papers and pictures

I thought that because I am now paying for school myself, that I would be able to convince myself to avoid procrastination in regards to school-work, but it seems that I was wrong. It is currently Friday, and I have done next to no work on my leadership profile paper that is due on Sunday. I have, however put up some nice pictures in my office. Maybe I can turn that in. I wish I could turn in my own sense of self-accomplishment. Do you think Kinko's would print that?

Graduate Schooling

(to be sung to the tune of "three blind mice")
I love school
I love school
Though everyone may call me a fool
I really love school!

I do. It's really fun. When I was in simple, little college, if I had a thirteen page paper to turn it, I'd be pissed and adgitated, but in good ole grad school I'm as happy as a horse after a race. Granted, I did still have to cram all my work into two writing sessions much like simple, little college, but in good ole grad school fashion, I put out a pretty good paper that I'm almost proud of.

Now on to horrible, ugly, annoying, stupid, frustrating, boring, mind-numbing, kick-you-in-the-crotch, twist-your-nipples-off, rip-your-nose-hair-out, ropes training. I should have got a doctor's note.

All is Well

As you can see by my previous post, the mac I use at work is quite special to me. However, there is no more need to fear, for it is back to life and running as smooth as ever. Only God and Steve Jobs know what happened. Yesterday morning it was as dead as an ant colony in winter, and so I took it to the apple store in Dallas to have it's death confirmed by an apple genius. Perhaps this particular apple genius had recently received the Holy Spirit or had touched the cloak of Steve Jobs because once he turned it on, there was seemingly nothing wrong with it. No, not seemingly, there really wasn't anything wrong. He fiddled around with it; I think in order to make me feel like he was checking everything, but I believe that it was a simple touch from a simple man named Oliver. Thank you, Oliver. Thank you.

Ode to a Mac

My lovely and wonderful Macintosh Pro,
Where, oh where, oh where did you go?

Your body is here, but your spirit is gone.
You're lights have gone out like the setting of the sun.

What great times we had, you and I.
Every half hour you'd announce the time.

I'd sit and stare at your face, so bright
We never argued, nor did we fight.

When I was with you, my soul felt complete.
Now that you're gone, life isn't so sweet.

Where did you go? What happened to you?
Did you ever love me the way I loved you?

Was it ever real between you and me?
That's it, isn't it? You never loved me.
You played me, you tricked me,
You got what you wanted and left me.
And now you're free, free to be without me.
Why couldn't you tell me?

Why couldn't I see?
See between your keys.

Wake up, old friend, wake up Mac Pro.
There is so much to say, please don't go.

I'll never forget all the good times.
We worked together side by side.
But now you've gone out, like the rolling tides.

I don't wanna talk about it

A lot of people, when they haven't blogged or journaled in a long time, tend to start their "return to blogging" blog with a long, overdrawn rant about how busy they have been, how sorry they are about their neglect of the blogosphere, how they had their identity stolen and they only just recently got back from a swedish prison where they tracked down the perpetrator. But I --I will not do that. I refuse. I'm back. Let's move on.org.

I have recently come into the knowledge that I am an overly blessed individual. I deserve almost nothing, but God gives me more than I need and almost everything I could ever want. The other day Rachel and I were in my back yard playing with the dogs, and I just couldn't keep my eyes off of the cutest, most amazing girl in the world. Rachel is so great, and I don't deserve even a fraction of her. It was also at this moment that I realized that I live in a great house, have great friends, a great job, more money than I need, more food, more clothes, and more entertainment than I have time to enjoy. I think this is one of those times in my life that I would like to call a mountain top. I believe that life is a series of journeys through valleys, plateaus, and mountaintops, and this is definitely a mountain top.

Coffee and Bandanas

I have decided that without these two items, my life would be drastically different --especially if there wasn't Creme Brulee coffee from Cafe Brazil.... hmmmmmmmmmmm................ Okay, so I like coffee. That fact has been well established. Since I've been here in the lovely Cave Springs of Oklamoha (i like that spelling better), I've realized that there is coffee, starbucks coffee (i had three, count 'em, three cappucinos the last time I was there), and then there is a new realm of coffee known as Black Love Juice. I can see that there are many flaws to naming this particular realm of coffee with such an obviously easy to turn phrase, but I'm gonna blow right past that problem (that's what she said). Black Love Juice makes my toes smile. It's got quite an amazing power over me. When I don't drink it, my day seems empty and pointless. I find myself asking "Why am I alive? Shouldn't I find a hollow tree and sleep in it until Winnie (the pooh) gets back with some honey." Also, I like honey.

Bandanas are what keep me from needing to put chemicals in my hair. Bandanas are what allow me to gain that extra ten minutes of sleep that I crave. Bandanas are dynamite.

I Left My Heart in Sage Francis co.

I've made some changes. I don't eat unhealthy food anymore. Or at least I'm on the pathway to that decision. I'm breaking up with chips, fried foods, sodas, and other assorted detrimentalities. I am beginning to feel that longing and sadness one feels after they break up with someone. Remember what that was like --the ole break up day? I don't know about ya'll, but for me it was an all day event. I will use Angelina Carasco as a perfect example of a textbook Nick-style break up. Allow me to create a short backstory here. Angelina was on my baseball team in 7th grade. We had a trip to the Netherlands for a tournament, and we sat next to each other the whole way up. I had a special skill in those days. If I could get an hour alone with a girl, she was mine. And there weren't a lot of things that could stop me. So after I made my inch-my-hand-over-to-her-hand-until-I-make-contact move, we started holding hands, snuggling, and saying sweet things to each other. Success!! So after we came back from the tourney, we stayed together for a while. We would hold hands walking to lunch, going to class, walking to the bus. We'd call each other once a week or so. Baseball practice was a tough one, but we got throught it. Or I guess we didn't, did we? Oh, also Angelina was cross-eyed and super cute. Didn't think those two could go together? Well don't you feel like a prejudiced, shallow jerk? She was also asian. Nice...
Anyways, when I finally decided that there were literally dozens of other girls I wanted to be seen holding hands with on the way to lunch, like Jamie Anderson (another post for another time), I woke up that morning with a purpose. I wrote the break up note in first period. I checked it in second period. I had Angelina in my third period class, but this was not the time or the place. I had a plan. Never break up with someone in English class or they'll write a poem about you and read it in front of the whole class (another post for another time). I tried to be as distant and aloof as possible so that she would start to get the hint. Then at lunch, I hid in the bathroom so that she wouldn't see me, and no one knew where I was. After lunch, it was smooth sailing. I had gym, and two more classes with neither her nor her friends. I started the note folding process in my last class, and sealed it with the famous FYEO1. Once I handed the note to her friend Stephanie, all was done and there would never be any reason to think otherwise. It turned out, however, that her brother Orlando was not as "cool" as I thought he would be. He was the captain of the baseball team, and he found out one day that I wasn't wearing a cup. In order to save myself from flashback pains, I will not elaborate.

Anyways

Here is a verse from a break up song by Sage Francis:



Maze broken
She’s runnin’
Feet swollen
He’s comin’
She’s stolen
And before he even knows it she’s gone.
Tea cups sittin’ on the hollow tree stumps
He’s dumped, and can’t seem to swallow these lumps
The beat goes on…

Yes it does, sir. Yes it does.

1For Your Eyes Only