Until the wedding, I am a slave child to my mother and sister. It's difficult really knowing how I should feel about this whole process in the thick of so much endless work. I'm more prone to hopefull thoughts of the wedding soon being over, but I think it will be a much more realized feeling on the actual day of the wedding. Alot of stuff just doesn't make sense to me in the midst of happenings. I don't feel the way I think I should feel. After loosing Phillip, I don't feel like he's dead, but rather my mind catagorizes him as being on a long vacation. Maybe that's because I hadn't seen him very often after we both went to college, but it still feels weird. I know logically that he is gone, but my emotions don't seem to agree. Maybe that's because death has never been real to me before until now, so my emotions don't really know what to compare it to. It's been on my mind since I pulled over for a funeral procession on Eastchester today. The last time I saw one of those, I was in it. Brandon and I talked about it a little bit last night too. We both feel pretty similar and weird about the whole thing still. I don't know if that feeling will ever go away.
But I need work. I've got to make so much money between now and the end of summer it is rediculous! I've been praying for a steady job, but nothing has come my way as of yet. Thankfully, however, I've had several people offer me short-term jobs which have carried me this far through the summer, but with the wedding and all, I haven't been able to take all of the offered work. I've been super busy dealing with this. I just want to get eloped after all of this mess. I hope my wife doesn't want a complex wedding, but if she does... well then she does. I understand that it is a much bigger deal to women than it is to men. Women think about their weddings from the time they can walk upright. Guys don't think about their weddings until the day before, and by that time... why bother.
Oh, and it's a funny thing that communication and aggrivation rhym. I'm gunna stop there with that problem though so that I don't say anything stupid. I'm just suffering from lack of sleep, abundance of business, and very little opportunity to express myself.
Hope you all are doing well. Peace and love.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Needles and Carpentry
Well, I worked once more today outside which was quite enjoyable. I layed twenty bails of needles down in a yard before I left, but it only took 4 hours. In the process, I mannaged to fall on a cactus and get stabbed an inch deep in my leg by a needle! It hurt and I wanted to cuss at that cactus, but it would have been to no avail. Cacti have no ears. Anyways, after that I went with my mom to take some stuff over to my uncle's house for my sister's wedding reception. Man, this wedding is crazy! What will we do with ourselves when it is all over I should wonder? The closer and closer this thing gets, the more freaked out I am about the whole concept. I mean my sister went and got her marriage license today! Why am I so worried? It's not that big of a deal. I'm just too nostalgic I think. But I have been introduced to many a pondery during these times, the most prominent of which would be the desire to marry a woman who does not want an elaborate wedding. I am convinced that the process of getting married does not have to be a hell, but more of a pleasant relaxed formality of sorts. I have a feeling, however, that most women would disagree with me which is one more reason why... I just don't understand.
So my right fist looks like I punched a kid with braces right now. Why? Because I had a non-fight related accident today while working in my dad's shop. I was building a Ghanaian chair that I had seen in the market place and while I was moving a huge air compressor for a nail gun, a cabinet door caught my right ring finger knuckle. This is the second scar I have acquired in the past two years on my right hand. They aren't even an inch appart. The other one I got at work last year moving a mop bucket. Of course I don't tell anyone that I got it moving a mop bucket. That's lame. Instead I tell everyone that I got it in a bar fight in New Orleans in attempts to save a puppy and a kitten tied to the back of a roadster's motorcycle. Have I been to New Orleans? Have I been in a bar fight? Would I ever attempt to save a kitten? The answer to all of these is of course "No", but it sounds a whole lot cooler than "mop bucket". The chair, however, is a huge success. I could totally make more and then sell them on e-bay, but I'm to lazy to do either. Guess I'll just have to sit here and sulk about it.
Honestly though, I'm waiting for a phone call. I don't really have much to do tonight and I'm supposed to meet with a friend to give them some stuff I got while in Africa. There's a good possibility that they've forgotten, but whatever. I'll be able to find something to do tonight I'm sure. I mean last night I went to Barns and Nobles and read poetry because I'm a magnanimous nerd. I shant do that tonight though because I don't want to be labled with the title of a "regular" at the book store. "Yeah, there's that lonely guy that sits in the corner and reads poetry for great lengths of time. Who's he tryin to impress?" Lonliness and bordom are two seperate but closely related things. I am not lonely nor am I trying to impress anyone when I go. I just want a nice place to read where I just might run into someone familiar. It's sorta like hanging out in the quad at school except there, if you go, you'd better plan on not getting any work done because you'll run into most of the people you know within a few minutes. It's pretty funny. One person goes out and half an hour later, there's a small crowd gathered in their vicinity of people just casually talking. Either that or you might whitness there the people who take public display of affection WAY out of bounds. They're the ones who act as if they just had a wonderful time out on the town, drank some lovely red wine, and now have come back hand in hand to "go up stairs", except their definition of "up stairs" is actually in the grass about ten feet away from you, the guy who is trying to study. And through fragmented attempts of focus on your spanish or biology you think to yourself, "Would I really be all that suprised if her pregnancy results came back positive after an experience like this." But any third person walking by would still whitness a crowd, don't get me wrong. It's just that this crowd would be gawking and laughing at the flagrantly "open" couple making sweet sweet... entertainment for the rest of the campus. It happens y'all... It happens.
But anyways, that was a needless tangent with no relation at all to my day. Ironically, that is a summary of my life. Peace and love.
So my right fist looks like I punched a kid with braces right now. Why? Because I had a non-fight related accident today while working in my dad's shop. I was building a Ghanaian chair that I had seen in the market place and while I was moving a huge air compressor for a nail gun, a cabinet door caught my right ring finger knuckle. This is the second scar I have acquired in the past two years on my right hand. They aren't even an inch appart. The other one I got at work last year moving a mop bucket. Of course I don't tell anyone that I got it moving a mop bucket. That's lame. Instead I tell everyone that I got it in a bar fight in New Orleans in attempts to save a puppy and a kitten tied to the back of a roadster's motorcycle. Have I been to New Orleans? Have I been in a bar fight? Would I ever attempt to save a kitten? The answer to all of these is of course "No", but it sounds a whole lot cooler than "mop bucket". The chair, however, is a huge success. I could totally make more and then sell them on e-bay, but I'm to lazy to do either. Guess I'll just have to sit here and sulk about it.
Honestly though, I'm waiting for a phone call. I don't really have much to do tonight and I'm supposed to meet with a friend to give them some stuff I got while in Africa. There's a good possibility that they've forgotten, but whatever. I'll be able to find something to do tonight I'm sure. I mean last night I went to Barns and Nobles and read poetry because I'm a magnanimous nerd. I shant do that tonight though because I don't want to be labled with the title of a "regular" at the book store. "Yeah, there's that lonely guy that sits in the corner and reads poetry for great lengths of time. Who's he tryin to impress?" Lonliness and bordom are two seperate but closely related things. I am not lonely nor am I trying to impress anyone when I go. I just want a nice place to read where I just might run into someone familiar. It's sorta like hanging out in the quad at school except there, if you go, you'd better plan on not getting any work done because you'll run into most of the people you know within a few minutes. It's pretty funny. One person goes out and half an hour later, there's a small crowd gathered in their vicinity of people just casually talking. Either that or you might whitness there the people who take public display of affection WAY out of bounds. They're the ones who act as if they just had a wonderful time out on the town, drank some lovely red wine, and now have come back hand in hand to "go up stairs", except their definition of "up stairs" is actually in the grass about ten feet away from you, the guy who is trying to study. And through fragmented attempts of focus on your spanish or biology you think to yourself, "Would I really be all that suprised if her pregnancy results came back positive after an experience like this." But any third person walking by would still whitness a crowd, don't get me wrong. It's just that this crowd would be gawking and laughing at the flagrantly "open" couple making sweet sweet... entertainment for the rest of the campus. It happens y'all... It happens.
But anyways, that was a needless tangent with no relation at all to my day. Ironically, that is a summary of my life. Peace and love.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
What Tans and Farting Have in Common... Or Don't
I tried to post yesterday, and it was long, and it was amazing and insightful, but it was also erased because of dial up service. Good times. I'm not even going to try to say what it was that I said simply because I don't feel like it.
I worked today though. It was yard work so it was something that I was good at. I enjoy a fair amount of yard work because there is just something about working the earth with your hands that provides a satisfaction unlike any other. You can stand back when you are finished and say "Yeah, I did that." But I'm getting a pretty killer farmer's tan as a result of Africa and today's seven hour outdoor workfest. Chicks dig the tan though, but that's more of a curse really. A girl might be interested in me in the summer or early fall, but as soon as my tan goes, magically so does she. Happens almost every year. I mean I've never gotten far enough in a relationship to where it's even okay to simply fart in her presence! As a result, most of my dating experience has been uncomfortably bloated, but I don't care enough to go to a tanning bed. It's their loss really. They will never know what great joy can be found with a pasty white Nathan.
Related, I suppose, is the battle I have declared on myself. I will not date girls from Belmont this year by simple principle. It does not work for me. It's too distracting and out of control for me to have a close distance relationship with a chick at the same school... But knowing me and the vast stack of medical bills resulting from having to have my foot surgically removed from my mouth, I wouldn't be suprised, rather disappointed, if I ended up being a moron again. We'll see. I anticipate the year though and can't wait to go back to school. I have a steady job there, friends to hang out with whenever I want that are less that a few steps away, and my own place to sprawl out and relax. It's nice.
Right now I'm putting efforts into growing back the glory hair (long hair). It is in perrill though. Grace is getting married in like two weeks and I fear she might demand me to cut it. I would be very much saddened.
But okay, here's my discouragement of the day. I try to call someone to talk to them because I think they would be concerened to hear about my trip like they were before I left, but I end up looking like a rediculous moron because I attempt calling so many times, giving thought to the possibility that they might have missed the last two messages I left or they might have just totally and legitimately been too busy to respond. And it's totally more than one friend that does this to me. There are like three! I think maybe I'm learning a few things from the past FIVE YEARS of this discouragement... or maybe not. Maybe I just don't care as long as they don't mind going through all of my annoying messages. Yeah... now that I mention it... I guess I really don't care all that much. They usually have a good excuse. I wrote a song anyways, that I might leave on my next message. It goes like this...
" When I leave a simple message
You never respond
So I thought I'd be unorthadox and write it as a song
With the hopes that it will work
And you'll call me back you jerk
So we can continue
So we can continue
So we can continue
To be
Good
Friends... (end music) Sike, just kidding, I'm not mad. Call me."
I wrote that while I was clipping bushes in the hot hot sun. Explains alot. So now that I have addressed my day and vented my discouragement, I shall clean up and eat. It will be delightful. Peace and love my pretties!
I worked today though. It was yard work so it was something that I was good at. I enjoy a fair amount of yard work because there is just something about working the earth with your hands that provides a satisfaction unlike any other. You can stand back when you are finished and say "Yeah, I did that." But I'm getting a pretty killer farmer's tan as a result of Africa and today's seven hour outdoor workfest. Chicks dig the tan though, but that's more of a curse really. A girl might be interested in me in the summer or early fall, but as soon as my tan goes, magically so does she. Happens almost every year. I mean I've never gotten far enough in a relationship to where it's even okay to simply fart in her presence! As a result, most of my dating experience has been uncomfortably bloated, but I don't care enough to go to a tanning bed. It's their loss really. They will never know what great joy can be found with a pasty white Nathan.
Related, I suppose, is the battle I have declared on myself. I will not date girls from Belmont this year by simple principle. It does not work for me. It's too distracting and out of control for me to have a close distance relationship with a chick at the same school... But knowing me and the vast stack of medical bills resulting from having to have my foot surgically removed from my mouth, I wouldn't be suprised, rather disappointed, if I ended up being a moron again. We'll see. I anticipate the year though and can't wait to go back to school. I have a steady job there, friends to hang out with whenever I want that are less that a few steps away, and my own place to sprawl out and relax. It's nice.
Right now I'm putting efforts into growing back the glory hair (long hair). It is in perrill though. Grace is getting married in like two weeks and I fear she might demand me to cut it. I would be very much saddened.
But okay, here's my discouragement of the day. I try to call someone to talk to them because I think they would be concerened to hear about my trip like they were before I left, but I end up looking like a rediculous moron because I attempt calling so many times, giving thought to the possibility that they might have missed the last two messages I left or they might have just totally and legitimately been too busy to respond. And it's totally more than one friend that does this to me. There are like three! I think maybe I'm learning a few things from the past FIVE YEARS of this discouragement... or maybe not. Maybe I just don't care as long as they don't mind going through all of my annoying messages. Yeah... now that I mention it... I guess I really don't care all that much. They usually have a good excuse. I wrote a song anyways, that I might leave on my next message. It goes like this...
" When I leave a simple message
You never respond
So I thought I'd be unorthadox and write it as a song
With the hopes that it will work
And you'll call me back you jerk
So we can continue
So we can continue
So we can continue
To be
Good
Friends... (end music) Sike, just kidding, I'm not mad. Call me."
I wrote that while I was clipping bushes in the hot hot sun. Explains alot. So now that I have addressed my day and vented my discouragement, I shall clean up and eat. It will be delightful. Peace and love my pretties!
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Different
I just got back from Ghana last night after a two week mission trip in the tropical African country. I feel somewhat strange right now. I'm not incredibly sure if I was ready to come back. I have my problems, but I admit that they seem a bit small now. But if you really want to know about the trip you're going to have to ask me in person because it's just too much for me to write about. On the tirp alone I was only able to have time to write about 50 pages in my journal. There was really that much to talk about. But I've changed alot. I feel different after returning this time which is also weird because I have been on enough of these trips to be used to whatever comes my way. I don't know, I feel pretty crazy right now. There's just too much going on upstairs to be able to write a great deal right now. My preception on existence and relationships has completely changed and it feels good. That's all I gotta say. Peace and love.
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