this pen is rrrrrrrrrrrrrroyal blue!

It's taken me almost two years in the "real world" to learn that some of the old schemes I used to use won't fly anymore. Back in school I was a major procrastinator; I mean major. Not only a procrastinator, but often times I didn't hand things in. That's how bad it was.

Some of those habits are following me. That's predominantly why I'm blogging now; because I'm procrastinating in something else.

A lesson that I often get faced with but haven't learned yet is the fact that problems and issues are internal; external changes won't solve them. If you have a lying problem, moving out of state will not fix said problem. It will still be there.

I'm too stubborn to learn this lesson. The deeper I dig myself, the more I deny this problem.

Open Hours

I've been really challenged emotionally lately, and my reaction is to close up all the more. Not always; I've had good days. But it's still easier to close up.

Life wasn't meant to be lived alone. This is something I've been told, believe, and tell others. Yet, I don't practice. I can't believe how closed I can been--not letting others into my life and goings-on. How did the kids everyone called, "friendly" "outgoing" & "open" become a man that is so emotionally alone?

Maybe I am being too hard on myself. Maybe I am not giving myself enough credit. I don't know. It's a complicated thing because in some things I'm open, and in others I'm as closed as ever.

Hopefully I'll have something more cheery to post next time.

why so serious?

I took a deep dive into the past this week. I've read a great deal of blog posts from college spanning over two years. Lots of ups and downs.

It's been a rough year so far. 2010 has delivered quite the one-two punch. I'm going to counseling next week -- my first time. I'm a little nervous, but eager to talk to someone who might know a thing or two about what I'm dealing with.

When did life get so serious?

I feel transplanted from the people I feel comfortable opening up to and plopped amidst people who want me to be open with them. It's a two way street.

I miss the humor that saturated my life, conversations, and thoughts.

Chase 130

When we graduated college and spread out, we said the only time we'd see each other was at our weddings. None of us figured a funeral would do the same.

We all thought he'd come around. At least we'll all hoped he would.

I've never had someone this close to me die. I lived with him for a year. Now I'll never see him again. Not in this life.

Lame Duck Week

Christmas and New Years are a week apart to the day. To me this week is unlike any other during the year.

I'm in my office. None of my six coworkers are here. I'm not listening to Christmas music, like I have been for a few weeks straight. I'm working on my schedule for next year.

This is a lame duck week. It's a forgone conclusion. 2010 has started, but the calendar still says 2009. I'm ready for the new year, with its new opportunities and its fresh start. But I'm still in this year, with its thoughts of failure and "what could've been".

There are many changes I want to make in 2010; changes to my daily, weekly, and monthly routines. However, my attitude is "it's still 2009, I'll start those next week."

Why do I need checkpoints, landmarks, and turning points to improve myself? Why can't I change now? No, I rely on artificial time markers as if they, themselves, are what makes me improve.

I do. I do. I don't.

Was I ever meant to understand love? I can't wrap my mind around how one becomes selfless. I am so selfish. I cannot forfeit my own needs and wants to benefit someone else.

A famous writer once wrote that he did not understand what he does. He doesn't do the good he intends and fails to do the good he knows. He has no control over his actions.

I relate to that more than anything I can think of relating to (...in which to relate). So I identify with him. Now what? What are the steps to dealing with this problem or solving this situation?

I'm stuck in this cycle and don't know the proper way out. I can't think of a way to not end that with a preposition.

Christmas Presence

I've gotten into Christmas more this year than ever. The past few years I told myself I would really contemplate the true meaning of Christmas by by the third week of December I fell into the excitements of presents and stuff I'm getting.

I'm one of those people that likes to blast Christmas m

usic on the drive home from Thanksgiving, before it is even December. I've got every Christmas song released by Sufjan, Relient k, as well as a hefty collection of old school tunes (like Bing Crosby, Ella Fitgerald, Nat King Cole, Sinatra, Elvis, etc.), and some Charlie Brown representation.

We're at the start of week two, and all is calm, all is bright. I'm looking under my tree, seeing a dozen gifts wrapped in red and green paper. I'm fighting the urge to bend down and read who they are for, not to mention picking them up and shaking them. I've already been warned by my wife not to do that.

To me, Christmas is the celebration of Christ's birth--the signification that God loves us so much that he gave up the perfection, purity, and awesomeness of heaven to come down here to chill with us. Big deal? Yes. Coming to earth, Jesus faced all the imperfections this world has to offer--sickness, hunger, tiredness, betrayal, temptation--in a word: sin.

Yet, he never screwed up. I screw up all the time. But he didn't. That's why I get to celebrate Christmas.