Have to make up for lost time today.
I had a ton of things to say yesterday, but having to work from 5:30 AM to 9 PM with only a single lunch break kinda gets in the way.
Main subject for today: PARENTS.
1) Childhood reading
I hate parents who tell their kids "This book is too grown-up for you."
As if to say "You're incompetent, and only time will make you more competent!"
I work in a library. I love to read.
If my parents hadn't left the doors wide open on my available reading material, I never would have known my ability, nor expanded my vocabulary or reading tastes.
If a kid wants to read a book, LET THEM!
If they don't know all the words, get them in the habit of looking them up!
If they ask questions, BE A PARENT and EXPLAIN IT TO THEM!
This whole idea of "you're not old enough to understand" has always been a load of BS, and it makes the parent look incompetent because they'd rather handwave the subject away than actually devote some time and effort to their children's understanding.
Kids are naturally curious.
It's part of human development, and leads to greater understanding of the world around us.
As many bitter old grownups can attest, once you lose that childhood curiosity, it doesn't come back.
Yet it seems as though so many parents are trying to kill it in its infancy.
They'd rather get the kid hooked into the machine as soon as possible, and let the Internet and television do the parenting.
Which, strangely enough, leads us into....
2) Bullying
"You can't stop bullying. It's human nature. I bet if you were stronger and well, dumber, you'd probably be a bully too."
-Paranorman (paraphrased cuz I'm in a hurry)
Bullying is not new.
Bullying is not some cancerous sign of the degradation of our consumerist society (though there is plenty of that to go around).
Bullying is what hurting children do to make themselves feel like they have control over something, especially when they're made to feel powerless at home due to abuse.
And here's the kicker:
IT'S BEEN HAPPENING SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME.
It isn't some "epidemic" which has just recently reared its ugly head.
The only thing which has changed in recent years (see above) is that fewer and fewer parents are taking it upon themselves to PARENT.
It is not the responsibility of PBS, or teachers, or school administrators to give your child a sense of self-worth.
That has to start happening from BIRTH.
And who's around then?
YOU, the PARENTS.
If YOU don't instill self-esteem and a resilience to the opinions of others, and support them when they come under fire, then NO ONE WILL.
That so many of you are expecting parenting to be as easy as plugging the kid into the Internet and saying "Go play!" is more disgusting to me than the inevitable consequence of your children offing themselves due to the contents of an EMAIL.
Get off your iPhones/Pads/whatever, quit trying to party hard while parenting, GROW UP, and start being an adult for your children to rely on!
Friday, June 7, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Quickie
Gonna have to be a quick one today, kiddies.
I'm working 8-2 at Job #1, then 3-9 at Job #2.
Then I get to get up at 4:30 tomorrow to go 5:30-2, etc.
I thought of another one for the "What's Wrong With Brandon" list.
5) Does not take pride in his appearance
Yet another Boy/Not a Man one. I really don't. I hate wearing any shirt I have to tuck in (mostly because I'm about thirty pounds overweight), I hate wearing a tie (related to being overweight), and I hate wearing "dress" shoes.
I don't understand why people think dressing a certain way makes me more or less capable of doing a job, especially if its an office job away from the general public (think Office Space).
I've heard the excuse "Well if you dress professionally you'll act professionally."
Really?
Are people really so shallow and so easily influenced that a change of outfit will give them a better work ethic?
I thought that took years of self-discipline and experience to cultivate.
Guess not.
Back on my end, it wasn't until very recently that I started shaving more than twice a week.
I see scenes in movies where they use fast cutting to show a guy getting dressed (he buttons his shirt *CUT* he buckles his belt *CUT* he adjusts his tie *CUT* he ties his shoes *CUT* he tells his reflection "I look good"), and where others see an attractive man with a bright future career ahead of him, all I see is a very uncomfortable adult forced to wear a monkey suit in exchange for higher pay (this feeling becomes ironic if he's done all this just for a job interview).
Supposedly it's the parents' responsibility to instill this sense of pride in one's appearance, but my parents both took time to look good every morning, and made me stand there while one or the other of them did my hair before school every day.
But even once I was old enough to take care of my appearance myself, it was just an automatic chore, done with an unconscious assurance that "They'll just get mad at me if I don't".
As opposed to the supposed ideal of a man spending an hour or so on himself, looking in the mirror, and being so gratified at what he sees that the day offers no further challenges for him.
I'm working 8-2 at Job #1, then 3-9 at Job #2.
Then I get to get up at 4:30 tomorrow to go 5:30-2, etc.
I thought of another one for the "What's Wrong With Brandon" list.
5) Does not take pride in his appearance
Yet another Boy/Not a Man one. I really don't. I hate wearing any shirt I have to tuck in (mostly because I'm about thirty pounds overweight), I hate wearing a tie (related to being overweight), and I hate wearing "dress" shoes.
I don't understand why people think dressing a certain way makes me more or less capable of doing a job, especially if its an office job away from the general public (think Office Space).
I've heard the excuse "Well if you dress professionally you'll act professionally."
Really?
Are people really so shallow and so easily influenced that a change of outfit will give them a better work ethic?
I thought that took years of self-discipline and experience to cultivate.
Guess not.
Back on my end, it wasn't until very recently that I started shaving more than twice a week.
I see scenes in movies where they use fast cutting to show a guy getting dressed (he buttons his shirt *CUT* he buckles his belt *CUT* he adjusts his tie *CUT* he ties his shoes *CUT* he tells his reflection "I look good"), and where others see an attractive man with a bright future career ahead of him, all I see is a very uncomfortable adult forced to wear a monkey suit in exchange for higher pay (this feeling becomes ironic if he's done all this just for a job interview).
Supposedly it's the parents' responsibility to instill this sense of pride in one's appearance, but my parents both took time to look good every morning, and made me stand there while one or the other of them did my hair before school every day.
But even once I was old enough to take care of my appearance myself, it was just an automatic chore, done with an unconscious assurance that "They'll just get mad at me if I don't".
As opposed to the supposed ideal of a man spending an hour or so on himself, looking in the mirror, and being so gratified at what he sees that the day offers no further challenges for him.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Wind, and What's Wrong
I'm not sure if I believe in the concept of affinities for the classical elements (earth, air, fire, water), but I have had some positive experience meditating on the wind.
Also, I have more energy on windy days, no matter what temperature.
I tried meditating this afternoon as I was finishing what I hope will become a daily walk/jog around the lake.
Just repeated a few simple sentences to calm my mind and remove myself from the problems of the day.
I am the wind.
I am free.
I am weightless.
I am the wind.
I am powerful.
I cannot be contained.
I am the wind.
I am above.
...okay, so maybe more than a few.
Then it got interesting. I became calm (a feat just after jogging), and my mind began to formulate complex imagery regarding the air, its works, its state, and its inhabitants.
Again, not sure about the old Celtic/Wiccan/naturist/whatever concepts of elemental attunement, but so far my experience has been positive regarding the improvement of my outlook on life.
Speaking of which.
Matthew Polly's written a couple of books (American Shaolin and Tapped Out), both autobiographical and both quite spiritual/philosophical.
Both detail a journey, the first through training at the Shaolin Temple, the second training the various disciplines of Mixed Martial Arts.
In both, the journey begins with him making a mental list he calls "What's Wrong With Matt?".
Given that most people with an optimistic outlook on life and more success in it tend to search for self-improvement rather than assuming perfection and blaming their problems on others, I figure it's a good time for my own self-assessment.
So, What's Wrong With Brandon?
1) Boy, Not a Man
I do partially blame American society for this, given our total lack of actual adulthood rites. Tribal societies have a black and white approach to adulthood. You kill the jaguar, you are a man. Killing the jaguar means you are ready for anything that could come your way as part of the society, so once you kill it, your adult-ness (male in this example) is never questioned. We in 'Murica have no universally recognized rites or rituals like this. Some people might say learning to drive or graduating high school/college, but in what way do any of those successes demonstrate that you are ready for the myriad of circumstances life throws at you?
On my end, as you can see from yesterday, I feel like I'm just falling from one circumstance to the next instead of taking charge. It doesn't help that I'm not sure what "taking charge" even looks like, given that the only example I have (my dad starting his own business when I was three) doesn't seem like it would work for me because I don't know what I have to offer the world. I'm also very hesitant about calling strangers on the phone, even to order pizza (though nowadays you can mostly do that online), and I can't manage money well.
2) Glutton
I love food. No really. The more damage it does to my body, the more I tend to crave/enjoy it.
3) Lazy
This kinda ties into #2, given that it means I'll eat horrible food all day and night, and never want to exercise. As I mentioned above, I've started walking every day, and lessening the amount of food I take in. Hopefully it'll hold up in the long term.
4) No self-discipline
The more I write, the more it seems like #1 just covers everything. I have a novel, a screenplay, a ton-load of short stories, and a comic book script "in the works".
Meaning, I have finished drafts of the short stories and the first issue of the comic book script, but the novel draft is nowhere finished, and the screenplay (being an adaptation of the novel) is similarly unfinished. I have a ton-load of outlines, brainstorming, etc. for it, but it seems to take sooo much effort to actually sit and write paragraphs, which leads into...
5) Easily distracted
Why did typewriters go out of style? I get carpel tunnels very easily, so writing massive numbers of pages by hand is out. But my one typing device has Internet access. So when I SHOULD be cranking out chapter after chapter leading to an astonishing reveal or major plot twist....I'm on Memebase. Also I play Pokemon waaay too much.
That's all I can think of right now. Maybe tonight or tomorrow will reveal more glaring flaws.
Also, I have more energy on windy days, no matter what temperature.
I tried meditating this afternoon as I was finishing what I hope will become a daily walk/jog around the lake.
Just repeated a few simple sentences to calm my mind and remove myself from the problems of the day.
I am the wind.
I am free.
I am weightless.
I am the wind.
I am powerful.
I cannot be contained.
I am the wind.
I am above.
...okay, so maybe more than a few.
Then it got interesting. I became calm (a feat just after jogging), and my mind began to formulate complex imagery regarding the air, its works, its state, and its inhabitants.
Again, not sure about the old Celtic/Wiccan/naturist/whatever concepts of elemental attunement, but so far my experience has been positive regarding the improvement of my outlook on life.
Speaking of which.
Matthew Polly's written a couple of books (American Shaolin and Tapped Out), both autobiographical and both quite spiritual/philosophical.
Both detail a journey, the first through training at the Shaolin Temple, the second training the various disciplines of Mixed Martial Arts.
In both, the journey begins with him making a mental list he calls "What's Wrong With Matt?".
Given that most people with an optimistic outlook on life and more success in it tend to search for self-improvement rather than assuming perfection and blaming their problems on others, I figure it's a good time for my own self-assessment.
So, What's Wrong With Brandon?
1) Boy, Not a Man
I do partially blame American society for this, given our total lack of actual adulthood rites. Tribal societies have a black and white approach to adulthood. You kill the jaguar, you are a man. Killing the jaguar means you are ready for anything that could come your way as part of the society, so once you kill it, your adult-ness (male in this example) is never questioned. We in 'Murica have no universally recognized rites or rituals like this. Some people might say learning to drive or graduating high school/college, but in what way do any of those successes demonstrate that you are ready for the myriad of circumstances life throws at you?
On my end, as you can see from yesterday, I feel like I'm just falling from one circumstance to the next instead of taking charge. It doesn't help that I'm not sure what "taking charge" even looks like, given that the only example I have (my dad starting his own business when I was three) doesn't seem like it would work for me because I don't know what I have to offer the world. I'm also very hesitant about calling strangers on the phone, even to order pizza (though nowadays you can mostly do that online), and I can't manage money well.
2) Glutton
I love food. No really. The more damage it does to my body, the more I tend to crave/enjoy it.
3) Lazy
This kinda ties into #2, given that it means I'll eat horrible food all day and night, and never want to exercise. As I mentioned above, I've started walking every day, and lessening the amount of food I take in. Hopefully it'll hold up in the long term.
4) No self-discipline
The more I write, the more it seems like #1 just covers everything. I have a novel, a screenplay, a ton-load of short stories, and a comic book script "in the works".
Meaning, I have finished drafts of the short stories and the first issue of the comic book script, but the novel draft is nowhere finished, and the screenplay (being an adaptation of the novel) is similarly unfinished. I have a ton-load of outlines, brainstorming, etc. for it, but it seems to take sooo much effort to actually sit and write paragraphs, which leads into...
5) Easily distracted
Why did typewriters go out of style? I get carpel tunnels very easily, so writing massive numbers of pages by hand is out. But my one typing device has Internet access. So when I SHOULD be cranking out chapter after chapter leading to an astonishing reveal or major plot twist....I'm on Memebase. Also I play Pokemon waaay too much.
That's all I can think of right now. Maybe tonight or tomorrow will reveal more glaring flaws.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Journal, Day 1
Life continues to spiral out of control.
The moment you think you've found some secure footing, however exhausting it is to maintain, another part of the floor drops out from beneath you and you cling to whatever comes to hand, even knowing it will only support you for a few brief moments.
Is this "adulthood"?
This tumbling from one creaky support to another, hoping each time you've hit bedrock, only to find it's just another rotted-out rope bridge?
Beyond all the home-ownership and car-ownership and MONEY, we were promised stability.
Peace of mind.
That if we worked harder, suffered longer, and planned more intensely, we would eventually reap the benefits. The kind our parents enjoy. The kind sitcoms detail in each succeeding episode.
When will it be our turn?
Or are we (or our older siblings, Generation X) merely the beginning of the end of the great American experiment, the initial rumblings of impending doom which we all feel in our hearts?
I wish I could say whose fault this is.
I wish I could point a single finger and yell "Get 'em!"
I wish a single act of removal would send shockwaves of positive energy throughout the system, repairing what is broken, filling in gaps which have existed for centuries.
But I can't.
Because it wouldn't.
Of course, in the midst of all that, it seems as though everyone around me has it all happily under control.
Everyone else has their dream job, or at least one which makes enough money that they don't have to worry.
Even the ones dragging around way too many children.
Are they better at faking it?
Do they really have it under control?
Or am I just delusional, hit with uber-level grass-is-greener syndrome?
I'm to the point where I can't even do the old Animal Farm adage, "I WILL WORK HARDER!"
I'm already working two jobs, both of which are very physical and are probably causing long-term health issues and which leave me with almost no time to rest.
This being a "right-to-work" state (seriously the WORST case of false advertising EVER), even if I'm a model employee who gives %110 %100 of the time (which with this workload could be fatal in the long run), there's nothing stopping them from ditching me at the first sign of a budget cut.
Kinda hard to be a good little employee with that looming in the background at all times, even if you like the people you work with.
Which is an ironic little thought, given that I get along with most of the people at the minimum-wage job that I've only been doing since January, yet am constantly in conflict with both my coworkers and management at the $10/hour job which I've been doing for almost six years.
I know what I want to eventually do for my big multi-decade job.
I want to teach college writing.
However, it requires graduate school, and I'm still dragging around a LOT of student loans from my wild-oats period...which just happened to be spent at a private Christian college.
Bleh.
Oh well.
It led to my wife, so it's hard to regret it, even though the consequences are going to become an increasing problem in the coming months.
Sorry for the rambling, but I haven't been writing much lately and this has been a huge weight on my mind.
The moment you think you've found some secure footing, however exhausting it is to maintain, another part of the floor drops out from beneath you and you cling to whatever comes to hand, even knowing it will only support you for a few brief moments.
Is this "adulthood"?
This tumbling from one creaky support to another, hoping each time you've hit bedrock, only to find it's just another rotted-out rope bridge?
Beyond all the home-ownership and car-ownership and MONEY, we were promised stability.
Peace of mind.
That if we worked harder, suffered longer, and planned more intensely, we would eventually reap the benefits. The kind our parents enjoy. The kind sitcoms detail in each succeeding episode.
When will it be our turn?
Or are we (or our older siblings, Generation X) merely the beginning of the end of the great American experiment, the initial rumblings of impending doom which we all feel in our hearts?
I wish I could say whose fault this is.
I wish I could point a single finger and yell "Get 'em!"
I wish a single act of removal would send shockwaves of positive energy throughout the system, repairing what is broken, filling in gaps which have existed for centuries.
But I can't.
Because it wouldn't.
Of course, in the midst of all that, it seems as though everyone around me has it all happily under control.
Everyone else has their dream job, or at least one which makes enough money that they don't have to worry.
Even the ones dragging around way too many children.
Are they better at faking it?
Do they really have it under control?
Or am I just delusional, hit with uber-level grass-is-greener syndrome?
I'm to the point where I can't even do the old Animal Farm adage, "I WILL WORK HARDER!"
I'm already working two jobs, both of which are very physical and are probably causing long-term health issues and which leave me with almost no time to rest.
This being a "right-to-work" state (seriously the WORST case of false advertising EVER), even if I'm a model employee who gives %110 %100 of the time (which with this workload could be fatal in the long run), there's nothing stopping them from ditching me at the first sign of a budget cut.
Kinda hard to be a good little employee with that looming in the background at all times, even if you like the people you work with.
Which is an ironic little thought, given that I get along with most of the people at the minimum-wage job that I've only been doing since January, yet am constantly in conflict with both my coworkers and management at the $10/hour job which I've been doing for almost six years.
I know what I want to eventually do for my big multi-decade job.
I want to teach college writing.
However, it requires graduate school, and I'm still dragging around a LOT of student loans from my wild-oats period...which just happened to be spent at a private Christian college.
Bleh.
Oh well.
It led to my wife, so it's hard to regret it, even though the consequences are going to become an increasing problem in the coming months.
Sorry for the rambling, but I haven't been writing much lately and this has been a huge weight on my mind.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Christian Combatants
So one of my favorite fighters won tonight in dominating fashion.
That's nothing new.
What is new for the sport of Mixed Martial Arts (or, to most, "UFC") is having the champion of a weight class defend his title, then witness to the collective live audience and millions watching Fox at the time immediately after.
The fighter is Benson Henderson, the UFC's lightweight (155 lb) champion.
When asked by Joe Rogan how he felt about winning, Benson (or "Bendo" to fans) proceeded, not to brag about his macho-ness or bash his opponent for inferiority, but to quote Philippians 4:13.
He also walked to the Octagon to the tune of a remix of "Awesome God".
Check it out
Henderson does not drink, smoke, or do drugs.
He fights for the honor of his teachers and for his mother, who struggled her way across North Korea's iron curtain and came to America not knowing any English, but determined to carve out a life for herself, and subsequently for her children.
No matter how great his success, he continues to demonstrate humility, giving credit first to God, then to his coaches.
Mentioning Henderson as a positive role model to several Christian friends brought scoffs and stern looks which may have been poorly hiding questions regarding my own faith, if I find good role models for both children and adults in the company of "those animals in the cage."
Yet the "animals" bashing their heads into one another, or cleating each other in the calves, or bashing into each other on the court, are somehow all verdant fields for the harvesting of role models, no matter how sordid their personal lives are.
As long as they say the right thing on camera, they're to be looked up to.
A horrific double standard exists between sports which are honestly combative and sports which are deceptively combative.
No one bats an eye when a fistfight breaks out in a baseball or (god forbid) hockey game, but anytime you make the fight the point and take measures to ensure both fighters' safety, you're browbeaten as a barbarian.
Thus, Christians who enter combat sports are treated by their Christian brethren as confused neophytes who have strayed from the path (at best), or apostate psychopaths (at worst).
Ben Henderson has demonstrated in word and deed that he is neither.
He is a fighter, and he is a Christian.
That's nothing new.
What is new for the sport of Mixed Martial Arts (or, to most, "UFC") is having the champion of a weight class defend his title, then witness to the collective live audience and millions watching Fox at the time immediately after.
The fighter is Benson Henderson, the UFC's lightweight (155 lb) champion.
When asked by Joe Rogan how he felt about winning, Benson (or "Bendo" to fans) proceeded, not to brag about his macho-ness or bash his opponent for inferiority, but to quote Philippians 4:13.
He also walked to the Octagon to the tune of a remix of "Awesome God".
Check it out
Henderson does not drink, smoke, or do drugs.
He fights for the honor of his teachers and for his mother, who struggled her way across North Korea's iron curtain and came to America not knowing any English, but determined to carve out a life for herself, and subsequently for her children.
No matter how great his success, he continues to demonstrate humility, giving credit first to God, then to his coaches.
Mentioning Henderson as a positive role model to several Christian friends brought scoffs and stern looks which may have been poorly hiding questions regarding my own faith, if I find good role models for both children and adults in the company of "those animals in the cage."
Yet the "animals" bashing their heads into one another, or cleating each other in the calves, or bashing into each other on the court, are somehow all verdant fields for the harvesting of role models, no matter how sordid their personal lives are.
As long as they say the right thing on camera, they're to be looked up to.
A horrific double standard exists between sports which are honestly combative and sports which are deceptively combative.
No one bats an eye when a fistfight breaks out in a baseball or (god forbid) hockey game, but anytime you make the fight the point and take measures to ensure both fighters' safety, you're browbeaten as a barbarian.
Thus, Christians who enter combat sports are treated by their Christian brethren as confused neophytes who have strayed from the path (at best), or apostate psychopaths (at worst).
Ben Henderson has demonstrated in word and deed that he is neither.
He is a fighter, and he is a Christian.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Post-College 1
It has been an interesting summer, to say the least.
I've learned how to play guitar, which has been awesome, though it feels weird typing with little or no feeling in my fingertips.
Feels like I'm wearing band-aids over the fingers of my left hand.
I'm finished with undergrad-level college.
Of course, I was working almost nonstop for my last year of it, so I don't suddenly have a massive glut of free time.
And there's also the looming spectre of an August without school.
...is it sad that THAT spectre is the one casting a shadow over everything, and not the spectre of trying to find a job that can actually pay for shit in this economy?
BTW, screw spell check, I spell it the creepy way, not the could-be-the-name-of-a-stock-character-who-wears-spectacles way.
...gotta right
.........rite
.........wright
.........write that down for later.
And we wonder why people have trouble learning English.
Even as I acknowledge that the lack of a creative writing option would have killed my college life in its infancy, I don't feel qualified to do anything I wasn't qualified to do after high school.
I feel like my whole college experience, while wonderful and fulfilling and spouse-providing, hasn't prepared me for "adulthood".
I also feel like it gave me more tools for a journey I was already on rather than prepare me for a journey which would begin at graduation.
I was a writer BEFORE going to college to learn how to write.
Fact: College exposed me to a lot of different viewpoints I'd never considered.
Fact: College gave me a tonload more directions in which to potentially take my writing (especially comic book writing, an area I'd never even THOUGHT ABOUT doing beforehand)
Am I a better writer? Hell yes.
Am I a better person? Also hell yes, especially after everything my wife and I have overcome together.
Do I feel qualified to do ANY job which could pay the bills right now?
NO.
I've spent my entire life being told that someday, I would gain the magical key called COLLEGE DEGREE, and open the mystical, divine gateway to happiness known throughout the cosmos as the FULL-TIME JOB.
Slash CAREER.
This FULL-TIME JOB wouldn't be like the other jobs I've had.
There wouldn't be a paper or online application, no dingy office where a bitter old woman would ask deep questions about hours of availability or how much weight you could lift and carry.
The FULL-TIME JOB wouldn't be something you slogged through day after day, praying for 5 PM or Friday.
It would be a happy place that you couldn't wait to get to in the morning and hated to leave at night.
And best of all, the FULL-TIME JOB would give you enough money (for your happy-go-lucky time!) for you to own a home! In a nice neighborhood!
And you wouldn't have to worry about getting fired, because only those who hold the COLLEGE DEGREE key would even be allowed in, and those who hold the key are indispensable!
The key is too valuable and rare to let someone who holds it get away.
...oh wait.
I think when the college degree no longer required a person to PHYSICALLY SIT IN A CLASSROOM, its value started plummeting.
If the value of the thing is in the toils one must undergo to attain it, then the easier the path gets, the more the value shrinks.
Thus, if anyone with an Internet connection can get a degree, and get it quickly, then what value is there in it?
Excepting, of course, medical, law, etc. where the curriculum CANNOT be simplified due to the vital nature of the field (...did I just call LAWYERS a vital field?)
I'm supposed to be a fully mature ADULT by this point, and I'm still scared shitless anytime money issues come into play (thank God my wife isn't), which have been coming into play more often due to my ill-fated attempt at a private Christian college.
...which, ill-fated though it may have been in the academic spectrum, led to my marriage, which in many ways is the only thing keeping me going right now.
I suppose I could turn to religion, but I spent my childhood having the philosophy of Christianity (as opposed to anything meaningful in the emotional or genuinely spiritual spectrum) hammered into my head, and it still is any time I'm around my dad.
It's not like I disbelieve in God or anything.
Nothing but the Divine could have made me stay when my wife's late mother was diagnosed with cancer, and we'd only been dating a few weeks.
I was an arrogant bastard back then, so it's not like I can take credit for not only sticking around, but HELPING.
Spent two New Year's Eves in a hospital lobby.
I have seen God working in my life, and no amount of despair or anxiety can change what I have experienced.
But I feel as though I'm on the edge of a precipice in the midst of a basejumping event.
Everyone else (my fellow graduates) seems well-prepared, loaded up with safety gear (a strong support system, personal maturity, and useful skills) in addition to their actual basejumping gear (their degrees).
I, on the other hand, am wearing a "Musicians Duet Better" t-shirt and jeans, with a backpack full of manuscripts.
Even so, my entire family is yelling "Jump! You can do it!"
My wife stands nearby, gathering her safety equipment and putting on pieces of her suit, a rope connecting us for the journey down, almost ready to take the plunge.
And I know I should jump, but it feels like jumping would be disastrous because everything which should have prepared me for this moment of flight will simply weigh me down.
...hope you enjoyed the analogy.
I really should post more often. Apparently my brain has plenty of hoarded literary vomit to spew.
I've learned how to play guitar, which has been awesome, though it feels weird typing with little or no feeling in my fingertips.
Feels like I'm wearing band-aids over the fingers of my left hand.
I'm finished with undergrad-level college.
Of course, I was working almost nonstop for my last year of it, so I don't suddenly have a massive glut of free time.
And there's also the looming spectre of an August without school.
...is it sad that THAT spectre is the one casting a shadow over everything, and not the spectre of trying to find a job that can actually pay for shit in this economy?
BTW, screw spell check, I spell it the creepy way, not the could-be-the-name-of-a-stock-character-who-wears-spectacles way.
...gotta right
.........rite
.........wright
.........write that down for later.
And we wonder why people have trouble learning English.
Even as I acknowledge that the lack of a creative writing option would have killed my college life in its infancy, I don't feel qualified to do anything I wasn't qualified to do after high school.
I feel like my whole college experience, while wonderful and fulfilling and spouse-providing, hasn't prepared me for "adulthood".
I also feel like it gave me more tools for a journey I was already on rather than prepare me for a journey which would begin at graduation.
I was a writer BEFORE going to college to learn how to write.
Fact: College exposed me to a lot of different viewpoints I'd never considered.
Fact: College gave me a tonload more directions in which to potentially take my writing (especially comic book writing, an area I'd never even THOUGHT ABOUT doing beforehand)
Am I a better writer? Hell yes.
Am I a better person? Also hell yes, especially after everything my wife and I have overcome together.
Do I feel qualified to do ANY job which could pay the bills right now?
NO.
I've spent my entire life being told that someday, I would gain the magical key called COLLEGE DEGREE, and open the mystical, divine gateway to happiness known throughout the cosmos as the FULL-TIME JOB.
Slash CAREER.
This FULL-TIME JOB wouldn't be like the other jobs I've had.
There wouldn't be a paper or online application, no dingy office where a bitter old woman would ask deep questions about hours of availability or how much weight you could lift and carry.
The FULL-TIME JOB wouldn't be something you slogged through day after day, praying for 5 PM or Friday.
It would be a happy place that you couldn't wait to get to in the morning and hated to leave at night.
And best of all, the FULL-TIME JOB would give you enough money (for your happy-go-lucky time!) for you to own a home! In a nice neighborhood!
And you wouldn't have to worry about getting fired, because only those who hold the COLLEGE DEGREE key would even be allowed in, and those who hold the key are indispensable!
The key is too valuable and rare to let someone who holds it get away.
...oh wait.
I think when the college degree no longer required a person to PHYSICALLY SIT IN A CLASSROOM, its value started plummeting.
If the value of the thing is in the toils one must undergo to attain it, then the easier the path gets, the more the value shrinks.
Thus, if anyone with an Internet connection can get a degree, and get it quickly, then what value is there in it?
Excepting, of course, medical, law, etc. where the curriculum CANNOT be simplified due to the vital nature of the field (...did I just call LAWYERS a vital field?)
I'm supposed to be a fully mature ADULT by this point, and I'm still scared shitless anytime money issues come into play (thank God my wife isn't), which have been coming into play more often due to my ill-fated attempt at a private Christian college.
...which, ill-fated though it may have been in the academic spectrum, led to my marriage, which in many ways is the only thing keeping me going right now.
I suppose I could turn to religion, but I spent my childhood having the philosophy of Christianity (as opposed to anything meaningful in the emotional or genuinely spiritual spectrum) hammered into my head, and it still is any time I'm around my dad.
It's not like I disbelieve in God or anything.
Nothing but the Divine could have made me stay when my wife's late mother was diagnosed with cancer, and we'd only been dating a few weeks.
I was an arrogant bastard back then, so it's not like I can take credit for not only sticking around, but HELPING.
Spent two New Year's Eves in a hospital lobby.
I have seen God working in my life, and no amount of despair or anxiety can change what I have experienced.
But I feel as though I'm on the edge of a precipice in the midst of a basejumping event.
Everyone else (my fellow graduates) seems well-prepared, loaded up with safety gear (a strong support system, personal maturity, and useful skills) in addition to their actual basejumping gear (their degrees).
I, on the other hand, am wearing a "Musicians Duet Better" t-shirt and jeans, with a backpack full of manuscripts.
Even so, my entire family is yelling "Jump! You can do it!"
My wife stands nearby, gathering her safety equipment and putting on pieces of her suit, a rope connecting us for the journey down, almost ready to take the plunge.
And I know I should jump, but it feels like jumping would be disastrous because everything which should have prepared me for this moment of flight will simply weigh me down.
...hope you enjoyed the analogy.
I really should post more often. Apparently my brain has plenty of hoarded literary vomit to spew.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Graduation Day
So in about six hours, I'll be sitting in a big room full of parents and spouses.
Oh yeah, and a bunch of people dressed in mortarboards and robes like myself.
I've been by intervals trudging with the weight of the world on my back and skipping lightly with a song in my heart along the road of higher education for eight years.
Let's look at what I've gained during my college years:
-Huge leaps in my abilities as a writer and editor
The University of Central Oklahoma's Creative Studies program has made me a better writer.
Which is what I set out to become when I took a year off (after three years of progressively worse failure), and decided to do college on purpose, so mission accomplished.
Everything from my concept of good storytelling, to character creation and development, to mastery of language has evolved to a huge degree in the three years I've been here.
I've also learned how to give and receive criticism with grace and professionalism, to the point that a visiting novelist giving a masterclass formally asked me to edit his next novel after I demonstrated "a natural gift for editing with the big picture in mind," and offered me $500 for the job.
-An amazingly deep and talented circle of friends
In high school I had always heard about how the social circle you form in college lasts a lot longer than the one you form in high school. At my first college I became very skeptical of this because all I saw was more high school. Even though we were all adults, even the eldest of us still behaved like teenagers.
Since my change of scene, however, my circle of friends has broadened and deepened with each succeeding semester.
Even when I would only know a person for a few months, then never see them again in class, we would keep in touch and continue to spend time together.
This trend has really ramped up in the past year, with eight new people added in a matter of months, and all of them already feeling like part of my group's bedrock.
Of course, the most amazing thing about it is there is no feeling of "aw, I'm graduating so we'll have to break up the group" like there was when I graduated from high school.
There's no sense that I'll have to find new friends just because I'm finally getting my bachelor's degree.
Oh yeah, there's also...
-A Bachelor of Arts in English with a focus on Creative Studies
I dunno what kind of monetary value the business world puts on this degree, but for me it represents a period of explosive growth in my life, as an artist, as a social creature, as a husband, as a friend, as a student (which really will never end...especially since I can just walk into a class and hang out at the back of the room).
That's a brief smattering, to be sure.
I've also learned what study habits and pre-test rituals work best for me, but the odds of me ever using those again outside of grad school is pretty much nil.
Some would criticize my choice of major based on economics, because a degree in Creative Writing doesn't automatically lead to a job with benefits and room for advancement.
Others would say that because of the above fact, I'm not "contributing to society" by not choosing X-other degree.
For me, though, once I decided to get a degree, the reason was not economical.
I knew myself at least kinda well back then, and I knew where my greatest strengths, abilities, and interests lay (all around the same two things: music and writing).
I knew college could help me get better in the areas I was already good in, so I chose to attend, and focus on becoming a better writer.
I've discovered a love for writing comic books that I never would have been exposed to otherwise.
I've learned what makes each form of written storytelling unique, and how to master the nuances of each one.
I've expanded my literary repertoire to a massive degree (pun!), as well as my own body of work.
...and I think I'm to the point of rambling now.
My apologies.
I guess the reason I'm going through all of this in my mind is because at various points along this journey, it felt like it would never end.
Not because I would give up on it, but because time seemed interminable.
I didn't realize until the halfway point of this semester that school has become my comfort zone, a source of stress RELIEF rather than a source of stress.
This result has come about partially because I was able to structure my class schedule so that my last two semesters would consist solely of electives.
In the Creative Studies department, electives consist of round-table classes which focus on a particular type of writing (comic book writing, screenwriting, novel writing, etc), and creating at least a mid-sized manuscript of that type.
Thus I've been able to treat my classes as a time of release, a segment of the week to embrace my creativity and join with others in doing so.
In fact, most of my trepidation regarding post-college life has nothing to do with finding a job or establishing a career, but with suddenly LACKING that time of release, and having to find it in a life suddenly turned nebulous after more than two decades of structure.
Oh yeah, and a bunch of people dressed in mortarboards and robes like myself.
I've been by intervals trudging with the weight of the world on my back and skipping lightly with a song in my heart along the road of higher education for eight years.
Let's look at what I've gained during my college years:
-Huge leaps in my abilities as a writer and editor
The University of Central Oklahoma's Creative Studies program has made me a better writer.
Which is what I set out to become when I took a year off (after three years of progressively worse failure), and decided to do college on purpose, so mission accomplished.
Everything from my concept of good storytelling, to character creation and development, to mastery of language has evolved to a huge degree in the three years I've been here.
I've also learned how to give and receive criticism with grace and professionalism, to the point that a visiting novelist giving a masterclass formally asked me to edit his next novel after I demonstrated "a natural gift for editing with the big picture in mind," and offered me $500 for the job.
-An amazingly deep and talented circle of friends
In high school I had always heard about how the social circle you form in college lasts a lot longer than the one you form in high school. At my first college I became very skeptical of this because all I saw was more high school. Even though we were all adults, even the eldest of us still behaved like teenagers.
Since my change of scene, however, my circle of friends has broadened and deepened with each succeeding semester.
Even when I would only know a person for a few months, then never see them again in class, we would keep in touch and continue to spend time together.
This trend has really ramped up in the past year, with eight new people added in a matter of months, and all of them already feeling like part of my group's bedrock.
Of course, the most amazing thing about it is there is no feeling of "aw, I'm graduating so we'll have to break up the group" like there was when I graduated from high school.
There's no sense that I'll have to find new friends just because I'm finally getting my bachelor's degree.
Oh yeah, there's also...
-A Bachelor of Arts in English with a focus on Creative Studies
I dunno what kind of monetary value the business world puts on this degree, but for me it represents a period of explosive growth in my life, as an artist, as a social creature, as a husband, as a friend, as a student (which really will never end...especially since I can just walk into a class and hang out at the back of the room).
That's a brief smattering, to be sure.
I've also learned what study habits and pre-test rituals work best for me, but the odds of me ever using those again outside of grad school is pretty much nil.
Some would criticize my choice of major based on economics, because a degree in Creative Writing doesn't automatically lead to a job with benefits and room for advancement.
Others would say that because of the above fact, I'm not "contributing to society" by not choosing X-other degree.
For me, though, once I decided to get a degree, the reason was not economical.
I knew myself at least kinda well back then, and I knew where my greatest strengths, abilities, and interests lay (all around the same two things: music and writing).
I knew college could help me get better in the areas I was already good in, so I chose to attend, and focus on becoming a better writer.
I've discovered a love for writing comic books that I never would have been exposed to otherwise.
I've learned what makes each form of written storytelling unique, and how to master the nuances of each one.
I've expanded my literary repertoire to a massive degree (pun!), as well as my own body of work.
...and I think I'm to the point of rambling now.
My apologies.
I guess the reason I'm going through all of this in my mind is because at various points along this journey, it felt like it would never end.
Not because I would give up on it, but because time seemed interminable.
I didn't realize until the halfway point of this semester that school has become my comfort zone, a source of stress RELIEF rather than a source of stress.
This result has come about partially because I was able to structure my class schedule so that my last two semesters would consist solely of electives.
In the Creative Studies department, electives consist of round-table classes which focus on a particular type of writing (comic book writing, screenwriting, novel writing, etc), and creating at least a mid-sized manuscript of that type.
Thus I've been able to treat my classes as a time of release, a segment of the week to embrace my creativity and join with others in doing so.
In fact, most of my trepidation regarding post-college life has nothing to do with finding a job or establishing a career, but with suddenly LACKING that time of release, and having to find it in a life suddenly turned nebulous after more than two decades of structure.
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