Monkey Business

Today I had class student congress.

Today was fun.

A lot of times I find myself laughing incredibly hard at something no one else is laughing at. Me and my brother are very much the same in this way.

So this is how it happened, today.

I walked into class. Everyone rearranged their desks to accommodate for student congress debates. When we all got barely situated, one very odd kid, sitting 3 chairs to my left, who I will call Senator Condor, did something.

Remember, what he is about to do made me nearly sprinkle. Yes, sprinkle.

He announced to the entire class, "Is this anyone's banana?" as he pulled an old, brown+black banana off the ground from under his desk.

haha. Clearly that banana had been there for a while. Clearly the banana had no owner in the room. I lost it. It was such a funny situation. And if you could see Senator Condor, with his red hair, rectangular glasses, and nasally voice, you would laugh with me.

When his question was answered with nothing but silence (and my hysterical laughter(spurting-I was trying to contain it)) he proceeded to open the banana, and eat it. He assured us all that most people "waste them. Even though they're bad looking on the outside the inside is delicious."

As he placed the brown, bruised banana in his mouth, I though about how wonderful it might be to be socially awkward to the point of total ignorance of your awkwardness. I am fully aware that at times I'm can be awkward. We all can.

But then I thought, if I was unaware of my social awkwardness, then I wouldn't be able to enjoy these golden nuggets of inspirational awkwardness.

Don't be afraid to laugh at what other people say. It's fine. Just let them know you love them, and that what they said just made your day.

Most importantly, don't be afraid to laugh at yourself.

Quidditch is draining my funds. But hey, I've still got the job, and a pay check arrives 1 week from Friday. Hope I can make it.

SleepTalk

You know you're happy when the weather provides for you.

The above is a great example of a poorly written sentence.

The above sentence is a great example of a cover up for an unintentionally poorly written sentence.

The above sentence is a great example of obsessive denial.

I'm just totally speaking complete crap style.

I love working. One, I get money. Two, it helps me manage my time. Three, I work with weird people. Four, I see so many stereotypical science majors it blows my mind-every time.

Five, I'm all alone.

But why alone? Alone sucks? No. Alone is fun because I can sing at the top of my lungs (almost) in empty laboratories for hours.

I usually sing John Mayer. He's right in my range. Thank you John, for helping me get through the sweep sweep trash trash mop mop lock lock lock lock.

I purchased equipment for the Quidditch hoops today. Should be fun. It's really starting to come together. Come and watch. It's bound to be magical.

My roomate just told me he drooled. Funny kid trevor is. Talks in a sleepy state a lot. For example, just the other week, I made a noise while Trevor was barely asleep, and he sat up a little and asked if I made it past the first page. I promptly told him he was asleep. He insisted on asking again:

"Well did you make it past the first page?"

"Hey Trevor you're asleep buddy."

When he talks in his sleep, I send him texts in the middle of the night so he wakes up and knows what he said-because if there's anything I hate more than playing monopoly with cheaters, it's forgetting a dream after I have it. And I guess I'd like to know when I sleep talk too.

A week after the Trevor incident, while he was away for a family vacation, Mikey slept in Trevor's bed. Well it was more of we were watching a movie and he fell asleep.

"Mikey, you have to go to bed bro."

(yeah I said bro fight me)

Mikey sits up.

"Wait...I can't find my marker."

"Mikey what are you talking about?"

"I can't find my marker man."

"He Mikey, you're completely asleep."

Mikey exits sighing:

"Dude that's not cool man."

Ten minutes later, Mikey wrote on my facebook: "yeah i don't know what the eff i was talking about haha, i was most definitely asleep."

And That was Tuesday, My Dear.

Spring Break

I've been gone for a time. Nowhere in particular. Just here and there. My emotions, however, sat out the sojourn.

And that is why I missed 8 days of blogging. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.

If you've ever had a _________________ type of week, then you know how I feel. That's a flat line. My week had no heartbeat. The soul of the week was lost in-a tangled mess of seaweed and urchins flourishing all over the sunken hull of my now dormant boat-only a week.

And just like that, happy saturday, and lazy, wonderfully lazy sunday, picked me up. What a wonderful lift.

While I was away I learned about tons of thing I am grateful for. I wrote them down. Someday I'm going to go back a look at them. On that day I will be twice as thankful for those things I realized I am so thankful for today.

I also made a wonderful new friend. Her name is Kathryn. Kathryn makes me feel like a kid, which I've found I need for of. She makes me smile. She is small. The right size. Small enough to crawl right into my heart. Thank you Kathryn.

I have an announcement. I invented a new genre of foot Quidditch, aka muggle Quidditch. I am hosting a massive event, the first of it's kind at this University. So far, nearly 120 people have rsvp'd as attending. That means likely turnout is around 80 persons. We are about to rock the muggle world.

Quidditch, oddly enough, is a sport that takes a large amount of coordination.

What also takes a large amount of coordination, you ask? The Answer: Festival of Colors.

Celebrating a Hindu holiday by throwing hundreds of pounds of colorful chalk dust in the air was an amazing experience. And it just makes sense, no? The human specimen is a beautiful canvas-we have not the power to make it, only to mold it.

My scalp is pink, and has remained pink for a while. The chalk stains.

I can't wait for next year.

Oh, and it's good to be back. (smiley face, hug).

Ride Fast, Young Stallion

I wish I dreamed more often.

I dream when I'm awake, yes; but rarely do I dream while asleep.

At the beginning of the week, I had a dream that I was fighting a skeleton-female who was made completely out of bone, but who had the appearance of rotting flesh.

Naturally, I had to fight and kill this skeleton with whatever weapon I had on hand. Swinging a hammer like a madman, I fought until it was time for dinner. When dinner came, my dream moved into a house where my family was in the kitchen getting ready to eat.

Of course, skeleton-lady was invited to dinner (WHY) and we all sat and ate happily, my family unaware that our mostly dead guest was just minutes earlier trying to kill me.

So, the real question is, why hadn't I offed her before dinner? The answer: bone is stronger than hammer. Of course, that's not how it works in real life, but apparently that was how it was going to work in my dreams.

At dinner, I found a giant sword (in my hand) that happened to be studded with diamonds (Thankthelord). I quickly got up from the table and moved toward the front door. I knew that even though I had not finished, and neither had my skeleton-lady, (though I can't remember if she was even eating; wait no, I think she was lurking, just kind of hanging out) if I moved outside, she would follow.

I made it to the front lawn, quickly turned to see her bounding out of the front door, and then!

Yep. Sucks how dreams just end right where you least e.

Also sucks how sentences just seem to

f

a

l

l

o

fAt work today, I used the stallions. They suck up water out of fcarpets we clean. They should be called dead camels; you have to drag them across the floor manually. They have no wheels. They are not light. They hold water.

t

hI hope that on this wonderful thursday night I can fall asleep and edream of real horses, riding swiftly through a prairy of tall grass and sunflowers.

pMaybe there I will meet you, and you can help me finish my duel awith skeleton-lady.

g

e

.

Wednesday

Today was Tuesday's baby.

I woke up wednesday morning with a sore throat, a cough, and a running nose. I am now falling asleep with all the same. P.S. I went to the bathroom three times in the middle of the night.

Today I made it to work (on time). When I got there I found out I was on 3rd and 4th crew. This was cool cause I like sweeping and mopping and changing garbage cans, it's like they knew exactly like what I like wanted like and they like cared like what about like what I really wanted to do omg.

When I.

When I s.

When I st.

When I sta.

When I star.

When I start.

When I starte.

When I started cleaning on the fourth floor I was happy to discover myself doing the left side labs Yay my fave omg.

First lab I approach- "Warning, Lasers in use, do not enter without protection."

Okay phew I'm wearing my lucky rubber glove I just got out of that closet back there. Okay phew the giant red light above the door isn't flashing, which means lasers aren't in use. My eyes are happy.

Second lab- "DO NOT TURN ON THE LIGHTS. LIGHT REACTIVE COMPOSITIONS INSIDE."

Okay phew it's easier to clean up stuff in the pitch black with my laser eyes.

For the next 20 minutes I swept, de-trashed, and mopped my way through three labs with the "no lights" policy. In complete darkness I cleaned.

This darkness is the type of complete darkness that scares you. I could not see the hand in front of my face. How the. What. You. I. Enough has been said.

I run in to a lot of extremely socially awkward people on the job. Also a large portion of foreigners. Also a lot of large machinery and warnings that my face is going to burn if I touch this, or even that ('these janitors are so dumb stewey, we should totally put up signs for these dumb janitors, meh').

Imagine...a giant prison...full of traps...and the lights are sometimes off...and it's dirty, unless you clean it...and conversation is less than hahafable...and yeah that guy-I'm pretty sure he has showered, but it's still kind of up in the air.

Wo. You were just in...my shoes...

Today was Thursday's daddy.

Five More Hours

The weather today was beautiful. We all called it the first day of spring.

Starting at 2:30, I went outside.

At 3:00, there was a mass exodus to the lawn. It seemed like everyone in the dorms was out in the quad, laying in the grass, the sun. Other played volleyball, croquet, football...

But where I live. But where I. But Where. I. Disc.

I live to frisbee. I toss, I catch, I run, I laugh, and all with my friends. So it only made sense that I was outside throwing the frisbee for five hours (with a forty minute dinner break).

When outside, I saw a lot of interesting things. I saw TOOLS playing croquet. Now you might ask, where's the problem there? I'll tell you the freaking problem. The problem was threefold:

1) They were playing with their shirts off.

2) They were playing in short shorts.

3) They were cromatators. They swung golf-style. You're supposed to swing between the

legs. They didn't practice proper ball-contact etiquette.

sub3) For those of us who know croquet, we know that upon contacting another's ball,

you are granted an extra hit OR you may choose to LUANCH your opponents ball

using proper foot-arch-ball stance. Tools are for tool sheds, not colleges.

Remember back in fourth grade, playing night games with the neighborhood kids, and your mom would call you in for bed? What did you do?

You asked for five more minutes.

Hi. You're at college.

Ask for five more hours.

"I am the Zamboni."

Today was a beautiful day.

I saw some beautiful people. I heard some beautiful things.

And as of today, poor man is worth man than he was yesterday. That's right. I have a job. I MAKE $7.79 AN HOUR AND I AM LIVING LARGE.

For three hours I cleaned floors. But before I got the floor machine, I had to get the keys; not just any keys; the magic keys; the magic keys that can unlock even the most improper semicolon usage; and the chamber of secrets;

It was less magic keys and more magic chain. This two foot long golden chain hangs low from my belt loop, swinging below my knees at full extension. And oh how it shines. Gold, bling bling, gold, ladies.

And when I insert the key into my back pocket, and that chain hangs cooly from front to back...oh how cooly. I have never been so suburban punk. I'm making mother proud.

"Hey, what's your son do?"

"Which one?"

"The little one that looks like you, but a male."

"Oh, him? He's a janitor."

Let it be known, let it be written, "I am the Zamboni."

If you walk around the Benson and see your reflection staring back at you from the flawless ground, you have me to thank.

I am shaking what my mother gave me. (metaphor).

(not even sure there's a metaphor there).

My Zamboni is popin,

My Zamboni is cool,

All the girlies stoppin,

The chasin' me after school.

No Money? Don't sit there. Get it done.

Turn your speed from symbol of a turtle to symbol of a rabbit.

Now, MAN, grab your life by the squeegee lever.

What's that?!

No, your mother is gone.

Pull in your gut. Tighten those buns. Let me hear you roar.

Now stand on your own two feet, and scream it with me.

"I am the Zamboni."

Only The Sweetest Silence

I was sick.

I've found that being sick means a lot of coughing, a lot of water, a lot of emptying, a lot of sleeping, a lot of haze, and just a lot of noise.

I love that people care about others.

My friends Sam came to my room today just to check up on me. I think I'm still smiling. Thanks Sam :7

With a grand total of 6 Nyquil, 6 Dayquil, and countless hours of sleep, I finally feel peace. I've still got the nose and the cough, but there's peace.

And just in time for my roommate to come home. He's been gone all weekend, conveniently enough, and I've since detoxed our room.

Now I can enjoy what I've been missing all weekend. Music. Warm music that makes me boil over till I can't help but sing along. How warm.

Not any music can do it; only the best, according to MY ear, and no one else's. It takes some time to find it, but when I do...

Warm.

I've found one thing alone to be warmer than the soothing embrace of a beautiful song.

Lay outside at night when all the stars are bright, the air is light and cool, and the grass is tall and dry. Lay out in the front yard, under the big oak tree as the cars pass lazily by. Sit still by the lake, and watch rocks skip endlessly away across the glassy water while the last sliver of light dips below into the endless black.

I've gone many places. I've heard many things.

I'm afraid I'm yet not to hear all I haven't wanted to.

Only the noblest scape.

Only the sweetest silence.

Lazy shift up two

Try being terribly sick, at college, away from home.

You'll know why there's blank space.

Lazy.

Friday.

Test.

Brother's Birthday.

Completely Sick.

Pushing through.

Talk less, cough less.

Amen.

wash {_ r u n _ _}

Today Daniella arrived :)

If you've ever had a best friend ever one you can always rely on one you can always go to one who would never betray you and always forgive you.

That is her.

We toured campus, we ate food, we watched humorous television shows (ha) and we ate some more.

At night we went to my friends apartment south of campus. We all talked for a while then went out to the hot tub.

I counted eight. Only three I knew. One I became fond of. Who? Terrell. This large black man was funny, sociable, and he had my back. Thanks Terrell.

As the minutes turned into hours, our heads turned to sweating, our fingers and toes to prunes.

Sitting idle. Sometimes it's exactly what you need. Tonight, it was exactly what I needed. I've never been a big fan of prunes, unless of course they're on my fingers and toes.

While my skin wrinkled, I watched a giant wheel of time turning across the water. My mind, like my sensitive skin, weathered in fast forward from the heat.

So many decisions. How could so many decisions be made in so short a time? I had so short a time. So short a time. Wrinkles across my mind. So short a time.

Then Peace. Calm.

Then Drive Home.

Then Dim Light.

Then Shower.

thank you time.

thank you water.

thank you belle.

thank you {_ _ _ _ _ _}.

Hello, Lee.

Wednesday often passes slower than other days.

On wednesday I have only one real class and no other serious obligations. No sooner had I woken up then seven o'clock rolled around.

Seven o'clock and hanging out in my room, eight o'clock and leaving my room for another's, nine o'clock and time to leave for the night.

During my eight to nine interval of visitation, I was sure to test out all beds visible to my then glassy eyes. By eight (after being awake for only 9.5 hours) I was ready to collapse. Luckily I have friends (what wouldn't I do with them).

What is hello but hey, and what is hey but 'Ha.' Ha, Lee. Lee like lye, lye like lie, and lie like leigh.

As I laid my head softly down on lee's bed, I realized how lucky I am. My life is unique, and completely wonderful.

Thank you friends and family and God for making my life what it is, and what it isn't.

Keeping my eyes half open, I listened as my friends talked, laughed, and sat quiet.

If you'd ever like to, just ask.

We'll go, we'll sit, we'll talk, we'll laugh, and then we'll just listen.

We'll sit quietly and hear it all.

Then we'll say, "Look at it. Look at it all."

And then we'll stand, staring at the stars, running new waters, weaving old string.

Hello, Lee.

Amanda

It rained today. It rained for minutes. It rained for hours. Maybe it rained for days. By the time it stopped raining, I didn't even know what day it was.

Thank you, Amanda, for reminding me that the day after Monday before Wednesday four days before the weekend is, in fact, Tuesday.

As for the rest of the day (what day?) it kept raining.

Here's the financial update-I'm in the exact same spot. BUT, guess who (what?). I had a job interview today. They should get back to me tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be cleaning floors again by the end of the week.

In the immortal words of lil scrappy, "Money in the bank, shorty what you drank."

I'm not sure when or how height became a primary distinguishing factor for attractiveness, AND a relationship status, but I do know this: soon, I will have money in the bank, shorty.

Shorty (shortly) after I found out about my job interview, I ate dinner. At dinner I made a small cup of perfectly sculpted frozen yogurt. Not only was it beautiful, it was GROSE.

And though I realize 'not only' was not an appropriate expression to use in that situation.

See, look what I can do. I can just end a sentence where it's completely inappropriate.

After discovering my vanilla flavored frozen yogurt was not only beautiful, but gross, I dumped it out, and went for vanilla ice cream.

The ice cream was melty, dripping, barely solid, and pretty much liquid. Yes. I can just use four descriptive phrases/adjectives that mean exactly the same thing. (Emphasis?).

The great thing about the ice cream was that it tasted amazing.

Sometimes the drippy, melting, ugly things will please you more than the pretty, solid things.

Don't judge a cream by it's texture.

Less than three, Amanda.

Smiling Abs & Social Acid

Today was monday.

I worked out today for one hour. My regiment of choice? P90X, Core Synergistics.

If you've never done P90X, do it. It's pretty insane. It hurts, but it's a wonderful hurt. In the words of Tony, "I hate it, but I love it."

30 minutes into the workout (which I've done MANY times) I was not extremely happy.

But what's awesome is that I keep going. I keep going all the way through, every time, despite the pain.

I wish I could be that strong when it comes to...girls, schooling, religion, family...

Too often I give up before I've reached my limit. Flexing my personality is easy. But then, so is overdosing on social acid.

As for love gained and love lost, I've had my share. As I push through the emotional strain of everyday life, I try to say "I love you."

If you tell them that you love them, then they'll know you love them.

If you show them you love them, they'll love you back.

If you fight through the pain, tell them, show them, push further, and love them still, then, and only then, you will have made a lifelong friend.

Work your smile like you work your abs, amp up your devotion like you pump up your arms, and always, always, build your love.

Tying up Sunday.

I have a mild tie fetish. Consequently I have a medium rare tie collection. I say medium rare because the ties I own are all unique, though the most unique have been worn by others before me.

Wrapping my newest thrift store tie around my neck this Sunday, I realized that you can often determine someone's personality from the ties that they wear.

For example:

• a solid color fat bottomed tie-they wanted to make sure they match well, but they're not willing to go any deeper into the fashion world. These make good friends, but even better acquaintances.
• a paisley tie of average width- This person is slightly more bold. They care about what they look like, but they don't know that paisleys are overwhelming on almost every tie. Great friends, though they sometimes think they're all that.
• an animal scene tie- This person has a wolf and cub on their tie. It's really hit or miss here. They're either your best friend for life or a seventh grade science teacher. Either way, they're unique...
• a super-slim tie- This person either pulls off the super slim very well or disgraces it's beauty. Super-slim ties work for super-slim guys. Period. ''Super-slim with fat, don't touch that, super-slim with thin, you've got the in.''
• a skinny tie- Hands down. The best tie. And you know what? It looks good on just about anyone. This person cares, but isn't too showy. Love the skinny tie. The skinny tie loves you.

Who am I? I am a skinny tie. I am an occasional super slim. I am an every 5th week solid. I am a millennial paisley. I am an animal scene wanna be.

When you suit your tie to everyone, the tie suits everyone to you.

Look ( SHARP ) on Sundays.

Sat(ur)day

Saturday I slept till noon.

From noon to 1:30 I worked out.

From 2:00 to 2:45 I ate lunch.

From 3:00 to 4:30 I wrote a song with my roommate.

From 4:45 to 5:30 me and my roommate got a couch from a thrift store.

From 5:45 to 5:57 we maneuvered the couch into our room.

From 6:00 to 6:45 we ate dinner.

From 7:00 to 8:30 we watched 30 Rock.

And from 9:00 to 10:00 I played music in the tunnel.

Looking back on my day, I realize how much I got 'accomplished.' Wether or not what I actually did was productive is still up in the air, but I am sure (sure) that if it counts as time waisted, it was time waisted in the pursuit of happiness.

As far as Saturdays go, I would give March 6th a 6 of 10 (how appropriate). Results were above average, but nothing too terribly memorable.

I did, however, have a close encounter with a massive snoring polynesian whose name was definitely from a nursery rhyme and possibly-almost the common acronym for body odor. Dio? This Mammoth Man was nothing short of Massive (note the capitalized alliteration).

Dio was large enough to recline a chair to its threshold (ground), require two (large) blankets to cover the length of his body, and produce sound waves (we discovered) that penetrate multiple layers of sheetrock.

It's men like Dio that put a big ".....ur....." in Saturdays.

In Six Dimensions

Friday.

Friday is the party. day.

Today, I walked home to my new room after writing a broadcast script for a Japanese Beetle invasion of a neighborhood in a local town. The news hits hard these days, and I plan on hitting the news just as hard as it hits me.

When I got to my room, I had trouble getting my key in the lock. This wasn't your average 'I'm stupid, I put the key in upside down' type of trouble. This type of trouble was I forcibly could not get the key into the lock.

Survey says: no idea. What I did know was that my key wasn't working, and I was tired. Survey (actually) says: they switched the lock on my door without informing me. Who is they? The man. The system. The same ones that take one of your socks while you're asleep. The same ones that shine sunlight right at your eye and NOWHERE else. The same ones that put little rocks in your shoe.

After going to the help desk and getting a brand new key, I went home, unlocked my door, and breathed.

My new room feels more like home than my old. Still, not home, but 'like.'

Later in the night I watched a new movie, "Alice in Wonderland." This remake of an old classic (one which I had never before seen) was horrifying. I honestly have never been more terrified (disturbed) in my life.

Before the movie started, I took my seat and watched the previews. I first put on my 3D glasses. Then I put on a second pair.

Seeing life in six dimensions is substantially more exciting than seeing life through only my eyes. From six dimensions I can see in ultra, retro, intrusive, future, and arial perspectives. From six dimensions I can see the back of my head and stare through to the front, all up from my toes.

'Cool' people are often only 'cool' to the naked eye. 'Beautiful' people are often only 'beautiful' in plain sight.

Try it again;

Try it again in six dimensions.

Kentucky Fried Grooving

Today, Thursday, I made a big move.

I moved up one floor into the sky. I now live a floor higher than I did before.

Higher->Floor->Moving->Moving up->

MOVING ON UP.

And somehow, MOVING ON UP->Kentucky Fried Chicken.

BUT, we blasted music while making the move. So thus, Kentucky Fried Grooving.

And now you know how my mind works. Don't you feel alive? Doesn't knowing the way I think just make you feel alive? Maybe I'm alive because I think the way I do.

While moving, I carried boxes upon boxes from one room to another. When I moved all the boxes, and my new roommate moved his, our room was Thrashtroyed (thrashed and destroyed).

As I struggled to make my way from one end of the room to the other (and, receiving multiple cardboard cuts and hanger stabs) I realized I had a lot of stuff.

Putting books on shelves and boxes under beds, Trevor and I learned what it means to be sentimental. No, not old woman sentimental. My grandmother kept all her kid's teeth, how sadistic is that.

No, I mean look at these scars sentimental; I mean I laughed till I cried sentimental; I mean sleeping till 3pm sentimental.

I love my new room. I love my new roommate. I love my life.

I loved Kentucky Fried Grooving my way, up, up, up.

Warm and Cold

''Wow, am I really am on time? Nice.

Shorts? No. Pants. Check. Jacket? Hmm.''

We all make this decision everyday. What we wear depends (well (uh)) mostly on the weather (females..?)(sorry mom?).

When I checked the weather, I saw high 55. NICE. No jacket required.

What's great about the weather is the little pictures. They make it so easy. JUST LOOK AT THE LITTLE PICTURE. No problem right-WRONG!

I, unfortunately, did not look at this 88 pixel square. Much to my dismay, the weather called for a slight chance of rain and overcast skies.

On my walk to class I was happy; the air was warm, the sun was shining bright. As I walked from class an hour later the sky spit down on my stupidity, "Stupid boy, stupid boy!"

As I shivered my way back home, the company of a friend warmed me through the cold, keeping me smiling, laughing, distracted, all the way home.

When we make mistakes, we learn and persist, or we face the cold. Over the course of the long winter, I have weathered enough weather mistakes to have become unaware of the cold. My fingers, ears, and nose are permanently red and numb.

I don't think it's good.

If you have the opportunity to relieve yourself of a COLD situation, do it. Don't let it numb you.

I think I'd rather feel the cold then stay lukewarm.

I think I'd rather see, feel, and OVERCOME the cold before it overcomes me.

If you've noticed the warm lately, if you noticed the cold lately, you're doing fine.

Try to remember: the warm air should rise, the cold should fall.

What's Missing is {your name here}

I saw a lot of things happen today.

I saw a lot of anger. I saw a little love. I saw a lack of vision. I saw what's push, what's shove.

Most importantly, I saw what my life is like with STRESS.

STRESS IS:

-not getting along with your roommate,

-not budgeting your time well,

-procrastinating,

-not getting to see the one person who makes you forget you're stressed at all.

Yes, it was a stressful day.

This time the stress wasn't about money, or class, or even REALLY about school at all.

This stress was emotional. Emotional stress hurts more than physical stress. BUT, like physical stress, emotional stress builds muscle.

Flexing my emotional muscle today brought on new soreness; but as the soreness heals, I will be building in strength and stature.

oh, I forgot, STRESS IS:

-who poured a pound of wet noodles down the stairwell.

Essentially, I found myself in a storm of contention and high strung housing gods and goddesses.

We all go through emotional stress. We all go through ups and downs.

If you see someone you think is way up or way down or anywhere in between, ask yourself, "What are they missing?"

Maybe what they're missing is a hug. Maybe what they're missing is some laughter. Maybe what they're missing is a friend. No matter how 'set' they may be, they're missing something.

What's missing is {your name here}.

Chicken Parm.

Monday was a great day. I slept till 11, went to class, wrote a song, went to class, worked on a group project, went to a friends apartment, cooked+ate dinner there, worked out, came home, laid in bed.

And now I'm here.

Today was my new friend Scott's birthday. Walking from 'psuedostronomy' to a campus cafe, Scott, Alissa, and myself, made a good deal of noise. Every passer by was informed that it was Scott's birthday, and about 50% offered their sincerest (grunt?) congratulations at his (visible?) aging.

When worrying about what other people think, you lose sight of what's most important: what YOU think. Are you fat? who cares. How's your hair? I certainly don't. Am I walking funny? How should I know.

If you stop worrying about yourself, you will have more time to enjoy yourself, and others. Maybe that smile you shoot to that one person you haven't seen lately is just what they needed. But who can flash a smile when their thoughts are distant with the wind's constant, unavoidable onslaught of the posterior cowlick?

If you give a moose a muffin, he'll eventually set up camp in your house. Don't let those little habits/peeves become a 'moosesense nuisance.'

When helping cook dinner at my friends apartment, I was the official chicken pounder. Wielding a giant meat hammer, I used my (very) basic cooking knowledge to tenderize (to perfection?).

This dish: Chicken Parmesan.

Without my cave-mannish contribution to the dinner, it would not have been properly completed. Because I did my part, all went as planned, and everyone was happy.

I suppose Chicken Parmesan is a dish we all feel every day. When someone forgets to bread, when others forget to bake, when YOU forget to marinade...the dish turns for disaster.

Do your part, and tenderize. Besides, you're not the only one who needs to be fed.

Left Turns

Today I spent most of my Sunday at a friends house, eating food, watching a movie, playing guitar, and just talking.

I really love her family. Very genuine people.

Among our list of discussion topics was...me. We talked about my music, we talked about my aspirations, and we talked about my past. For me, the entire process was very eye opening; I learned a lot about myself by scrolling through my life map with no intent to make any real observations.

Among the things that I learned is I (and all of us) make poor decisions (sort of).

At age 16, at the beginning of my Junior year of high school, I decided it was time to graduate. I worked my butt off, and did what I needed to do to graduate a year early.

My list of reasons was relatively short, but well substantiated. 1) I wanted to be able to hang out with friends I knew wouldn't be drinking on the weekends. 2) I wanted to be in school with my older brother and sister. 3) I wanted change.

I am a very antsy person. I think I have Life A.D.D. My family has always moved, so I've just gotten used to a slightly sporadic lifestyle.

While discussing this with my friend and her family (mom mainly), I realized sometimes I make decisions for all the wrong reasons.

Sometimes though, those decisions end up being what's best for me.

Here at school, I've matured in so many ways I never could have dreamed about in high school; and that's the REAL reason why I needed to be here. Not to get away from friend drama or to be closer to others or just for a change.

My point? Sometimes the best way to get where you need to go isn't exactly the way you thought you might go.

Sometimes, you need to make some 'overlooked' lefts to go 'unassumingly' right.