Woah, life is for sure happening right now...

All the sudden things are taking off left, right, up, down, backwards… woah! School started two weeks ago and already stress is high. Hours are cut at Lunds, which is great because now that I don't feel like a live there I can provide something similar to decent customer service ;)
Also, tonight was the new Cosmic's training night/pseudo grand opening. Because we havn't yet passed health inspection we couldn't legally sell anything, but we sure can give shit away! So we made mochas, smoothies, shakes, and chais all night long. The remodel looks FAN-fucking-tastic. Hardly recognizable. Two 50' flat screen TVs, new booths, new floors, new patio, new register (one that actually works), and a semi-new staff that is excited to get things off the ground! Really, can't wait for things to get set in a groove.
Back to school - very interesting material (what is not to like about pharmacology?!?), small classes, spunky and knowledgable teachers. There is only one thing, and it has more to do with me than anyone else. It is going to be super hard NOT to yell at a few of the people in my class... they are what i would describe as "over-sharers". Don't get me wrong, it is GREAT that you have something more to bring to the table as far as personal experience - but i DO NOT want to know about your own personal recovery, or the fact that your daughter is a crack addict who isn't smoking crack but thinks she can drink normally, and i SURE as hell don't care about what you think of perscriptions for those with mental illness in early recovery. I just DON'T need to know that much about you. I would understand perfectly if you put it hypothetically - there is no need to make it impossible for me to respond/say anything relating back to your stories without sounding like a douche bag, or pissing you off. It is too personal, ya know? I don't want to give you unsolicited advice, or try and assess your life. That is why YOU see a counselor, or why YOU take the time out of your day to talk to someone who can DO something about it. Just all around uncomfortable.

Time-management is going to be stupid difficult this semester. Working 20 hours at Cosmics, 12-15 at Lunds, in class Monday and Wednesday Nights 6-930, and maybe meetings in there? A sponsee perhaps?
Life is happening. and I am soooo greatful it is.

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The Northern Shore

Long time, no type blogosphere!

I honestly don't remember the last time I updated you all! (you all=the 6 who are officially "following" me).

Right now I am sitting in a hotel room with my parents and brother (who are all asleep) in Silver Bay, MN along Lake Superior. Weather is beautiful, breeze is splendid, restaurants are phenomenal. The perfect way to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Tonight I ate Caribou for the first time, and boy was that a treat. Tender, shredded goodness matched with a fine gouda and butter on wild rice bread - scrumptious!! Top that off with a 1919 Rootbeer Float and you are ready for a 5 star nap!

That is all that has been going on in the very recent past.

But, since it has been 2+ months since I last updated, I should mention that I finally cut my hours at Lunds, and went Prime Time Part Time, meaning: I can not work more than 20 hours a week, can only work Thursday-Sunday, and do not get Health/Retirement Benefits. But in that package of semi-negatives, there are a few good things. I will be getting paid four bucks more than before, and I will have more time to do WHATEVER I WAAAAANT. Which is sleep, eat, poop, eat, sleep, poop, poop, sleep, eat, and then spend every other waking hour either with Claire before she leaves for the UK, or at Caribou to maintain my Mayorship.

Other than this - and excluding romances (which are non existent at the time) - my life is perfect.

Cash will soon be low, and coffee/smokes will be scarce... but we shall carry on, Friends.

Hello, and Goodnight.

"Thats what you get when you let your heart win, whooooooooaaaaaaaa-oooo-ooooo"

-Paramore

Grandpa Max

I recieved this picture in an email from Gerri after a talk about how she came upon this blog while googling both herself and my Grandfather. It was a little spine tingling - until i remembered that you can find anything you want on the internet. I am very happy she discovered it, because as it turns out there was a lot we had in common and much to talk about that had until then gone unsaid.

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So I am just recovering from what people call a "summer cold". Uhhh, what?! That shit is too contradictory, even for me. I can go all winter getting only one tiny cold, but as soon as it gets nice out my throat feels like it is a bed of hot coals and may close completely at any second, and my entire body aches. As far as I am concerned, there is no worse feeling than having an aching body without doing any kind of physical activity. It is almost enough to make me want to be active - until I remember what that involves: getting off the internet, putting on something other than terribly matched plaid and horizontal stripped shirts with obnoxiously colorful/dirty worn out shoes that are hardly suitable for walking, let alone exercising.

Then I recall the one and only experience I have at a gym as an actual member. I got a membership at LA Fitness not long after new years, not as a New Year's Resolution, but just because that happened to be when I had the money/motivation to go in and do the minor paper work involved. I didn't go for the first week, but then decided to go to a spin class with my friend Ashley, who I had made a deal with to be exercise partners with. Now, for someone who has played some sports before in the past, from community league soccer ( I quit T-ball after they took the tee away) to JV Tennis (my sophomore year of HS to keep me 'out of trouble'), I was no where near mentally prepared for a spin class. Me and Ashley are stretching for a bit before the class starts, and I am busy observing the other people who would be cycling. So far, no indication I am out of my league. In fact, there are a few people I am sure were over the age of 65; I could totally do this.

We get settled on cycles, doing a little warm up stuff, so far so good. Just like riding a bike, eh? Well, then the music starts bumping and the lady from behind the front counter (who happens to be more than a little intimidating and VERY intense) grabs the bike meant for the leader/instructor person. She tells us to put the resistance of the bikes at 90 degrees and to "Go, go, go! You can do it guys, Just thirty more second then we'll lower it to 45!".

Uhhhh, WHAT?! Thirty second?! 90 degrees?! No, I can not even move the pedals at 90 degrees. But I am not going to punk out in the first thirty second. It was only a half hour class right? Wrong. Ashley told me half way through it was 45 minutes. That was a lie too!! The shit was one hour long, and it only got worse. We were going from sitting, to standing, to pedaling as hard as we can, to "taking it easy" (which is hard to do when the whole time you have been gasping for air from the get go). By the end I was simply sitting on my bike, no resistance, but pedaling, trying to keep from throwing up. The 65 year old next to me was still going strong, and apparently didn't want the class to end.

Lesson learned: Exercise is actually bad for you. Especially cycling.

Needless to say I did not return to LA Fitness. Ever. To this day. I get shivers thinking about it.

Now, after hopefully not overdosing on Ricola and ice cream, I bid you ado. Adue? Ahh-dooh. Pfft, the French.

"I think we're going crazy. Her left eye is lazy. She looks so Israeli. Nicotine and Gravy." -Beck

ПРАВДА

Warning: This is going to be an especially long posting due to the fact that I am sitting in the car with my parents for the next three and a half hours.

The cousin closest to me in age had his grad party last night at his mom's place in Chokio, MN which happens to be a three and a half hour drive from St. Paul. Not too bad at all, I just slept the entire way. Upon arriving we ate delicious pork sandwiches, and I helped myself to a fistfull of RedVines!!! I can't understand why I love them so much seeing as how they taste like fake licorice. But maybe every other licorice candy are the fake tasting ones?! We can can ponder this later; Now on to more important issues...

I just wanted to take a minute to give my little cousin Sydney (who doesn't read this... Hopefully) a shout out. She is about to be thirteen and has nearly as much sass as I did myself was I was that age. It was so great to be able to call her out on it, and also throw the whole "I'm an adult, I know what I am talking about" BS at her and have her buy it. But actually. Is was crazy to see how much she and her brother and their older sisters have grown up in the past couple years.

After eating too many redvines and pork I laid my head down on the davenport for a few minutes to catch some more Z's. Good thing I did too, my mother woke me up saying that we were going to head over to Grandma's place a few towns over in Clinton, MN, but not to worry because we were going to return later for the Chokio Street Dance. Ho boy. I decided that it was neither the time nor the place to display my "joy" concerning said street dance, and held my tongue. Nodding and smiling, if course.

When we got back to Grandma's I immediatly went to sleep more (I was really really tired this weekend, my first one off in months) and was awoken some hours later my the rapping of my mother's nails on the bedroom door. My mother is a very smart women, but you would think that after the first five times she told me they were going and getting no reaction from me she woulda left me to sleep. Not my mama. Leavin out the lengthy details, I ended up going to the street dance.

Now, the street dances my parents remember from their youth really do sound fun, but I bet they did not go with their parents, and they were enjoying adult beverages. Not only was I there with my parents, but I was sober (thank god). And not that it was torture, people watching was great. Not my crowd though. And I hate when I talk about country people being different and people assume I mean stupid. Some of the smartest people I have ever met have been farmers, sons and daughters of farmers, or just small town residence. But the fact of the matter is, being a city boy in a town of 443, hanging out with the parents at a street dance, we stuck out. By the end of the night there I really wish I has grown up in a small town. It is amazing how small and singular you can feel in the cities. I am sure you can feel it in the country too. But it seems so much more together and homey. I have an appreciation for the difference in lifestyles between a country residence or a city sliker, whether it is a concious different choice or otherwise.
That make sense? Good.

My grandma's church celebrated 125 years of being a congragation. It was the church my mom as baptized in, confirmed in, married in, the church my grandpa's funeral was in. I have a lot of memories going there with my grandparents when I would spend the week with them in the summer. We have a coffee mug from the church's 100th anniversary, and I was slightly dissapointed not to see any for sale this time. It also made me sad when my mom said it probably wouldn't be there in six to ten years because the congragational average age is no lower than sixty. That would be so so sad if they ha to just stop after so long. It would just become another abandoned building along the side of the road, waitin for time to eat it up and history to forget it.
Just like the rest of us, right?


"I love my baby mamas. They get my highway honors, gotta take care if them kids, like President Obama" -Lil Wayne

She's got both hands in her pockets...

I listened to part of Alejandro in the car with my parents on our way west. I think after bout a minute my dad subconciously turned it off because there is magically no more music, haaaaahahah.
Last night was so strange! I hung out with Claire, Mollie, and Mollie's friend Anna at this coffee shop called The Coffee Grounds (potential new hang out) and listened to this band called I Like You. It was one ukelayle, drums, two guitars, and one upward bass. I don't know how I would describe the genre they are in, but it was a very happy go lucky dancy skits. Mollie and Anna had met the upward bass player at this "hippie camp" in Arkansas right before those crazy killer floods started going on over there. He was pretty hilarious, and together the entire band was just so goofy, but I could for sure take them seriously. The drummer wore tie-dye overalls and had a GIANT JewFro.
When I went out for a smoke with Claire in tail, we were soon follwed by the drummer, whose name is David, and he invited us to a party that I Like You was going to play at after the coffee shop. It was less than a block and a half from Steph's house, and belonged to a guy who went to central and it was his brother's birthday. We decided since we had nothing else to do we might as well at least stop by.
Upon arriving to the party we all became I Like You groupies/roadies. Meaning we helped carry the drum set inside and a few amps. Basically it was a really small house with wayyyy to many drunk kids and wayyy to many hipsters. Then the music started and we had wayyy to many drunk, dancing hipsters. There were Kai a lot of people from central that had graduated 2007, but in particular there ws a girl that I recognized but didn't really know. She came up to me and started telling me that when I was fifteen I was hanging out at treasure island playground stealing bikes and putting them in the back of an SUV, and somehow caused her and her friends to be accosted by the police! I guess I dissapeared and her and her friends ran into me again down at the monument by the river an I was talking about how I had been doin some dumb shit. Now, it is very possible that something SIMILAR to this maybe happened, but it sure as hell was not me and she forsure did not believe me when I told her it was not me. There were plenty of times I could have been completely blacked out and I wouldn't remember it, but I am 99%sure that A) that never happened and B) was not me.
Basically things only got stranger, but in sum it was a great night!!

It Ends Tonight

GeoTagged, [N44.94685, E93.16715]

Tonight was the last night of Cosmics Coffee as I have always known it. Freddy certainly did deliver when he said that he would go out with a bang; I would estimate probably 200 people over the course of sox hours (which I feel is more than we usually get in a month). So much food, too many espresso shots, I felt as if I was drunk. Made a fool of myself as if I WERE drunk. Kissed so many people, danced on the bar, and smoked a cigarette inside after the clock struck one and it was officially over.
I really have no idea where I would be without that shop. Probably not in school or sober.
I talked to my personal psychic ( ;] ) tonight. With all these random psuedo-relationships/random hook ups it would seem I am trying to find validation or definition as to who I am or who I want to be. I need to focus on me, and not what other people can bring to my life to make it worth wild. It is good to know I am on re right track, and that grandp Max is alright, happy, and always with me.
My life us better than I ever could have imagined. So I have decided I am going to start living it and not spend so much time trying to CREATE or will what I think I want.

Love you all, friendos.

The Grand Hookah

So tonight I left Cosmics around 10:00 because Freddy is closing wednesday and I do not feel like working tonight.

I stopped by the DQ and had a fantastic chat with Julia - that bitch is funny as hell. Turns out her sister and my brother are friends and she saw him at a party the other day. It is so weird, all the connections there are between my brother's class and mine. The Spencers, Cohens, Sporers trifecta!

After getting a terrified look from the boy who works there that I thought was interested (but was not) I thought it best that I head out. I met up with Rob and a few of the other folks from Cosmics at Grand Hookah. Basically, I am in love with this place. Not only is it open late as hell on the weekends, but there is free wi-fi, and you can smoke INSIDE. For someone from my generation that is such a rare thing - smoking inside. Although there is no food to buy or anything, still worth the money and fun you have.

They play a lot of Lil Wayne here, which means Claire will LOVE it.

I have decided I REALLY need to not pursue a relationship until I have at least two years sober. Nothing has gone well with any attempts or opportunities that have come up so far, and I am sick of putting effort into it. Someone will come along eventually, and when they do I will be optimally available for them. It isn't fair for anyone to deal with my Bullshit thinking. Right now, I am lacking any kind of conscious contact and it is not good.

Rob wants to play dominos! Stay fly, folks.

"But ya know it aint trickin if you got it" -Weezy F. Baby

The Worst 24 Hour Period In Recent Memory

Cosmics is closing. And I can't explain how upset I am.

I did something I knew I probably shouldn't, because I really wanted to. And because I did it for that reason, of course it didn't work out.

This guy I was interested in, had a great time with, had a lot of laughs with, decided we should just be friends. And because I am like a full stick of butter on half a piece of toast when it comes to liking someone. I become over excited, and perhaps clingy (when that is the last thing I would want to do). Not that I loved this guy after knowing him a week [make that mistake once, you won't make it again]. But it sucks when you are interested in someone, see it even potentially going somewhere, then without good reason it stops dead in it's tracks.

I am just waiting for the third thing to come along; you know, the rule of three. First Cosmics, then the boy, and now what? Call it negative thinking, or a self-fulfilling prophecy, either way I will let you all know what it is as soon as it happens.

I need to open my mind and be more receptive to my higher power's will and way for me. Every time I take the reigns in any way shape or form, I end up hurt or someone else around me does. It is selfish.

I need a meeting.

The Day I slept Past Noon....

Today was perhaps the first time in nearly nine months I have slept past the noon hour. Needless to say it was. Amazing. Tossed the covers off my sweat soaked body and sat up slowly in my bed. I looked around groggily, wondering where the fuck I was. Not because I was hungover or had recently been hit over the head with a 2 by 4, but because it was so FUCKING muggy!! Seriously, even as I became conscious of my body and the matter surrounding it I was lost. Don't get me wrong, I love the spring time in Minnesota, but JesusFuckingChrist. I was asleep, not moving, yet I was drenched as though I had run a minute mile.

Needless to say it took me a little while to adjust to our current weather.

After showering and putting on a few items of clothing as possible, meandered down stairs to have lunch with my mother and father. They were grilling burgers, yippee!! They wanted to eat it on the back patio...... eff no, thanks though. I ate on the couch by myself in front of the newly returned window unit I know and love so dearly.

I spent thirty minutes trying to find the FAFSA forms online for the 2010-2011 school year, only to realize it was right in front of me. A+ for smartness!!

I realized how much I appreciate the people I have in my life. Whenever I am feeling down and out, or shitty in general, they come along to pick me up and carry me if need be. Had I not found this herd I would have remained disparaged, ornery, lonesome, wet in the brain, and hollow in my chest. I now have a head full of recovery, and a stomach free of poison. What can I do with it? Help others!

I decided not to long ago that there was no reason to remain at SPC and transferred to Metro State to get my B.S. in Alcohol and Drug Counseling. Not that I can really promote the fellowship/program in that field directly, but it is the kind of work I know I can remain passionate about. Isn't that the point of work and having a career? To find something you are passionate about and run as far as you can?

Who knows what life has in store for me! I certainly don't.

If I had had my way, I wouldn't be here right now.

Let go

&

Let God/HP/Whatever.

Exploding Inside!

So. I dropped the ball big time this semester. So far three C's and an F.

Really?! An F in an art class. Where all I had to do was go to different locations and write about them. The teacher seemed to like what I wrote. I missed maybe 5 of the 15 site visits, and getting at least a B on the ones that I did turn in. I don't get it.

I made a faux-pa by e-mailing her the wrong essay with a different story concerning an extension I had on one... both stories were true, I just got caught up in the rush of finals and the plethora of papers I had to complete.

But, I am over it. I have decided for sure a direction in my life.

I am transferring to Metropolitan State University to pursue my Bachelor's Degree in Alcohol and Drug Counseling! I have known for a while that this is what I wanted to do with my life. After looking at my credits earned at SPC, I realized that because I had completed almost all of the transfer curriculum, and they did not offer my intended major of A&D Counseling, there was little point in my staying there for any longer. After my summer math class I am done there, and ready to move on. All I need is a few humanities credits (due to the bomb I dropped this semester).

I suddenly became very unmotivated to Blog about anything, for the moment.

Keep coming back, I just might say something worth hearing!!

Give me a Minute to Win It!

So I just sent an email in to NBC stating my interest in being on their new show "Minute To Win It". I have never wanted anything so bad in my life, I would totally KILL that shit. Freddy started this new thing thursday nights at Cosmics where you can win a free drink by completing one of the Minute To Win It tasks. Needless to say I was not able to complete the task... but it was a lot harder than the ones on the TV show usually are! You had to blow all but one playing card off the top of a root beer bottle in less than sixty seconds. Harder than it sounds.

I totally spaced tonight and when I got off work at two I went home to take a nap. I ended up waking up at 8:30 instead of around six to go to Claire's for dinner. I felt terrible!! I am going to have to make it up to her BIGTIME!!

Ended up stopping by Grace Moran's house for a short visit, saw some people I have not seen in a long time, it was fantastic!

I started listening to RadioLab's podcasts because my coffee bud Laura said they were awesome. Right now I am listening to their episode on Mortality, and vegetative states, and the development of how we determine death. You know, how it used to be by breath, the heart beating, and now brain function. I guess there are "11 Meditations On Death" that they are talking about. I just got done listening to them interview a man who jumped off a bridge, probably the golden gate. How he woke up that day and knew it was just the thing to do; he knew that he was going to die today and it was okay. He was on the bridge, holding the railing, about to jump. And as soon as he saw his hands let go of the railing he thought "Oh no. This was a mistake! Someone help me." But there was nothing he could do - he just dropped and hit the water. He survived (obviously), but what an experience! They also talked about this lady who went to see a neural psychologist, and at first seemed fine. But she eventually started talking about how she didn't think things were real. She then asked him "Am I dead?" And really. When you die, do you realize it? I mean. How would you know if you are dead or not?

Deep Thoughts. Everybody listen to Radio Lab.

"Now, a consequence of this cosmic scheme is going to surprise you. When you die you are grieved by all the atoms of which you are composed. Well. I mean they hung together for years whether in sheets of skin or communities of spleen, but after your death they don't die. Instead they part ways, moving off in their separate directions; mourning the loss of a special time they shared together. Actually haunted that they were once playing a part in something... larger than themselves. Something that had it's own life. Something that uhm... uh... that they can hardly put a finger on."

-David Eagleman from his book "Sum".

Don't stop believin', folks.

When The End Is In Sight

There really is nothing like the end of a semester. It is especially sweet when it is the end of your first year of college. I am sure that I had it much easier at a community college than those who chose to go to a university, but you will be sorry when you are much more in debt than me!! After tomorrow night when I turn in my last art paper I will be free until the first if the month. That is when my summer math class starts (groan). Math is probably one of the few things that can make me shake with rage and frustration. I don't like to be wrong, and I don't like to not know why I am wrong.

This reminds me: I wanted to punch my Composition teacher in the throat today. Why? Because she is a short, snide, macabre, sorry excuse for an instructor. Not only did we reading severely depressing stories for the first three weeks of class, but she would be so HAPPY about what went on in the stories! Stories about death, loneliness, isolation, and everything else that comes from beyond the dark side of the moon, she would find so enjoyable. Not that I can't appreciate good literature. But these stories were not even well written! Poorly synthesized and just all around weak; trying too hard to be extreme and edgy.

But, that was not really what made me want to assault her. We were supposed to have a rough draft to do a workshop with last week, and I did! But, and I don't know if this is really just my ignorance, apparently she was expecting a finished paper in draft form. I thought we were supposed to have a start on our paper, not a finished piece. And for that, I am receiving half credit on that portion of rubric. I explained my understanding of what she wanted, and that she never specified the length of the draft. All my life I have thought of a rough draft as being nothing more than a rough start to the paper. Maybe it was just me.

Either way, violent thoughts were racing through my head and I could feel my legs starting to twitch, so I said "Cool!" and left with a smile smeared across my face.

SO GLAD I NEVER HAVE TO TAKE AN ENGLISH CLASS AT SPC AGAIN.

Shetbeg.

So tonight I had to compile 15 of my essays from this semester's Art In The Cities online class. I think it goes without saying that I didn't have 15 to compile. I had 9. Which is not bad considering the fact that.... well, considering it's me. But I did get all nine in, AND I commented on the discussion board = mission accomplished.

Today I was driving down the frontage road along I-94 towards DNTWN St. Paul with CJ and Anna when all the sudden I see this navy blue Crown Victoria turn it's lights on and got directly behind my truck. All I could think of for the first five seconds was "Oh my, I should get out of this officer's way so that he can serve and protect!" I thought that until as I moved to the side he moved in sync with me. "SHIT. SHIT SHIT SHIT. SHIT." That was all I was thinking for the next thirty seconds as I put the truck in park and shut it off. Placing my hands on the wheel I waited patiently with CJ and Anna, muttering about how he couldn't be giving me a ticket, it was my first offense! I had a spotless record! A clean slate.

So the officer gets to my window and asks for license and proof of insurance, which I provide very cheerfully. He says he will return shortly, after informing me he pulled me over because I was going 44mph in a 30mph area. News to me! I knew I was going above the speed limit, but had no idea it was by 15 mph.

He returns with the news: "So, I could give you a speeding ticket that would cost you $130.00 and let you be on your way. But, this insurance card is expired. I do believe you have insurance, so I tell ya what... I am just going to give a citation for failure to provide failure of insurance, all you have to do is make a photocopy of your valid insurance card and send it in with the citation to the address on this envelope. Have a great day."

Me:"But officer, I think I have a valid thing in my wallet!"

Officer:"Have a nice day, sir."

It was only a few minutes later that I realized what a deal I had been cut!!! Not only do I still have a clear record (provided I go to the court building and show them my valid insurance card), but I now have my first experience with the police out of the way and it went very well!!

Other than that, life is average, which I am okay with. I have my hardest final tomorrow afternoon in Minnesota History, and I am not looking forward to it. It is my hardest class when it comes to quizzes and tests, and each time I do not do all that well. But I know that if I expect to do any good at all I have to go in with a positive attitude and maybe actually prepare a little bit. I am going to listen to his podcasts on the topics we will be covering, which include: 1968 and other political happenings in Minnesota including Walter Mondale, H.H. Humphrey.

Basically I have my work cut out for me tomorrow morning when I cram.

By the way Betch, FUCK YOU!!! -Shoes.

Well, here we go again. The cycle is starting again. We have fun, things seem good, then no more texts or calls or contact what-so-ever. AKA Rejection.

It isn't that I feel like I am this amazing guy and it is ridiculous for anyone not to want to hang out with me. Believe, I am not that delusional/conceded. But really, at least say something. I am really aggravated that things never go my way. And by never of course I mean whenever I really really really want something regardless of it's consequences/outcome. And when I say I am aggravated I mean not praying enough or thinking of myself non-stop. What, you expect me to spend my free time trying to find YOU some tail/relationship? as if.

All I really wanted tonight was to go to the 90's. I don't care with whom I went, because hopefully I would find someone else to dance with, and if there are more of us then no one is left alone. I feel like a creep just going down there alone. Seems too much like I am cruising... which I am not, I just wanted to be social. But as it would turn out, the one weekend I am free enough to go to the 90's, everyone is occupied. Buuuullshiiiiiit.

So. Having reflected on what was just going through my head, and re-reading what I have just typed, I realize that there is no way all these happenings are the Universe attacking me and making my life miserable, and that it is nothing more than me sinking back into a terrible habit of self will run riot, and selfish/self seeking motives ruling over my (for the most part) rational thoughts.

First of all: If I know the Universe (and I do), he would never just do that to someone - intentionally make there life aggravating. The aggravation is purely my own doing.

Second: If I could take two steps back and assess what is REALLY going on with my mood, I just might be able to clear my head enough to be of some usefulness to someone else.

In other words. I have just had a change in perspective. I believe this would also be the workings of the promises in my life. This is a situation that not only used to baffle me, but obviously still does... and I was able to handle it in a rather reasonable manner.

That is, if we are forgetting about the moments that I was stomping my feet and whining like a child (all to go to a gay bar).

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease.

I Just Wanna DANCE

So tonight is saturday night... the first saturday night in recent memory that I have not had extreme amounts of homework to complete, meaning tonight... we DANCE!!!

First Ave. TML, dark lighting, sweaty bodies, awkward arm flailing: the best a man can get short of a lap dance from John Goodman (which I really hope happens someday). I have been wanting to get out and dance for so long! There are three days left of the spring semester, three more finals one of which is a Analytical Poetry Research Paper due wednesday that I have 1.5 paragraphs thus far.

My grandma is in town this weekend for Mother's Day, and it makes me REALLY happy to see her. I hand't seen her since Easter, and it worries me that she is in her house all by herself. Granted, she does have neighbors that are also widows and they check up on each other. It would make me feel better if she just moved down to the cities. I can't see her doing that though, having lived in the country all her life. And I would rather have her spend what is left of her life living independently and in a location she loves, than anything/anywhere else.

I turned in that paper that was due monday or tuesday (I can't even remember anymore, sad) with only a page and a half done explaining that with everything that was going on I had hit a road block. I am fine with what I did get done and I am ready to accept whatever grade comes through in the end. Hopefully it is something better than a FAILING grade.

ALSO! I got home from work yesterday and at home I saw a little makeshift book/binder with my Grandpa Max's ancestry, and get this... the shit goes back 17 GENERATIONS. The last date of birth they have for someone in it is 1360. I am apparently a little bit French too. It is SO cool learning about your old distant existence.

Job is tolerable. Family is good. Life is moving forward.

A Change In Perspective?

So I thought I would mess around, push some buttons, do a little this a little that. Basically this is a test post, and if it works out it will remain up.

I have still not finished that paper that was due on Tuesday. I decided it was very unspiritual and not quite fulfilling my signed "academic integrity policy" agreement sheet if I completely made stuff up about someone's life. The bright side: I learned by trial and error how to site a paper using Chicago Style. I am actually enjoying using MLA these days, just because it is SO much easier than all the others. After four years in high school and a semester in college I am finally getting it!!!

Even though I am probably going to receive a terrible grade on this paper and potentially fail the class, I am at ease. But as I say that I start to panic a little bit. Waste of money. Waste of TIME. Energy. Everything I am lacking excess of, basically.
But I for SURE have enough time to stumbleupon.
ENJOI

Beach Art http://su.pr/2xVd84

I Few Tid Bits From My Day So Far......

So I was up very late last night (or should I say this morning?) after remembering that this morning was my Minnesota Geography final - a week earlier than all my other classes. I spent most the my time before that realization sitting in a rut trying to write/B.S. a paper that I already had a one week extension on. Needless to say the paper did not get finished. The page requirement was 5-6 pages, so I was aiming for four. At quarter to midnight I had one and a half pages and decided if I could just get to three, that would be satisfactory, eh? Then I decided if I am not even going to TRY and be near the page requirement, why turn it in on time?

My attention then shifted to my Composition research/analytical paper that I had to have a draft of by class time today. I was just starting, but have had half of the semester to prepare for it. I am now sitting in the hall at school sweating like a boy being approached by his junior high crush - wondering why. why. WHY. I always put myself in this position. I wait until the last minute to get things done, which causes me to rush on them when I finally do start on them.

Things always work out fairly well, but I am left now wondering what my full potential is, or could be if I was an organized, responsible, dedicated student. I know I can get A's and B's without cheating, and get them doing what I do now. But WHAT IF. What if I just sat down every night and actually did something constructive? I wouldn't be missing anything important - my life revolves around a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, energy drinks, and facebook. Not that I hate my life and I am saying things suck, but there is SO MUCH MORE OUT THERE.

I look around and see people who spent 20 years in the bottle, just getting better and turning their life around. I have a chance at life that they missed out on when they were younger. I am completely and UTTERLY blessed to have been extended the hand of the fellowship........

I might write more later, but I realised I just spent another twenty minutes writing about how I procrastinate on school work. But it just struck me: is everything I am typing right now always running through my head?? No wonder I get nothing done...

I think too much.

Sharon Olds - First Thanksgiving

Ryan Has A Blog??

This is the first (of hopefully many) blog entries that I am assuming will interest at least one single person somewhere on the World Wide Web.

I may be young, and there is a plethora of things that I can hardly wrap my developing brain around, but I have also had a rather unique experience regarding life, death, and everything that goes along with it. You see, I am an addict and an alcoholic. I am in recovery, and work a 12 step program that has made my life worth living (which is a rather drastic change from how I felt BEFORE my introduction to the program). This was my first change in perspective; a spiritual experience, if you please.

Not to be too bitter, but I don't care if you disagree with the things I have to say nor do I care whether you believe I am going to hell or not. I realized not too long ago that I am not here to be judged by you, or anyone for that matter. I am here to go throughout my days striving to do the next right thing, and to help my fellows. I am here by the grace of God (or Allah, Adonai, Jehovah, Buddha, Mother Nature, etc.), and do not want to waste one more day trying to play the role of director for a production that would otherwise be filled with beauty and joy.

As the week begins, we bury my grandfather, Maximilian Sporer Jr., who was one of the men I respect most in this world. He was born in 1924 to Belgian immigrants and named Roy De Buck. His father was a bootlegger who, later, ended up getting caught and sent to jail. My grandfather's mother was unable to care for the children on her own during the Great Depression, and sent them to an orphanage in Owatonna. He was later adopted by Maximilian Sporer Sr. and his wife; it was from that moment that his life took a turn for the better. He went on to serve in World War II shooting down Nazi planes, and was on the beaches of Normandy, France on D-Day. When he returned home he married Mary Springer (my grandmother), and went to St. Thomas Academy, getting a degree in English, and physical education. Max and Mary had five children, the youngest being my father Jon.

Throughout his life he had many great accomplishments, and he had an actual impact on many people's lives. Not only was he my hero, but he was a hero for his country. It makes me so sad to know that when he died I had not spoken to him for almost five months. He had lived in Pensacola, Florida with his companion Geraldine Conniff, who I am eternally grateful to have in my life. Geri made the final years of my grandfather FUN, he was always laughing and telling (semi)offensive jokes, just like he always had. He was always happy to see his children, or grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He will be missed greatly.

Now, I could spend weeks wallowing and grieving over his death, OR I could accept life exactly how it is: short, sweet, and unpredictable. I can enjoy the time I have here, right now.

Acceptance is the answer to all my problems.

I used to be an ornery, depressed, drunken druggie. I cared about no one but myself and my next fix/hit/drink. Since getting sober, I have a new outlook on life, a new appreciation for family and friends, and a disposition that some say is infectious. It is no thanks to me, but to my fellowship and my family/friends that have not given up on me.

This was all my first large change in perspective.