I've been on the east coast for about 2 weeks now and I have found the cure for insomnia. It is the town of Myrtle Beach. I have done a lot of sleeping in the last 2 weeks. A LOT. That's really about it. The first couple of days it was necessary. Apparently, I had the Jet Lag.
Who knew that existed?
After I caught up with the rest of the "Atlantics", (that's what I call people on the east coast, because of their proximity to the Atlantic ocean) I could not keep my eyes open. All I wanted, needed, desired, longed for was sweet, sweet sleep. But, like a woman, it kept it self hidden from my grasp.
I have a little brother, Johnathan, he is 9. In his entire existence he has arisen between the hours of 5 and 6 a.m. on Xmas day ready to meet Santa and help him with his obviously large load presents with his name on it. When he enters our bedrooms (Which for me now is an air mattress in the upstairs den) we all yell at him and he waits for us to roll out at 7:30, when our mom makes us feel guilty for making him wait.
This year something, weird, odd, even bizarre happened. I rolled over on the air mattress, looked at my cell phone and it read 10:30. I peed all over myself immediately. Why, you ask. Because obviously my brother has been killed in his sleep. I get up in a panic, searching every possible place for a dead 9 year old body. Outside under the car, in the trash, in the bath tub filled with ice, with a letter saying that his organs had been stolen and sold on the black market.
Finally, in desperation, I ended my search in his bedroom, to find him sleeping soundly. I promptly woke him up and reminded him that it was Christmas. He responded;
"Huh?"
"Buddy, its 10;30, you've missed Santa, Christmas is ruined. "
"Matthew, Santa doesn't exist, it is logically impossible for him to exist. I watched the discovery channel and they sent scientists to the north pole and they showed that no one can survive there."
"Oh...do you still want your presents?"
"Of course, but they'll be there when I get up"
"Sure, well I'll be down stairs with some coffee and a copy of the Times for you"
"Thanks, I'll be down shortly"
Anyway, I got way off track there. Back to the point of this blog. I can't stop sleeping. I wake up at 10:30 and I am in bed no later than 11:00. Because I have no interest in anything after that time. Not for safety's sake but because I cannot keep my eyes open. I blame my mom and the absurd amount of food she makes me consume on a daily basis.
But, in other news; Christmas was great. It's good to see everyone. 3 of 5 kids live in different states so its fun to be under the same roof.
California, I will return soon. Don't worry and stop calling me, it just makes you look needy.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
The Mood of Christmas
This year I forgot Christmas was happening. I completed my quarter. My sister visited me in California. We flew home together. I drove to Columbia for 4 days. I return to Myrtle on the 22nd. I walked into my house to see presents under the tree and this overwhelming thought came over me, "Holy Crap I have to buy stuff!!" There is no time!
I arrived home early one morning to see my mom's Christmas lights and decorations. It is important that she put them up every year. She spends hours and sometimes sacrifices health, safety and other family relationships. Growing up I hated putting them up. It didn't make sense to me to do all of this work for a month. But, like a good son, I cooperated.
This year was a little different. I feel as though I stumbled upon Christmas. Like I walked in on a movie everyone else was watching. I was playing catch up. Asking questions like;
"Who's that?"
"Why is he important?"
"Why is he wearing a red suit?"
"I have to spend how much?"
It's funny to me how people completely embrace the Christmas narrative. Adults walk around with "Santa" hats, they wear terrible sweaters with Rudolph and his blinking nose. We buy Christmas themed candies shaped as Christmas trees and we are convinced they taste better shaped that way.
Christmas time is a bizarre time.
People from all walks of life, different levels of scholarship and class systems start spouting stories about a man in a red suit coming down your chimney and leaving you presents.
Why is it the "Most Wonderful Time of the Year"?
My theory is this, people want to be apart of something that is larger than themselves. A story. Something that has fantasy and fun attached to it. What other story allows for these interactions?
There is snow.
An attractive person of the opposite sex bundled up, promising a "Christmas Cuddle".
At the end of your story everything works out.
This sounds great. This is a story I want to be apart of. Especially the cuddle.
In closing I do enjoy Christmas. Here's what I enjoy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=khSml43oKJQ
Watch this. I watched this episode from "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" and that is what put me in the "mood". I hope your time with your families is blessed time and 2010 is going to be a party.
I arrived home early one morning to see my mom's Christmas lights and decorations. It is important that she put them up every year. She spends hours and sometimes sacrifices health, safety and other family relationships. Growing up I hated putting them up. It didn't make sense to me to do all of this work for a month. But, like a good son, I cooperated.
This year was a little different. I feel as though I stumbled upon Christmas. Like I walked in on a movie everyone else was watching. I was playing catch up. Asking questions like;
"Who's that?"
"Why is he important?"
"Why is he wearing a red suit?"
"I have to spend how much?"
It's funny to me how people completely embrace the Christmas narrative. Adults walk around with "Santa" hats, they wear terrible sweaters with Rudolph and his blinking nose. We buy Christmas themed candies shaped as Christmas trees and we are convinced they taste better shaped that way.
Christmas time is a bizarre time.
People from all walks of life, different levels of scholarship and class systems start spouting stories about a man in a red suit coming down your chimney and leaving you presents.
Why is it the "Most Wonderful Time of the Year"?
My theory is this, people want to be apart of something that is larger than themselves. A story. Something that has fantasy and fun attached to it. What other story allows for these interactions?
There is snow.
An attractive person of the opposite sex bundled up, promising a "Christmas Cuddle".
At the end of your story everything works out.
This sounds great. This is a story I want to be apart of. Especially the cuddle.
In closing I do enjoy Christmas. Here's what I enjoy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=khSml43oKJQ
Watch this. I watched this episode from "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" and that is what put me in the "mood". I hope your time with your families is blessed time and 2010 is going to be a party.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
December, you illusive mistress.
Let it snow
First Noel
Little Drummer Boy
I have come to the conclusion that there are 3 Christmas songs. I hear these over and over again. Radio stations think they are clever by playing Sinatra's version, then Michael Jackson's version and then cap it all off with Harry Connic Jr's version (sp?). I'm on to you Christmas.
The quarter is over and I did well. A's in all of my classes. I'm writing this from MB. My life has been a whirlwind this last 3 weeks and this the first time I have to write. I missed it. It's nice to write for my mom and any other random people who accidentally googled "Mediocre Writing" and this blog came up.
I thought you guys might be wondering what I want for Christmas, well here you go:
-A Fixed Gear Bike
-Nike Air Max 90's
-Anything from J-crew
Also, I would accept a gift card from pretty much anywhere. Also, cash is always appreciated.
In other news, everyone should see Up in the Air with George Clooney, super good. Also, there is a new band that I can't get enough of Fun. Everything is in the name. Check them out.
I want to write and update more but something has to happen to me worth telling you.
I plan on getting into shenanigans starting now...
First Noel
Little Drummer Boy
I have come to the conclusion that there are 3 Christmas songs. I hear these over and over again. Radio stations think they are clever by playing Sinatra's version, then Michael Jackson's version and then cap it all off with Harry Connic Jr's version (sp?). I'm on to you Christmas.
The quarter is over and I did well. A's in all of my classes. I'm writing this from MB. My life has been a whirlwind this last 3 weeks and this the first time I have to write. I missed it. It's nice to write for my mom and any other random people who accidentally googled "Mediocre Writing" and this blog came up.
I thought you guys might be wondering what I want for Christmas, well here you go:
-A Fixed Gear Bike
-Nike Air Max 90's
-Anything from J-crew
Also, I would accept a gift card from pretty much anywhere. Also, cash is always appreciated.
In other news, everyone should see Up in the Air with George Clooney, super good. Also, there is a new band that I can't get enough of Fun. Everything is in the name. Check them out.
I want to write and update more but something has to happen to me worth telling you.
I plan on getting into shenanigans starting now...
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thanksgiving?
What is Thanksgiving really?
Food? Check.
Nap? Check.
Defeating the Death Star? Check.
Beer? Check
Nazis? Check
This was my first thanksgiving away from home. I had one of two emotions.
1. I spent my day swimming in my own tears.
2. I hate my family. No tears were shed over them.
Which statement is true? We may never know.
It's weird to not be with your family for a major holiday. I've heard people talk about it in some bohemian, enlightening way. I have seen movies with this premise but it always leads to some sweet adventure. I was hoping to stumble on some doubloons or meet the president.
Here is my schedule of the days events:
9:30am Feed the Homeless
11:30 IHOP for a garden omelet and whole wheat pancakes
1:15-3:30 Nap
3:45 Bathroom
4:00 Starwars- A New Hope
6:30 Barney's Beanery for T-dinner and Beer
9-1:30 A knights Tale and Swing Kids
I know what your thinking, it looks a lot like your family's thanksgiving. As I was having maybe the most un-traditional thanksgiving in my personal history, I thought about t-day.( I hate it when people call it that) Who says you have to eat turkey and stuffing? Who says your day cannot contain a garden omelet and destroying the death star? I think the Indians would hate the empire. In a way they did, the white man, but we know how that fight turned out.
All day I couldn't help bu
t think back on growing up and the epic thanksgivings I had. At least they seemed big to a 12 year old. We would eat, and I mean eat, and nap and then see a movie. Sometimes Christmas themed movies other times violent themed. I think the key to a good holiday is an element of selfishness. Selfishness that can only truly exist in the company of your family.Why else are people stressed during the holidays? Selfishness. It's the only time you can truly be yourself without being concerned with anyone else. I know, you love your family but not enough for them to have the last of the cranberry sauce. That's yours, you saw it first. But, that is your favorite part. Being with parents and siblings and reverting back to old habits.
That's what was missing. My dad wanting to eat ham, turkey, everything at 10:30 am. My mom not being ready until 1:30 or 2:00. The kids complaining about being hungry. When we would finally sit down and eat, all of us yelling over one another trying to get the other to laugh.
As much fun as having thanksgiving in a bar, I missed the chaos.
Thanksgiving, you elusive bastard.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Victor/ Victoria
The quarter is coming to an end. For me that means, papers, finals, projects and presentations. About 5 months ago when I would to talk to friends about how much I missed school and loved the classroom I forgot about this part. The end is the worst part. No time to process. Like a machine fulfilling requirements. I am have gone into mechanistic haze. I can no longer function like I one had.
Stick a fork in him he's done.
At this very moment I should be writing a paper on Theologies born out of Turmoil. Specifically, Liberation Theology. I have reconsidered and completely revamped the way I view things because of this paper. But, I cannot write anymore. Not on justice or freedom and its relationship to the community of faith. So I decided to blog instead.
I had lunch with a transvestite today.
He/She came into the restaurant that I work at and sat next to me. I was on my break eating lunch at the bar. Sat on the bar stool right beside me. There are in the ball park of 15 other places to sit in this bar and he/she decides to sit next to me. Am I flattered? Maybe, I'm not quite sure what to make of the situation. How did I know that this woman with flowing brown hair was a man? Adam's Apple and what looked to me as a missed spot shaving.
I was eating a burger, veggie patty, with steamed vegetables instead of fries. He/she ordered maybe the grossest burger we have. It contains two beef patties about 2 inches thick, lettuce, cheese, fried onions, bacon, chili and some other heart stopping items. Also, he/she had fries with cheese on them.
I was drinking water, one of the eight I drink a day. By the end of my meal had about 3 glasses of water. He/she was drinking a 24 oz. beer. By the end of his/her meal she had two, a grand total of 48 oz of beer.
I was reading from a newspaper that a customer left behind. He/she watched the television and discussed the RBI average of some dude with the bartender Mike.
We began talking and I realized that he/she was a city councilman and local business owner. I forgot which one or I would tell you. An intelligent man/woman. We discussed Obama's New health care plan and Oprah leaving television in 2012. As I left He/She complimented my shoes.
As I returned to work, as a host at a restaurant. I reflected on the last 20 minutes of my life and wondered who was more of a man? This dress and high heel wearing man/woman. Or the 24 year old host, who had steamed vegetables and read the Wall Street Journal.
I lead an odd life.
Stick a fork in him he's done.
At this very moment I should be writing a paper on Theologies born out of Turmoil. Specifically, Liberation Theology. I have reconsidered and completely revamped the way I view things because of this paper. But, I cannot write anymore. Not on justice or freedom and its relationship to the community of faith. So I decided to blog instead.
I had lunch with a transvestite today.
He/She came into the restaurant that I work at and sat next to me. I was on my break eating lunch at the bar. Sat on the bar stool right beside me. There are in the ball park of 15 other places to sit in this bar and he/she decides to sit next to me. Am I flattered? Maybe, I'm not quite sure what to make of the situation. How did I know that this woman with flowing brown hair was a man? Adam's Apple and what looked to me as a missed spot shaving.
I was eating a burger, veggie patty, with steamed vegetables instead of fries. He/she ordered maybe the grossest burger we have. It contains two beef patties about 2 inches thick, lettuce, cheese, fried onions, bacon, chili and some other heart stopping items. Also, he/she had fries with cheese on them.
I was drinking water, one of the eight I drink a day. By the end of my meal had about 3 glasses of water. He/she was drinking a 24 oz. beer. By the end of his/her meal she had two, a grand total of 48 oz of beer.
I was reading from a newspaper that a customer left behind. He/she watched the television and discussed the RBI average of some dude with the bartender Mike.
We began talking and I realized that he/she was a city councilman and local business owner. I forgot which one or I would tell you. An intelligent man/woman. We discussed Obama's New health care plan and Oprah leaving television in 2012. As I left He/She complimented my shoes.
As I returned to work, as a host at a restaurant. I reflected on the last 20 minutes of my life and wondered who was more of a man? This dress and high heel wearing man/woman. Or the 24 year old host, who had steamed vegetables and read the Wall Street Journal.
I lead an odd life.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Weezer, as the soundtrack to my life
I may or may not be behind the ball. In the last 3 months whenever I emerge from under the mountain homework that is before me it is for two reasons:
1. Go to the bathroom.
2. Eat some lunch
My life has become extremely cyclical. But, during one of my longer lunch breaks I realized that Weezer put out a new album. I know what you are thinking. "Didn't they just put out a mediocre 'Red' album?" Yes, yes they did. But, to my joy they released, Raditude.
I really haven't the slightest who reads this glorified vomit from my mouth masquerading as a blog, but Weezer has been a mainstay for me for quite some time. I remember hearing their first release, the Blue Album, I wasn't quite sure what I discovered. I knew it was good, but could not describe why. His lyrics were so playful and weird. The music was a perfect match. No presumptions, simply a rock band.
I could write all day about each album and why I like each one in detail. But, I will spare you. I just want to talk about their newest offering. Raditude, in contrast to the Red Album, this feels more like a proper album. It has a flow and the songs are a lot more accessible.
As much I like to pretend that I am Post-modern, leaving order and embracing chaos in all things, I am a sucker for bullet points and a good thesis statement.
This new album is a solid Pop Album. If you are above pop music then, my friend, come down here with us peasants, you are missing out. Catchy lyrics, equally addicting guitar licks. I don't know anyone that can say no to that. And since our beloved King of Pop is no longer with us, we have to make due with what we have.
In closing, I simply want to leave you with this nugget:
Oh, I can't stop partying, partying I can't stop, partying, partying I gotta have the cars, I gotta have the jewels and if you was me, honey, you would do it too Monday to Sunday I hit all the clubs And everybody know me when I pull up I got the real big posse with me, yeah I'm deep And if u lookin for me I'm in vip
Also, in case you were wondering, these are the actual lyrics as they are written. I'm not sure if someone should thank Ebonics or AIM, either way it only makes it better.
1. Go to the bathroom.
2. Eat some lunch
My life has become extremely cyclical. But, during one of my longer lunch breaks I realized that Weezer put out a new album. I know what you are thinking. "Didn't they just put out a mediocre 'Red' album?" Yes, yes they did. But, to my joy they released, Raditude.
I really haven't the slightest who reads this glorified vomit from my mouth masquerading as a blog, but Weezer has been a mainstay for me for quite some time. I remember hearing their first release, the Blue Album, I wasn't quite sure what I discovered. I knew it was good, but could not describe why. His lyrics were so playful and weird. The music was a perfect match. No presumptions, simply a rock band.
I could write all day about each album and why I like each one in detail. But, I will spare you. I just want to talk about their newest offering. Raditude, in contrast to the Red Album, this feels more like a proper album. It has a flow and the songs are a lot more accessible.As much I like to pretend that I am Post-modern, leaving order and embracing chaos in all things, I am a sucker for bullet points and a good thesis statement.
This new album is a solid Pop Album. If you are above pop music then, my friend, come down here with us peasants, you are missing out. Catchy lyrics, equally addicting guitar licks. I don't know anyone that can say no to that. And since our beloved King of Pop is no longer with us, we have to make due with what we have.
In closing, I simply want to leave you with this nugget:
Oh, I can't stop partying, partying I can't stop, partying, partying I gotta have the cars, I gotta have the jewels and if you was me, honey, you would do it too Monday to Sunday I hit all the clubs And everybody know me when I pull up I got the real big posse with me, yeah I'm deep And if u lookin for me I'm in vip
Also, in case you were wondering, these are the actual lyrics as they are written. I'm not sure if someone should thank Ebonics or AIM, either way it only makes it better.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Hypochondria
I have decided to run a 5k. Before your super impressed by my athletic prowess you should probably know that it is 3.1 miles. Every "runner" that I talk to about a 5k acts so casual about it. Occasionally, they are even ashamed by their participation. They say things like; "I'm doing it for charity", "This is my off year from a marathon", "I needed to something to do with my saturday morning at 7am". Regardless, my goal is to do one of these in the next year. Here's the problem.
Last week I decided I would try and run the distance of a 5k (3.1 miles) and just see how I stacked up. If I walked some of it, no big deal. I can work up to it. I'm in no hurry. There is a track near my house, conveniently enough, is 3.1 miles. Perfect!
To my delight, I ran it and did not stop. I'm a champion! What's even better is that I did not feel like I was going to die. Of course my body felt like it just ran three miles but I did not throw up on the track. Runner's don't like that.
The next day I went to work. And by work I mean hosting for a Burger and Beer restaurant. Maybe the most mindless thing I could ever do with my time. I don't want to belittle the world of hosting in general, I'm sure in some restaurants it takes skill and possibly a degree, but at Islands, if your breathing your a professional host or hostess. Without hosts and hostesses what would high school girls do when they are not babysitting? Anyway, while I was at work my right foot began to hurt. As the night progressed it went from a slight pain to, "Oh my dear God is someone stabbing my foot?!" When I was finally allowed to go home I immediately went looking for a diagnosis.Thank you WebMd. This website is the single most terrifying site I have encountered. I simply searched foot pain and I spent the next hour reading about all the possible problems with my foot. Apparently, if I am not careful, I could ruin my foot, have it removed and possibly be handicapped for life. Instead of help I developed a healthy dose of paranoia and have not run since my "diagnosis".
Today, I looked up hypochondria at dictionary.com and it defined it as; an excessive preoccupation with one's health, usually focusing on some particular symptom, as cardiac or gastric problems. Based on that definition I realized that I could be a hypochondriac. This whole week I have been obsessed with my foot. Testing it under ludicrous conditions that I would never encounter. Thinking in my head, if I walk at a brisk pace on this uneven sidewalk and there is no pain or problem I am healed. If I jump up and down violently on these steps and there is no pain than I am OK. If I drop this microwave on my ankle and I can still walk after then I'm ready for an Iron-man.
Based on my scientific tests and an inordinate amount of over the counter pain relievers, I think I'm better.
In other news I still have way to much homework for an individual to accomplish in a given week. In protest I decided to take today off and walk around the Apple Store and Barnes and Noble. That'll show them. Also, my new favorite show is The Big Bang Theory. Give it a chance, its awkward science geeks talking to pretty blondes (sp?). Who doesn't love that? I know I do.
Last week I decided I would try and run the distance of a 5k (3.1 miles) and just see how I stacked up. If I walked some of it, no big deal. I can work up to it. I'm in no hurry. There is a track near my house, conveniently enough, is 3.1 miles. Perfect!
To my delight, I ran it and did not stop. I'm a champion! What's even better is that I did not feel like I was going to die. Of course my body felt like it just ran three miles but I did not throw up on the track. Runner's don't like that.
The next day I went to work. And by work I mean hosting for a Burger and Beer restaurant. Maybe the most mindless thing I could ever do with my time. I don't want to belittle the world of hosting in general, I'm sure in some restaurants it takes skill and possibly a degree, but at Islands, if your breathing your a professional host or hostess. Without hosts and hostesses what would high school girls do when they are not babysitting? Anyway, while I was at work my right foot began to hurt. As the night progressed it went from a slight pain to, "Oh my dear God is someone stabbing my foot?!" When I was finally allowed to go home I immediately went looking for a diagnosis.Thank you WebMd. This website is the single most terrifying site I have encountered. I simply searched foot pain and I spent the next hour reading about all the possible problems with my foot. Apparently, if I am not careful, I could ruin my foot, have it removed and possibly be handicapped for life. Instead of help I developed a healthy dose of paranoia and have not run since my "diagnosis".
Today, I looked up hypochondria at dictionary.com and it defined it as; an excessive preoccupation with one's health, usually focusing on some particular symptom, as cardiac or gastric problems. Based on that definition I realized that I could be a hypochondriac. This whole week I have been obsessed with my foot. Testing it under ludicrous conditions that I would never encounter. Thinking in my head, if I walk at a brisk pace on this uneven sidewalk and there is no pain or problem I am healed. If I jump up and down violently on these steps and there is no pain than I am OK. If I drop this microwave on my ankle and I can still walk after then I'm ready for an Iron-man.
Based on my scientific tests and an inordinate amount of over the counter pain relievers, I think I'm better.
In other news I still have way to much homework for an individual to accomplish in a given week. In protest I decided to take today off and walk around the Apple Store and Barnes and Noble. That'll show them. Also, my new favorite show is The Big Bang Theory. Give it a chance, its awkward science geeks talking to pretty blondes (sp?). Who doesn't love that? I know I do.
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