Moving back to my hometown of Roanoke, Virginia has been a little bit harder than I imagined it would be. I mean, I grew up here. This is where I went to school. Where I grew up in church. Yet, coming back here is like moving to an entirely different world than the one I've grown so used to.
Before I moved to Wake Forest, I dreaded it. Sure, there was a part of me that was excited about starting a new phase of my life, but I was basically terrified. This seems to be a running theme throughout my blog posts this week. But it's what I'm feeling these days, I promise I'll move on to more optimistic posts soon.
Anyway, I adjusted. Wake Forest became my home. I'm sure it took a while. But eventually it's where I fit. I say that because, looking back, I can't remember feeling about Wake Forest the way I do about Roanoke today.
In the few weeks since learning of my new position at the bank, I've been asked a hundred times if I'm excited to be moving back home. Of course, I've been telling people yes. Because that's what they want to hear, right? But is it really what I've been feeling?
Like with my initial move to Wake Forest, I suppose there is a certain element of excitement. There should always be some kind of excitement when faced with a truly unknown next step. That's part of the adventure of living. But honestly, I think I feel more afraid about moving back here than I did about moving to North Carolina four years ago.
But I don't want to focus on being afraid. If I do that, I'll look for my first escape back to North Carolina, and that could cause me to miss out on something incredible. I don't know what that incredible something could be, but I hope it's something incredible. Wow, that was redundant.
Instead, let's focus on what I'm coming home to. Obviously, my family is here. Now, there are pros and cons to that aspect of coming home. I won't list those here. It's probably bad enough that I'll have family members reading this seeing that there aren't just pros to being near family. Look, we all have family and it can be a wonderful thing. But if you don't have a list of cons where blood is concerned, you're kidding yourselves. Love you folks, really do, but like I said... there's good and there's bad.
Moving on. There's a new job. Again, pros and cons that I won't go into here. There's the excitement of something new and fresh and the potential for a higher income. But there's the fear of failure. I close my eyes at night and then I hear the voices. Not literally, but you know the ones I'm talking about. The ones that whisper the "what if's" into my not-quite-sleeping brain. What if I'm not good enough? What if I can't adjust to the new job? What if I go through all the proper training (all 3 months of it) and still can't get the job done? How do I turn those questions off?
But then there are things that Roanoke has that Raleigh doesn't have. There's a big fluorescent star on a mountain in the middle of the city. I mean, who doesn't get turned on by a hundred foot tall neon star? There's Macado's, my favorite restaurant of all time. Don't ask me why, because I really don't have an answer. It's a sandwich place, and sandwich places should really be a dime a dozen. But to me, Macado's is kind of special. Raleigh didn't have anything close.
Roanoke also has a closer proximity to my college friends. These are the people that I know will be my friends my entire life. They're the ones that I can share anything with and could go years without seeing, but still be able to pick up right where we left off as if we didn't miss a day together. Now I won't have to go years without seeing a lot of them, because I'm a lot closer to them.
But I will miss things in Raleigh. I'll miss the Cheesecake Factory. Ironically, the only time I ever had a real meal at the Cheesecake Factory was when I was visiting the Charlatan back when he lived in Charlotte. But I did stop by the one in Raleigh a few times and got a slice of cheesecake to go. Really, is that any more special than getting cheesecake anywhere else? Wait, let me answer that. Yes, it is more special.
Raleigh also had a P.F. Chang's, which was phenomenal. If I'd had the chance to actually ask Spider-Girl out on a real date, I probably would have taken her there. Assuming she liked Chinese food. Place was phenomenal. I already said that, didn't I? Moving on...
Raleigh didn't just have great restaurants (although the Moonlight Pizza had some pretty amazing pizza), it had people that I'll miss, and already miss. I miss my co-workers, believe it or not. I wrote a lot of Legends of the Bank Teller, and not all of them were positive legends. But when it comes right down to it, I enjoyed working with those guys. I know I just said this the other day, but it's worth saying again. For every time I got frustrated over a customer, causing me to kick my coin locker, there were just as many times when I was able to laugh, or to make someone else laugh. Made it all worth it.
And, of course, there's the Most Awesome Person I Know and her five kids. They were my family for four years, and as far as I'm concerned, they still are. I'm sorry that I didn't see them in recent months as much as I used to. But as it usually does, life got busy and hectic for each of us. Luckily there's the magic of cell phones and Facebook and Skype to help with the whole "keeping in touch" thing.
Maybe it sounds crazy, but there's Spider-Girl too. I know nothing happened between us, and now there's about a 99.9% chance that nothing ever will. But the possibility once existed. That's one of the things I'll miss about Raleigh. I'll miss the opportunity that might have been.
But what's to come for me here in Roanoke? I honestly don't know. You might look back at my posts from the last few days and assume I've already decided to give up. There's a part of me that wants to give up. That's probably the easiest thing to do at this point. But I can't do that. I won't do that. If I give up now, how will I be able to look at myself in the mirror? How will I be able to respect myself? How will I ever expect anyone else to respect me?
No, the easy way isn't always the right way. I'm embracing this transition. This move is just the next step in becoming the person that I'm becoming.
Showing posts with label Thoughts Of An Insomniac. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts Of An Insomniac. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The Dream on the Train
To understand this dream that I had, you're kind of going to need to suspend belief in reality for a bit. And it isn't necessarily because the train itself was a physical impossibility (that will make sense later), but because in it, I star as something of an action hero. Unbelievable, right? That's the part that let me know it was really a dream.
Starting off, there was me, the eyes and ears of this bizarre world. Along for the ride were the Most Awesome Person I Know, her Youngest, and some old guy who thought he was Indiana Jones. Really, I guess my subconscious picked some random old guy to put in Indiana Jones' trademark fedora. The guy even carried a whip. But it wasn't Indiana Jones. Just needed to clarify that.
So this small crew of people was hired to accompany a shipment to its destination. We were going by train. I'm not sure exactly what this precious cargo was, I just know that it was worth a lot of money and could cause a lot of damage if it fell into the wrong hands. So of course the powers that be would want to hire me to make sure it got to its destination safely. Me, an Indiana Jones wannabe, a mother of five, and her 3-year-old daughter. I think the 3-year-old girl was the secret weapon.
We're on this train, moving steadily along, when Indiana Jones and myself decide it's time to turn in for the night. The Most Awesome Person I Know and the 3-year-old decided that they should take the first watch. Just as I slip into my sleeping bag and close my eyes, and as Indiana Jones pulls his hat down over his eyes (just like Indiana Jones would do), some strange character sneaks into car we're sleeping in. I lie there and pretend to sleep while the bad guy has a conversation with Dr. Jones.
"Is this the train going to Japan?" My eyes popped open at that point. First, because I knew that this was the train going to Japan. Second, because I knew it would be impossible for us to take a train all the way to Japan. But Dr. Jones keeps the guy talking, all the while, the bad guy thinks I'm asleep and harmless behind him. Like a ninja, I jump up and wrap my arms around his neck, attempting to hold him with some kind of sleeper move. Not that I know what I'm doing in reality, but in the ensuing scuffle, he ended up getting knocked out. Job done.
But there was a problem. During the scuffle, I could hear him trying to yell to his son, who was apparently waiting just outside the train. Not sure where he was, maybe riding on the roof, maybe just behind the car. But he had to be somewhere. We tied up the bad guy though, holding him in a seperate car until we got to our next stop, where we would then turn him over to the authorities. Oh, and that seperate car? It was off to the side of the car in which we were holding the unknown valuable item. And when I say off to the side, I mean there was a 90 degree turn to get to it. Definitely not possible on a train.
We got to the next stop and turned the Bad Guy over to another strange character with a mechanical leg. But I knew he was okay, because he had a badge. And apparently I knew Mechanical Leg from a previous meeting, so the Bad Guy was in good hands. I also informed Mechanical Leg of the Bad Guy's son that may or may not still be somewhere on the train. So I let him and his deputies do a search, while my crew took a break while we were stopped.
We split up for a while, but it only seemed like a few seconds, and then the train took off without us. And I mean, it took off. We're talking zero to 150 in half a second. I don't remember it going that fast when we were on board, but that doesn't really matter at this point. The cargo is still on board and its protectors are nowhere near it. Indiana Jones disappeared all together. The Most Awesome Person I Know and her Youngest tried chasing the train down, but there was no way they could have caught it.
At that point it started to rain. It wasn't just a little rain. It was like a monsoon opened up on us. All the people at the train station scattered, trying desperately to take cover. Meanwhile, I got the idea that I could find a way to get us back on our train if I backtracked a bit. I started along the rail in the direction we had come from. Eventually I got to Cape Canaveral and witness a space shuttle returning to its platform. It was like watching a launch in reverse. And I knew that's not how it's supposed to happen. I knew that this was a disaster in the making. So I turned back around and started running again. I was running faster than any human being has a right to run.
I found myself in a familiar place. I knew I had been there before, but I just couldn't place it. I also knew that I didn't want to be there at this particular time. Not exactly a safe neighborhood. People kept looking at me, as if they knew I didn't belong there. I tried to run again, but I couldn't pick up any speed this time. It's like I was stuck.
And then I woke up...
Analyze that one. If you can.
Starting off, there was me, the eyes and ears of this bizarre world. Along for the ride were the Most Awesome Person I Know, her Youngest, and some old guy who thought he was Indiana Jones. Really, I guess my subconscious picked some random old guy to put in Indiana Jones' trademark fedora. The guy even carried a whip. But it wasn't Indiana Jones. Just needed to clarify that.
So this small crew of people was hired to accompany a shipment to its destination. We were going by train. I'm not sure exactly what this precious cargo was, I just know that it was worth a lot of money and could cause a lot of damage if it fell into the wrong hands. So of course the powers that be would want to hire me to make sure it got to its destination safely. Me, an Indiana Jones wannabe, a mother of five, and her 3-year-old daughter. I think the 3-year-old girl was the secret weapon.
We're on this train, moving steadily along, when Indiana Jones and myself decide it's time to turn in for the night. The Most Awesome Person I Know and the 3-year-old decided that they should take the first watch. Just as I slip into my sleeping bag and close my eyes, and as Indiana Jones pulls his hat down over his eyes (just like Indiana Jones would do), some strange character sneaks into car we're sleeping in. I lie there and pretend to sleep while the bad guy has a conversation with Dr. Jones.
"Is this the train going to Japan?" My eyes popped open at that point. First, because I knew that this was the train going to Japan. Second, because I knew it would be impossible for us to take a train all the way to Japan. But Dr. Jones keeps the guy talking, all the while, the bad guy thinks I'm asleep and harmless behind him. Like a ninja, I jump up and wrap my arms around his neck, attempting to hold him with some kind of sleeper move. Not that I know what I'm doing in reality, but in the ensuing scuffle, he ended up getting knocked out. Job done.
But there was a problem. During the scuffle, I could hear him trying to yell to his son, who was apparently waiting just outside the train. Not sure where he was, maybe riding on the roof, maybe just behind the car. But he had to be somewhere. We tied up the bad guy though, holding him in a seperate car until we got to our next stop, where we would then turn him over to the authorities. Oh, and that seperate car? It was off to the side of the car in which we were holding the unknown valuable item. And when I say off to the side, I mean there was a 90 degree turn to get to it. Definitely not possible on a train.
We got to the next stop and turned the Bad Guy over to another strange character with a mechanical leg. But I knew he was okay, because he had a badge. And apparently I knew Mechanical Leg from a previous meeting, so the Bad Guy was in good hands. I also informed Mechanical Leg of the Bad Guy's son that may or may not still be somewhere on the train. So I let him and his deputies do a search, while my crew took a break while we were stopped.
We split up for a while, but it only seemed like a few seconds, and then the train took off without us. And I mean, it took off. We're talking zero to 150 in half a second. I don't remember it going that fast when we were on board, but that doesn't really matter at this point. The cargo is still on board and its protectors are nowhere near it. Indiana Jones disappeared all together. The Most Awesome Person I Know and her Youngest tried chasing the train down, but there was no way they could have caught it.
At that point it started to rain. It wasn't just a little rain. It was like a monsoon opened up on us. All the people at the train station scattered, trying desperately to take cover. Meanwhile, I got the idea that I could find a way to get us back on our train if I backtracked a bit. I started along the rail in the direction we had come from. Eventually I got to Cape Canaveral and witness a space shuttle returning to its platform. It was like watching a launch in reverse. And I knew that's not how it's supposed to happen. I knew that this was a disaster in the making. So I turned back around and started running again. I was running faster than any human being has a right to run.
I found myself in a familiar place. I knew I had been there before, but I just couldn't place it. I also knew that I didn't want to be there at this particular time. Not exactly a safe neighborhood. People kept looking at me, as if they knew I didn't belong there. I tried to run again, but I couldn't pick up any speed this time. It's like I was stuck.
And then I woke up...
Analyze that one. If you can.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Weird Dreams
I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again. I have some weird dreams. I don't know why it happens, it just does. I've heard of people that take certain medications, such as anti-depressants or some other brain chemistry altering drugs, having strange dreams. And I've heard of pregnant women having bizarre dreams. But I'm not pregnant. And I'm not on any prescription medication of any kind. So the cause for the weirdness is beyond me.
I don't always remember my dreams. Sometimes I sleep through the night without my brain interrupting me. Having been a good psychology student in college, I am fully aware that we dream every time we go through that full sleep cycle. At least that's what they told me. Those quiet nights aren't quiet because I'm not dreaming. They're just quiet because I don't wake up on the edge of the dream, therefore it stays safely tucked inside my subconscious.
Every now and again, however, I'll have a stretch of nights where I remember dreams. And the dreams I remember are just abnormal. But I guess that's what makes a dream so much fun. While you're in the dream, the abnormal seems completely normal. If only I could get a handle on the whole lucid dreaming thing. That's where you realize you're in a dream, and then you are able to take control of the dream. There have been times when I've been dreaming and I've recognized that there's no way the world around me could be real. The problem for me is that I wake up. The images don't explode or break apart like in Inception, but the dream definitely dissolves into a hazy memory.
Last night's strangeness can be easily explained. I've been reading The Stand lately, so the fact that I was reading that book late into last night played heavily into how my dreams were influenced. Somehow I was a part of that world. I hadn't taken the place of any of the main characters, but I was accepted as part of the inner circle. It was helpful that I had read the book, so I had insights into the bad guys that the other good guys didn't have. And I knew about that Harold kid plotting behind Stu and Fran's backs, so we were able to nail him before he could attempt anything.
That dream must have occurred right on the edge of my waking up this morning. Because as I was rolling over to turn off my alarm, I was still internally rationalizing something I did or didn't do within the dream. Not sure what that action or inaction was, but it must have been a big one. The dream I had over the weekend is a little more disjointed. And with that one, it's a little more difficult to point out the influences. But I'm gonna save that one for another time. Sweet dreams, kids.
I don't always remember my dreams. Sometimes I sleep through the night without my brain interrupting me. Having been a good psychology student in college, I am fully aware that we dream every time we go through that full sleep cycle. At least that's what they told me. Those quiet nights aren't quiet because I'm not dreaming. They're just quiet because I don't wake up on the edge of the dream, therefore it stays safely tucked inside my subconscious.
Every now and again, however, I'll have a stretch of nights where I remember dreams. And the dreams I remember are just abnormal. But I guess that's what makes a dream so much fun. While you're in the dream, the abnormal seems completely normal. If only I could get a handle on the whole lucid dreaming thing. That's where you realize you're in a dream, and then you are able to take control of the dream. There have been times when I've been dreaming and I've recognized that there's no way the world around me could be real. The problem for me is that I wake up. The images don't explode or break apart like in Inception, but the dream definitely dissolves into a hazy memory.
Last night's strangeness can be easily explained. I've been reading The Stand lately, so the fact that I was reading that book late into last night played heavily into how my dreams were influenced. Somehow I was a part of that world. I hadn't taken the place of any of the main characters, but I was accepted as part of the inner circle. It was helpful that I had read the book, so I had insights into the bad guys that the other good guys didn't have. And I knew about that Harold kid plotting behind Stu and Fran's backs, so we were able to nail him before he could attempt anything.
That dream must have occurred right on the edge of my waking up this morning. Because as I was rolling over to turn off my alarm, I was still internally rationalizing something I did or didn't do within the dream. Not sure what that action or inaction was, but it must have been a big one. The dream I had over the weekend is a little more disjointed. And with that one, it's a little more difficult to point out the influences. But I'm gonna save that one for another time. Sweet dreams, kids.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
As You Wish
Before continuing with today's post, I must direct you to scroll down and view the comment under the posting titled Stumbling. Jen left a comment there suggesting that I should devote more blog space to her. Jen likes to see Jen's name in print, right? Then Jen, this one's for you, Jen. I give you a Mad Lib found at this website based on Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid. I thought that would be appropriate since Jen and I burst into a medley of Disney songs whilst doing dishes at Christmastime. But this is no regular Mad Lib. Instead of choosing random nouns, adjectives, and verbs, I have replaced the missing parts of speech with Jen's name. This how Phoebe from Friends plays Mad Libs. Without further ado, I give you Part of Your World: The Jen Version.
Look at this Jen, isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the Jen
The Jen who has everything?
Look at this Jen, treasures untold
How many wonders can one Jen hold?
Jenning around here you'd think
Sure, she's got everything
I've got Jens and Jens a-plenty
I've got who's-its and what's-its galore
You Jen thing-a-mabobs?
I've got Jenteen
But who cares? No Jen deal. I Jen more.
I wanna be where the Jens are
I wanna see, wanna see 'em Jenning
Walkin' around on those
Whaddya call 'em? Oh, feet
Jenning your fins, you don't get too far
Legs are required for Jenning, dancin'
Strollin' along down the
What's that word again? Jen
Up where Jens Jen
Up where Jens run
Up where Jens stay all day in the sun
Wanderin' free, wish I could be
Part of that Jen
What would I give if I could live
Outta these Jens?
What would I pay to spend a day
Warm on the sand?
Betcha on Jen they understand
Bet they don't reprimand their Jens
Bright young women, sick of Jenning
Ready to stand
And ready to know what the Jen know
Ask 'em Jen questions and get some answers
What's a Jen and why does it
What's the word? Jen
When's it my turn?
Wouldn't I Jen?
Jen to explore that Jen up above
Out of the Jen, wish Jen could be
Jen of that Jen
We hope you've enjoyed this presentation of Mad Jens. Or should it be Jen Libs. And coming in July, to coincide with my trip to Los Angeles, more posts that will be all about Jen. By my count, that's forty-eight mentions of your name Jen. Forty-nine. Are you happy Jen?
Had to make it an even fifty.
Look at this Jen, isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the Jen
The Jen who has everything?
Look at this Jen, treasures untold
How many wonders can one Jen hold?
Jenning around here you'd think
Sure, she's got everything
I've got Jens and Jens a-plenty
I've got who's-its and what's-its galore
You Jen thing-a-mabobs?
I've got Jenteen
But who cares? No Jen deal. I Jen more.
I wanna be where the Jens are
I wanna see, wanna see 'em Jenning
Walkin' around on those
Whaddya call 'em? Oh, feet
Jenning your fins, you don't get too far
Legs are required for Jenning, dancin'
Strollin' along down the
What's that word again? Jen
Up where Jens Jen
Up where Jens run
Up where Jens stay all day in the sun
Wanderin' free, wish I could be
Part of that Jen
What would I give if I could live
Outta these Jens?
What would I pay to spend a day
Warm on the sand?
Betcha on Jen they understand
Bet they don't reprimand their Jens
Bright young women, sick of Jenning
Ready to stand
And ready to know what the Jen know
Ask 'em Jen questions and get some answers
What's a Jen and why does it
What's the word? Jen
When's it my turn?
Wouldn't I Jen?
Jen to explore that Jen up above
Out of the Jen, wish Jen could be
Jen of that Jen
We hope you've enjoyed this presentation of Mad Jens. Or should it be Jen Libs. And coming in July, to coincide with my trip to Los Angeles, more posts that will be all about Jen. By my count, that's forty-eight mentions of your name Jen. Forty-nine. Are you happy Jen?
Had to make it an even fifty.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Escape
I can't sleep. This is due to a combination of taking advantage of my day off and sleeping until 10am and too much caffeine this evening. But technically, it's my next day, and since the internet is working, I'm posting a new blog.
As I said before, I'm in Charlotte visiting Andy and Chrissy. Andy pulled me along last night to a junior high home group Bible study that he's a part of. Before the festivities began, we were all outside gathering around a basketball goal. I leaned against Andy's car and just watched while he and some of the kids played a quick game.
As I stood there, something odd happened. One of the 7th grade girls decided to come stand next to me. Now, Andy has a Ford Escape. It's not a small vehicle. There was plenty of room for both of us to stand there and enjoy the amateur basketball game. But she was so close that she was touching me.
I'm not gonna lie. It weirded me out a lot.
Keep in mind that I did not invite this incident to happen. I was just standing there. I don't think I could have been more shut-down if I had tried. Arms crossed, not speaking... and yet. Andy looked over after passing the ball to one of the kids. He looked confused. I really hope I conveyed the same confusion right back.
As I said before, I'm in Charlotte visiting Andy and Chrissy. Andy pulled me along last night to a junior high home group Bible study that he's a part of. Before the festivities began, we were all outside gathering around a basketball goal. I leaned against Andy's car and just watched while he and some of the kids played a quick game.
As I stood there, something odd happened. One of the 7th grade girls decided to come stand next to me. Now, Andy has a Ford Escape. It's not a small vehicle. There was plenty of room for both of us to stand there and enjoy the amateur basketball game. But she was so close that she was touching me.
I'm not gonna lie. It weirded me out a lot.
Keep in mind that I did not invite this incident to happen. I was just standing there. I don't think I could have been more shut-down if I had tried. Arms crossed, not speaking... and yet. Andy looked over after passing the ball to one of the kids. He looked confused. I really hope I conveyed the same confusion right back.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
My Die Hard 2 Thoughts
Last night I had a fit of insomnia, so I began watching the original Die Hard trilogy. I made it about halfway through Die Hard 2 before sleep finally took me. But I was awake long enough to be disturbed by one small thing.
At one point in the movie, the naked colonel who has taken over Dulles International Airport warns the control tower not to attempt to regain control. He told them the consequences would be dire. Well, of course the tower attempted to regain control. Their attempt was unsuccessful. Thus, they had to be punished. In order to exercise his power, the naked colonel decided to crash a plane. He disguised himself as an air traffic controller and brought a 747 in for a landing, but changed the computer readout to make them think they were 200 feet higher than they really were. This meant they would hit the ground before they were ready for it. This meant they would crash. Of course, this is what happened, the plane exploded in a fine display of pyrotechnic special effects, and there were no survivors.
What bothers me is that the pilot of that plane mentioned they had been circling Dulles and running on "petrol fumes." So, when the plane crashed, would it really have become a spectacular fireball on the runway? I could see this happening if it were fully fueled for another trip across the pond. But they were nearly out of fuel. I figure you should have some pretty serious wreckage and plenty of survivors, not a horrible fiery death for all aboard.
I think that plane's demise was preordained. I think that the black box would've confirmed that there was some sort of incindiary device aboard that airplane. I just they were able to recover that black box.
At one point in the movie, the naked colonel who has taken over Dulles International Airport warns the control tower not to attempt to regain control. He told them the consequences would be dire. Well, of course the tower attempted to regain control. Their attempt was unsuccessful. Thus, they had to be punished. In order to exercise his power, the naked colonel decided to crash a plane. He disguised himself as an air traffic controller and brought a 747 in for a landing, but changed the computer readout to make them think they were 200 feet higher than they really were. This meant they would hit the ground before they were ready for it. This meant they would crash. Of course, this is what happened, the plane exploded in a fine display of pyrotechnic special effects, and there were no survivors.
What bothers me is that the pilot of that plane mentioned they had been circling Dulles and running on "petrol fumes." So, when the plane crashed, would it really have become a spectacular fireball on the runway? I could see this happening if it were fully fueled for another trip across the pond. But they were nearly out of fuel. I figure you should have some pretty serious wreckage and plenty of survivors, not a horrible fiery death for all aboard.
I think that plane's demise was preordained. I think that the black box would've confirmed that there was some sort of incindiary device aboard that airplane. I just they were able to recover that black box.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Karate Kid
When I was at the mall last week picking up my tux, I ran into a karate instructor. He wasn’t trying to sign me up for classes, ‘cause he could tell I was a fatty and wouldn’t be into that kind of thing. Instead he asked me to take a short survey. I figured, why not?
Question 1: If you were to take a martial arts class, what would be your motivation: self-defense or fitness?
Really? Those are my only options? What if I just wanna beat people up?
Question 2: Would you recommend martial arts classes as a way to keep in shape for adults?
Honestly, no, but I said yes anyway. The tux was starting to get heavy.
Question 3: Do you know anyone in the area that may be interested in taking a martial arts class?
I don’t know… Do you offer the crane technique? According to Mr. Miyagi, if done correctly, no can defense. If so, sign me up.
Question 1: If you were to take a martial arts class, what would be your motivation: self-defense or fitness?
Really? Those are my only options? What if I just wanna beat people up?
Question 2: Would you recommend martial arts classes as a way to keep in shape for adults?
Honestly, no, but I said yes anyway. The tux was starting to get heavy.
Question 3: Do you know anyone in the area that may be interested in taking a martial arts class?
I don’t know… Do you offer the crane technique? According to Mr. Miyagi, if done correctly, no can defense. If so, sign me up.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
The Fish Pen
Tonight I was watching some late night television. I happened to catch "I Shouldn't Be Alive" on the Discovery Channel. The story was that of a father and son who went on a rafting trip in the Alaskan wilderness and got stranded and seriously injured. That's not the funny part of the story. In fact, that part was kind of tragic. I mean, they both survived, hence the title "I Shouldn't Be Alive."
The funny part happened immediately after the show ended. A commercial came on that just seemed inappropriate after that story. A commercial for the Fish Pen. The opening shot is that of a young father and son hiking along a river with their fishing rods. Just seemed odd to me.
Have you heard of this Fish Pen thing? It looks like an ordinary pen. It has a cap and is small enough to fit in your pocket. But take the cap off, and sure enough, no pen. It's got a telescoping fishing pole tucked away inside. Now, you can carry the rod with you anywhere you go, but if you want to throw on a line, you have to attach the reel. A reel that seems to large to fit in your jacket pocket alongside this "pen."
And let's talk about the name "Fish Pen." Isn't the defining characteristic of a pen the fact that you can write with it? Yet this Fish Pen is nothing of the kind. No ink. Ergo, no writing. I'm a little disappointed in that ad agency. Come on guys, this is late night television. You need to step up your game.
The funny part happened immediately after the show ended. A commercial came on that just seemed inappropriate after that story. A commercial for the Fish Pen. The opening shot is that of a young father and son hiking along a river with their fishing rods. Just seemed odd to me.
Have you heard of this Fish Pen thing? It looks like an ordinary pen. It has a cap and is small enough to fit in your pocket. But take the cap off, and sure enough, no pen. It's got a telescoping fishing pole tucked away inside. Now, you can carry the rod with you anywhere you go, but if you want to throw on a line, you have to attach the reel. A reel that seems to large to fit in your jacket pocket alongside this "pen."
And let's talk about the name "Fish Pen." Isn't the defining characteristic of a pen the fact that you can write with it? Yet this Fish Pen is nothing of the kind. No ink. Ergo, no writing. I'm a little disappointed in that ad agency. Come on guys, this is late night television. You need to step up your game.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Moving Day
Today was the day that I moved out of my mother's house. Again.
I moved out once before. I was in college and decided I'd stop going "home" for anything but holidays when I was forced to leave Bluefield for no good reason. Except that it was the holidays.
And now, I've been living at mom's for the last seven months. Today I loaded up the truck.
The day began slightly before sunrise. Well, maybe not. I got up at 6:30. Why? Because the maternal unit wanted to have a yard sale to coincide with my departure. So I got up early to help carry things into the back yard from the basement. This was a whole four hours before I was even scheduled to pick up my moving truck.
Early day. Lots of work. 11am rolls around and I get the truck. Well, I let Mark drive the truck, 'cause I'm not good with the large vehicles. Then we loaded up with junk from storage. It was a hot time, let me tell ya.
A couple hours of that and we headed over to Mom's place. A few more hours of loading boxes and furniture and the deed was done.
You know, moving out of a place is a job of work. And it's only half done. Tomorrow comes the unloading in a new place. Awesome.
I moved out once before. I was in college and decided I'd stop going "home" for anything but holidays when I was forced to leave Bluefield for no good reason. Except that it was the holidays.
And now, I've been living at mom's for the last seven months. Today I loaded up the truck.
The day began slightly before sunrise. Well, maybe not. I got up at 6:30. Why? Because the maternal unit wanted to have a yard sale to coincide with my departure. So I got up early to help carry things into the back yard from the basement. This was a whole four hours before I was even scheduled to pick up my moving truck.
Early day. Lots of work. 11am rolls around and I get the truck. Well, I let Mark drive the truck, 'cause I'm not good with the large vehicles. Then we loaded up with junk from storage. It was a hot time, let me tell ya.
A couple hours of that and we headed over to Mom's place. A few more hours of loading boxes and furniture and the deed was done.
You know, moving out of a place is a job of work. And it's only half done. Tomorrow comes the unloading in a new place. Awesome.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Midnight with Buffy
Tonight I spent part of my night with an old friend. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And also Jessica, whom I've known for 21 years. That's right, our friendship is old enough to buy alcohol.Jessica called me up this afternoon with the news that the Grandin Theater was having a midnight show of the musical episode of Buffy. Automatically this leads to awesome in my mind.
We arrived at the theater and found that there are quite a few hardcore Buffy fans willing to show up at midnight for a Slaying Sing Along.
The night began with a quick trivia contest. I got to answer one of the questions. And when I got the right answer (as if there was any doubt), I was led to believe I would receive some important Buffy memorabilia. Instead, I received a box. I opened the box and was greatly disappointed to find a Relay For Life coffee mug. I feel I should explain that tonight's proceeds went to benefit the American Cancer Society. Now, I have the greatest respect for Relay For Life and those involved with it. But I don't drink coffee. And if you were expecting something Buffy related and received something non-Buffy related, you'd be disappointed too. Well, you would be if you were me.
Then the show began. "Once More With Feeling" is the title of the Buffy musical. The good people of the Grandin Theater showed the episode with captions, so we could, in fact, sing along. Good times. We were also given a number of objects that would make for a more exciting movie going experience. Along with a list of when and where to use the items. For example, a small monster finger puppet for a certain song; a small bottle of bubbles for a certain dance; etc. This is what I picture cult showings of Rocky Horror Picture Show being like.
I'll admit, I didn't participate in much of the audience participation. But I had fun. Usually, if I want to watch an old episode of Buffy, I have to put in a DVD and watch it alone. Kind of sad. But tonight, I found that there are several people in town with a common bond.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Trip to Nashville, Book 5: Central Time
As you drive through the great state of Tennessee, an amazing phenomenon occurs. Somewhere between Knoxville and Nashville on I-40, you slip an hour back in time. One second it's 4:34pm, the next, it's 3:34pm. Isn't that cool? No flux capacitor required. Just a simple trip over an imaginary line drawn on a map of the United States.
The drawback is that if you drive back east, you go back to the future. Or the present. One hour that was gained is lost once more.
But I'm really beginning to grasp the concept of Central Time. When I was a kid, I hated it. I thought it was strange. The news doesn't come on at 6 o'clock here. It comes on at 5. That's weird. The 11 o'clock news doesn't come on at 11. It comes on at 10. What's up with that? And your primetime programs? An hour earlier on the schedule.
From a television standpoint there's no difference. They're shown at the same time here as they are there. It's just that when Lost comes on at 10 on the east coast, it comes on at 9 (simultaneously) in the Central Zone. Not that I really need to explain this, it's fairly simple to grasp.
But as an adult, I'm seeing the pros to this time zone. See, I love watching things like Lost, which comes on at 10 back home. But here it would come on at 9. I tell ya, at this age, it's getting harder to stay up 'til 11 just to watch a TV show. Staying up 'til 10 would be so much easier.
Look out Central Time Zone. When I get out of seminary, I may be looking to come back to the past on a more permanant basis.
The drawback is that if you drive back east, you go back to the future. Or the present. One hour that was gained is lost once more.
But I'm really beginning to grasp the concept of Central Time. When I was a kid, I hated it. I thought it was strange. The news doesn't come on at 6 o'clock here. It comes on at 5. That's weird. The 11 o'clock news doesn't come on at 11. It comes on at 10. What's up with that? And your primetime programs? An hour earlier on the schedule.
From a television standpoint there's no difference. They're shown at the same time here as they are there. It's just that when Lost comes on at 10 on the east coast, it comes on at 9 (simultaneously) in the Central Zone. Not that I really need to explain this, it's fairly simple to grasp.
But as an adult, I'm seeing the pros to this time zone. See, I love watching things like Lost, which comes on at 10 back home. But here it would come on at 9. I tell ya, at this age, it's getting harder to stay up 'til 11 just to watch a TV show. Staying up 'til 10 would be so much easier.
Look out Central Time Zone. When I get out of seminary, I may be looking to come back to the past on a more permanant basis.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Awake in the Darkness
Tonight is one of those nights. It's midnight and I just can't sleep. I've been trying to fall asleep for the last couple hours, but I just can't. And really, isn't that a contradiction? Trying to fall asleep? I guess that's impossible. If you're gonna fall asleep, you just do it. There is no try (thank you Yoda).
I am obviously not sleeping at this moment. So I'm left to fill the time with the meaningless ramblings of an insomniac.
For awhile I was watching National Treasure on DVD. Good movie. I liked it so much that I saw it twice when it was in the theater. However, I did fall asleep the second time I watched it. Not because I was bored with it. I was just that tired. Maybe I chose to watch that movie hoping I would get those old feelings, but alas, I'm still awake. The movie ended, so I restarted it. Still awake.
Now the TV is off. I set the "sleep" timer on it, hoping against hope that I would be asleep by now. But it's off and I'm not yet asleep.
For awhile I just laid here in bed listening to the sound of the fan on my desk. A nice, soothing, white noise kind of sound. And the thoughts began to flow. And for some reason I began thinking about Dad.
I've done that a lot lately. Last Thursday morning I got to work and was waiting around for the day's assigned duties. I started thinking about him then. Somehow it became so overwhelming that I nearly broke into tears. I didn't though. Manhood intact.
So tonight, as I lay awake in the dark, my mind wandered back to Dad yet again. Really there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him at some point. But sometimes, like now, the thoughts go deeper than just a passing remembrance. The thoughts turn into another realization of just how much I miss him. Another realization of just how much my heart aches.
I want so badly to talk to him about movies I've seen lately. About how frustrating my favorite TV shows are when I'm left with cliffhangers at season's end. About how scared and excited I am to start fresh with seminary in the fall. About how much I appreciated him always being there for me. About how sorry I am for not always showing it.
So now what do I do? Do I try, again, to go to sleep? My brain, flooded with thoughts and feelings and memories? I'm not really expecting an answer to this. I know I'll get sleep eventually. It's inevitable. My body will become so tired that I won't have a choice in the matter. But what do I do 'til then?
I am obviously not sleeping at this moment. So I'm left to fill the time with the meaningless ramblings of an insomniac.
For awhile I was watching National Treasure on DVD. Good movie. I liked it so much that I saw it twice when it was in the theater. However, I did fall asleep the second time I watched it. Not because I was bored with it. I was just that tired. Maybe I chose to watch that movie hoping I would get those old feelings, but alas, I'm still awake. The movie ended, so I restarted it. Still awake.
Now the TV is off. I set the "sleep" timer on it, hoping against hope that I would be asleep by now. But it's off and I'm not yet asleep.
For awhile I just laid here in bed listening to the sound of the fan on my desk. A nice, soothing, white noise kind of sound. And the thoughts began to flow. And for some reason I began thinking about Dad.
I've done that a lot lately. Last Thursday morning I got to work and was waiting around for the day's assigned duties. I started thinking about him then. Somehow it became so overwhelming that I nearly broke into tears. I didn't though. Manhood intact.
So tonight, as I lay awake in the dark, my mind wandered back to Dad yet again. Really there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him at some point. But sometimes, like now, the thoughts go deeper than just a passing remembrance. The thoughts turn into another realization of just how much I miss him. Another realization of just how much my heart aches.
I want so badly to talk to him about movies I've seen lately. About how frustrating my favorite TV shows are when I'm left with cliffhangers at season's end. About how scared and excited I am to start fresh with seminary in the fall. About how much I appreciated him always being there for me. About how sorry I am for not always showing it.
So now what do I do? Do I try, again, to go to sleep? My brain, flooded with thoughts and feelings and memories? I'm not really expecting an answer to this. I know I'll get sleep eventually. It's inevitable. My body will become so tired that I won't have a choice in the matter. But what do I do 'til then?
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Waxing Nostalgic
Do you ever wish you could go back and do it all over again? It really doesn't matter when or what. Is there a point in your life that you would like to go back to, having the knowledge that you have today, and do something different?
I asked myself this question today as I drove by my high school. I graduated back in '98 and I haven't looked back. I hated high school. I was nobody in high school. I had no identity. I was an average student who didn't play sports and had very few friends. I suppose more people thought of me than I know, but for the most part, I was unpopular among the "in-crowd."
I take some of that back. I didn't hate high school. I just loved college so much more that looking back high school seemed miserable. But as I drove by Patrick Henry High and saw the construction of the new super high school building I was reminded of days gone by. Simpler times when my 11th grade decades project seemed like it would end me. I found myself being flooded by memories, good and bad.
So what would I do differently? For starters I'd have tried a lot harder in my classes. At some point in high school I realized that I could pass with C's without trying. Maybe if I'd have put forth some kind of effort I'd have gotten A's.
Next, I would definitely have a lot more confidence in a lot of areas of my life. College showed me who I am as a person. I found my identity. I didn't peak in high school like a lot of people tend to do. No, I never became an athlete or a super-genius. But I became comfortable with who I am. I'd like to be the person I am now, but back as a freshman in high school. That would invariably lead to differences in the way I handle myself and the people around me.
Third, would I ask out that girl? You know the one I'm talking about. The one that gets placed up on the pedestal. The one that movies immortalize as the girl that the geeky guy had a crush on for 4 years but never developed the nerve to do anything about it. I definitely had one of those. I haven't seen her since graduation, but every now and then I wonder where her life has led her today. Maybe I'll come back to her sometime. I think she may deserve her own entry.
I never answered my last question. Would I ask her out? Probably not. Look at the title of my blog. "The Single Guy." I mean, here I am 7 years after high school and still single. This means that even the person I am now would not have the guts to ask out the crush girl from the 9th through 12th grades.
The point of all of this is to say that yes, I would do things differently. For the most part. But honestly who wants to go through all of that again? Growing up was hard enough the first time. Who wants to learn those lessons all over again. I know I certainly don't want to take driver's ed. again. However, I could avoid that accident I had junior year. Yeah, stuff like that would be nice.
I asked myself this question today as I drove by my high school. I graduated back in '98 and I haven't looked back. I hated high school. I was nobody in high school. I had no identity. I was an average student who didn't play sports and had very few friends. I suppose more people thought of me than I know, but for the most part, I was unpopular among the "in-crowd."
I take some of that back. I didn't hate high school. I just loved college so much more that looking back high school seemed miserable. But as I drove by Patrick Henry High and saw the construction of the new super high school building I was reminded of days gone by. Simpler times when my 11th grade decades project seemed like it would end me. I found myself being flooded by memories, good and bad.
So what would I do differently? For starters I'd have tried a lot harder in my classes. At some point in high school I realized that I could pass with C's without trying. Maybe if I'd have put forth some kind of effort I'd have gotten A's.
Next, I would definitely have a lot more confidence in a lot of areas of my life. College showed me who I am as a person. I found my identity. I didn't peak in high school like a lot of people tend to do. No, I never became an athlete or a super-genius. But I became comfortable with who I am. I'd like to be the person I am now, but back as a freshman in high school. That would invariably lead to differences in the way I handle myself and the people around me.
Third, would I ask out that girl? You know the one I'm talking about. The one that gets placed up on the pedestal. The one that movies immortalize as the girl that the geeky guy had a crush on for 4 years but never developed the nerve to do anything about it. I definitely had one of those. I haven't seen her since graduation, but every now and then I wonder where her life has led her today. Maybe I'll come back to her sometime. I think she may deserve her own entry.
I never answered my last question. Would I ask her out? Probably not. Look at the title of my blog. "The Single Guy." I mean, here I am 7 years after high school and still single. This means that even the person I am now would not have the guts to ask out the crush girl from the 9th through 12th grades.
The point of all of this is to say that yes, I would do things differently. For the most part. But honestly who wants to go through all of that again? Growing up was hard enough the first time. Who wants to learn those lessons all over again. I know I certainly don't want to take driver's ed. again. However, I could avoid that accident I had junior year. Yeah, stuff like that would be nice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)