Shummer Shenanigans and more

7/2014 (was going to write way back then...)
There's a title. Just thought of it as i started writing because i thought i'd write about the Summer. This summer. But i don't want this to stretch into oblivion so i decided to open with this and just...even.

That went far. Let's try again. So this Summer is technically my last "Summer" of sorts because i'm not going into a field that is going to allow a "break" from my job. My occupation is still "student," so i have some sort of obligation to go to classes in the fall and spring. Enough of the common knowledge..i guess i just went there because i want to get into my feels of where i am in life. (And of course some worthless stream of conscious writing that leaves me feeling more confused and maybe you, just mad..in more than one way.) What's on my mind? The Future, naturally. Something that's completely out of my control and unchangeable. But boy, i feel like i should be concerning myself with it because it only makes sense..or none. Maybe if you're a worrier like me, this might be making some sense, maybe. A little.


TODAY:
Well, I've had interesting struggles with this blog here for a while now and boy, they were all unnecessary. Here's the positive: It's all back up. Haveyouheardofthem.com is ready to go, and I am here back on this silly blog to give somewhat of a life update to the masses.

I love work, Boosterthon is the best company. I've been living in Charlotte, and quite interested in what the future holds. In July 2014, I was facing interesting stuff. I think I had figured out by then that I could graduate college early. And the internships I was working would qualify for classwork. Quite blessed and excited, I was working hours for the college store as well as hours for the chaplain of the school on the school's Black Lake retreat property

It was a sweaty summer and one where I was more unsure of my future. I did work a little extra hard that semester for no reason, but I thought I had worked the semester with some extra credits but as it turned out I hadn't and should have just taken an L like my family had told me. Pretty ridiculous. As I worked as a student, that semester I felt like I needed to start working there. Catawba had done everything for me (I thought) and it was the best course of action working for them. However, I had no idea what God was up to and that their was an even harder better option coming up. The day I was leaving Catawba (graduating early in December), I was called in by a boss and asked if I wanted a temporary job there after Christmas break.
I took it, went to Passion 2015, and then started working for Catawba.

It was during the Phonathon of Spring 2015, that I was helping with, when I got a call from the Census Bureau. I had kept my name in the system, and sure enough a job had opened up for that summer. "Perfect," I thought! The trouble was, I had to make a decision if I was going to leave Salisbury and maybe the opportunity of securing a full-time job with Catawba (ideally a Guidance Counselor position, I thought).

After much thought, I thought it best to do it because Catawba hadn't promised me anything at the moment and Census looked promising. So I took the job and moved back in with my parents.

In June, friends from Catawba said "Just move back here and live with us, get a job here until Catawba offers you something." One of the main reasons I had said no was because my mom had told me about something called the Fellows Program that would buy me an extra 9-months and I still wasn't feeling sure about my future. It was July when Catawba offered me a real job. The very next day after I had pretty much decided to do the Fellows. So wild.

Granny died that summer. I went to a friend's wedding in WA, it was a crazy summer.

Anyway, I went to Davidson/Chrarlotte NC to be a Fellow. It was an incredibly hard year. And it hurt so good. I learned some terrible stuff about myself including: I give too many details, terrible at Listening, and can't wait for someone to finish talking so I can hopefully make them laugh or say what I want.

Constantly interrupting is dangerous and I did it all the time. I still do it, yet I'm so much better than I was. All the pain I endured, only made me so much stronger and being humbled by the Lord was so necessary. It was tough, yet so important to my growth.

In March 2016, I found out more about Boosterthon and was sold. I interviewed in April, sort of fell through the cracks over the summer, and got the job in late August part-time. Also started part-time with LiveNation and then went full-time with Boosterthon in January 2017.

Really hard first year, yet so worth it. All of it. When something is worth it, it could easily mean the best time of your life..or at least a memory that will never be forgotten. No matter the pain.

Short Not Sweet and "A Meal Without Food"

Well, it's that durn season again... i Love it and long for it every year, and each year it's the same. Well not the same, exactly.. But it's the same in some aspects. Different each year by the amount of understanding i have of how God sent this kid to save us all, and then how He's going to come back. It's all pretty awesome, and i always gain just a bit more understanding from it each year. But, it is too vast for me to grasp completely. Too unbelievable. Too awesome. And i am more thankful than last year.

But how about it? This Winter Break (i'll be graduated this time next year, not a huge deal), i decided to take a "J-Term" course. It's a fiction writing course and i'm hoping it cycles into writing nonfiction a little bit because that's what i've got to do for my career. Hah. i Wanted to share a small exercise i just finished for class on here. It's pretty random, but it was entertaining to write. i Was told to write a dialogue between two people without any explanations, quotations, or setting descriptions. Purely a conversation. Here's an attempt at it, and let it be known my teacher hasn't graded this yet. So, you can wait with me to see if i failed and "misunderstood the assignment." Who knows? Commas may not have been allowed! i Got a kick out of the assignment. Probably because it felt funny to always struggle with always saying "he said/she said," junk, and then not being allowed to use any of that!  Note: Basically each new line is a new person speaking, but on here the format got all messed up. So the main note: each ellipses is the same person speaking. It just indicates a more than brief pause.

"A Meal Without Food"

How many is in your party?

Just me.

Right this way, sir.

Thanks.

…

You know you hostesses can sure look nice.

Yes, we do clean up nicely huh.

…

Is this table all right?

Oh, I didn’t think I had a choice in a place like this.

Only the best for someone with such class.

…

Can I get you anything Mr.-?

Mr. Grant, but please call me Jack.

...

But more importantly, what's your name?

Well, it's Diana and thank you for taking an interest in me sir, but I must be going back to--

Diana. That's a lovely name. It fits for someone with such elegance.

Well thank you sir, but really I must be going-- 

What on earth for, Diana?

Excuse me, I would say if you hadn't interrupted.

Sorry. Please continue and excuse my childish and plain rude behavior.

You're excused. You see, I normally would say I should head back to the front, but looking at the time now it's time for me to clock out or my boss will get angry. It has been a long day for me and I'm exhausted. I'm sorry for taking so much of your time sir, let me go get a serv--

You poor soul. No more "sir's" please, and this may be too forward but could I invite you and your husband to lunch?

You could, but the male companion would be lacking and my lunch time was an hour ago. Have a good day Jack.

Please, please don't leave. I haven't heard a woman as pretty as you say my name that sweetly since my wife--

...

For another time. Ms. Diana, it would be an honor if you came to a meal with me, even if the food wasn't present. 

Why would it be a meal then?

To pretend we were conversing over food, without the food. It doesn't make much sense, so we shouldn't think too hard about it.

I must say you are a different man than I've ever encountered, quite different in fact than my late--

No, don't say it. Stop where you are. This conversation is hurting enough. If my chances are decreasing by the second of you sitting down with me, after clocking out, I'm going to leave before you do.

No, no. Jack. Jack, stay right here. I'll be back before you know it! In fact, I might sit with you so long, you'll get tired of me.

I wholeheartedly, doubt it.

-fin.

i Don't Know WHat "Conform" Means.

First a quick little note about what this post will be: Vociferation. To its fullest. 

Here’s why: the verb “to conform” does not really have a place in my small vocabulary..or whatever you want to call the knowledge of about 38 words in the English language. In fact, i have a vague understanding of it and barely comprehend why it’s important. This post is not going to be about how i think, “You should be yourself because you’re extraordinary and will accomplish much in life if you just believe in yourself.” Heaven forbid. Nothing of the sort. And it will certainly not be about how “i’m me because i’m amazing/awesome/best person i know/etc..” But, i say all that to say the world wants me to conform/accept two phenomena i am...not in the least bit in agreement with, or wish to attempt at embracing.

The first is quite simple and elementary, if you will.. Touchpads. Touchpads!!? i Recently walked into an AT&T store and after smiling back at the greeter, who had asked how she could help, asked if she knew of a newer phone that was a SmartPhone, without a touchpad. The look that she gave me next was one that exclaimed, “WAIT...you want me to conquer the world, in the dead of winter, with YOU?!!” Needless to say, she told me i better look online because she has no idea.. Listen, i guess i’m just too old fashioned, but i love the satisfaction i get from “mashin’ the buttons” and stuff happening. i Like that, confirmation, i guess is the word. i Feel as though i’m not asking for much, but...in today's world, regrettably..it looks as though i’ve got to switch to a horrid, dreadful touchpad. i Know what’s available, don’t misunderstand me. All the vibrations and “confirming alerts” that you can turn on in settings so that you know when you have typed something, but alas..i just don’t want. i Can’t even.

Enough of that. Anyway, the next is much more serious and deals with an issue i just, can’t fathom. If you have an explanation for me, i would love to hear/read it. Please. i’m not going to look down or judge, but i want you to at least try to see it from my point of view and then if you disagree, by all means, fire away. My skin is probably thicker than yours. Oops! Did not mean to try to one-up, or sound high above you in any way, i just meant..go for it. Tear away at my reasoning so i can at least, make a valiant TRY to see with your eyes.

Soul mate. The One. Does that exist today? The [maddening] idea came to me to voice my insignificant opinion as an accumulation of stories and others’ thoughts were shared. Namely, this little intelligent video and this enlightening blog post came to my attention when some of my friends shared this around. If you just watched/read either of them, you might agree that they kinda’ parallel each other.. If you disagree with me there, that’s fine. i Think i disagree with myself? But, the point is...i’m pretty sure these two young knowledgeable people are saying, “Nope. There isn’t a ‘thing,’ as The One.” 

So, why am i discouraged? Even after their apparent viable information including God and what He wants of us in this life? Because....it tears me apart. Shredding me to pieces. i’m a hopeless romantic who still Believes. Maybe it’s the Old Fashioned in me that’s acting out of control again, but to be honest, i don’t care. i Could care less about what people think about how i should grow up and live in today’s world. “You’re the one who can’t grasp what i see, like, and enjoy so much!” i say. It’s why i like old romantic comedies from the ’30’s, ‘40’s, and ‘50’s. Hardly anyone from my generation will understand that, that innocence that is so present. 

i Believe in one small, little, tiny, meager,...No, just kidding. It’s a major part of me that has this Belief that: God is GOD. Here’s where it gets tricky depending on who you are: that Belief is, and can be so strong for some, that it is a Statement of Fact. It’s..a lifestyle. i Can’t bring myself to think or spend a second debating on whether to go along with what a lot of people are saying today about this subject. Dare i say they’re completely missing the biggest point of all? 

God. 

Anything is possible when He’s in it, right? Anything.. Right? Am i wrong? Okay i’ll stop. But..seriously!! Anything. Really. 

So, if i always pray, “If it is Your [good and perfect] Will..” What’s the worst that can happen? Honestly. (If you’re lost as to my connection...let me try to make it simple. Primarily, i have Faith. Faith in God because that is what's needed in the first place. In addition, i Believe that when i ask, God will provide The One for me if it is His will for me to marry. Because, He can do Anything.) 

A Spontaneous Adventure

My feelinG of July 3-4, 2013 

Here it is folks. An account of a story not for the feint of heart. In the least. i'm just glad i can still function normally, for the most part. You see, i'm wild in some aspects and enjoy being spontaneous. Hence the title and this blog post which might stretch into infinity with the mindless details...but friends, it was just such a stinking Adventure of sorts, i would feel like i was cheating you of important, life changing, earth moving exclamations and discoveries of life itself! Well..let's be honest: i doubt you're looking for any of that here on this blog. Whew, let's hope you're not anyway!

i Better start by saying i've had this idea ever since i wanted a sleeping bag for Christmas in 2010..? My parents live near the beach so i've always had this fantasy of camping out under the stars. On the beach with just a sleeping bag. Listening to the waves crash and so on. But, there was a significant problem: the closest beach that allowed camping was a good hour and half drive away. i Never got around to doing it except a year ago when i got a tent for Christmas and tore out to Freeman Park with my dad. We had some problems: not being tired at going to sleep at about 8:30, choosing a night with a full moon to name just a few. The next day when we came back, there was so much sand in the tent it was a complete mess.

So on July 2nd, i didn't wake up and say, "i'm going to spend tomorrow night on the beach by myself. No doubt." It was about 2100hrs. on the 2nd that i tentatively made plans to follow through my "solid" plan the next day. The only troubles were having to go to the doctor's and picking up my mom at the airport...close to an hour away.  No problem, i thought. If only i knew my ProblemS had only just begun.

The mom had to pick up some vegetables on the way back so that took some extra time, when i got home i figured i could gather everything i needed quickly. i Had no qualms about this and thought it'd be simple enough. i Knew i needed some sort of sustenance for dinner that night and for breakfast the next day and possibly lunch..or just some extra cold hard cash. i Threw some cold cuts, chips, and cherry tomatoes in a plastic bag. i Closed it tightly with barely any air in the bag. i Thought. My dad was telling me i need to sleep on something other than the sleeping bag because the sand gets so dang damp at night. He suggested a trash bag and i thoroughly enjoyed that idea sense our tarp could have been wrapped around are roof with its size.. i Snagged a water bottle that keeps your liquid cold even when left in the sun and filled it with ice, water, and some Bolthouse Farms smoothie. i Kept thinking of one more item to pack and struggled with how to carry my sleeping bag as well as wear a backpack and try to keep some earphones in my head. A lot goin' on. i Would get it all situated and then remember something drastic (e.g. Gatorade/sunscreen) and have to remove every little package to pack it in. It got pretty tiring but finally at about 5:25ish i was peeling out of my driveway with my bike and dorky helmet..(do people still use that word? "Dorky?")

The one good part about leaving that late in the afternoon was that...i knew that the last ferry was to leave at 6. i Was about 7 miles away. With traffic and wind blowing at me almost the entire time. That was the "good" part, that i knew when the ferry was leaving..and i had to BOOK it. No matter the odds. Everything seemed to be okay until i decided to stop for my first water break after going about 2 miles. The struggle was that the bottle was in a side pocket and i have to take off everything but my clothes to put it back in (why didn't i just use a Camel-Back?!). i Kept struggling on the side of the road while cars whizzed by and i decided to check the time. i Was running out of it quick. Then, while my "Summer 2013" playlist jammed away, i started praying that i'd make it.

While i lit out for this ferry still a good ways away, it was mostly uneventful except when i started across a bridge at the wrong section and almost blew out my tires..at least it felt that way. But, as i neared the ferry i noticed car after car driving by.. Most likely they were all coming from the ferry that had arrived. i Wasn't close enough yet to see it and i started trying to fly. i Felt like any minute the boat would leave and i would be left trying to call a parent to pick me up..which of course would have been mortifying. When i got closer, i saw that most of the gate was closed and a red stop sign was over it. i Pedaled faster to see if i could slip behind the gate and still make it on the boat. Someway, (ahah, with God on my side) i sped up to the gate and there was a guy there saying, "Come on, they'll let you on! i'm only stopping the cars." Such a nice old man. So there was a lady who told me quite assuredly that i won't get a ticket but i can pay my fee of $2 and she'll let me on fine. As it turned out, i was almost the last of the last as there were some other bikers (some of whom i weren't sure why the were biking..of if the bike could handle....you know.) and a car that must have managed to talk its way onto the ship. It didn't make sense.

We arrived fine except that on this particular ferry people like to throw food for seagulls and so whether the boat has passengers that are doing this or not, a Flock often follow the boat all day. This is annoying because you know what seagulls can do on top of people as they hover and wait for food. Dreadful, distasteful wretches. But yes, i arrived fine with no "mistakes" to clean up and i took off down the road to the far end of the beaches-- the one i was headed to was North Carolina which was at least 7 or 8 miles. i Wasn't worried because i had made the ferry-- the hardest part, for now..

As i got closer to the town, more and more "marvelous traffic" hurtled around me. i Stopped at a gas station in the shade for a water break and refill my water bottle. That meant once again taking off everything but my shorts and shoes and gulping down my refreshing liquids. i Looked over to the nearby parking lot and there was an.. Interesting individual sitting, more like moping, on a moped. Definitely moping on his moped. He looked like his favorite activities included NOT attempting to brighten anybody's day and Heaven forbid looking "presentable." A worker from this filling station went up to him to try and make conversation as the employee must have been on a break, and...i'm afraid he failed. He asked what type of moped it was and the bony, stringy, greasy and certainly grimy man gave him a faraway, unconcerned look that must have not only confused me (who was just dropping eaves innocently and curiously), but maybe completely losing the poor guy that asked. In other words, even though the employee repeated his question, i'm pretty sure the thoughts in his head were saying, "Why am i asking this? What am i asking again? What's the question? i Think i'll give up now."

i Kept going on my way with only three or four near collisions with clueless tourists who were trying to find the next tourist trap for them to get lost in. It was only about 1940hrs. when i finally made it to the beach, but i had to immediately start walking my bike as the sand was so thick. i Didn't slog too long however before i found an "Emergency Vehicles Only"sign and followed that path closer to the water where i could hop back on and pedal down the beach to find a place to "set up camp." (Not much to set up without a tent, ahah..) i Noticed immediately there were already a good many people with their campers and tents set out and ready to party it up the next day...i thought. At one point there was an "adorable couple" having a picture taken and so i attempted my politeness and tried to go around them but misjudged when a wave was coming in and road through some water ankle deep. Naturally this threw ocean water everywhere drenching my shoes. So i carried on down the beach before i realized, there were just more and more people as i went further down. My saving grace was that there wasn't much activity set up on the other side of the "road" (where people drive in between sand dunes and the water). Let me draw a quick picture for you: sand dunes, maybe 50 or 40 yards of sand, tents, then water soon after that at high tide.  i Looked towards the dunes and there wasn't much except one tent...i thought.

Carefully trying to spread out my cut trash bag and towel took a little daylight time with the constant breeze ruffling and scrunching up my flimsy bag. But it worked at last and i settled into my zip-lock bag of goodies..until i realized that the chips had gotten all kinds of moisture in them and all the lettuce had wilted. Nevertheless, i was thankful for something to gnaw. As it got darker, i continued to notice how cars, trucks, (a little old punch bug with an unbearable motor) and the like traveled back forth in front of me on the "highway," as i began to call it. i Cracked open a few pages of the Good Book and played a few notes on the harmonica before i decided to pull out my sleeping bag and situate that. It worked, but with the bottom of it sticking in the sand being longer than my trash bag and towel. Of course my shoes and socks were already off and sandy so i knew i was going to have a Sandy Sleeping Bag by the time it was all over with. i Wasn't too worried about it until i realized that to get into the "helpful" "protective bag" i would have to slide my feet in scraping sand off my feet and coating the inside of the bag. Perfect,..if i wanted to catch some shuteye with a thin layer of clingy, moist (hate that word) sand all over me. The fun was beginning to start, can you tell?

At about 8:30 or 9, fireworks started up. A massive, long show was happening and i had pretty good seats! i Was so far away that i didn't hear the "crackle effect" ones but heard the boom pretty well...delayed, but still heard it. Then i ripped my attention to some similar closer noises about 300 or 500 feet away as people were doing the same activity! It was quite a little spectacle being in between all the action. It was a little unnerving knowing that these distinguished beach goers were drinking beer and were jovial in lighting fireworks. Genius. i've always thought alcohol and any type of explosive were a great combo and these people must have thought so too! Funny how that works out...(if it works out at all..*cough*)

While fireworks blasted all around me, the night sky was perfect. i Could watch some shooting stars as well as a show with all the loud entertainment. (This was a big plus to the evening so i thought i should set this apart...ahah.)

While bombs bursting in air continued with a jolly raucous, there was quite the rowdy behavior going on elsewhere. The vehicles. They never ceased!! It was unbelievable. Truck after truck after Trailblazer after SUV after truck after SUV after truck....after Trailblazer...aft-..you see my point. It was unreal. The amount of wheels running back and fo' and back and fo'! Of course, when the major firework show ended there were a number of cars coming back at the same time and i figured that out after marveling some more about it.. But... Then it started all over again! They just started Runnin' that highway, i mean beach strand.

At about 10:30 there was a group of maybe 2 guys come walking over with this cooler (was really scratching my head at what was in the cooler.....not.) and at first plunked down only about 30 feet away from me, not seeing me in the dark. One of them sounding very intelligent and far from Southern said, "This is us bro!" Then 3 obnoxiously loud girls walked over with more stuff and a flashlight and must have caught sight of me with it for one said, "Is ther' som'body sleepin' over ther'?" in quite the accent that fits so well....in the south. One of the possibly more bright ones got the rest of them to move a little further away so that worked, until a little later..

It only got worse when some silly boys and girls decided they were going to start pretending they were at Myrtle Beach. If you've never been to the Strip in Summer time, i..guess, it's worth it? Anyway, what happens on the Strip is that, starting at about midnight, people will drive up and down with their windows down and yelling or wooing out their windows. Blaring music and tearing back and forth. Sounds like a blast right? Big redneck trucks whistling at girls and comment-i mean yelling about their looks and just being so professional and gentlemanly. Well, that is what happened. Exactly. To the letter. One truck in particular kept driving by this tent that had the 3 clamorous girls (who smoked so attractively.......) and that went over real well with them of course. They only egged them on, flirting at the top of their lungs. One guy said something so classy to one of the girls, i thought he should have not completed his turn and instead, completed something much more helpful like driving into the ocean!

So you see, there was traffic all night long and plenty of "woo girls" to replace all the real ones in New York City bars. Two times. Of course the drunk fireworks were just an added bonus and it was a..mess. Naturally. Drunk fireworks are the best kind, naturally. As it turned out, people were coming a day early to "whoop it up" all night on the eve of the Fourth. And, they wanted to be claiming their spots. Well, as i strived and toiled about falling asleep with all this highway fun, i was lying my head on my hiking backpack which i thought would be enough padding. It was not. Once again the sand got wicked hard and i couldn't get comfortable. It didn't make sense with all the biking and walking through sand..to no avail, my eyes wouldn't stay shut. Oh wait, i remember why i struggled so much: what made it harder was that i kept waking up through the night to more people pulling in. i'm not exaggerating. You're doing the math right. The hour was LATE, yet people kept rolling in as if it was a bright sunny day and they were going to be setting up camp with all this daylight to aid them.. People just set up their camps in complete dark with some LED lights, always managing to get it right in my eyes. Their aim was impeccable. i Guess some good can be found in this too.. i Wasn't ever run over my some car backing up or waking up outside of someone's tent or right next to a car....until the morning. i Couldn't sleep in at all because some people had moved in pretty close to me and had kept a fire going all night and talked away. And the sun was up pretty fast. At about 7:40 two massive 4X4 trucks pulled in right next to me.. "Right," a word that here means a mere 10 feet from my head. i Knew right then that it was time to move on. They tried to be pleasant and greet me, but there wasn't much use in that as they were pretty much "The Invaders."

My July 4th was pretty eventful as well, but not with such colorful folks (except some retired heavy drinkers at a neighborhood picnic, one of which had brought some Vodka!). The ride home consisted of seeing a ton of traffic and feeling powerful being able to pass these forlorn cars waiting and waiting.

It wasn't a miserable experience really, it was just an Experience. One that i will be sure to plan for better next time..and expect Culture to be there on the beach as well! It saddened me that at some times i didn't feel like i had left the county where my parents live and i confess i attended school for a little bit. The whole point of the trip was to see tourists and people who were from "Wi'min'ton," not the place i liked to avoid. Ah well, i still went to that picnic and laughed with some Vets and got to thank them so, not a complete waste of a Fourth at all! Far from it.

If you serve for our Nation, i thank you and please know that i am proud to be an American. There isn't another place like it, on Earth.

Thoughts from Inside an Internship and Living Alone

It's been a "minute" since i last posted, so i thought i'd update this ol' dreary blog. To give context, i'm living in a cousin's house while they're out of town and dog sitting for them in the morning and night. During the day, i work in an office for a lawyer and his associates who include a Public Relations firm in a metropolis.

Here are some tidbits from a guy who's got some new views on life and its [sometimes] bleak surprises. The list is in no particular order and dull explanations are at the bottom for those..enthusiasts.

1. i Feel odd and forlorn looking through apparel designers websites and the strangely attractive models of the female kind.

2. If you're in an organization, or small business even, and you're trying to sell something, keep a website...please.

3. Stop tooling, fumbling, and fooling around in the kitchen and let your wife-....oh wait.

4. Find out when Mr. and Ms. are necessary..

5. When battling cantankerous bugs of the cockroach family, don't fight unarmed!

6. When in doubt, have an egg.

7. Don't let the wife know that when she's gone i can't make up my mind about which side of the bed to sleep-....oh wait.

8. So. Much. Internet. i Hope my browsing history doesn't break.

9. Unpaid work is going to teach me some valuable lessons..

10. Girlswhosmokeareattractive-girlswhosmokeareattractive-girlswhosmokeare....nope! Still no.

11. Find out when flirting is taking place and adjust accordingly. Stat.

12. Google can be completely worthless, or not.

13. Headphones can make it Real Fun.

14. If ignored, give up. A.S.A.P.

15. When i grow up, make sure to move to a spot with people, lots of.

16. And so, i join this Interesting world of people working a "9 to 5."

Descriptions:
1. One of my assignments at work is to try to build a contact list for clothing manufacturers of athletic apparel, but...i have to sift through a lot of the standard, pricey, strange clothes to find the right one. i May or may not catch myself daydreaming about buying strange clothes for this Future wife of mine and then stroll around NYC like we own it.
2. Getting extremely fed up with people who have a business, but don't keep a website or don't update the web that it's closed or anythang!!... Driving me crazy with how excited i might get and then only to find out i can't find any of their products or at least a website saying it still exists and it hasn't closed up shop.
3. "i'm so single, 12 year olds have more romantic relationships than i do.." -A.R.Y.  So good. But yess, i'm trying strange concoctions in the kitchen and it's not working too well. But it's interesting! i'm learning how far i can go!..getting rice to stick to the bowl and throwing flimsy noodles at wooden cupboards.
4. Now that i'm 21, i find it difficult to still not stick to my roots of addressing elders as, "Mr./Ms." but..there's a problem when she or he is my co-worker....?
5. Somehow there are these monsters that slip into the kitchen and like to terrorize me. For some reason they are thrilled to jump out at me when i'm least expecting it and most unprepared. Do they even?! i'm always trying to do battle with them when i have nothing but my feeble appendages. Still, i remember my manners and ask, "Please, put up your dukes." Normally they're more annoyed, and win with smug expressions on their faces when they scuttle off self-assured.
6. Returning to #3, i eat eggs. A lot. Mostly soft or hard boiled as this is, "healthy?" So, if i'm hungry...i'm learning to just, have another flipping egg.
7. "i'm [still] so single, i have to hang a photo of Ryan Gosling around my neck so girls will look at me." - A.R.Y. Genius. Where i sleep is a good tale though. It's in this Queen sized bed. i Can count how many times i've slept in one..with one or two hands. SO many choices of which side!! Options are endless.
8. For my job...i have to be on the internet. A lot. So, my browsing history has never been so stinkin' packed full! At least i feel like it's full..now i'm wondering if it can get too full? We'll see.
9. Yes. It's as if i'm supposed to be a Servant in this life, or something??....mostlikely.
10. Yep. Sorry but, no. Definitely..no. While a girl swearing is not as bad, it's mighty close to her smoking..for me..
11. Welll, i just need to know. i'm terrible at guessing...it's as bad as me attempting mathematics!! So, plain awful.
12. If you know how to use that incredible tool it can be...unbelievable. For example, narrowing your search to a specific date! Quite amazing.
13. i Sometimes forget these and....all of a sudden, the day creeps by impressingly slow. These little tykes can make your day fly at the office.
14. Somehow, i'm just exceedingly exceptional at catching sight of a tremendously attractive female creature and she completely ignoring me as soon as i do. It never fails. In fact, i'm so talented at this, i think i could go for the gold if i made it an Olympic sport.
15. i Like people. i Have to be sure there are plenty of them wherever God moves me after school.
16. "9 to 5." So..entertainingly filled of an Interesting life....this sort of statement is dripping in sarcasm if you didn't know. Wow, it's certainly a lifestyle!...i just hope i'm ready for it.
17. What in the world?! Stop reading. That's all i've got.. Close this superfluous blog!

Relavant But a Dodgy Subject

Summer 2013 has finally settled in. This past year has been..whew, Something Else!!! That's..an understatement. If you don't mind i'm going to just savor this moment for a minute longer. There, i feel better. Hearts broken/mended (almost), prayers answered/unanswered (Hah, they may seem unanswered but He's got a Plan like always so it's not my problem!), and some wild dreams have occurred...(several nights ago i had the most wild one of all: i was giving youth talks about Marriage. Can you imagine? Me, just me, giving talks, supposed meaningful talks at that, on Marriage of all subjects!? Made me almost mad when i woke up. What a waste of time. As if i know about That!?!!)

Well, i'm an intern at a PR firm in NC and own a car. It feels Real....-ly like a dream. It's like i'm an adult or something....whoahh let's not get carried away. i'm still a college student, no matter how hard i try to enter the grown-up world. i Better get used to it. At least another 2 years.....(hopefully 1.5! We'll see if i can take the strain..doubtful.)

Now for a subject i've thought about here and there as i've gotten older and it's hit me in the face more and more: Pride. Phew, guys/readers, i don't know about you but that is something i just can't quite.."get in to." i Don't mean to sound Lofty, but come on. How much is necessary? True, some arrogance may be allowed for oneself when one accomplishes something Significant...possibly winning an election for President or being able to give back large sums of money to something that helped you grow as an individual but..being proud about just about anythang seems..over the top. Some people are just so Proud. i'm thinking like this because i recently overheard a peer of mine explain how her skills in music and how long she has been singing and so on. i Was so horrified, i could barely focus on my work. This far from unique individual was standing there, mouthing away about her accomplishments and how she's come a long way and how she sounds so good now..

It only gets worse when someone is so proud they do not want to lower themselves and even exchange conversation with someone they deem to be beneath them. What in the world? i Fear, they're missing It.

A while back i was waiting for some associates at a fast food drive-through to get their food and you wouldn't believe what happened. The young lady gave us the food, there wasn't a single, "Thank you..!" and because of this, it was quite awkward. No, more than that. It was, out of place and weird. It didn't make any sense for that to happen and i was, confused. Completely. This may have nothing to do with them being too proud and everything with them just being tired..but it certainly got me thinking nonetheless.

You see, when someone says, "thank you," they aren't just expressing their thanks. They're actually doing something else as well simultaneously. They're bringing themselves down and putting themselves on that same level as they are valuing the other person as well. They want to honor the other person and show that they care enough about that person to say, "i Appreciate you for doing/helping with something i couldn't do by myself unless i were to swap roles with you!" Especially if one is selling some product.

Saying "thank you" is so crucial to me not only because i was raised that way, but because of its implications. Furthermore, it can be applied to the Gospel perfectly. Why do we need to show our appreciation to God? Ahah...(Hint: the Cross and everything else He has done).. This cycles right back to me being perturbed about people being haughty.

If one thinks that highly of his/her self that much, to give so much credit to their own, it is time they re-evaluated what is vital to their lives. 

In a Hurry

Why is everyone in a hurry? Hold on, let me slow down myself and rewind until it makes a little more sense why i've decided to write on this dying and dead website. Specifically, this URL ahah.
Well, apparently it took me an entire year to finish up that last post about pushing plugs on the green and that nearly killed me. i Actually enjoy smashing my head against a keyboard in hopes something magnificent can appear on "Blogger," but as this page shows, that hasn't happened once...well, maybe once. Or twice. Here's the problem, i no longer have time for banging away madly with keys which have letters and numbers. What has changed? Not a ton, but a bunch has.
"Blogger" is what Google decided to call it? Oh fine, "blogspot" just made too much sense (a spot to write a blog on this network of networks). Minor change, but a significant one because i can't figure out this new setup. Good news is that i'm taking an "online publication" course with this site. Perhaps i can learn somet'ang. Please check out my li'l review sites of sorts that takes a look at random but extremely talented musicians: haveyouheardofthem.com!!
i'm now a sophomore and Communications major at my school and headed towards an English minor. i Am still no better than a six year old at math and am concerned i might have to take the GRE if i want to go to grad-school. Problems brewing. i Have several jobs on campus but alas, am not as debonair as i wish and confidence is hard to find as i search daily.
Now that the catching up is all through, on to my rantings.

Why can't people learn to be alone? Well, if that's not a grand ol' Loaded question of sorts, i'm not sure what is. But think for a second. i'm not talking about living 'lonely,' i.e. feeling lonesome and not having a friend in the world. Not at all. This little trifling of a comment is going to be quite foolish yet entertaining i hope as i look for an answer (and fail outstandingly) to why people struggle with Relationships (including..yours truly). Capital "R" for i am speaking about those *cough*notatallunique, individuals who feel they must have a significant other and cannot be without a "bf" or "gf" for more than a few months (regretfully, you know as well as i do that this number of months can be significantly smaller. i.e. weeks for some witless ones). It's beyond me and has my mind often floundering for the answer.

What is it about people that they have to be in a Relationship? Is it because they just want so desperately for someone to share that close connection with? If that's the simple answer than there is a problem. One simply cannot find those connections with friends? If not, then another question springs to mind along with that. Why do people need that intimacy that they just "have to have?" This worries me because this is quite obviously a sinful world.. i Realize my thoughts have been rambling quite a while already, but i'm still concerned...fearful.

People have got to realize there is Something More. He created them. He died for them. What does it take for them to understand they do not have to look anymore? That they can find what will completely fill that hole? i Have to backtrack now and bring myself into this. i Struggle just as much as anybody. i Catch myself wanting that void filled a LOT too often. i Constantly need waking up and reminding that He's right here next to me wanting me to call out to Him. i Can't get away from this just like everybody else can't, and i am at fault for thinking this way just like many others.

So, where can we put our Hope? i Know the answer and i hope you can grasp it better than me. It's God. It's Always God. He's always the Answer we really need, and yet we continue to seek what's here on this condemned earth. Everything dies here or will die. The Bible says so (Matt. 6). i Pray that we can See and Know this Answer, daily.

If we could learn to be "alone" in a happy, non-melancholy way, i know for a fact great changes could be made for people. A certain musician i really look up to named Adam Young writes in a song, "My Captain on His snowy horse, He's coming back to take me Home, He'll find me fighting back a terrible force, 'cause i'm not afraid to die alone!"That's the epitome of the way i want to live. That kind of passion. That kind of fearlessness. All of which can only be gained by God's measureless Grace which He pours out to us every stinking day.

Switching gears just a bit, in pondering the word "hurry," i wonder how many of you not necessarily think of getting in and out of Relationships but just day-to-day. i Catch myself all the time rushing onto the next activity or duty and this even includes food (which i love dearly). As i get older i notice how quickly time is flying. i Can't grasp it. Well, of course, who can "grasp" time but God, but i was remarking on the fact that i don't understand why it has to fly. i Know it's my Duty to use my time well, but i find myself rushing around like wild. So much so that sometimes it slips into my answer of the kind question, "How are you?"

This will do no good. So, it gets me thinking about New Year's Resolutions and what mine should be..which further gets me depressed because we all know what happens with New Year's Resolutions. They die like myspace.com..most of the time.
Instead, i will say "Cheers!" and start this new semester at school and 2013 with hopefully, hopeful eyes that do not scream, "Run, dash, faster! Sleep is for the weak! You imbecile!!" but say nicely, "i'm Looking Up, for There lies my Hope, Life, and Everything."

Pushin' Them Plugs: Chapter Dos and Epilogue

So, after pounding down my snack i had so smartly packed, i was ready to leave for "Player's Club." They told me to take a golf cart over there with a "leveler" so i went to where they were hung up in the shop with the rest of the tools and there was one left. It had a broken handle, making it pretty short and small, but i didn't think anything of it at the time. The metal leveler part was pretty loose and shaky too. Little did i know..i should have thought A LOT about it.

i Tossed it happily into the back of the motorized golf cart, made sure i had enough gas, checked that my full lunch box was in the cart, and took off down the road. To be perfectly honest, i was quite nervous about the directions of where i was going. They didn't want me to take the main road all the way down to Player's Club, naturally. So, there i was tearing along at about 8mph(?maybe slower) on some back roads that had a speed limit of 25 because there were a lot of houses that were so close to the street. Even though the directions weren't clear i somehow found my way at the golf course and was told they had "started on the back" (if i'm remembering right) which meant i would have to find and follow this cart path i had never been on and try and find them soon so i could help... Why was i so eager and excited? i Wish i could tell you. If only i had known what i was getting myself into..
After passing the first few last holes, (i was going backwards from 18) i found them resting in some shade. Let me just reiterate once again about this job. It was one that tested, tried, wore out, tired, exhausted, taxed, strained, challenged, and stretched a full grown man to his breaking point. Of course, i had no idea about this. After a few minutes of sitting on our carts, we drove to the next green where i was told what to do. "It's pretty simple...we're just pushin' these plugs. See that?" The big oafish gentleman said to me pointing at the green. There on the green there were countless pieces of grass stuck together in sort of the shape of a slug and about that long too. Please feel free to read up and become learned in "picking up aeration plugs on golf greens" "Mhm yes sir," i said still happy. "Well, all you do is this," and he demonstrated for me by pushing down on the leveler and walking at a fairly strong stomp of a pace.
Starting in the middle as they all showed me, i pushed down and began strutting across the green. The first several seconds were a breeze. The plugs stayed in front of my tool and i pushed away. About halfway across from where i had started, making it about a fourth of the way to my destination on the "collar" of the green where we pushed the plugs, i suddenly felt an immense weight in front of me and i had to push down with significantly more force. Then, i began losing consciousness. i Thought to myself, "If i'm busy doing this for another hour or two, i think i'll be done. In all meanings of the word." However, i struggled on with this leveler and tried my hardest. After an hour or so of pushing plugs to the collar, i also had to help pick them up with a plastic, big, snow shovel. Very hard work as well as once you get the shovel full you must hoist it up about 4 feet to throw into the back of a truck.
This went on for a while before one of the guys who had joined us later said to me in broken english, "You work with a small one?" i Figured out he was talking about my leveler and how it was shorter than everybody's. It had been broken at the top but i still had no qualms about it. If only i knew this kind Hispanic would be changing my life. He gave me a bigger one and suddenly... i Could go to TOWN on these plugs. Basically, i could "PWN these n00bs." Essentially, i could "take them down to China Town." What i'm trying to say is, i owned it.
We stopped for lunch (2 hefty size hamburgers from a local place) for about 20 to 25 minutes and then tore into it again. By about 3:45 we had another break and i had a healthy portion of the leftovers, which i thoroughly enjoyed by the way. Superb.
All in all, i was eating, sweating, drinking, eating, and sweating so much my body didn't know what was going on. The day stretched on and i just kept pushin' them plugs until about 4:30 when i got to clock-out. On reaching home, i had never felt relief and just plain "dog-tiredness" as i did on walking through that back door.

Epilogue
Well reader, you have come to the end of this little/extremelylong story filled with much blood and tears, but i thank you for reading this adventure in my life. It was one i shall never forget. Whether it was the strange conversation i shared with some of these older guys, or how much difference it made to have a regular size leveler, i was thankful for the experience. If there was something i learned that day (in all honesty, i believe i learned a ton), it is to "never give up, even when you think you can't push any longer, push 'til the end for it will be the end sooner than later." And, "Eat lots of food."

Pushin' Them Plugs: Chapter Uno

As promised (well, fine i definitely didn't promise anything so just live with it anyway), i shall now recount my very first day "pushing plugs on the greens" for that striving serious sweaty slave struggle of a job i had over the summer of 2011 (a summer that was so hot and humid and unlike any partier out of high school has possibly ever had). Note to reader: This may turn out to be novel-like (meaning chapters of uselessness) and another perfect (and i mean flawless), supremely, the best way to..waste your ever precious time. Of course, if i really want to make you sad, i would say something like, "Well, you're already dying right now as you read and time passes, so, you could stop now and do something worthwhile like stare at the clock for five minutes, or, just continue."
Well the morning began, 4:45 (if i remember right, unless it was a rare morning where i got up later around..5:18..) just like every other day of the week (except Sunday naturally) where I removed myself from the gloriously old bedframe and clomped down stairs to stir up something in the kitchen. If i remember right (forgive me if i keep saying this but it's "trying" to say the least when trying to remember something that happened in July when one has experienced several x 8 blog-worthy escapades), all i created from the cupboards was a bowl of cereal, hand-pourn and eaten. Classic.
After yanking the refridgirator's doors wide open (being sure NOT to slam them into the corner of the wall that perfectly stands so a careless individual would easily blast the door against the wall leaving a hedious black mark on the white fridge) and searching for my prepared lunch (gathered the night before in the second to biggest tup-a-ware my family owns which held an amazing peanut sauce stir fry dish that my father NAILS), i stealthily closed the doors (blatant lie as everyone knows who has a fridge with that impossible rubber suction lining that has to make that tell-tale "sshhht!!!!" sound no matter how much you RULE in the kitchen and sneaking treats when it's not Treat Day!!!1) and proceeded to hurdle up the stairs, silently, and brush the teeth (all four) vigorously.
Granola bar, nuts, amazing rice and stir fry that was fit for a king, i believed i was set. Tearing out of the garage (with definitely not half as much as speed as that curazy fiend of a Pops i have) i drove to work. On arrival i learned how that it was going to be pretty normal (except of course for the fact that...i had no idea what the day had to share so willingly with me) for i had to do the SandPro. So you don't have to go look up a defition or Heaven forbid actually read and waste more time on this bleak blog, basically it's a machine that smoothes the sand in the bunkers and makes it look good for the grouchy old people; they can then madly stomp and sink to attempt at rescuing their ball. i Don't recall anything about this particular morning of SandPro that is worth mentioning, so just, thank your stars (however many you have, personally i'm trying to find my first one) and read about what happened next.
After washing the SandPro (with a hose that was powerful enough to wash down the USS Arizona ship and also send that hulking terrible boyfriend to the moon with one spurt of water), i plodded to the break room to get one of my snacks (mixed nuts?) and look on the white board for my second job for the day. It revealed these haunting words, "PLAYER'S CLUB" i Had no idea what it meant, naturally, but assumed that i was going to work there for the rest of the day (easily 4.5+ hours). i Went to see one of my supervisors about it and did not hear too much detail. They told me i was going to be "pushing plugs" over at the Player's Club (another golf course that was on the same land as the one i worked at) and working with a leveler.
Ah, there i was. About to transfer for the day to another course to help with a job that i knew nothing about. Classic. (No really, in all honesty this actually was classic as every stinking job i managed to grasp i knew nothing about. Yes.) After hearing briefly about what i was going to do, my supervisors were standing around taking a little break and sniggering about something. i Quickly figured out, it was indeed this job they were talking about and how i was going to help them out.
"Hahah, oh yeah, you might like that.." One said with a gleam and mysterious smile.

Swoop Attack Ops.

i Must begin with an apology. That last blog was so boring, after posting it and skimming it for errors i gave up after the first sentence. If you haven't read it, let me save you from certain death. Reading that one won't be necessary. Perhaps i can tell about "pushing plugs" on the greens one day and it will be a tad more entertaining as opposed to that pile of nonsensical garbage.

Onto much more dreadful Tales of Woe.

The other early evening we (two sisters of mine and myself) were enjoying ourselves at the beach. We had just returned from a Food Lion and we bore such bounty and booty, i felt invincible and couldn't wait for a good time with sandy towels and surprise crunches in the mouth.

i Began by emptying the few, small grocery bags (at least 5) and neatly placing the items onto the already sandy towels. There was excitement in the air to say the least. i Reached for the footlong, store bought, ham and turkey sub which was tightly and securely wrapped in plastic only to discover in dismay it wasn't cut. My intelligent sister had stole some plastic-ware packets however, and promptly ripped and "sliced" the sandwich in half. i Picked up some mustard and tabasco packets (yes, more packets holding useful tools) and proceeded to drizzle the sub.

It was perfect. i Was starving. The approximate 6 in. sub in my hands with wonderful flavorful sauces evenly distributed about. i Took a bite. i Took another chunk out of the sandwich. My sister poured some Bolthouse Farms (Passion Fruit and Guava infused) into some coffee cups and it was beautiful. The sandwich was almost a fourth done when i saw a few seagulls out of the corner of my eye, hovering and flapping in the wind. i Should have known, the plan was in motion already. i Didn't stand a chance.

As i reached for my cup with my left hand and held the sub with my right, i enjoyed that last fatal slurp of my juice with gusto. But it was too late.

i Heard a bone-chilling screech and flurry of wings and feather near my left ear. i Threw my eyes off the bottom of the cup and cast them upon my sandwich only to see a blur of white and feel an odd sensation scraping across my right thumb.

Talons. Large ones. They were the odd sensation i was feeling, but that was nothing compared to the thoughts of dread and despair that was welling up fast inside me. i Knew what was happening. i Knew what was about to happen.

Images of little tykes and portions of food that are obviously too big, and some mean creature rips it out of their grasp, flashed through my mind and i knew i fit into that category. i Watched in horror as my sandwich was carried just a few hundred feet before it fell and these vicious gulls made short work of it.

i Didn't know whether to scream, cry, shout obscenities, yell expletives, or get up and chase them foolishly. My sister took care of it for me by deciding to scream and accomplish the latter. It caused a weak smile, but i knew i was robbed.

i Had been robbed senselessly. There was nothing i could do and that just added to my hopeless situation.

i Kept looking back at those wretched seagulls who had devoured some po' boy's meal, and tried to shoot as many icy daggers with my eyes as possible. To no avail. They stared back and out to see, waiting and hoping for something else. This is what i couldn't stand. They had taken my sandwich but still, some hovered near by waiting to fly and swoop down in one finale fatality.

We watched what we were holding from then on. We ate in fear and always kept an eye to the sky.

i Was sure there were congratulations and grateful thank-yous passed around to that seagull who pulled that sneaky, hideous fast one. To that cursed bird, it must be weary in the future. i Have asked for fire from Heaven, or a chance to give it a serious talking to, at least.

It has to know, it's my worst foe.

A Day in the Life of.. Just Another Amigo

This, in many much words, is going to sum up how i acquired a job on a golf course when i know very little about one. Before i begin, there may be golf terms in here that you may not know. Please let me tell you i knew nothing of these terms when i started this job and gradually learned more and more. Please don't expect definitions throughout as i had to figure out a bottom-load of them for myself and you should too; or don't and you will be fine, or better off. Firstly, after graduating early from high school in January, i knew i wanted to get into some local drama. The kind with actors that can pull off fake emotions. Not so much the other which would entail who's dating who or worse, violence or rather obscene activities being accomplished. So, i simply e-mailed the first name on the list of Board of Directors for Bruns. Little Theater. A nice gentleman replied and i found out that BLT would be thrilled to have me in a production but in the meantime, would i mind helping with another production.

As it turned it out, i met a retired Broadway set designer and light technician. This well educated gentleman into his 80's was not quite suited for scrambling up and down ladders. So, i became that. "Scrambling" is a suitable word for it, but hauling myself up and down also fits. Anyway, in the show this family was incredibly nice and invited me to drive with them to Wilmington almost every day to go to rehearsals for another show they were in. i Told them that i was unemployed and they said that they were the head of golf at four courses near my house. i Walked into an interview soon after and suddenly, i wasn't jobless anymore. God bless that family for they not only gave me rides so i could be in a show, but also hooked me up with a job!

So, i started my job on a chilly Saturday morning at 6:30. Still pretty dark in March, and in a new territory, it was a rough day. They allowed me to be off on Sunday, and so my schedule turned out to be 6:30-10:30AM Monday and Wednesday (i was in a Biology class at a community college) and the rest of the week 6:30-2:30 (except on Fridays and Saturdays which were 6:30-10:ish). 30 minute lunch in there somewhere which is always so so GOOD and tasty when it may just be a few sandwiches. i Start my day now at about 4:45 in the morning so i can read my Bible and make breakfast for myself. Pretty serious beginning for the long day ahead, but it's really worth it.

The work that must be done: i Am currently a Sand Master (self-titled, naturally) if i may gush. i Do this job about every day and i've really actually grown a liking to it, although most people think it tiresome and too much work. i Drive the Sand Pro 5040 and it is an interesting job filled with..well, sand. A noisy rusty rake. And all manner of creatures that like paddling around in sand.

The first part about manning this small tractor is that it is slow. Much slower than the big fairway mowers. Slower than any of the old golf carts which start up after holding the gas pedal to the floor for well over 25 seconds some times and have a hysterical delayed reaction that could cause serious injury, death, or the hilarious part which is the sudden unexpected jolt and neck snapping whiplash. Not as slow as Christmas, as the saying goes, but slow enough to make you smile. In other words, you can waste a ton of time on the clock just by driving to the next bunker.

The other part is real simple. i Have to be CAREFUL. When exiting a sand trap, one can easily tear up the turf. i Basically have to gun the engine 98% of the time to get out so that no grass is ruined. It's tough, and leaves a mess most of the time. i Have to stop, get off, rake behind in the bunker, feather out the sand that may have been thrown out of the bunker too by the brush on the back of the Sand Pro, and lastly stamp and place torn grass back in the spot as best as i can.

i Have to fill it up with FREE gas and wash it off at the end of doing that job which normally takes a good 3 and a half hours (sometimes longer if i can help it.:). Then go and park it back in it's rightful place at the "shop" (a big warehouse with all the equipment and room for two mechanics).

So then there's the other parts of the job. Edging cart paths with an edger. Edging bunkers with a weed-eater flipped upside down. Weed-eating. Edging sprinkler heads which is an extensive job because of how many sprinklers may be on a par 5 or 4. Very many much. Lots. And my personal favorite, spraying weeds with Round Up.

For the weed spraying, i use this 3-speed truck that has a 200+ gallon tank and i fill it with 100 gallons of water and 4.5 gallons of Round Up and this herbicide called Scythe. The latter smells strangely strong so it's probably safe to say i shouldn't be swimming in, or swigging it. i Also put a blue dye in it so i don't spray the same plant more than necessary. i Really like the blue look as it makes me think of alien plants that have a greenish-bluish look that makes them look so healthy and..alien. The first time i sprayed however, i used a green dye and this was so ironic because as i killed these plants, i first painted them so they looked more fertile and healthy as ever.

My schedule now, is: clocking in at 6 and working until 2:30 Mon.-Thurs. and 6:30-10:30 on Fri. and Sat. These are such long weeks, but i have been really blessed with this job, despite the wild hours of the morning. So many are without work.

All in all, sure the summer hasn't really been one for me, but i have never learned so much and worked so hard i am positive it's good for me. Perseverance and Patience have been boosted through this job, but i know they could be better as always.

Still striving to be better, but what a Great Truth it is to know that He will get me There.

Phrases on TV

It's Valentine's Day (yes i hate the reminder too if you just sighed a great one), i thought it necessary to share another Tale of Woe. If you are having, or had, a wonderful day celebrating this lovely Saint, then please do not continue to scan this as i might encourage mournful looks and thoughts about me (or evil grins fit for frightening fireflies).

However, this is not a blog about some lonely kid in his late teens. If you continue, you shall see soon enough.

As i've grown up, some pet hates have surfaced like they do with most people if you are normal. The one in this post that i shall rant about can be summed up in two words that have cut me deep more than once. "Empty Words" by Bowery Electric is a strange yet true tune about just that; hence, the reference in the title.

It started i suppose when i moved from the jungle to the Golden State. So many people threw around sweet and far from meaningful words like, "I LOVE you!!!!" This in itself are empty words at their best. Of course they don't mean it, yet they insist on using it with an even bigger smile. How can somebody do this to an unfortunate boy of 17 that is wondering why they say such kind words and only mean, "At this moment in time, you're a cool cat who i laugh at."

Is it my place to judge how they felt inside? Of course not reader, but am i significantly sure of their true feelings? Oh yes. It only got worse when i began to feel something fluttering around inside me when i heard those words from exceptionally beautiful girls.

After i moved again to this pond edge, it did not get any better. As a matter of fact, it went more South than a penguin can swim.

So what to do, go on pretending this has no effect on me? Or, write a blog getting my anguish out there? i Guess i took the latter.

Honesty. So much sense in that word, it's a mystery to me why this world and this place i'm in now is so averse to it. It hits me now though, the world thrives on masks. Society today tells us everyday we should wear our masks, if not for the simple reason of everyone else wearing theirs. Honestly, i am worn out about the whole deal. i Hate wearing a mask, yet i feel i must. Online it is necessary, that is a given. There are too many individuals out that prey on dreadful subjects like slimy lettuce, filthy dank swimming pools, and double barrel fishing. Although in groups at work or school or the local greasy burger stop, it is a tough world when friends cannot trust each other.

Can one be an honest person and still like throwing in words that on the surface sound nice but under, don't mean anything? i Guess it depends on the person. No matter, my plan is to become even more honest than i am. It sickens me how people can give meaningless compliments and such that may make the receiver feel comfortable and perhaps have a bigger head as a result.

So why do people bother with words, if they don't mean them? Ah, now here is a conundrum i wish i knew how to solve. Maybe it is the personality that makes them feel like they need to use hollow words to make themselves feel better. If this is the case, i feel sorry for them. They must find another way to make themselves happy around people, or they may end up friendless, if it goes that far.

Valentine's Day for me has never been that special, but today i got enough inspiration to write this. i'm more than fed up with empty words and this is all i could muster. Too many have been used and i hope they run out soon. Some may feel more profound than you realize.

Did you say that too, or am i mistaken, i felt it happen, but i just know you...

A Hefty Sting

Well reader(s?? The thought has entered my mind more than once, believe it or not, how many of you there are), i thought it appropriate to spin another yarn of uselessness to keep you updated about the latest drastic change to yours truly.

It was a day of trial and error for some. For somebody else, significant apertures in his head. Well, "openings" or "gaps" do not do it justice for you see, these are more like gulches, or an African pothole. But, enough of losing the writer and reader to information that can wait. Let me begin by saying i had been praying about this day for over eight months. Hard road. It stunk. But on to the day, Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011.

After a hardy breakfast of approximately 10 or 12 pancakes topped with Natural Jif. i Took a shower knowing full well it was to be my last, with two of my smarter teeth. Today was the day i was to get two [almost] innocent and bright teeth prodded, yanked, towed, and jerked out of my head.

A rainy and grey day to match my mood, i headed off in the car with the dad at the wheel. On arrival, instead of the cliché wood frame around glass as a door, it was solely the wood frame with cardboard. Complete with one of the most hospitable signs a local dentist could offer. Yes, my thoughts exactly, hospitable and this profession never walk hand in hand. In fact they detest each other with so much hatred and malice, they're on opposite poles.

i Barely had walked into the room at 8 AM and learned that another dentist had been hit by a burglar as well, 20 minutes earlier the previous night, when one in white asked me a question that should be kept far away from a place with such worry, anxiety, fretfulness, and [most importantly as you will be sure to be warned about] pressure.

"Theodore? Are you ready?"

That standing alone could make me type for hours about such an absurdity. i Won't bore you, but let me just conclude with a quick thought about it. She had not processed the question before she spoke. As she began saying the words, i noticed she knew she had made a mistake.

Begrudgingly, i plodded after her with the most heavy steps. As i mentioned before, my appointment was in the little pond edge town i live in. Not some urban city with sidewalks and buildings all around. In a town with a town cannon named Thor and a waterfront fit for fishers and their beer. Not some metropolis with oral surgeons with green salad pinned to fans and walls constructing streamers in front of doorways. Needless to say, i was not "going under." i Was not going out like a light, while they pulled and tugged and ripped.

My eyes were in full function. The entire time of trauma and torment.

Why in the world would my parents make me go through with this, and i agree? It's easy. "Don't make us happy, save money!" i Chant for my parents to remind them i'm not their best kid. In this case, it was a strenuous path to follow. Nevertheless, it began.

"We're going to numb you first, then we'll get started." The attractive dark haired girl said. Ah, finally a statement. Whether i agreed or opposed strongly (the latter obviously), it didn't matter for obvious reasons. i Asked one lady if i could sneak in an earphone while they labored and slogged, and the reply was [in all seriousness,.. this time] music to my ears. They told me to get comfortable and fiddle with the magically slim 2nd generation, which was over too quickly. i Had fixed a playlist to last at least a minimum of two hours and thirty minutes. i Had my left earphone set in place and the doctor was up to mischievousness behind my head.

"Open wide for me." These words in a place of such fear and stress just don't quite fit either. They insist on utilizing them with clarity however.

Needles.

Sting.

"You're going to feel a little sting in a second." -Whamslam- Stung-ed. Then, "And this one is going to sting the worst." -Jabbing needle into roof of mouth- First thoughts you ask? How about as politely and censored as possible, "Excuse me but @#$%, i think you missed the @#$%9 gum where the tooth is. @#$%. For, my toofs rest on this red hill see. Not quite in the middle of @#$% my head." Oh well, needles were over. Good...i thought. i Was told to rest my jaw and wait for a few minutes.

Before i knew it, i was asked yet another question. "Are you feeling pretty numb in there?" i Sure hope so ma'am, i'm hoping i'm so numb you could drive your vehicle over the right side of my face. i Should have said, but i think i just mumbled a weak "Mhmm...yes."

The decision was made to take care of the one on top that wasn't protruding forward and hiding garbage and possibly an answer to my problems, but that's another report. Reaching behind my head again, a shovel was grasped within the pretty gloved hands and i was told more fateful words. (The conversation that went on during this time was enthralling to say the least. i'm sure you can tell.)

"You're going to feel a lot of pressure, but there shouldn't be any pain. Let me know if there is any."

Such warm words of encouragement. A comedian talks about feeling this same pressure and well, it's a riot. He warns that a doctor could be brandishing a two by four and say informatively, "In a moment you're going to feel a little pressure." This sums it up. My head was twisted and catapulted every which way, while simultaneously feeling like the equivalent of having someone duct tape your soul and start wrenching with all their might. Then a pleasant pop, and a real tooth with real cementum hovered over my face for a second before disappearing forever.

This has gone on too long, permission to halt your reading is granted anytime, day or night. The bottom tooth had to come out still. The impacted one. The that had come in facing forward. Tasty.

i Was told she had to drill the tooth because unlike the other one, it was pushing against a molar. The other one they could gouge and simply yank with small pliers [my dad had brought probably, saving money issue]. i Was told once more to let her know (or scream i wanted to plead?) if it hurt. The drilling commenced. Throbbing did too. i Tried to look as helpless as possible and squint my eyes with all my might, keeping them open so she could see the anguish. More needles. Shot up with more Novocain (a derivative of it truthfully, i learned), she was ready to battle the heartless and cruel enemy of mine now. Drilling. More. And water with the drill and that absolutely worthless tool that is supposed to suck up the "stuff" i don't wallow in or swallow. (i Wonder if anyone at all has even thought of a better option. Screwy business.)

Stabbing pangs. More shots. And this cycled through at least one more time totaling at about six (yep, 6) shots of this supposedly anesthetized senseless substance. She gave up and said she was off to get "the big guns." She had never done impacted "wisdom" teeth before.

The doctor who was taking care of me, had never removed my sort of teeth. This narrator, was again a "guinea pig" for someone's career. The Guns entered and proceeded to grab hold of the Devil with the failing pliers, and cracks louder than Old West dynamite booms sounded. It didn't give up. The Guns did.

He told her he was going to let her do it after giving some more inconceivable intel. about "flapping." (Maybe i had too much wannabe Novocain.) She continued, with a nervous agreement and look toward the Big Guns. Finally, it came out. Announcing with triumph, naturally for she, and i the guinea pig, had passed through the Abyss.

Many much warnings and plenty of information given, i said a feeble thank you and swayed and sauntered off forgetting my wind-breaker.

This pointless notation hurt me too. The ravines in my skull now quiver from being talked about to this extent.

Parting remark: When asked if i saw the teeth after they came off, i answered with a yes and an acknowledgement that i had seen them "carry" it off. Although, heaved and hauled is much more fitting.

Cold Summer Morning

Let me start by describing how i never thought this day would come. i'll just jump right to it and not let you sweat and suffer until i tell you bluntly to cause you a little less stress, for once.

Some time earlier this week i learned about a possible hot air balloon ride early Sunday morning. If that short statement of awe didn't intrigue you, please stop reading now. i Wish i could convince you like Lemony Snicket because if i could you would be sure to stop. He writes so convincingly sometimes i came pretty close to stopping as he continued to suggest but that's what kept my eyes running...over the pages.

Anyway, it was a REMAX donation event where they were trying to help Children's Miracle Network i believe. The gist (where did we get this strange and incoherent term? Glad you're wondering too and want to learn something about the English language during your sunny summer of laziness. Just read that it comes from the great Français verb "gesir" meaning "to lie". It entered the English language 'as a legal term' in 1688. Thank you for reading this brief and informative history lesson in its entirety and yes it is now at a close and you may continue to snore uproariously, for after all you are in summer break and wouldn't dare be taught anything of value in this day of partying, nonsense, and clods of sunblock.) is that you could give any donation and "take a ride in a hot air balloon". Inviting? Quite.

Woke up at 4:56 this morning when i set my alarm for 4:30. We were going to leave at 5. Well, it still worked out. We got there with too much time anyway. i Was sure everyone and their sister and puppies would want a free ride. Wouldn't you assume so too? It's only logical. Everyone does want to ride in one, surely. Well, we arrived with the people setting up and i tried fitfully to try and sleep. Did i mention it was about a 40 minute minivan ride to this field and i didn't sleep a wink? i Was so thrilled i couldn't sleep well last night and was happily flipping and flopping around like a balled up wet pair of boxer shorts in a washing machine set on spin cycle.

At around 7 i gave up and stepped out into a dew covered field that had a petite bite to the air. Mr. Hot Air Balloon Man was having some adults and little girls help him spread it out. Not to be out done by some 6, 'scuse me, 7 and a half year olds, i scuttled over to the balloon and was told to get on some working gloves. Boy oh boy, electrifying. The thought of helping Mr. Hot Air Balloon Man out let alone soaring off the ground? Special. Oh so.

The burly hairy man of a man told us recruits that he needed people holding the balloon open while he shot air, and later hot air, into the mammoth airship. Yes, i did jump at one of those jobs. The other job included holding ropes and for this he needed several. My job was just with three others; two of them held some more, yes, ropes while the other actually held the blimp open. i Made sure to ask the manly stock Balloon Man if my job i had just ignorantly volunteered for needed a sturdy soul, but he assured me without a smile that it didn't.

i Held it open but i made a mistake in the first second. He had a fan blowing powered by a gas motor. It was on my side. Hooray. My shorts turned into sails and flapped foolishly around my legs and it wasn't long before they were blown clean off and i was left...

All right all right, but they were sails. Real sails, ballooning ridiculously up and tearing back and forth shouting in competition with the outboard. Dazzling. Nevertheless, i held on to that ring that felt like it belonged to a ballroom gown and awkwardly tried to continue to hold my useless left foot down on it. It ever so slowly began to rise and i anxiously thought up terrible possible future events if i were to let my spindly fingers slide a tad away from the hoop.

Finally, he began to try and fill it with hot (no it's not hot air for those of you who still don't know. It is burning flames shot into the balloon. "Hot" my eye. Yes i know you knew that, but it makes me feel brighter and more knowledgeable about this field of work that i don't know a lick about. Ahah.) air but alas, crosswinds started to blow and rudely interrupted.

It began again of me trying to desperately hold on and not think too drastically about the ever approaching future as my hands grew more tired. It worked with patience of which i utterly had lacked all morning.

Instead of describing in full in another 16 to 38 paragraphs of a cold hot air balloon adventure in which i sailed the clouds and gazed into the depths of the sea and saw sharks and dolphins and all manner of sea life playing and singing happy songs, i will crush your hopes instead. i Did not go more than 40 feet in the air and stayed tethered to a few vehicles below.

Was it worth it? By all means. Every bit of it. Why might you demand so indignantly? Because my one friend, i still rode and spent some of the day in a... "cold hot air balloon!" i Thanked Mr. Hot Air Balloon Man and tried to get his attention by calling him this but he didn't take much notice for he was busy talking to the new riders.

Singing the song on the way home i couldn't help but grin from nostril to nostril as i could cross off traveling in one of those giants. However, i'll still keep my eyes peeled for another venture.

To make the day just one step better it was July 4th. Happy Independence Day. i Was invited to our back-back porch that was ghettoly added to our house and enjoyed a bowl of fresh silver blueberries with cream and whipped cream sprayed with care from a Wal-Mart aerosol can i probably had run to get at the last moment last trip. Pretending you are in the Tour de France nix the bicycle in Wal-Mart is a must.

Another good addition. Sailship has posted two new songs to celebrate too. i've had them on manual repeat for..all day.

One more for the road? Mark Swickley posted lyrics too.

One more for Chuck Norris because...yeah. We watched fireworks through some trees from our screened-in back porch. They were illegal, fun, noisy, and bright. i Further believe they were being shot off from a hoity-toity golf corse near by that needed commotion like that.

These were made so much more enjoyable because the parents were ecstatic. They kept shouting joyful noises such as, "YES! Another one!" "Do it again!" "Yes!" "Do another one!" i Won't put them all in bold, or caps or italics because if you know that merry couple than you know that they can get loud. No, honestly. Surely every retired soul could have heard them through the concrete and closed windows as they tried wearily to close their old and rich eyes. (Not poor because that wouldn't make any sense.)

Yes.

Hope your Fourth was as special or more and you ate enough to stuff you up to the rafters. Some were eating hot dogs and burgers. i Had a tasty chicken salad and homemade ice cream with Malted Milk.

Extraordinary. ;)

Oh, last note. You wanted a patriotic message full of usable intel. to share with your family next year and your grand kids later? It looks like i left that out. Well, it does not have "great sharing abilities" and it most likely doesn't "connect with your troublesome teens this summer" but you can read Flags just for you to um, read.

Flags

Okay, so it's summer. Well no it's actually, Summer.

It's here and it's going to be a busy one. Haven't figured out what i'm going to be doing precisely in the next few weeks, but it's busy. Summer summer. That word doesn't scream "busy" does it? Well maybe it does. So, i'm writing these ridiculous blogs so you two can scan them over with a lazy eye and come to the conclusion that you really are wasting your time. Oh well, i said it. i Think i said this before but... These are mainly to raise the eyebrows and maybe let a smidgen of a grin graze your mind. That's it. So, if it doesn't accomplish that well... It's wasting so much of your time i do believe you might as well keep reading and never give up; theo Shepard should come to a good point by the year 2039 and the surgery is successful up there.

The 14th was Flag Day. i Was woken up by my parents on the phone saying "Happy Flag Day!" around bright and early 9 in the morning in the...Summer. Yes.

My mom thought we should celebrate. i Thought, why in the world... Not? So, i got online and started looking up what you inquire so urgently? Yes! Water parks. It turns out the closest one is 40 minutes away and it doesn't have many slides, as well as being sort of pricey unless i was a child of 6 and under. Who knows, i might've been able to slide under the gate and claim i was three and free. A little girl today told me "Anything is possible 'cause God can do anything." ("Faith Like a Child... Duh duh, deeh dehh, duh duh dehh.." Oh apologies; was singing a..)

Alas, i did not go gallivanting to Myrtle Waves or any other water park and perform shenanigans anywhere. Except... A text message saying there was to be a "party" at the youth leaders' house. Really just a fun hangout time so the married happy couple could show off their new unit of residence, i think.

Had to get gas first and that meant going into the ol' Ocean Town. Decorated to the lamp post it was. Flags and some mo'! Everywhere i looked. Yes, the cars too! i Felt out of place...sort of. So, why didn't i take a picture and post it up on this here vociferation? Well let me tell you that is another blog in itself!!!!!!! Well it'd be kind of short, but it's still sort of a story. You see, i didn't think about people decorating or caring about this country's flag. It didn't cross my mind at all. There's the blog post. Shucks, that was it?

Actually it is. i Am proud to be an American. i Suppose i only now understand what it means when you leave the country and live without, America. These people down here, they're committed. At least most are because it was a sight. The flags lined the road and i wish i had taken a picture with my wonderful photography skills because that would've given somewhat of a mere image of what it was like. Why isn't everybody patriotic? Surely there is something in everyone's country that they absolutely love and can't find it anywhere else. Wouldn't that one person/belief/place etc. be enough to make that person see that he/she really is proud? For me it's belief. The right to believe what one wants. The Best News is, i know the Truth and He gets to change their minds. The sad truth is i don't think every town in the U.S. put up it's flag that Monday. Must they be so, proud?

Anyway, on my way to the youth leaders' house i took a left on Flagship Dr.

It was spectacular.