Two Lefts don't make a Right, but Three do.

Tonight, I'm in a curious mood. I can't explain what I feel at the moment. It's a mixture of nostalgia, a tinge of sadness, fear of the future, and inexplicable joy. I want extrapolate on all four emotions, but yet, I cannot give clear reasons why I feel the way I feel. As I sit here in the darkness, my roommate Curtis peacefully slumbering away, I decided there's nothing better than just writing in a blog, to a readership that probably only comprises of three people (including me) who may or may not care about my thoughts or what I have to say.

I remember a time right after high school graduation. Spirits were high. I mean, we were graduated! Finally out of high school, out of our parents' clutches, ripe for college, ready to finally grow up and move on. For me, high school senior year and the subsequent summer meant growing even closer to my best friends and spending all the time in the world with them. I recall endless summer nights spent sitting in my car, listening to Relient K, hitting up Starbucks for a late night green tea frapp, or laughing for no reason. It sounds like a setting for a lame high school drama, but man, this was the LIFE.

What was looming over our heads, however, was going to college. We all acknowledged and frequently discussed the topic. Yes, things were never going to be the same. BUT, we were going to stay tight, keep in touch, and always love each other. Don't worry. Don't let fear of the future ruin the fun now. The lesson of the summer: Thoroughly enjoy the time you have with each other, carpe diem status, and cherish the memories. Maybe even remember them tearfully and fondly 2 years later, sitting in a dark room typing on a lame blog.

I remember typing a blog entry once. It can be read HERE. Oh, looking back, how afraid I was. How strangely confident I was, stepping into the unknown and letting God take me places I couldn't even imagine. Most importantly, looking back, I realize how foolish I was, even thinking college was the final chapter. In my head and writings, it's evident I thought of college as the final test before "real life". 2 years in, I realize college is just as much of a bubble as high school was. College is considered, by many, to be the best times in life. I couldn't agree more. Which is why I'm convinced that I still know so little about this world and its workings, and why I am more afraid than I was in high school.

I miss my friends, I really do. I'm starting to sound like a "Story of the Year" album on repeat, but the memories keep me alive. They made me who I am. Thinking back, I can't help but smile. Even if now, things aren't the same or we don't keep in touch anymore, I remind myself of something someone wise once told me.

People come and go. Some people are meant to come for only a brief moment of your life and change you, then leave. Others will remain with you for the rest of your days. Every person you encounter is significant to your growth, even if they only play a very minor role in your life.

With this, I end.

Why I want to be what I want to be.

An excerpt from Kay Redfield Jamison's memoir on her road to recovery from bipolar disorder and manic depression:

"The debt I owe my psychiatrist is beyond description. I remember sitting in his office a hundred times during those grim months and each time thinking, What on earth can he say that will make me feel better or keep me alive? Well, there never was anything he could say, that's the funny thing. It was all the stupid, desperately optimistic, condescending things he DIDN'T say that kept me alive; all the compassion and warmth I felt from him that could not have been said; all the intelligence, competence, and time he put into it; and his granite belief that mine was a life worth living.

He was terribly direct, which was terribly important, and he was willing to admit the limits of his understanding and treatments and when he was wrong. Most difficult to put into words, but in many ways the essence of everything: he taught me that the road from suicide to life is cold and colder and colder still, but -- with steely effort, the grace of God, and an inevitable break in the weather -- that I could make it."

Quick Thoughts Before Class

1. I am going broke. Fast.
2. But yet, I work so much.
3. My rate of spending is significantly more than my rate of earning.

4. I must have 4.95 prime rib.

5. I like this summer.

Chinese Democracy

Take out Chinese food two days in a row does not bode well for your stomach NOR for your general health. Someone should do a "Supersize Me" with take out Chinese. THAT'S where the real killer is.

Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

The past three days, I've been suffering from a number of symptoms. I've had headaches, fatigue, a bit of nausea, and pain in the eyeballs (can you believe it?) It's not just that my eyes hurt, the muscles strapped around my eyeball hurt.

Before tonight, I was oblivious to as why I have these symptoms. But after a little bit of Google magic, I realized I had CAFFEINE WITHDRAWALS. I used to drink coffee every day and love every single cup. I haven't had coffee for about 5 days. I put two and two together and now it all makes sense.

Although I was in pain, I managed to rush out the door to drive to Peet's, chanting "COFFEE!!!!!" like a madman.

And I got my cup o' Joe. And now, the pain is gone.

I am a coffee addict.


The most cliche coffee image ever.

Fall for Anything

Summer is a good time for a CSO. It's those 2 months that I get to work night shifts (9 pm to 5 am) and pretty much have all that time to myself. Needless to say, I get paid a lot for working "graveyard" shifts. For example, last night, I played Hero of Sparta on my iTouch, enjoyed Chris Caffeineman's company, watched Corpse Bride, and created my extensive and detailed schedule on my Sunbird calendar program.

Tonight, I decided to bring along my PSYC 125 course reader and some study guides to read until 11 PM (that's when we're "allowed" to bust out our laptops). I read some, then at 11 PM, I whipped out my laptop and watched hours of Scrubs and then researched potential future careers in the field that I am currently pursuing.

So, what's the point? Working these long hours in the dark, sitting outside in the terrace part of OVT, I find a lot of time for myself. I find that there is almost an unbearable surplus of time that I can sit here to think about whatever I want to think about and do whatever I want to do. I could buy a Rosetta Stone program or a book or something and learn French. I could practice watercolour painting every time I work and become a watercolour master by the end of summer. My head spins when I think about this time that is so free, so open. It's so paradoxical because most of us WISH we had all the time in the world to do things; like I do now.

Tonight was peculiar. In my reader, I read "A Glass full of Tears". Intrigued by the somewhat melancholy, depressing title, I started reading a memoir by June Lund Shiplett about coping and living with her husband diagnosed with vascular/multi-infarct dementia, an illness that destroys brain cells. It's kind of like Alzheimer's, but worse.

Dementia turned her husband, Charlie, into a highly irrational human being who often forget where he was or who he was. He became plagued with crazy paranoid thoughts that worried June, and he would become infuriated and abusive if she disagreed or tried to be rational. Charlie's dementia grew more severe as the months went by and he became increasingly dangerous. There came a point where June had to admit defeat and "let go" of Charlie to be taken care of by professionals.

What stuck out to me was her love for her husband. Mentioned often in the article was June talking about how Charlie was constantly verbally abusing her or even swinging at her in violence. Other days, Charlie was completely normal and himself, joking around and smiling. This was the man she loved. The other Charlie, the one inflicted with dementia, was a stranger; so cold and so detestable. Her dedication to her husband, despite the sheer difficulty of dealing and living with him, is admirable and amazing. June doubted God often, questioning His purpose and plan. But in the end, her love for Charlie was so deep.

I'll leave with this quote in her memoir:

"....And I think the best way is to stick out your chin, keep your faith, and a heart full of love. I've learned that I'm stronger than I thought I was and that love is one of the strongest emotions we have as human beings. Love is not just wanting to be with someone all the time, and it isn't just the physical excitement and touching, it's sharing who and what you are with that other person. It's giving yourself unconditionally, without thought to reward. It's hanging on when you don't think you can possibly hang on any longer."

Broken Toy

The end of my finals week is the same as the end of last year's finals week. It's that time of year when I probably gain the most weight. It's the time of year when I'm most tired and most frustrated with every little detail of my life. It's that time of year when I'm most likely to explode on someone or something.

Brand New put it best, I feel like a toy whose batteries have run dry. And I need renewal. I have two weeks to rest in between finals week and my first week of summer session. Once summer session starts, the onslaught of my two jobs and schoolwork will commence.

I need recharge!