Some times the memories wear you down. It usually happens when you are stressed or vulnerable. You reach out with you mind to find the times when life was less about where you are going and more about where you are. For me, flashes of college, failed relationships, and missed opportunities swim through my head. The fight against the questions of what could I have done differently or what if I had made this choice instead of that one are brought to the fore front of my conscience.
On my way home tonight I passed my alma mater. There was a rush of at least 20 memories, all of which made me smile, instantaneously pulled from the archives of my brain. These happy times were quickly replaced with a sense of dread at the lack of care free, no regret situations I face before me.
I have, recently, been the person happy with my current status. I like my job, I enjoy my accomplishments, and I have a personal relationship with God. But, this doesn't make me miss my "old life" any less. A by-product of growing up is embracing responsibility and forming a new life with what you have built upon in the past. Maybe my pessimistic side is taking over at this point, but I can't tell you how many times I want to, for lack of a better word, escape.
I have been a shreveportian for going on 15 years. I have watched the cotton fields of south Youree turn into the booming mecca for the economically comfortable. I have watched schools and neighborhoods go from respectable to shambles. Most importantly I have seen many friends leave, with their heads held high and their cars pointed East. This bothers me as I look at what there is here, and what there is not here. Many times over the past couple of years I have thought about forgoing my fiscal responsibilities and disappearing. Hitchhiking down to the tip of South America has always had an appeal to me. I would also love to just move to Colorado or North Carolina. Give up my educational roots and be a seasonal instructor, floating from river guide to snow instructor as the years passed. Unfortunately, or fortunately, my mind takes over where my body fails. I am here, making my living and pursuing the "American Dream." At what cost though? When you stop being defined as what you want and start being defined as what you do, where do you go from there?
Maybe it is the few beers I had tonight or maybe it is the truth finally seeping through. Am I happy? Yes, no questions. Is there more out there? Yes, no questions. Will there every be a meeting of what I want to do and what I am doing? Now that's the real questions.
It is easy to SAY give it all up and do what your heart wants, but doing it is something completely different. How many people make these decisions and end up ruining their life and others...but how many live their dream. I have the feeling tomorrow when I check what I have written my mind will have completely changed, but that is my purgative. Most of this is just my inner ramblings written down and then stupidly shared with the world, but seeing it written brings order to the chaos of my mind. I guess when it comes down to it(the moral if you will), do what you will, but don't regret your decisions. I may never go to South America or this be a precurssor to a future decision. If I, on a whim, sell everything I have and escape to South America, don't worry about me for I am attempting to tame my inner beast and longing dreams, I will be rocking it out with my Latino friends(but don't' count on anything happening for a while). Pulling it all together has not always been a strong suit of mine.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Novelette, as Previously Warned
Humility is a dish best not served at all. Or so you would think. My last post was a while ago, not because I have nothing to discuss, because lets face it, with all the idiocy in the world, there is always something to talk about. My reasons for not updating the blog has been more of a time issue.
As some of you know I took an exam to be licensed to do my job in Texas. Texas, unlike Louisiana, is a little bit more selective of who can work, live, and basically exist. Why, I couldn't tell you, but as they say "Everything is bigger...and better...in Texas." Due to time constraints and seminars in the future based on my performance on the test, I had to bump up my original scheduling of the test by more than a week. This limited my original study plans, forcing me to focus all of my attention on three things. My last week consisted of working, going to the gym, and studying till I fell asleep.
Thursday came and I believed I was adequately prepared...but, I was not. I miss passing the exam by two points. Needless to say I was a little pissed at the outcome, but more shocked than anything. I am not usually a person who performs below par. I, and it may seem cocky, am use to achieving what I put my time and efforts to. However, every now and then something happens and The Man up stairs lets me know I have little to no control over the events. A little taste of humility to put me in check.
I believe a reality check is important every now and again. Granted it is not the most wonderful feeling, and you are left seconded guessing all the answers you changed and decisions you made, but knowing you are not perfect and limited in you ability puts things in place and forces you to do one of two things. You either work harder or give up. Well, I am not a quitter so I will choose to balls up and do better next time. I am not going to say I am happy with the outcome of the test, but at least I know that it wasn't a bad experience and it will keep in on track for the time being. Until the bit of humility blind sides me again.
Enough of the deep, now for the condescending shallow...
I was studying last Saturday in the local coffee shop, a tradition I have recently started...and for soon to be known reasons, I have recently suspended. But I arrived early and I was going to get some good studying in. I sat down with my way too hot Colombian roast coffee, opened my new backpack and pulled out a studying necessity...my ipod. After lefty and righty were in place and Jack Johnson was sing just for me, I cracked my book. The knowledge was flowing and people were started to trickle in. This shop also serves breakfast, and as it was Saturday, there were patrons. You had you eclectic crowd. The two middle aged ladies quietly sipping coffee and discussing some "junior league" event of the night before, The college kid sitting in the corner with his computer hard at work on some project. The old man sitting alone eating his croisaunt and diligently figuring out the word jumble from todays paper (why the word jumble, I don't know, I have always thought that to be the least fun of the them all). These were the "good guys" and pleasant people. I continued to focus on what I was doing and time was passing. Periodically there would be a quite cell phone ring and the recipient would quietly excuse himself from the building to take necessary calls. Pretty normal
About an hour or two into the morning, I had a man, around my age, sit behind me. He was alone and he didn't bring anything to further his crannial capacity. I didn't think about this much as I have seen and been someone who has the ability to just sit and think things through without a distraction. I mean how often to do you get the gist of the book by only reading the cover. Well, I can think of one. This man proceeds to get on his cell phone and randomly call his buddies. A sporadic call here and there is not too bad, but a 20 minute conversation with someone who has problems is not what one would consider public info. This didn't stop ole boy as he continued at a less than inside voice. This went on for about 40 minutes. I kept stopping what I was doing, turning my tunes up louder, looking around at all the other people he was disturbing. With no end it sight, I had the thought of turning around to him and say..."You look like a quasi smart guy. What is the difference between everyone else in this place and you? Then I was going to sing him the "some of us are not like the other" song (it's more of an insult then and presentation of facts). But, as the vail of red fury closed on over my eyes and I turned to confront my day ruiner, I remember a bit of an earlier conversation he had mentioning how he wanted to and I quote "get my hands on a piece. I need something to shoot." For the anti-pop culture aficionados, this man was trying to get his hands on a pistol. Over the phone, in a public place. Luckily I remember this and as my mouth opened I merely commented him on his NASCAR hat (and I loathe NASCAR). I decided a couple of ruined hours was worth not having missing teeth or a new air vent in my forehead. Keeping my mouth shut was more about self preservation then the righting of a wrong...selfish, maybe, but I'm ok with it.
Next was the middle 40s man who set up his computer about 15 feet from me. Nothing out of the ordinary with this guy. Keep to himself, no cell phone I could see, but something happened (as you know it was going to because if it didn't that wouldn't be funny). Well, Mister Man decided he wanted to watch some videos on his computer. No big deal, I have done the same thing in there. However, I have the cognizance to do a couple of things. Namely make sure no one else can hear what I am listening to. He was wearing headphones so I only assumed it wouldn't be a problem. Now, I am not sure if he thought they were plugged in and they weren't, or if he just had the volume up so loud he might as well have had them unplugged, but something went awry. I endured rousing tunes by Kelly Clarkson, provocative clips of college cheerleaders complete with interactive cheers, and the occasional news story. At the least you could say this man ran the gamment of info, granted there was some border line sketchy, dirty old man stuff going on. It took me a while to pinpoint the actual noise, but I exchanged some glances and stifled laughs with those of around at the pure unawareness of this man's inner pleasures he was sharing with the shop. Another 20 minutes I couldn't study.
That's when I decided to study well I needed my quite room with Cold Play in the background and my comfortable pillows tugging me into a boredom induced sleep. Just the way a man should study...maybe that's why I didn't pass? But, for now, the coffee shop will be reserved only for recreational reading and internet browsing, and the occasional cup of coffee.
Part II
I know Valentine's day (VD) was a few days ago, but I can still comment on it. I was busy studying, so I treated it as just another day, but I have decided VD is bad for three reasons. It perpetuates the commercial nature of Americans and desire to acquire junk. A three cent card sold at a 1000% mark up is the only way to get across to my love how I feel, I'm calling BS on that one. Because nothing says I Love You like a mass produced, unorginal, poem delivered by a cartoon. I am all about the effort, end results aren't as important as the effort. Just a special kind word or something new and fun...Remember that Ladies (hint hint). Secondly, it has progressed to a competition between men and woman. Whose man can outdo the others. What lady can best read and please their man. The 14ths escapades become the topics of the 15ths water cooler club. I guess I don't regard it as a real holiday, because shouldn't everyday be a day to tell the person you love how you feel? Does it really take a special day created by Big American to convey those feelings? Maybe I am just bitter because I did spend it alone and also I know I am a part of the Corporate Little Guy Killing Machine World, and I am ok with that too. Thirdly, and most importantly, it makes woman crazy. Not the cute, funny...awe that so sweet crazy. No, the pull your hair, slice your wrist, bat-shit crazy you only see in Kubric movies ("All work and No play" type of stuff). I can't tell you how many conversations I had with my female friends guessing and second guessing plans, presents, and situations. There were coming out of the woodwork, in all stages of the relationship from 2 dates, to 3 weeks of "hanging" out, to long term relationships. I listened, I feigned concern, I even did the gratuitous nods, "uh-huhs", and yeses into the phone. You know the ones were you are actually reading or watching tv, but periodically putting in a word to keep her going so you don't actually have to pay attention. Kind of like rewinding the monkey everynow and then so it continues to beat the symbols and dance, and by doing so gives the kids something to do while you relax. Apparently, I don't give a crap wasn't a good answer either. This condition also extended into those without dates. I went over to a friends house that night. He was having a party with his female remote...they both like guys if that indicates anything. They party theme was Happy Non Valentines day. Not exactly a stunningly original idea, but they went to extremes with the decorations. For example heart cookies were purchase, broken in half and put out. Happy couple streamers where hung on the walls, minus their heads. Roses, daises, and other flowers where displayed around the home, either missing the petals or with burned petals. I had to admit to myself this was a little scary. So I lumped them in with the VD crazies, excused myself after one drink, went home, and made sure all my doors and windows were locked, turned off the lights and prayed that I did not become part of the collateral damage of VD. Fortunately, I made it out unsacthed. Now less than a year before we go through it all again. Oh boy, I just can't wait.
Well, if you have read this far you deserve a prize, maybe a medal. At the least you can halve is an "attaboy." So give me a call and I will give you your reward. I have rescheduled my test for next week, I will keep you posted on how it goes.
Until Next Time...Peace Out!
As some of you know I took an exam to be licensed to do my job in Texas. Texas, unlike Louisiana, is a little bit more selective of who can work, live, and basically exist. Why, I couldn't tell you, but as they say "Everything is bigger...and better...in Texas." Due to time constraints and seminars in the future based on my performance on the test, I had to bump up my original scheduling of the test by more than a week. This limited my original study plans, forcing me to focus all of my attention on three things. My last week consisted of working, going to the gym, and studying till I fell asleep.
Thursday came and I believed I was adequately prepared...but, I was not. I miss passing the exam by two points. Needless to say I was a little pissed at the outcome, but more shocked than anything. I am not usually a person who performs below par. I, and it may seem cocky, am use to achieving what I put my time and efforts to. However, every now and then something happens and The Man up stairs lets me know I have little to no control over the events. A little taste of humility to put me in check.
I believe a reality check is important every now and again. Granted it is not the most wonderful feeling, and you are left seconded guessing all the answers you changed and decisions you made, but knowing you are not perfect and limited in you ability puts things in place and forces you to do one of two things. You either work harder or give up. Well, I am not a quitter so I will choose to balls up and do better next time. I am not going to say I am happy with the outcome of the test, but at least I know that it wasn't a bad experience and it will keep in on track for the time being. Until the bit of humility blind sides me again.
Enough of the deep, now for the condescending shallow...
I was studying last Saturday in the local coffee shop, a tradition I have recently started...and for soon to be known reasons, I have recently suspended. But I arrived early and I was going to get some good studying in. I sat down with my way too hot Colombian roast coffee, opened my new backpack and pulled out a studying necessity...my ipod. After lefty and righty were in place and Jack Johnson was sing just for me, I cracked my book. The knowledge was flowing and people were started to trickle in. This shop also serves breakfast, and as it was Saturday, there were patrons. You had you eclectic crowd. The two middle aged ladies quietly sipping coffee and discussing some "junior league" event of the night before, The college kid sitting in the corner with his computer hard at work on some project. The old man sitting alone eating his croisaunt and diligently figuring out the word jumble from todays paper (why the word jumble, I don't know, I have always thought that to be the least fun of the them all). These were the "good guys" and pleasant people. I continued to focus on what I was doing and time was passing. Periodically there would be a quite cell phone ring and the recipient would quietly excuse himself from the building to take necessary calls. Pretty normal
About an hour or two into the morning, I had a man, around my age, sit behind me. He was alone and he didn't bring anything to further his crannial capacity. I didn't think about this much as I have seen and been someone who has the ability to just sit and think things through without a distraction. I mean how often to do you get the gist of the book by only reading the cover. Well, I can think of one. This man proceeds to get on his cell phone and randomly call his buddies. A sporadic call here and there is not too bad, but a 20 minute conversation with someone who has problems is not what one would consider public info. This didn't stop ole boy as he continued at a less than inside voice. This went on for about 40 minutes. I kept stopping what I was doing, turning my tunes up louder, looking around at all the other people he was disturbing. With no end it sight, I had the thought of turning around to him and say..."You look like a quasi smart guy. What is the difference between everyone else in this place and you? Then I was going to sing him the "some of us are not like the other" song (it's more of an insult then and presentation of facts). But, as the vail of red fury closed on over my eyes and I turned to confront my day ruiner, I remember a bit of an earlier conversation he had mentioning how he wanted to and I quote "get my hands on a piece. I need something to shoot." For the anti-pop culture aficionados, this man was trying to get his hands on a pistol. Over the phone, in a public place. Luckily I remember this and as my mouth opened I merely commented him on his NASCAR hat (and I loathe NASCAR). I decided a couple of ruined hours was worth not having missing teeth or a new air vent in my forehead. Keeping my mouth shut was more about self preservation then the righting of a wrong...selfish, maybe, but I'm ok with it.
Next was the middle 40s man who set up his computer about 15 feet from me. Nothing out of the ordinary with this guy. Keep to himself, no cell phone I could see, but something happened (as you know it was going to because if it didn't that wouldn't be funny). Well, Mister Man decided he wanted to watch some videos on his computer. No big deal, I have done the same thing in there. However, I have the cognizance to do a couple of things. Namely make sure no one else can hear what I am listening to. He was wearing headphones so I only assumed it wouldn't be a problem. Now, I am not sure if he thought they were plugged in and they weren't, or if he just had the volume up so loud he might as well have had them unplugged, but something went awry. I endured rousing tunes by Kelly Clarkson, provocative clips of college cheerleaders complete with interactive cheers, and the occasional news story. At the least you could say this man ran the gamment of info, granted there was some border line sketchy, dirty old man stuff going on. It took me a while to pinpoint the actual noise, but I exchanged some glances and stifled laughs with those of around at the pure unawareness of this man's inner pleasures he was sharing with the shop. Another 20 minutes I couldn't study.
That's when I decided to study well I needed my quite room with Cold Play in the background and my comfortable pillows tugging me into a boredom induced sleep. Just the way a man should study...maybe that's why I didn't pass? But, for now, the coffee shop will be reserved only for recreational reading and internet browsing, and the occasional cup of coffee.
Part II
I know Valentine's day (VD) was a few days ago, but I can still comment on it. I was busy studying, so I treated it as just another day, but I have decided VD is bad for three reasons. It perpetuates the commercial nature of Americans and desire to acquire junk. A three cent card sold at a 1000% mark up is the only way to get across to my love how I feel, I'm calling BS on that one. Because nothing says I Love You like a mass produced, unorginal, poem delivered by a cartoon. I am all about the effort, end results aren't as important as the effort. Just a special kind word or something new and fun...Remember that Ladies (hint hint). Secondly, it has progressed to a competition between men and woman. Whose man can outdo the others. What lady can best read and please their man. The 14ths escapades become the topics of the 15ths water cooler club. I guess I don't regard it as a real holiday, because shouldn't everyday be a day to tell the person you love how you feel? Does it really take a special day created by Big American to convey those feelings? Maybe I am just bitter because I did spend it alone and also I know I am a part of the Corporate Little Guy Killing Machine World, and I am ok with that too. Thirdly, and most importantly, it makes woman crazy. Not the cute, funny...awe that so sweet crazy. No, the pull your hair, slice your wrist, bat-shit crazy you only see in Kubric movies ("All work and No play" type of stuff). I can't tell you how many conversations I had with my female friends guessing and second guessing plans, presents, and situations. There were coming out of the woodwork, in all stages of the relationship from 2 dates, to 3 weeks of "hanging" out, to long term relationships. I listened, I feigned concern, I even did the gratuitous nods, "uh-huhs", and yeses into the phone. You know the ones were you are actually reading or watching tv, but periodically putting in a word to keep her going so you don't actually have to pay attention. Kind of like rewinding the monkey everynow and then so it continues to beat the symbols and dance, and by doing so gives the kids something to do while you relax. Apparently, I don't give a crap wasn't a good answer either. This condition also extended into those without dates. I went over to a friends house that night. He was having a party with his female remote...they both like guys if that indicates anything. They party theme was Happy Non Valentines day. Not exactly a stunningly original idea, but they went to extremes with the decorations. For example heart cookies were purchase, broken in half and put out. Happy couple streamers where hung on the walls, minus their heads. Roses, daises, and other flowers where displayed around the home, either missing the petals or with burned petals. I had to admit to myself this was a little scary. So I lumped them in with the VD crazies, excused myself after one drink, went home, and made sure all my doors and windows were locked, turned off the lights and prayed that I did not become part of the collateral damage of VD. Fortunately, I made it out unsacthed. Now less than a year before we go through it all again. Oh boy, I just can't wait.
Well, if you have read this far you deserve a prize, maybe a medal. At the least you can halve is an "attaboy." So give me a call and I will give you your reward. I have rescheduled my test for next week, I will keep you posted on how it goes.
A buddy of mine, who is an adjuster, sent me this picture. Always with the bad wrap. God forbid these morons actually evaluate the situation and blame the right person...themselves. (I'm not bitter, cant' you tell.)
I was driving done in podunk now where the other day when I say this bumper sticker I like. I took a couple of pictures. You might not be able to read it, but you wont' be surprised of this car's current place when I tell you what it is. The sticker says "Honk if anything falls off." I say well done to the owner of that car. They the get the winner award of the evening.
Until Next Time...Peace Out!
Monday, February 6, 2006
Wanna Be Ballar, Shockallar, 20" blades on the Impala.
at some point you need to live up to what you are. I have said this before, but in my mind I am still 22. In reality I am on the downward slide to 30. At 22 you have fast cars, fast times, and stupid woman. These things are great, but eventually you have to grow up. Your focus switches to retirement plans, sensible automobiles, and a well balanced diet.
I first noticed a change when I went to my parents house last week. I was hungry and decided an exploratory evaluation of the frig was needed. In my youth I can remember their frig being filled with cokes, hot pockets, bolonga, and other tasty processed meats, cheeses, and junk food. Now, my options were organic bean sprouts, low fat yogurt, skim milk, and whole wheat. I sighed to myself thinking, I guess I will settle with a non fat weight watchers bar that tastes like cardboard with raisins. I think I would have had better flavor and enjoyment if I had taken a knife and fork to my boots, but I needed them for work.
Not that I am better at my house. The frig reflects, turkey instead of red meat, skim milk, heart healthy/cholesterol lowering cereal, and 100% fruit juices. But alas, I have decided attempting a healthy life is better than living a short uncomfortable one.
Along with this, I got my new company car on Friday. I traded in a Grand Prix (GP) for a new Impala. The GP was awesome. It was sleek, fast, and had the body of sports car. I was able to tear up the roads and make the woman swoon. Now, I have the sensible car. The sedan with impressive gas mileage and stylish body commanding a young professional aire. It's not a bad car at all and I do like it. Now I didn't select this car with the mindset of being more professional and achieving accessories to lead me to mentally realize my age. No, I chose this care because the GP was no longer an option. I was willing and ready to hold fast to the mind games of being younger than I am. Small steps.
Truth be told I don't think I will ever act my age. I don't even think most people act their age. My outside may be forced to middle age, but my mind, my mouth, and my silver tongue will keep me young for years. However, if I you see me wearing gray polyester pants up past my belly button with a nylon belt, constantly complaining about anything, do me a favor...smack me around a bit. The directions on my map are short but adequate..."Second star the the right and on till morning."
I first noticed a change when I went to my parents house last week. I was hungry and decided an exploratory evaluation of the frig was needed. In my youth I can remember their frig being filled with cokes, hot pockets, bolonga, and other tasty processed meats, cheeses, and junk food. Now, my options were organic bean sprouts, low fat yogurt, skim milk, and whole wheat. I sighed to myself thinking, I guess I will settle with a non fat weight watchers bar that tastes like cardboard with raisins. I think I would have had better flavor and enjoyment if I had taken a knife and fork to my boots, but I needed them for work.
Not that I am better at my house. The frig reflects, turkey instead of red meat, skim milk, heart healthy/cholesterol lowering cereal, and 100% fruit juices. But alas, I have decided attempting a healthy life is better than living a short uncomfortable one.
Along with this, I got my new company car on Friday. I traded in a Grand Prix (GP) for a new Impala. The GP was awesome. It was sleek, fast, and had the body of sports car. I was able to tear up the roads and make the woman swoon. Now, I have the sensible car. The sedan with impressive gas mileage and stylish body commanding a young professional aire. It's not a bad car at all and I do like it. Now I didn't select this car with the mindset of being more professional and achieving accessories to lead me to mentally realize my age. No, I chose this care because the GP was no longer an option. I was willing and ready to hold fast to the mind games of being younger than I am. Small steps.
Truth be told I don't think I will ever act my age. I don't even think most people act their age. My outside may be forced to middle age, but my mind, my mouth, and my silver tongue will keep me young for years. However, if I you see me wearing gray polyester pants up past my belly button with a nylon belt, constantly complaining about anything, do me a favor...smack me around a bit. The directions on my map are short but adequate..."Second star the the right and on till morning."
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