wherever you go, there you are

This Christmas was pretty fun.
I went to Midland and met with Sarah and we drank tea after doing a run/jump/spin hug in the middle of barnes&noble. She got her hair straightened by a hot Italian guy named Fabrizio, and I held a chameleon for the first time. I spent time with my family, saw Sarah Ayer's baby, met Eden at the Deli, played Tomb Raider, dug a snow tunnel, rode on a sled tied to a snowmobile, and then on Christmas Day, drove 6 hours and had a great time doing it. I didn't have to stop to rest or anything! When I came into my apartment, it seemed huge--like somehow I was a fish that was put into a smaller bowl so I shrunk and then I went back to the bigger bowl. Everything was even more beautiful than I remembered it.

Stephanie is gone and that is sad and strange. But I'll just have to make due because that's all there is and at least we have what we had.

My favorite book of all time (which is neck and neck with Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass) is On The Road by Jack Kerouac. And as I was driving home from my parents house, I was listening to Matt Dillon narrate the book on a CD which I borrowed from Brianna. Things kept popping up that completely described how I felt, and although it would be my fifth time reading/listening to it, I was realizing these things for the first time. They would pass through the north and peer through the falling snow like a monk peering into the papery ancient scriptures. They'd go to Florida, where my family is now. And then Sal Paradise said:

"What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? --it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies."

It's truth and it is unchanging and we're all helpless. But that is what's beautiful. We're all on the road and we're traveling and in every single moment we're leaving something and heading toward something and there's nothing we can do about it because all we have is now.

Do You Realize
that everyone you know
Someday will die

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
let them know you realize
that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round.

I am home again at my parent's house in Pinconning and it's really nice to see everyone and not have to work or worry about homework or anything like that. That work/homework thing has been dominating my life and making me stay up until 4 am and then get up at 7. This morning I slept in until 10 and that is probably a new record for me.
Plans are made for my days and weeks and I'm catching up on a life that I have sort of missed out on for a while. But that's what happens. You miss out on one part of your life because you move onto another. I am really and truly excited for the adventures yet to come and am really grateful for the ones that have already happened. It is like I want to be doing something every second while still having time to relax and work on my reading list that I have made for this christmas break, but that is just not possible.
This is really stream-of-consciousness and it probably won't make sense to anyone but me.
However, whenever I do come home I always feel some kind of separation from everything. I feel separated from this place because I have been away for so long and have not been here for all of the tiny little changes that occur unnoticed, and I feel separated from my life in Marquette because I am literally separated from my life in Marquette. It is kind of strange. Not unpleasant, just strange.

I think I might be having some sort of male version of a period or something because I have been getting a lot of cramps, I feel fat, and I am kind of in a funky mood and tired and impulsive in bad ways. I just bought some pants and I skipped school today. I really need to stop spending money on stupid things like sweatshirts and pants. They are just clothes and have nothing to do with who I really am. I feel guilty having bought them but still part of me is glad that I spent the money because new pants are soon going to be flying toward my house. I always make myself into a project because I always have something that I want to work on. And I think that is a really good thing. Now, I want to work on self control and consumerism. Also exercise, accepting and living in the present moment, learning to cook, making art, reading everything, and talking. Ready, GO.

Guess what I did!

Yes, I did that too but that's not what I'm talking about.

I made calligraphy ink out of BEETS!

colors are really beautiful and the sun is warm. I want to go to Peru next fall but right now I am going to read The Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

sometimes I hate technology

Friday the 13th

It's nearly 2:00 a.m. and I have to work tomorrow at 7:30 and then drive from there for six hours to my good ole' hometown of Pinconning so I am going to make this quick. Work today was really good. I don't even know why. I am excited for the drive tomorrow. I made some new cd's and I just got the Beatle's White Album and I will be listening to that too. It should be a fantastic time. I am really excited and still I feel like I am going to miss my new home for those four days that I will be home in my old home. Is that shitty? I miss both places at once and it doesn't make any sense! Was it really Christmas when last I was home? My time is flying flying flying. I hope I look back on this time and know that I made the most of it. I really do.

Grossness: I can smell the scabs in my nasal cavity and I can taste the scabs in the back of my throat! Do you remember what it smelled like dissecting the cat in high school Anatomy class?

Song: Beauty of Uncertainty - KT Tunstall

Are you familiar with our pain scale?

There is something definitely wrong. I feel it in my bones. Every time my pain medication starts to wear off, the left side of my throat hurts so bad that it makes me want to bury myself alive. It is actually like there is a tiny mine worker in my throat chiseling away at the walls with a Taco Bell spork. Something interesting: I think I have mentioned my medication--if not started out by mentioning it--in all of my posts so far. God, why can't I be more interesting? HA. I'm back at work after my week vacation and I am enjoying myself. I'm getting a lot more comfortable with being a service manager now that I kind of know what to do even though I still ask everyone like ten thousand questions. I cannot tell you how good it feels to work at a place that you feel good working at. Oh my golly, my life is so great! Everything is perfect and wonderful and I just want to dance and sing and take my clothes off. Ok, just kidding.

But really, I'm doing pretty good. I set out a while ago to do some self-discovery and to try to understand the things that I do and feel. I try to go to a counselor regularly when he doesn't cancel my appointments and I am really trying to hold true to what I say and say what I know I can hold true to. I feel like I am actually making steps. The person that I am, and even more so the person that I was in the past, has some major flaws. I am not trying to be perfect but I am trying to grow and improve, and not just for me but for the people in my life that are important to me.

I know that one of the hardest things I will have to do is talk to my parents. I want to talk to them about how they make me feel when they ignore the fact that I am a gay man or that they disapprove of the thought of it. I want to tell them how worried I am that they are going to grow old and be lonely and depressed and hate each other and not know anything about their kids. I want to tell them how much I love them and how much I want them to be happy but the problem is that I never have enough strength. I wish I could just tell them what I'm feeling and what I think they should do. So I am setting a goal. I am going to talk to them soon. Maybe before Justin's party. Probably after, when I am still down there. It is so incredibly easy to make goals but it is fucking climbing mountains to actually reach them.

Unitarian Universalists and the Pursuit of Happyness

The savory period of my recovery is slowly coming to a close and the pills that are making it so savory are also nearing an end. Considering all things, this week has been pretty wonderful for me. I got my tonsils removed and because of that, my Mom and Aunt Mary came to visit for a few days. I felt fine and in fact was co-host of a really great potluck on the same night as my surgery. This was much needed time off and even though I did take some really fantastic naps, I feel like I have done a lot. I feel accomplished and that is always a good feeling. This morning, I was awoken to the sweet sounds of Eiffel 65's "Blue" because the ultra-tan fashion model/barista girl at Cruise-n-Coffee (which is the drive-in coffee shop right outside of my window) was playing it as she opened up shop. Brianna and I went for a walk around the Marquette morning and found ourselves in the cemetery among the souls of the dead and the plants of the community gardens that share the space with them.
One major thing that I am thankful for with this move is that we three--Brianna, Stephanie, and I--are all somewhat in the same place, trying to figure things out for ourselves and become the people that we should be and want to be, not the people that we often feel pressured to be. One aspect that we're all kind of looking into is spirituality since none of us believe in the generally accepted idea of God. So this morning, Brianna and I went to a Unitarian Universalist Congregation which is kind of a mass for spiritual atheists. I didn't know what to expect because it is hard to imagine going to church and not hearing about how good God is and how bad I am, but I had a really great time and was very impressed. People were happy and fun and one elderly lady was even mock-ballet dancing in the little reception area because there was some classical music playing. It was the celebration of flowers today and we all took a flower home and then took time to reflect on the flower and the journey it has gone through from seed to where it is now and the complexities and simplicities that it contains. I think I want to start going every week. Well, every week starting the week after next since I will be in Pinconning! on the 15th which is the day after Justin's party, Father's Day, and Sarah's birthday. Don't worry, I wont be buying any Nike's and drinking poison kool-aid; I just really like this idea of people coming together to celebrate one another, without prejudice or guilt or ignorance.
I watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" which is a pretty sad and inspiring okay movie. And "Happyness" is intentionally misspelled. It was good but that's basically all I have to say about it.
I think I have spent a lot of time today tweaking the HTML code on this blog to change what it looks like. I have come to realize that I usually like to make things look beautiful before I start putting them to use. I am not being conceited and saying that my blog looks absolutely beautiful, but I mean that I was more concerned with what it was going to look like than I was with what it was going to say. Is it expression? and is expression a gateway to creativity and more expression? That's what I think it is. I know that I like things to look a certain way before I can feel like they are complete or fully functional. Does this mean that I am fussy about physical appearances? I don't think of myself that way but maybe I am. It seems to be more of the beauty of the things around me or the things that I do rather than actually being me. Is that me? Did Pilgrim's wear tennis-shoes? I need to stop thinking about this and go to bed or the bathroom or something.
But one other thing that I am thankful for: the autosave feature on this blog. For a few moments, I really thought that I had typed all of this and lost it to an accidental visit to YouTube.

Goodnight Moon

This is the first blog that I've posted in a very long time and I am not sure that I am going to be able to continue it like I used to--or even that I want to. I've been sitting in this new life of mine, drifting through the pain pills and cups of tea just wanting to write something and put it out there, or even just make something. Take a picture, write a journal entry, write a poem. Anything. I can't figure out why I am having this longing to write. Perhaps it is that I was so used to it before when I had my first blog, or that being a college student has gotten me into the habit of writing things occasionally. Before, I had an audience and a tangible reason for writing. I was keeping in contact with my friends back home or I was working on an assignment. This feels like neither. I feel like this longing is one that is completely independent of other people. And maybe that is a good thing. Maybe that is what a blog is supposed to be: not to get ratings or viewers but simply to create. God, I'm corny.