Fancy New Places

Please follow me here, http://matthewknuckles.com/

Its a happy place.

A Proposition of the Non-Sexual Kind

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about expectations. This takes form in two different ways.

1. In a serious manner

2. In a ludacris way (Yes, I know thats spelled like the rapper, I like it better that way)

I'll spare you the serious one, mostly because its full of nuances and not really thought through. Also, no one reads WestCoastMatt for insights into the human psyche. You want my stellar wit!

I am always happy to oblige.

So, way back in May I tried to give myself a relaxed summer. This was a colossal failure. I tried to sign up for one class that I new would have a busy workload, the other I figured would be a breeze. Well, that didn't workout. Instead I ended up taking 2 heavy workload classes and haven't left the library for 2 straight weeks, and recycled air is the best. If you wondering what my thoughts were on Spirit Christologies than you are in luck, I have 700 words ready to email to you!

These classes came quickly after my lightning quick visit to the east coast and my family visiting me here in L.A. Overall, it has been a busy summer, I was not "expecting" it to be quite this busy. (See what I did there?)

So here's my question to you loyal followers: What should I do with all this time?

If you would be willing to give me ideas, I will make a covenant with you. I will complete these tasks and post a picture of me doing it. Here's my request, nothing I that could qualify me as a sex offender or full nudity. Partial I'm alright with.

Ok, there it is...Give me your thoughts. Leave a comment on this blog and I will try and complete it.

Also, I have twitter, johnsonspeaks. If you do too, lets follow each other and I can tweet some of these things for instantaneous results.

This is fun for everyone, trust me.

Artificial Retreat

My phone was stolen the other night.

WHAT AN INCONVENIENCE!

I was at a Fuller party, dancing, hanging and laughing. Nothing out of the ordinary, until...I could not find my phone. Nothing ruins an evening like losing a phone you don't really like, making an insurance claim and receiving the exact phone that was stolen 2 days later. That was my saturday night. My phone was taken.

One of my favorite stolen phone stories is from my friend Ryan Payne over at; http://ryanalexanderpayne.blogspot.com/. Ask him to tell you the story. It is a doozie!

But, I don't want to sound like a complainer. I decided the next day I would take these lemons and turn them into lemonade. It would be an experiment, a walk down memory lane if you will. There was a time before I had a cell phone. I was 15 when I was pleasantly surprised one christmas day with a motorola flip phone that resembled a walkie talkie that my 10 year old brother has. I went the first 14 years of life without one, how hard could it be now? I'm almost 25, 10 years later, more mature and I'm not that attached to my phone. I can go off the grid, other people will have the real problem. They won't be able to get a hold of me. They're the ones with a problem. Really, I am doing them a favor, I have been enabling them this whole time. It's time I taught them a lesson.

So, sunday was day one of Project: Blackberry = LAME-berry

Ok, so I was a complete failure at "Going off the Grid". Within 10 minutes of not having my phone, I could only think of how much my life was better when I had it. Here are a couple reasons why:

1. If I want out of a conversation, I pull out my phone and pretend to have a phone call.

2. Text messages- I love them! Conversations without all the annoying eye contact.

3. Facebook on my phone. When I am bored, I can check out people's hilarious status'.

4. Booty Calls. What did people do in the early 90's? Beepers? As if!

5. If I break down on the side of the rode, a drifter won't kill me and wear my face.

This is the conclusion I have come to. It is 2010. I am a child of technology. I live in the 21st century, its time to embrace it. I shouldn't feel bad about my inability to function without it. When technology eventually rises up and takes over the world and makes us all it's skin-slaves, I'll say, "Well, we had it good there for a while. I sure do miss my hoverboard though."

Tell Them...

I once took a speech class in college and the professor said one thing over and over that eventually made me want to kill myself and throw up simultaneously.

"Tell them what you're gonna tell them, Tell them, Tell them what you told them"

So in honor of that, I give you my outline for this blog.
1. Paying Attention
2. Star Sighting
3. P.D.A.


1. I started classes again Monday. I am taking a 5 week intensive, Hebrew Prophets. If any of you read this with sort of consistency (or talk to me on a regular basis) you know that I have been doing a bit of traveling/sitting around recently. I have mostly been filling my time with a whole lot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She really knows how to take care of business. Anyway, when I attended my first class of the summer quarter, I forgot how to pay attention. This is not to say that the Professor is boring, (although he could stand to look more like Sarah Michelle Gellar) but he sure was not killing vampires. Here's the thing, he spent 3 hours talking about the the theology of Joshua and Judges. It's like he doesn't want me to pay attention.

Interesting? Yes. But, he totally jumped over all the sweet battles, Prostitutes getting chopped up, dudes ripping off a jawbone of a lion and then beating the lion with it. This stuff is gold.


2. This morning, July 28, 2010. I saw Bradley Whitford! You may remember him from such shows as The West Wing and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. I can legitimately say I was star struck. I love this dude. I think he is hilarious and handsome (Yes, I said it.) My love for him is only trumped by one man, Tom Hanks. He will forever be number 1. And if I saw him on the street, let it be known I would urinate my pants.

3. Finally, a quick discussion on P.D.A.. Maybe it was was my southern conservative up-bringing. Or maybe it is my aversion to physical touch in general, but public displays of affection make my stomach turn. To be clear, I'm not talking about a quick kiss or hand holding. That I'm okay with and even encourage. But, when I am sitting in Starbucks working on a paper and glance outside to see a guys hand down the back of a girls pants, it kinda makes me want to poke out my own eyes with my ice coffee straw.

Well, I told you about:
1. Paying Attention
2. Star Sighting
3. P.D.A.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, or at least as much as the Starbucks couple.

Summer: Friend or Foe?

Summer. What is it? When I was a kid. Summer was a coveted time. Countdowns started the first day of school. It meant complete and total freedom from teachers and their dirty looks. Summer was hot, which meant serious pool/beach time. Spending the night at friends houses. Staying up late. Summertime romances. Vacations and most importantly...NO SCHOOL!!

And then, You would return to school, put on that leather jacket with T-birds on the back. Realize that your summer romance moved to your school and then you sing in unison with your fellow T-birds. At the same time this girl and her new friends are singing the same song but the lamer, more love filled version of the same song. We'll call this song "Summer Lovin"

Fine, thats Grease, but if my life looked more like John Travolta's, it wouldn't be the worst thing.

But now I find myself in this weird, hybrid adult-college world, aka: "College 2: Prolonged Adolescence" I don't have a summer. Technically, by the definition I gave above I haven't had a summer in quite some time.

I remember being in college and talking to an admissions woman who, I think generally hated her life, said to me, "Summer really just becomes the 'hot time' of the year" That immediately depressed me. (And that women satisfied her need to kill the spirit of Bible College students) I now know what she meant. Summer is actually a gigantic tease. It plays with you, it seduces us with its sun and warm temperatures, but really its just hot and you sweat in uncomfortable places.

I try and best summer by wearing less clothing or "breathable" clothing. This never works and you are reminded why mesh is strictly a transvestite statement. Fashion for summer is also a tease, who doesn't want to wear tank tops and linen pants? Boy I do! But, they fail to mention, that unless you look like Matthew McConaughey you should just wear a T-shirt. Probably a Parka.

But, here is my real problem, I miss what summer used to mean. Movies capture this well, the perfect summer experience. Fun adventures, great conversations and best of all, little to no sweat, depending on the situation. (if your looking for buried treasure, a little sweat is expected even desired)

So here it is, in conclusion, Summer is the popular girl in high school. Once you leave high school she becomes unimpressive and you have moved on to more stimulating things. I prefer Fall. I would like to propose that fall is the most intellectual of seasons. Fall is the girl who awkwardly read Jane Austin in the corner but, comes into her own in college when personalities become more important for guys.

And with a solid dose of chauvinism, I bid you adieu.

Johnsons vs. SoCal

Well, here it goes. My fingers are unfamiliar with this territory...this blogging.

It has been to long. I've missed you. In case you forgot what I look like or who I am, here are the important facts;

6'2''

Brown hair/eyes

Hilarious Wit

Charming

Stunning Good looks, often likened to the love child of George Clooney and Brad Pitt.

Here's a pic...

Ok, my life recently has been spent in motion. I have been dancing, flying, driving, running, rollercoasting, zooing and eating.

A lot of eating.

My family was here in L.A. for the last 10 days and let me tell ya, we Johnson's can vacation. I'm not talking lounging by the pool with a trashy novel and going in and out of a R.E.M. cycle vacationing. I'm talking putting about 400 miles on my car and seeing quite possibly every corner of Southern California. We went to Disneyland, San Diego Zoo and everything in between.

The members in attendance for this trip were Dad, Mom, Michelle and the ever hilarious Johnathan. Johnathan at one point as the tour guide, pointing out important details like Porn billboards and Taco Bells says, "It's getting hot in here, take off your clothes." As an older brother I could not have been prouder of him referencing Nelly so casually.

My job is complete.

I wish I had pictures for you all (soon to come), because there are some gems. My Dad looks high (like on pot or the crack), Mom jumped and the kids are dang good looking.

I have more stories but, I have forgotten how to type more than this.

Humidity pt. 2

The other day I had my teeth cleaned. Last time I had my teeth cleaned at this particular place, the dentist, he said this to me as I was leaving the building, "Do you work out? You got a nice shape." I didn't know how to respond, so I said, "Thanks"

This office is a bizarre place.

While the dental assistant hacked away at my mouth, K-love was in the background. For those of you reading this and are not familiar with K-love, it is the local Christian music radio station that plays such cutting edge hits as DC Talk, Carmen, and the new John and Charles Wesley hymn.

Anyway, as I sat there rocking out to 4Him, I realized something. There were a lot of demands on my mouth. Confess! Spit! Wider! Don't Gossip! etc.

It's moments like these that I miss about the south.

Humidity pt.1

Where have you been?

I was out.

Where? Were you with her?

Well, maybe, stop judging me. MOM! I LOVE HER!

You don't know what love is!

Oh, is that right, you and Dad gave me a great example!

That was a dramatic performance of my absence from the blogosphere. And also some thoughts on divorce.

I've missed you all. Let me catch you up on the West Coast rumblings.

The end of the quarter almost took my life. I almost stopped living. I had a ton of reading and major papers. But, let me tell you about what I did this past weekend.

Last week, after completing a 15 page paper on the Tower of Babel and giving a presentation on the immigration law in Arizona, I flew to Jacksonville, Florida. This was a wedding of expectation. It was 3 years in the making. I remember the awkward non-dating time all the way to the awkward, "I think I love this girl" time. To be honest the later was more terrifying to me.

Hunter Price and Beth Fricker tied the knot, as they say. It was an exciting time and I almost cried 3 times. It was one of two things:

1. Something was in my eye

2.Hunter was getting married,

To be honest, it was number two.

The wedding was beautiful. Beth, the bride, was beautiful. The day was Humid. So humid in fact I could see the humidity. A person would create ripples in the humidity by walking. Gross.

But, I'm not convinced that it did not add to the magic of the day.

There is something to be said about having your friends and family there on your day, participating in the most life changing decision you will ever make. The one thing we had in common that day was a shared love and affection for the couple and the God-awful humidity.

It was lovely.

You may or may not know this particular fact about me. I am not a dancer. I've heard rumors that rhythm is a dancer. Gloria Estefan says that the, "Rhythm is going to get you." I've discovered both of these things to be true. I danced my heart out. After the rehearsal dinner a few of us went to a Saloon.

Yes, a Saloon.

We line line danced, and a Cowgirl tried to teach me how to line dance. I then became uncomfortable when she began to touch me in ways that were not allowed in the old west.

We then "Club Hopped". I have never done this or was even familiar with the concept. Apparently, this is when you go to multiple clubs in an evening. We went to the second club, we were not allowed immediate entrance to the club because the cops were, "busting a perp". This had good time written all over it.

At this point, I got the bug. I just had to cut loose, footloose.

Kick off your Sunday shoes

Please, Louise

Pull me offa my knees

Jack, get back

C'mon before we crack

Lose your blues

Everybody cut footloose

This is also to say nothing of move busting I did at the wedding, the picture above is evidence to that. I also me my dancing soulmate. His name is Sean. We were meant for each other on the dance floor. Any time I groove now, I feel as though something is missing, Sean is missing.

It was a party to say the least.

I returned to California working off a total of 7 or 8 hours of sleep and dominated a few exams. So for those of you considering a Masters Degree the key is to have as little sleep as possible. Trust me. I'm almost 25. But, thats a conversation for a different blog.

I want to write more but Johnathan wants to show me a youtube video on meteors and that sounds way better than Blogging right now.

To be continued...

Into the Great Wide Open

My mom, comedienne that she is, used to say the same thing when anyone asked her about camping, "My idea of camping is a Motel 6!"

Years later I have realized that my mother has scarred me. I don't really care for the outside. I have been known to say, "I hate the outside". My idea of fun is not necessarily sleeping on the ground, cooking over a fire, biodegradable toilet paper and packing out what you pack in (Especially when referring to T.P.).

When I was living in Columbia, I was involved in a youth group, I can say with confidence, I have never met a more active group of students in my life. If they weren't outside sleeping on rocks, climbing a tree or eating bark then they were wasting their time. So, as an involved leader in this group would go camping, but I would not like it. It was humid, the smoke from the fire would get in my eyes...why I was invited I'll never know.

I blame my good looks.

So you can imagine my surprise when I was invited on hiking trip.

Hiking is another interesting phenomenon. People ask me:

Matt, do you hike?

Well, I walk, I assume the principals carry over.

My wit and charm is often lost on them. Anyway, to the hiking trip. This trip had a name. We were going to hike the "Bridge to Nowhere". This did not sound promising to me. My idea of going nowhere is mostly reserved for when I talk about my life, girls or our welfare system (hi-yo!)

Little did I know that walking outside, (thats right, your not fooling me, hiking is just walking when you are OK with sweating) could be so pleasant! We hiked through the San Gabriel Mountains, forged rivers and avoided rattlesnakes.

Overall an exceptional day, I had the opportunity to see a portion of California otherwise I would have never been able to see. Growing up in Myrtle Beach, rarely are there natural things taller than I am. Hotels, yes. The ground, not so much.

Well, what else is going on?

A dear friend and former roommate, Hunter Price, is getting married on June 5th and I'll be flying to Jacksonville, Florida for that. It's a joyous event. Or At least thats what I'm telling myself, I can't help but think of Wayne's World when I think of marriage:

"Garth, marriage is a punishment for shoplifting in some countries."

I'll leave you with that.

On a scale of 1-100

How much better would my life be if I could breathe underwater? On a scale of 1-100: 7 billion.

I've lost it. I'm not sure I have ever had it. I'm not even really clear what it was, but it's gone.

My mind. It's gone. It resembles something like hummus.

I have resigned myself to really consider the big questions. Like the one at the top here. What would I do if I could breathe underwater? Swim all the time.

How sweet would it be if I could live in space? On a scale of 1-100: 10 billion

There is no doubt in my mind, if I am ever given an opportunity to go to space, consider it done. Whether it is Star Trek or the movie Moon, I'm there. Space, the final frontier. I need to explore. Here's the problem, I don't think I am any way prepared, academically, to go to space. Although, if we need to figure out how to evangelize space, I'm your man. Suffice to say, if there are any really rich readers out there, WESTCOASTMATT would be willing to go to space, I am not above doing Janitorial Duties. Keep me mind.

How much do I want to punch babies? Scale of 1-100: 100

I was at Starbucks the other day, you know, being a hip, cool student. Reading in the sun with my dark roast coffee. I'm feeling sufficiently arrogant and better than every one until I feel something hit me in the back of the head. A blueberry. I turned around and, what looked to me to be a 10 year old boy, launching these berries at passersby. Slowly, these blueberries became lethal and this sniper began to zero in on my head. I, casually turned my head to look at the responsible adult and give a visual cue to communicate, "Your kid hit me with a blueberry, please begin with the appropriate beating." To say the least, these bleeding heart liberal californians apparently don't believe in a healthy punishment.

I on the other hand became the man I am today because the stiff right hook from my father.

The end of my third quarter is approaching. This also signifies the halfway mark of my masters degree. Slowly, I am becoming a relative expert in the world of Theology. Maybe not an expert but someone who could in theory be viewed as someone who knows what they are talking about.

This brings me to some ideas for my next Master's Degree:

Hip Hop. Specifically the work of MF Doom and Jurassic 5

The Coen Brothers: The use of dark images in comedy

Shoes: Nikes Air Max 90's, Adidas Star Wars Edition. Why Nike is better than Adidas.

These are just a few thoughts on my continuing education.

Summer Loving

I'm currently taking applications for my summertime girlfriend. It will consist of hand holding and musical numbers. An Essay and 2 letters of recommendation are required. Freckles are a plus. Also, no commitment past Labor Day

Saturday, May 1st was a bizarre day. Really nothing about it was a typical day in my life. It started with heading into Downtown LA with a class group. We we're supposed to "observe" a community. Well, downtown was having a Cinco De Mayo celebration, and I can't think of a better use of my time. Taquitos and Margaritas were flowing like wine. (I'm not sure how the metaphor applies to taquitos...go with it) While we were downtown, we decided to "stop by" the march on city hall in opposition to the recent activities in Arizona.

I'm not sure how many protests you have attended, this was my first. It was philosophically interesting, but emotionally disconcerting. There were more or less 250,000 people in downtown LA, marching and protesting this recent bill. I don't know where you stand, but I make it a point to not talk about serious things, ever.

I'll leave it at this, what has Arizona really ever given me? A boycott doesn't really affect me, now if you ask me to boycott the GAP? Then I have some serious problems.

My day continued with homework, and then bizarrely enough I ended up watching The Notebook. But, let me tell you the circumstances surrounding it. I came home around 8:30, made a PB&J with raspberry jelly, a Gin and Tonic and sat down a balled my eyes out.

That darn Rachel McAdams is a spirited lady.

So, because of the events of my saturday, I have decided to hire for a new position.

"Summertime Girlfriend" The ad is at the top of this blog and any/all who are interested should reply by a comment to this blog.

Why the application? Well, I'm just trying to weed out the ones who are not interested in musical theatre. I think thats reason enough, I can have standards, right?

Also, if these marches are an indication of anything, it is the fact that the world is coming to an end. Maybe I am more sensitive to it now that I live in california - and a stiff breeze could knock this state into the pacific - but no one wants to be alone during the apocalypse.

Am I right?

Everybody's working for the weekend.

Whoo!! What a weekend. Let me tell ya! This is why I moved to L.A.

Recently, if you can believe I have felt super claustrophobic. Yes, mock me, living in one of the largest, and most famous cities in America, I complain about feeling boxed in. But, I have. I spend way to much time in the library.

This is not false humility. (That does not suit me, I think I'm great)

"No, no, it was my pleasure to give that Hobo $100!"

"I am not that smart, is a 2400 on the SAT really that good?"

But, I default to the library. When I think about where I should go to complete homework or study, I just end up at the library. It's like the auto-pilot turns on and without thinking, that's where I go. There are plenty of cool, hip coffee shops or Java Huts (as they call them here in LA), but I just go to the library like a huge loser.

Anyway, this weekend I had a much deserved blast in this town.

Friday, April 23 2010

Here in LA, the birthplace of Cinema, Turner Classic Movies held the 1st anual Classic Movie Festival. I had the pleasure of seeing Casablanca (one of my favorites of all time) in the famous Grauman's Egyptian Theatre. It was an original recording on loan from Warner brothers. This was an exceptional experience that you kind of expect to happen at some point while living here. At least I did. But, what was a little less likely, like seeing a shooting star, I was hit on. BY A GIRL!! I know, bizarre. This happens so infrequently, that you could set a broken watch by it. Buick was a sponsor of the festival, and while sitting in the drivers seat of the new Lacrosse one of the associates, while asking me car related questions asked what I drove,

I responded. "A Ford Explorer"

she then said, "Ooh, I would like to ride in that with you"

Awkwardly, not knowing what to do with my hands, "Um...can I get my free tote bag now please?"

Saturday, April 24 2010

Here in LA they have the Festival of Books. Which is just a bunch of publishers come and talk about books. Authors come and speak about their books. And you, the patron can spend money on books. I did not do much other than walk around, wishing I had more time to read books on Cooking, Knitting and Aliens: Fact or Fiction.

Sunday, April 25 2010

Sunday began like any other sunday. The alarm went off around 8:45 for church at 9:30. I was immediately annoyed that I needed to get up, but more annoyed that I have to pee. And by pee I mean, if I hold it any longer I'm going to pull a muscle. After church Sam and I ate some indian food.

Typical Sunday, nothing special.

Here's where it gets good. We stepped on the metro around 4:30 to head downtown to go to the Gibson Amphitheater. The Gibson holds about 6,000 people and has held the Grammy's, MTV Movie Awards and Possibly Purina's Dog Show (Don't quote me on the last one).

However, we went and saw CONAN O'BRIAN!! I could not have been more pumped, excited, ecstatic...I can't think of another word to express my emotional state. Let's suffice to say that I was beside myself. (Look at that, I came up with another one.)

Conan was great, hilarious as always. He had plenty of guests as well. Jim Carrey, Aziz Ansari, Sarah Silverman, Jack McBrayer and Jonah Hill to name a few.

A much needed weekend in the midst of a busy quarter filled with unfunny things like, systematic theology, the book of Genesis and ethnography's of clowns. (Oh wait...that last one is funny, my bad)

By the way, no one calls coffee shops, Java Huts, I just wanted to mess with you and see if I could get you to say it. But then I regretted it. Because how embarrassing would that if you came out here and said, "Hey, let's go to a Java Hut and chill" Everyone would point and laugh and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Not even Hitler, history already has a skewed view of that guy.

Mixtape

Here's the problem with Grad school.

It is seriously getting in the way of my TV watching. I mean between the 300 pages of reading I have from week to week, when do these professors think I have time to watch such gems as; Glee, Friday Night Lights, How I met your Mother, Chuck, 30 Rock, Community, Lost to name a few.

So annoying.

Life here on the West Coast has entered a monotonous place. School, school, school. I have found a way to break the monotony. At least for me anyway. I have discovered a website that may or may not have been created for me. www.8tracks.com

It is a place where people can make playlists out of their own library and post them for others to listen to. Its a great place to discover new music and share music. There is something hippy and bohemian about it. Don't get me wrong, I hate hippies. Like HATE! But, I like that they share.

But, this website I think is a genius idea. I have always loved making playlists. Anytime there is an opportunity, I sit at the computer and think through the songs. It is not an easy task. You don't just randomly pick songs place them in a devil may care manner. Songs need to have a flow. One needs to bleed into another. I needs to be a natural progression. You can't play Damian Rice and the next song be Rage Against the Machine. It doesn't work and throws off the party. You also have to take into account the guests. The "DJ", if you will, cannot play a lot of songs the audience does not know, the music should accent the group. Accent the conversation but not overpower. The DJ cannot be self indulgent enough to only play what he wants to hear, the DJ needs to throw in some Beyonce', Sting and a few obscurities here and there to encourage a broader listening palette.

Well, that gives you an insight into the weird, bizarre mind of Matt Johnson and the things I deem important. One of those things is a solid playlist.

Spring Cleaning

I called my mom the other day and she was out of breath. This is a odd occurrence for my mother because she rarely does any serious physical activity. Yes, she goes on walks but rarely is she at the point that it hurts to breath. You can imagine my concern when she picked up the phone and it took her 4 breaths to get out the word "Hello". I asked her what was going on, why she was so out of breath and she responded with, "I'm cleaning, Spring Cleaning".

Immediately terror shot through my veins. I was instantly taken to my childhood memories of being forced to participate in, SPRING CLEANING!! Other families look forward to spring. They go on walks, go to the beach, go on a family fun run, have a picnic, family cartwheels through the field. My family boxes up winter clothing, rakes the yard, real lame stuff that seriously gets in the way of watching TV on the couch.

This got me thinking. Maybe its time to "spring clean" WestCoastMatt. So, as you can see, I changed some things up. If you are expecting incredible insight into world events, I still cannot and will not offer those. (Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?) But if you are looking for a witty anecdote and bad grammar then please come back.

It's funny how after you do some cleaning and rearranging, everything seems to make more sense. You look out over your new living room and you think to yourself, "Of course, why wouldn't I have put the TV there and the couch there! It is so much more comfortable and there is no more glare on the TV" That's how we feel here at WestCoastMatt. We try and keep things fresh and light (as well as in the third person) for our readers.

I have a twitter now. I am marginally disappointed with myself. I was hesitant to do it, but once I did I can't imagine ever turning back. Anything that allows me to simultaneously follow Michael Jordan and Reese Witherspoon is an invention that I can get on board with.

If you are interested in following me: johnsonspeaks

E-Day Brunch

I'm beginning to notice theme in these blogs. Maybe you have already seen it. Adulthood. You, the viewer or "Peeping Tom" have been watching me closely and noticed this growth. This is what bothers me...you haven't said anything! I've been walking around, casually, becoming an adult. I new something was weird when my voice dropped and I was no longer confused for my mother on the phone. I should have seen it coming.

I wish we'd all been ready! (Any contemporary christian music fans out there?)

Easter sunday I had brunch. I know, Brunch! That is what adults do. It's a bizarre concept. Its not breakfast, because mimosas are involved. It's not lunch because of the presence of eggs.

It is the purgatory of meals. It exists in the gray area and no one really knows what to do when you are there to get out.

I was concerned when the the plans were made. What was I going to do? How was I going to contribute?

Cook? No. I'm lucky to affectively boil noodles.

Host? Maybe, I am quite funny but that is a lot of pressure. I mean, Jesus rose from the dead, how do you top that?

I decided to lead an Easter Egg hunt. Great idea right? It would have been if the state of California did not sell out of those hollow, plastic eggs three days before E-Day (Easter Sunday). Who thought I had to be responsible enough to buy those eggs 4 days in advance?

So what did I do next? I put together one of the sweetest playlists that has ever been assembled. It was 4 sweet hours of Ray Charles, Righteous Brothers, John Legend and Carol King to name a few.

Let's just say that if E-day was a movie, you would all be asking questions about the soundtrack.

I hope you all had a great Easter Sunday, I leave you with an article that I found interesting and awesome.

Augustine:Octave of Easter

We're Brothers...

My brother is here.

Andrew is in my top 5 funniest people. He says and does things completely different from any other person I have ever met. His hand motions and insights into the world make me laugh.

When I asked my brother what it was he wanted to do before he came out he answered simply, "Chinese theatre and the Hollywood sign". These, in theory, are easy to accomplish. The theatre is the easiest. We drive to Hollywood BLVD, park, mission accomplished. The second is a little more difficult. Yes, of course, you can see it from many different places in LA. But, you can't really see it. I don't mean this in an existential way where sight is subject to the viewer and the object is up for debate. I mean that It is hard to get a picture of the thing. It is so far away!

Here's the problem.

You see it in the movies. Steven Spielberg zooms in on it and there it is. Done. The sign. Right there. You could almost touch it if you wanted to. Well, move here and try and touch it.

You can't, it is high up on a mountain with fences around it. Its like someone out there is pointing and laughing at your weak and feeble attempts.

Well, we did not let this "sign" get the best of us. We got it. Well...by "got it" I mean, we took a decent picture while standing at the observatory. The observatory is famous because of such films as Rebel without a cause and Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle.

In other news. I bought a new pair of shoes.

Star Wars Edition At-At. google it. You won't be sorry.

CSI:Seminary

Is it possible that all songs have been written under the premise that California will be in the background of the song? I have yet to find a song that does not fit as a part of the soundtrack to my driving, running, walking, eating, my overall life in this state.

The Beach Boys in their infinite wisdom said, "I wish they all could be California girls". The only reason they can say that is because this state is impressive. You want everything to have California as the adjective. It was made to have songs written about it. If the United States of America were a high school and the states were the students, California would the popular Prom King or Queen. (If Fuller has taught me anything it's that I need to use more gender inclusive language.)

Spring Break has been great. I have done a whole lot of nothing with a few somethings sprinkled in. It has been good to catch my breath after a long, busy quarter. I have come to the conclusion that if all of my quarters are going to be as overwhelming as this most recent one than I may not be with everyone for to much longer. And technically, I may be writing some of the last words I ever write. My epitaph, if you will. This blog could be a countdown to my inevitable death. Years from now, when people are trying to figure out why I died they will read this blog and say, "Wow, he was super lame, materialistic and kinda full of himself."

Let's be honest, if I died next week, why would anyone years from now be researching my death? It would be an open and shut case. The worst episode of CSI ever. The dialogue for CSI:Seminary would look something like this:

2 agents looking over an obviously intelligent and strikingly handsome body.

Casey:His name is Matt Johnson. It's a shame he is dead, he is handsome man.

McGruff: What do you think happened?

Casey: It looks like seminary got the best of him.

McGruff: He never even knew it was coming.

Casey: Why do you say that McGruff?

McGruff: (removes sunglasses, with a single tear falling down his cheek) Because no one knows the time or the date.

Cue a song by the Who.

Ok maybe not the best pun in the world but I can't imagine CSI:Seminary would really be all that interesting. Just a lot of references to the Nazarite vow and the Feast of Booths.

I often wonder when my non-sensical, steam of consciousness style of blogging will get old but so far I am just having a blast. I hope you are as well readers!

Now, back to some semblance of seriousness. I start school again this monday. I am taking Gospels, Pentateuch and Insights into Cultural Understanding. I'm sure there will be some hijinks to be had in these classes and you will be the first ones to know my faithful WestCoastMatt readers.

Hip or not Hip?

I am continually amazed and how trendy Los Angeles is. I like to believe that I am a fairly trendy individual. Also, coming from South Carolina, I may have been on the "cutting edge" from time to time. I may have even, dare I say, started a trend or two.

But, in L.A. I am tragically behind, unhip, another face in the crowd.

Currently I am sitting in a coffeeshop in downtown Hollywood called Psychobabble, and I can count 9 apple computers, not including mine. 3 leather jackets (It's 78 degrees outside but that is neither here nor there.) Everyone looks like either Buddy Holly or a Homeless man/woman.

When I first moved out to California I was amazed at how hip everyone was. To see people dressed the way that people here do in SC, you could probably name their favorite bands and you could guess at least 2 or 3 of their top 5. (most of which includes Animal Collective or Vampire Weekend).

But, I have to realize, in L.A. there is not really any other option. Within about 5 minutes from my house there is 2 urban outfitters, an apple store, Louis Vuitton and an American Apparel.

At what point does hip become unhip when it lies within such close proximity to your home?

I don't know the answer to my question, but this is my concern, am I uncool?

I'm not asking in a metaphysical, what does it all mean kind of way, I mean it in the most shallow way possible. I think about my dad. At some point he picked a look and said, "Yep, this will work for the next 30 years." If all people come to this place, then am I sticking with Gap jeans and pull over collar shirts? I'll chalk it up to the classic look that never goes out of style.

If you are new to the WestCoastMatt blog and based on the 2 previous blogs you are wondering if I am really this materialistic and concerned with appearance...well...I am.

So if any of you have younger siblings, tell them to email me what they are doing, saying and wearing in High school, I gotta stay hip!

This is from Paste Magazine and pretty much encompasses my life the last 10 years. I watched and participated.

Spring Break 0-10?

I am currently in Spring Break right now. At Fuller we are on a quarter system, so that means that I have 10 weeks of classes and then a break.

To be honest, my Spring Break was already starting in the negative. Many of you know that I have been a loyal Apple user for quite some time. Is started with my iPod. It has been a slippery slope ever since. I have had an iphone for a couple of years and recently I broke it. You don't know how much it pains me to admit to that fact. I want more than anything to be able to say that some big bully took my phone and broke it. Or that I was talking on it and I was swept up into a Jason Bourne style mission and the phone stopped a bullet aimed for my inner ear.

No, the story is this, I put the phone in my chest pocket of my button up shirt while I was in the bathroom. I bent over to pick up my pants and the phone slipped right out of my pocket. At that moment I entered a movie, instant slo-mo. I watched as it raced towards the ground, but I had this terrible feeling in my stomach that it was over. It hit the ground and made a terrible shattering sound. I picked it up to reveal a shattered screen.

(I am in tears as I write this, all iPhone users will understand)

As you can imagine my heart was broken. I now have a blackberry. Let me tell you something, I have been on both sides and the grass is definitely greener over there on the Apple side. I miss the faster 3G network. I hope there is an app for my depression, because it has hit me, like a wave. A wave of depression.

Materialism aside...

Well, the week before my Spring Break was maybe the most hellish thing I've ever experienced. To be quite frank the last two weeks were just ridiculous. I was ready for the break. The last thing I had to accomplish was an Early Church History exam. This almost did me in. 500 years of history in two essay questions and 7 Identification questions. When some students asked for guidance or a direction to study the professor replied, "Hmm..well...you should know it all, very well". So as you can imagine I was super psyched for that. But in other news, if you want to know the relationship Augustine had with the Donatists and how that affected the Roman State at that time, I am more than ready to give you an essay on the topic.

When I finally completed the test, one song came to mind Celine Dion's It's all coming back to me now. Why you ask? Well, I have not had a Spring Break in quite some time. As a young college student you have lofty ideas on how to spend your time. Los Angeles, Bahamas, Miami etc. MTV dedicates weeks to this. Women get pregnant. It's a crazy time. I had not really thought about mine. Because as you may remember, I was neck deep in the Chalcedon Council. (If you're not familiar, you're not missing much, Christ was incarnated blah blah blah.)

But as I left that room, I was reminded of the beautiful thing that is Spring Break. No School! What was I going to do with all that time? Sleep. But also I wanted to explore, to see new sites, experience new things. This I most definitely did.

San Diego.

Me and a few Fuller friends took a day trip and did it right. We ate mexican food. Rode a roller coaster. I bought some fresh kicks. (Translation: shoes) Ate Pizza and ended the day with maybe one of the greatest pieces of cheesecakes that have ever crossed these lips.

So Far Spring Break has been great as a Master's Student. But, more thoughts on that later.

In closing I leave you with this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pDxoj-tDDIU

Enjoy.

A Brush with Death

I almost died today. This week is my finals week and has not only kept from communicating with you loyal followers of WestCoastMatt, but also it has kept me from my sweet, sweet, bed. Sleep is something that I miss dearly, like the touch from a former lover or a piece of cake for a woman on a diet, I need it, I crave it, I'm pining. I rarely pine, I'm not proud but, never the less, It's happening.

This morning at 4 a.m. an earthquake, a whopping 4.0 on the richter scale, hit sunny Los Angeles. A friend here at Fuller said she always wondered what her response would be under these auspicious circumstances. Fight? Flight? It is a question that can only be answered when you are under the gun.

Apparently my response is sleeping. Also, it is appropriate to know that I did not realize that we even had a earthquake until, Sam my roommate, mentioned it casually. He said, "Yea, it woke me up, I thought about waking you up but then I fell back asleep." It's good to know that we are people you can depend on. And by depend, I mean just assume I am dead in a major natural disaster, it will save you time and energy in the rescue process. And If I am able to find you in the end, the surprise will be all the more special.

Please know this, I was thinking about you in the end, I will miss you dearly and I look forward to seeing you in heaven. I'll meet you at Milkshake Mountain. Take a left at the cheesecake factory if you see Britney Spears you've gone to far. She's not in Heaven.

I'm in seminary, please don't question me.

Right the Price is...

Monday I had the opportunity to go to The Price Is Right, and what a spectacle that was. So far in Los Angeles I've gone to Late Night with Jimmy Kimmel and The Tonight Show with Conan O'brian (RIP). These two talk shows were an experience. The goal for these shows is to entertain you. It is a weird experience. They want you there, they need you there. Because, what are these guys really without an audience? It suggests the old question, if a tree falls in the forest with no one to hear? If a joke is told and there is no one there to laugh, is it funny?

Anyway, The Price is right is nothing like those shows. As soon as you step on to that CBS lot you enter into an odd relationship with the show. You now want something from these people. Like, a matching set of Jet-skis, a trip to Brazil, Cutco Knives or A BRAND NEW CAR!!! This is how it works.

Arrive:11:45

Wait in line for about an hour in half as they figure out what groups are there and not there.

1:15: Wait to be interviewed. Put on your most excited face so you can be picked.

3:15: Go inside, wait for the show to start.

3:30 Show starts. Wait in anticipation for your name to be called.

4:45 Leave disappointed that someone's grandmother is going to the Yucatan with $1,000 and a brand new sweater set from Cold-water Creek instead of you.

I was in a bad mood all day. Not because there was a ridculous amount of materialism and Hollywood fakeness around me. That doesn't bother and, honestly, most of time I thrive on materialism. But, because I was starving! That morning before I left I had a bagel with cream cheese. I did not eat another real meal until about 6. Because of the lack of sustenance, I did not put on my game face for the interview. I more or less grunted answers that may or may not have been incomprehensible.

Needless to say, I did not make it on.

The day was not a total loss for me though. After our excursion into TV land, we went and ate. At that point I would have eaten my shoe, but we went to the Farmer's Market at The Grove. The Grove is an outdoor mall and it is not uncommon to see celebrities there. That evening was no different.

While in the Farmer's Market, after I ate my Jambalaya, I was sitting with the group and guess who I saw...Kevin Bacon. The star actor from such films as The Air Up There, Footloose, Death Sentence and A Few Good Men.

He tried to be all casual and walk by me with a Philadelphia Eagles hat on, but it did not work Kevin, I saw you.

I didn't talk to him, but I sure did follow him around for the next 10 minutes.

Kevin, here is eating a burrito, I like to believe it is a pork burrito, my favorite. We have so much in common.

The wonder that is, my Mother.

At some point I became an adult. (I'm as surprised as you are) I am in charge of paying bills, waking up for school, tying my own shoes, the whole nine. My life is serious business now. I like to believe I have embraced it with open arms. Saying yes and no to things and standing by my decisions. I'm a man and I am in control. I know whats best for me, and I know how to accomplish it.

Well, my mom sent me a package the other day. First things first. My mom was never a person who sent packages. When I lived in Columbia she would wait for me to come home. I was lucky to get a card on my birthday. But, now that I live on the other side of the country and I live in the constant threat of mudslides, forest fires and the state breaking off and falling into the ocean, she warms up a bit.

When I was home for Xmas break, my parents framed my college diploma for Xmas. I was pumped, it looked super awesome and professional. When I hang that bad boy on my wall in Cali the ladies will flock. Why wouldn't they, it's a humanities degree from a small southeast bible college. They would be putty in my hands. So, to say the least I wanted it, but I did not really have space for it on the plane back. We decided we would mail it. Fast forward 2 months later, she tells me it is in the mail with some other little trinkets and such.

Imagine my surprise when the box is bigger than the apartment I live in. Seriously, I could stop paying rent and move in there, luckily it rarely rains in California so the sogginess is not a factor.

I opened it to find...Toilet Paper!! I know, nothing says, "Love You, Mom." like some two-ply. I continued to dig and I found a new quilt, sheets and pillowcases. Now, anonymous internet reader, you may be super psyched about new sheets, I was not. I was hoping for something real sweet like, the new Adidas Star Wars Series, Ken Burn's documentary on Baseball or a Flux-capacitor.

Man, was I wrong. I put those new sheets on my bed and I have never slept better in my life. Side-note: Did you guys know that sheet's come in more than one thread count? Me either, but as the old adage goes, the more the merrier, and in this case it is most definitely the case. Is it possible that I have a 1 million thread count? I'm new to the lingo, but my life is completely changed. If heaven has beds, my bed is somewhere in that ball park. It's smooth like butter, but welcoming like margarine.

In other news; I will be attending a taping of the Price is right. I will be blogging about, possibly from my BRAND NEW CAR!!! I'll keep you updated.

70 and Sunny

Hello my east coast brothers and sisters. I hope that you are able to read this while being buried under the blizzard like conditions. I followed closely, on the always dependable World Wide Web about your condition. A new and bizarre joy overtook me when I read people's status updates on facebook and seeing newly posted pictures of Snow angels and snowmen. I could not help but make fun of people in my own head. But, then I realized that I had spent the last hour of my life reading and glancing through pictures and I realized that the joke was on me.

Well played.

I on the other hand, brought out my flip flops and added them to my shoe rotation. This past week while people were sipping hot chocolate and contemplating chains on their tires, I was enjoying 70 and sunny.

In other news, My dear friend and I, Matt Damore have endeavored to write together. We have opinions and decided that you should be aware. Please check it out if you have time and are so inclined.

http://thehereticalreview.blogspot.com/

"I'm going to PUMP you up"

The greatest feeling you can get in a gym, or the most satisfying feeling you can get in the gym is... The Pump. Let's say you train your biceps. Blood is rushing into your muscles and that's what we call The Pump. You muscles get a really tight feeling, like your skin is going to explode any minute, and it's really tight - it's like somebody blowing air into it, into your muscle. It just blows up, and it feels really different. It feels fantastic. -Arnold Schwarzenegger



I had no idea what that meant until today. I recently acquired a membership to gym here in Pasadena. It is a 24 hour gym, so in theory, if I get the desire to swim a lap or work on my biceps at 2 in the morning, I can. The biggest reason I signed up at the gym is because they have a pool and I really wanted to start swimming to maintain my Brad Pitt body. Part of the package deal I signed up for gave me three free hours with a trainer.

Today was the day 1.

I met with James. I was given the option to work with Mario, but the international sounding name made real nervous. I was concerned I would be forced to wear a lot of spandex and grease my hair and hit on women and talk a lot about the "passion" I have for them.

I decided on James.

James is 50 years old and could crush a brick between his thighs. He quickly told me that he is a rebel and liked to do things his way. He doesn't like protocol or rules. And being the James Dean, "Rebel without a Cause" that I am I said, "Yea man, whatever you think is best."

Here is the schedule for my time with James:

First, we sprinted to the elliptical machine's to warm up.
(Sprinting seemed unnecessary, but who am I to question a man in really tight shorts?)
Second, I stood facing a wall, holding a medicine ball, crouched down, stood up and threw the ball in the air 20 times.
Third, I did 10 push ups then turned over and did leg lifts.
(I started to get tired at this point, like real tired, like I haven't slept in a week in a half tired)
Fourth, with my legs in the air had to touch his hands with the bottoms of my feet.
All of this was apparently strengthening my core.
Fifth and finally, I sat against a wall, lifted this object, weighing 15 lbs, above my head 20 times and then immediately went in to the plank. This, I discovered, is when you place your forearms on the ground and hold your self up. This lasted for what felt like and hour but was about a minute.
(I began to lose my vision at about this point)

James is a close face talker. After we finished he was breaking down what we had done, what we are planing on doing and what I can be doing until our next meeting (Saturday 11:15a.m.) While James is explaining this, I can't see out of my left eye, I'm pretty sure I urinated all over myself and snot was running down my face. I did not realize the snot until halfway through his diatribe on prices when I began to taste something salty.

After the State of the Union, Matt's body edition was complete, it was necessary for me to use the restroom. I made my way to the toilet and began to sit down and gave up. By give up I mean, my muscles no longer worked. My butt hit the porcelain with a force unknown to me. At that moment, I decided I would live there. In stall number two, with my pants at my ankles. At that moment, that was the best possible place to raise a family.

...hasn't stopped raining for days or a hard rains gonna fall.

Since I am now in seminary I have realized that I live in two worlds. You can see the evidence of this by the title of this particular blog. It is a line from a Jars of Clay song as well as a Bob Dylan song. This so I can appeal to the mass audience that this reaches.

So, apparently California is confused by what is falling from the sky. They refer to it is as, "a chemical reaction when 2 parts hydrogen and 1 part oxygen are united."

Also known as rain.

I was in a coffee shop the other day, reading, and I overheard this conversation between two fellow patrons of the shop. For contexts sake it was light sprinkle. Annoying but that's about it.

Man: It sure is raining.
Woman: Yea, it's coming down.
M: I brought my umbrella today, I couldn't find it anywhere.
W: I know, I almost didn't want to come out today.
M: The school canceled after school tutoring in preparation for the rain.

It's funny to me, listening to a conversation like that. The way people deal with this weather reminds me of how people from the south react to the snow. Schools cancel, stores close, governments shutdown. It begins to look like a post-apocalyptic world.


Lets get to the point of this particular post. I am over the rain. Yes, mudslides are bad and people have to be evacuated. That does concern me. But, the most annoying thing is that my feet are constantly wet. Water seeps through my shoes, my socks get wet and my toes are cold. That is it. Am I that shallow? Not to shallow to make than pun, Hey-Yo!

I hope this finds you well and dry.

Drug induced coma

Do you remember that medicine commercial that says that their medicine won't make you feel groggy? They give an example of a a guy looking exhausted and tired and then his head flies away like a balloon? This is how I have felt since I have returned to California.

Another question: How long is someone supposed to experience Jet Lag? I may or may not have the longest documented case. I'll keep you updated.

I am about to finish my second week of classes. I am taking Systematic Theology 1: Theology and Anthropology, Church History 1: Early Church, and Politics and Policy.

I have become a lot more accustomed to Los Angeles. It is a rad town. So much to do. I had the opportunity to go and see slam poetry live. If you are not familiar with Slam poetry then google Def Poetry Jam and watch some. It is impressive.

Also, I just saw Avatar. I realize that I am behind the ball. But, lets talk about this movie. Absolutely stunning to watch. I have never been more enraptured by a movie cinematic-ally. But, that wore off about an hour into the movie and then I was immediately bored. The story is a mix of Ferngully, meets Dances with wolves with a little bit of Schwarzenegger's Commando. Terrible character development and I did not care about the story. They did a terrible job of getting me connected with the story.

Here's my biggest problem. It was written and directed by James Cameron. He has written and directed such films as Terminator 1&2, the Alien series and Titanic. He has the capacity to create incredibly engaging stories and memorable characters but fell short in this film.

Sorry, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

There is really no other news to report other than school. Oh! Any Gilmore girl fans out there? I was in Borders the other day and I saw Michelle. Remember the french black guy who helped run the Inn and the Dragon fly? Yea that guy. He ordered some Hot Tea. It may or may not have been awake tea. I will keep you updated on and any and all star sightings.