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...

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.