though because we have to buy a new calendar, it's somehow a fresh start, a clean slate. I don't get this. Nothing changes on January 1st but a number. We never leave anything behind, we don't start anew. And if we did, we never do anything with it. Look at 2001. Look at 2006. We do the same terrible, stupid, destructive things that we always have. I'm not saying a new year isn't worth celebrating, but let's not delude ourselves. The same crap happens every year.
So we started with the new quarter this week. Like I said earlier, I think I have a pretty solid slate of classes. So when I started the quarter out, I was feeling pretty good. I get to Bentley for my first class at 11, walk into the classroom, and who do I see? Kat. Freaking Kat. I just wanted to laugh. I mean... come on. Why? See, I'm God's hackey sack. He loves to mess with me.
The part that I found even weirder- and even frightened me a little- is that we actually talked for about 10 minutes after the class and it wasn't even awkward at all. I mean... shouldn't it be awkward? The last time I saw her, she was dumping me. There should be something a little weird about talking in that circumstance.
And as a quick aside, Carolyn and I have actually been able to talk to each other without any problem, which has helped to give me some closure I didn't know I needed. The whole thing still hurts, though. I don't heal quickly.
As someone pointed out to me, I'm a full-throttle guy. I don't hold back. I'm all the way. And because of that, I get the highest highs and the lowest lows. That's pretty much true. She recommended that I try to temper myself a bit... I just don't see how I can do that, though. I mean, it's not... not me. I don't know. I have closed my heart off again, though... I just can't take another blow again. I just can't. I know it makes Melissa mad, but it's a survival thing.
OK, something a bit happier. The basketball team opened the MAC season off last night against Akron, the preseason favorite in the conference. And let me tell you, that game was hot. The O Zone was completely packed; kids were standing in the aisles and it spilled over into the section above us. The rest of the crowd looked pretty full (the official attendance was about 5,300, but it looked more like 7k). Our props of spinwheels and giant foam bricks came in, and it was really cool to see them in action. Most of all, we were loud and active. Especially after a couple monster alley-oops by Jerome Tillman, the O Zone was as loud as I've ever heard it. The whole thing was great. I hope we keep that up all year.
And lastly, I need to say I just found out that someone very important to me was hit by her ex-boyfriend while they were dating (left a bruise one time). It made me furious, to the point that if he were nearby, I would've grabbed some sort of weapon and went to town on him. You just DO NOT DO THAT. EVER. And it bothers me just as much that she didn't feel like she could tell me or anyone else out of concern for him. It's all so wrong on so many levels. And another friend of mine is being stalked by an ex-boyfriend, which brought her to tears the other night. I don't get it. I really don't. How can guys treat women with such disrespect? What did they do to deserve it?
There's so much I cannot understand.
Separated by Time, Not by Conviction
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