They said "If you don't let it out, you're gonna let it eat you away." I'd rather be a cannibal, baby, animals like me don't talk anyway. ...Put another 'X' on the calender, summer's on its deathbed, there is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends.
Well, the semester has come to an end, as all good things do. In a few days I will box up all my belongings, pack my car, and leave this place behind. St. George is like living in a semi-permanent summer holiday; the pants stay shorts, the water still feels sometimes swimmable, and the weather is still fair. Except in this summer holiday, there's more sleepless nights staring at a blank 'Microsoft Word' document with two empty Red Bulls next to your computer, there's more interesting people, there's more time spent riding down hills on a longboard than you spend in class, and there's many more stories to be made and shared.
I'm gonna miss the times that I could leave my apt. at 3 a.m., not come back until 6 a.m. and no one even questioned it. I'm gonna miss the view from my 3rd story balcony. I'm gonna miss sitting on the edge of that balcony, playing guitar so that my roommates didn't get annoyed by me. I'm gonna miss all the new friends that I've made; Brandon, Hogan, Kolton, Morgan, Taylor, Allie (maybe), and I might even miss Tyrel and Enoch. I'm gonna miss my singles ward bishop, Bishop McMullin. I'm gonna the hot tub and the pool. I'm gonna miss the constant stream of people flooding my apartment. I'm gonna miss the weather like crazy.
Basically, St. George has been a wonderful place to live. I've learned a lot about people, music, computers, and even more about myself. I've dealt a couple tragedies and I've made even more amazing memories. I'm gonna miss the crap out of this place, but I'm excited to start a new chapter in my life. I've been called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ in the Argentina, Salta mission. I'm moving home on Saturday and I will remain in Delta until March 13th, when I will report to the MTC.
When one door closes, even for a couple years, another one opens.
I'm excited to serve the people Argentina and the Lord. I'm excited to move home to my best friends Mick, Lexi, and Chance until my mission. I'm excited to go to the temple, I'm excited to learn the Spanish language, and I'm especially excited to share with Argentinians all the joy and all the knowledge that the gospel has given me.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
What Makes You an Adult?
What makes you an adult? This is the question that was asked to me recently and I've been thinking a lot about it.
Legally, I'm an adult. The law specifies that a person becomes an adult when the reach 'the age of majority,' the age of majority (in most States) being 18 years old. This means that my parents can't tell me what to do, that I can vote, and that I can be charged as an adult (therefore, I'd go straight to a federal penitentiary and orange really isn't my color.) But in reality, I've learned (here in college) that many of my fellow co-eds are not adults, that even acting like children would be a step up from some of the behavior that I've seen.
I think being an adult has a lot more than surviving for 18 years. I believe that being an adult has more to do with how you act, how you carry yourself, how you speak, how you handle the unexpected, how you deal with loss, rejection, and happiness, and how you treat others around you.
I have a friend, Taylor (shown below in post entitled "Switzerland, The Paradox."), Taylor is a very cute girl and often flirts with anyone with perfect (or even less than perfect) abs and stubble. Alex is the stoner next door. He's obnoxious and often won't leave any of us alone. He has a particular (almost creepy) fondness of Taylor. The worst part? HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!! Becca, now there's a catch, this (very nasty, scratch that, very very nasty) girl is a couple years older than Taylor and I, and a few STD's short of Ke$ha.
Last week, Alex gave Taylor a back massage. That must have really really upset Becca, because when Taylor was walking up the stairs and Becca was walking down Becca said "Oh look, it's the b***." (or something to the equivilant).
Taylor calmly passed by her, walked straight up to our apartment, and told us what happened calmly and with a smile on her face. She said, "It's okay, I'm used to being called a whore since high school, just because I have a lot of friends." (Messed up, right!?)
Taylor was the adult in this situation, sure, maybe she shouldn't have let him give her a back massage, but that was in the past. She didn't let Becca's very rude (very uncalled for) comment get the best of her! She was in control of her actions and her mouth, and she's definitely on the moral high road in this situation. And she's definitely not a whore, or a b***. (Okay? Stupid, disease ridden Becca.)
I believe that an adult is someone with self control, even in front of his/her enemies. An adult is someone who learns from their mistakes. He/she is someone who can make educated, long-term decisions. An adult carries themselves with dignity and self respect. An adult learns how to deal with rejection, unhappiness, and loss.
Today marks 2 months exactly since The Boy committed suicide. It still hurts when I think about it, it hurts bad. I cried by myself for a while today. Then I put on a happy face, because that's what he'd want, because that's who he was, he was happy. The Boy was more of an adult than I was, most of the time. He gave me great advice, often.
I'm trying to become an adult, I'm trying to look at others' examples and learn how I should act. I'm always learning about myself, about how I deal with happiness, rejection and loss. I try to treat others respectfully, and I try to carry myself with self respect.
I think there will always be a child inside each of us, one that gets really excited Christmas morning, one that doesn't want to calm down, and one that will want to act selfish on our birthday.
Legally, I'm an adult. The law specifies that a person becomes an adult when the reach 'the age of majority,' the age of majority (in most States) being 18 years old. This means that my parents can't tell me what to do, that I can vote, and that I can be charged as an adult (therefore, I'd go straight to a federal penitentiary and orange really isn't my color.) But in reality, I've learned (here in college) that many of my fellow co-eds are not adults, that even acting like children would be a step up from some of the behavior that I've seen.
I think being an adult has a lot more than surviving for 18 years. I believe that being an adult has more to do with how you act, how you carry yourself, how you speak, how you handle the unexpected, how you deal with loss, rejection, and happiness, and how you treat others around you.
I have a friend, Taylor (shown below in post entitled "Switzerland, The Paradox."), Taylor is a very cute girl and often flirts with anyone with perfect (or even less than perfect) abs and stubble. Alex is the stoner next door. He's obnoxious and often won't leave any of us alone. He has a particular (almost creepy) fondness of Taylor. The worst part? HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!! Becca, now there's a catch, this (very nasty, scratch that, very very nasty) girl is a couple years older than Taylor and I, and a few STD's short of Ke$ha.
Last week, Alex gave Taylor a back massage. That must have really really upset Becca, because when Taylor was walking up the stairs and Becca was walking down Becca said "Oh look, it's the b***." (or something to the equivilant).
Taylor calmly passed by her, walked straight up to our apartment, and told us what happened calmly and with a smile on her face. She said, "It's okay, I'm used to being called a whore since high school, just because I have a lot of friends." (Messed up, right!?)
Taylor was the adult in this situation, sure, maybe she shouldn't have let him give her a back massage, but that was in the past. She didn't let Becca's very rude (very uncalled for) comment get the best of her! She was in control of her actions and her mouth, and she's definitely on the moral high road in this situation. And she's definitely not a whore, or a b***. (Okay? Stupid, disease ridden Becca.)
I believe that an adult is someone with self control, even in front of his/her enemies. An adult is someone who learns from their mistakes. He/she is someone who can make educated, long-term decisions. An adult carries themselves with dignity and self respect. An adult learns how to deal with rejection, unhappiness, and loss.
Today marks 2 months exactly since The Boy committed suicide. It still hurts when I think about it, it hurts bad. I cried by myself for a while today. Then I put on a happy face, because that's what he'd want, because that's who he was, he was happy. The Boy was more of an adult than I was, most of the time. He gave me great advice, often.
I'm trying to become an adult, I'm trying to look at others' examples and learn how I should act. I'm always learning about myself, about how I deal with happiness, rejection and loss. I try to treat others respectfully, and I try to carry myself with self respect.
I think there will always be a child inside each of us, one that gets really excited Christmas morning, one that doesn't want to calm down, and one that will want to act selfish on our birthday.
Just because we will all still be young at heart, doesn't mean that we should act like children.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
The Entities of My Irrational Hatreds
Hatred - a deep and emotional extreme dislike that can be directed against individuals, entities, objects, or ideas.
I have an extreme hatred for only a few things in life, and lately, I've been thinking about how irrational these hatreds actually are! I've compiled a list of 5 things that I actually "hate." Most of us can say that we hate something or someone and not really mean it. Well, that is NOT how I feel about these 5 things.
Well, here it goes:
Meet Jayden. This kid is the biggest prick I've ever met in my life. (and the most rational of all 5 entities of hatred)
In The Dark Knight, Alfred tells a story about a man who was robbing caravans in the Amazon, and he ends with this phrase, "He was throwing the precious gems away." "Why?" "Well because it was good sport! Because some men can't be persuaded or reasoned with, some men just want to watch the world burn."
That is Jayden in a nutshell. He roamed the halls of Delta High with one goal in mind, to ruin everyone's day for his own enjoyment. He didn't play any sports (or at least the ones that he did play, he quit). He had the mouth of a sailor and a temper to match. He thought he was God's gift to earth thanks to a psychotic mother who convinced him that he was. He drove a p.o.c. (peice of crap) Pontiac Firebird. I brushed shoulders in the hall with him one day and he turns around and yells, "Watch it a**hole!" He was loud, extremely cocky, and very very obnoxious. To this day, I can't say I've ever had a good experience with Jayden. I'm almost positive that he's not worthy to serve a mission, but he's going anyway.
Meet Mitchell. Volunteering at animal shelters, attending every farewell in Delta and Fillmore, my hate for him may be the most irrational, unexplainable concept I've ever encountered. But it's still there.
Ever since the first time I met him, I've never liked him. He seems way too fake, way too cheerful, and the kind of kid who would kiss with a girl and never talk to her again. But much to my surprise and yours, I've never actually had a hard fact to prove any of these gut feelings. Although this kid caused a break up between his friend and me. Ultimately it wasn't his fault but it's so much easier to blame him on him. I told her that I didn't like him, and then I couldn't come up with a solid reason and she never dated me again. In hindsight, I'd keep my opinions about him to myself.
NO I DON'T. I know what you're thinking, is it possible to hate an entire decade, even if that decade was influencial, even if that decade was when your parents got married? I say yes. I HATE THE 80's.
Think about all the terrible things that happened in the 1980's! In 1980 John Lennon was shot and killed outside his hotel in New York City, this should be the first indicator of a slippery slope. Next they discovered the effects pedal, a grungy satanic version of the effects pedal. Next came Metalica, *shudders* fast guitar rhythms and too many drums can't disguise the awful, tasteless, excuse for music. Then came disdainfully damaged hair, thanks to hairspray and perms. Then the "King of Pop" Micheal Jackson, the skin bleached, nose-job bearing, child molesting (allegedly), millionaire. Only two good things came out the 80's, The Breakfast Club and Ronald Reagan.
I hate Beatboxing with a burning passion of a thousand hot tamales. It is a lousy excuse for any music at all. Any tard in his basement can click his tongue and try to make drum noises. It is the most pathetic facade of the tallentless ever created.
My last unexplainable, irrational hate is that of Christmas.
Don't pull out the "You hate Christ's Birthday!!!" because that's not the Christmas that I hate. Christmas doesn't even seem to be anything about Christ anymore :(. I hate the the constant Christmas music blaring in my ears. I hate the constant TV adds encouraging you and me to buy way too much crap. I hate the weather and all the cold that it brings. I'm not a particular fan of my little brother waking me up at 4 a.m. to open presents. I do love the joy that it brings and enlightens in people, but I wish there was no commercial aspect to it at all!
I have an extreme hatred for only a few things in life, and lately, I've been thinking about how irrational these hatreds actually are! I've compiled a list of 5 things that I actually "hate." Most of us can say that we hate something or someone and not really mean it. Well, that is NOT how I feel about these 5 things.
Well, here it goes:
In The Dark Knight, Alfred tells a story about a man who was robbing caravans in the Amazon, and he ends with this phrase, "He was throwing the precious gems away." "Why?" "Well because it was good sport! Because some men can't be persuaded or reasoned with, some men just want to watch the world burn."
That is Jayden in a nutshell. He roamed the halls of Delta High with one goal in mind, to ruin everyone's day for his own enjoyment. He didn't play any sports (or at least the ones that he did play, he quit). He had the mouth of a sailor and a temper to match. He thought he was God's gift to earth thanks to a psychotic mother who convinced him that he was. He drove a p.o.c. (peice of crap) Pontiac Firebird. I brushed shoulders in the hall with him one day and he turns around and yells, "Watch it a**hole!" He was loud, extremely cocky, and very very obnoxious. To this day, I can't say I've ever had a good experience with Jayden. I'm almost positive that he's not worthy to serve a mission, but he's going anyway.
Meet Mitchell. Volunteering at animal shelters, attending every farewell in Delta and Fillmore, my hate for him may be the most irrational, unexplainable concept I've ever encountered. But it's still there.Ever since the first time I met him, I've never liked him. He seems way too fake, way too cheerful, and the kind of kid who would kiss with a girl and never talk to her again. But much to my surprise and yours, I've never actually had a hard fact to prove any of these gut feelings. Although this kid caused a break up between his friend and me. Ultimately it wasn't his fault but it's so much easier to blame him on him. I told her that I didn't like him, and then I couldn't come up with a solid reason and she never dated me again. In hindsight, I'd keep my opinions about him to myself.
Think about all the terrible things that happened in the 1980's! In 1980 John Lennon was shot and killed outside his hotel in New York City, this should be the first indicator of a slippery slope. Next they discovered the effects pedal, a grungy satanic version of the effects pedal. Next came Metalica, *shudders* fast guitar rhythms and too many drums can't disguise the awful, tasteless, excuse for music. Then came disdainfully damaged hair, thanks to hairspray and perms. Then the "King of Pop" Micheal Jackson, the skin bleached, nose-job bearing, child molesting (allegedly), millionaire. Only two good things came out the 80's, The Breakfast Club and Ronald Reagan.
Don't pull out the "You hate Christ's Birthday!!!" because that's not the Christmas that I hate. Christmas doesn't even seem to be anything about Christ anymore :(. I hate the the constant Christmas music blaring in my ears. I hate the constant TV adds encouraging you and me to buy way too much crap. I hate the weather and all the cold that it brings. I'm not a particular fan of my little brother waking me up at 4 a.m. to open presents. I do love the joy that it brings and enlightens in people, but I wish there was no commercial aspect to it at all!
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