stupid people. . .

I can't help it. I really can't. I am thankful to have an above average I.Q. I am thankful to have exceptional schooling. I am thankful to be surrounded (for the most part) by people I consider to be highly intelligent. I am most thankful for those around me with much higher intelligence than my own (and I mean much higher. . .like Dr. White and Dr. Katie--their intelligence blows me away at times).

I like having long talks with intelligent people. I like reading what they have written (even if at times I don't really understand some of it. . .that refers to the few things I have read by Dr. White. . .hell I don't even understand the texts from which he's writing).

I don't have a problem with people that simply don't know better. Those people just can't help it. They wake up in the morning, and they simply don't know they are stupid, they get out of bed (maybe they put the right shoe on the left foot, but maybe not), and they go about their day.

Idiots on the other hand annoy me beyond belief. These are the people who know better, can help it, and simply don't. It is this category of individuals I find myself particularly upset with today.

A few days ago, while at work (so that is the first strike. . .) I was setting up the new Vista machines. We had placed all the laptops out the day prior so it was time to work on the desktops.

I had put three machines out (I was working my way from left to right) and was in the process of booting the fourth machine. The Windows Vista logo was prominent on the 22" wide-screen monitor and I felt a customer peering over my shoulder.

"Is that a Vista machine?" He asked me.

I looked back at him and then back at the screen to make sure "Vista" was still on the 22" screen.

"Yes," I replied biting my tongue.

"When are you going to start displaying them on the floor?" He asked.

I had to really stop and think. Was I still standing on the sales floor? Check. Was the computer on? Check. Was the Vista machine on and next to three other Vista machines? Check. Now, sarcasm was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't let myself say what I wanted to. I wanted to say something along the lines of, "Look moron, if you couldn't see that these machines are a) Vista machines and b) already on the damn sales floor, then you are clearly too stupid to own a computer in the first place, and you are clearly too stupid to even find your way home without a road-map and a GPS system."

I held my tongue. I continued setting up the machine, and I just let my blood boil.

Idiots shouldn't be allowed out of the house. Ever. They are the reason people go postal. Honestly. That's the reason. People are fine until one idiot wrecks their day, then suddenly they grab the closest weapon and wreck their entire environment.

Sorry, I'm ranting.

I got my first test back today in my first MBA class back. I got an A, and that makes me happy.

Down 21.2 lbs this year.

Good week.

Ω

Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you, you loved Mozart.
And you speak of your loved ones
as I clumsily strum my guitar.
Well excuse me, cause I've mistaken you for somebody else.
Somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself.
And these foolish games are tearing me apart.
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart...
You're breaking my heart.

the hook. . .

Maybe you're right
We've had a good time
I'll sit around, you get yourself a new life
Go get your spark
Go find your smile and get happy

I can't stop listening to Bowling for Soup. "Come Back to Texas" has one of the most amazing hooks I've heard in a long while. I don't know why I feel the need to create an entire blog to this song. . .but it's amazing.

By the way: Vista isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's pretty much garbage except for the boot up and shut-down times. That is a miracle. Less than 5 seconds each way.

Peace

Ω

any questions?!?

Questions.

We all ask them every day. Some are good questions, and some are better left un-asked. You know the kind I'm talking about:

"When is your baby due?"
"I'm not expecting!"
-----
"How is your wife?"
"We got a divorce."
-----
"How is your mother?"
"She passed away last year."
-----

Seemingly innocent questions can have absolutely damning responses. Your intent isn't to hurt someone (least of all yourself) but somehow your question pierces. Your words resonate in someone else's ears and it's suddenly all they can hear. Your words have brought about disdain to their ears, and likewise, their response, at least on some level, has caused you a certain amount of consternation.
Sometimes you can feel it. Sometimes, even before the question gets all the way out, you know it's a bad question. You can even feel the words floating off your tongue. You wish that they had mass. You wish you could reach up and grab them before they arrive inside the ears of the recipient. You know you can't, and that's a horrible feeling. You wince in anguish as does the person you're talking to.
Maybe you're good enough to play it off. In some cases, you are able to talk your way out of it. On rare occasion, I've been able to do that. On rare occasions, I've even been able to back out of it and have a seemingly decent conversation afterwards. Mostly though, I've simply relished at the flavor of my boot leather as I have tried to remove my foot from my oral cavity.
What about the other kind of question? What about the kind that you ask and you really don't want to know the answer to? I don't know what makes one ask that kind of question. You ask it anyway, and in much the same way as the previous type of question, you can see the words float off of your tongue, and you sincerely wish you hadn't asked the question. This time, however, there's a bigger problem than the embarrassment or temporary discomfort you face. This time, you wince because you know there's more coming. You know the next part is going to be even worse than the first. You know the answer is coming, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. You couldn't stop it if you wanted to, and you really want to. I've done it all my life really. . .
"Dr. Hsiao, what did I get on that test?" (the first time. . .not now)
"_____ are you really going to ask her to marry you?"
"This tastes funny. What's in this?"

Kevin Smith, in his Jersey Trilogy spent a significant amount of time depicting characters (in both Clerks and Chasing Amy) who had not only asked the question they didn't really want the answer to, but also labored over the answer. They labored over the answer so much that it consumed them. The answer didn't ruin relationships, but the character's inability to cope with the answer to the questions that they didn't really want to ask did ruin relationships.

"It's amazing what one can accomplish
when one doesn't know
what one can't do."

I'm a generally inquisitive individual. As people go, I would consider myself more inquisitive than the average individual. I've always liked to explore the unknown. I've always sought out answers to what seemed unanswerable questions. When I study, I tend to be obsessive compulsive about it. When I read a book, I find it hard to make it to the mid point of a book without "peeking" at the ending. In truth, that doesn't ruin the story. At the risk of sounding cliche, the means always interested me more than the end anyway. It's still that way today.
I've recently gotten in to the Alex Cross series of books by James Patterson. I started with the most recent book "CROSS" which has exposed many answers to the books prior (which I'm working on now), and those answers don't dissuade me from continuing my trek through the series. In fact, they only make me want to read them more.
That's the beauty of my inquisitive nature. Getting an answer isn't the end for me. Rather, it's usually little more than another beginning.

I digress. My point in writing this is more the questions we don't want the answers to. Why do we ask them? Dan is famous for the lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. He very often says whatever comes to mind. I love that about Dan. It's actually quite endearing. Most of us have come to expect it. In a room with Dan, keep your ears open, because it's coming sooner or later. My favorite part is, Dan knows when he does it. He knows the moment the words leave his lips that he's done it again. He gets this sheepish look on his face and his cheeks flush very slightly. He usually nods and says something to the effect of, "Yeah, I did it again."

Dan, I did it again too. I asked the question. I opened my mouth and let my tongue form the words I knew I didn't want to utter. I spoke them anyway. I regretted it almost immediately. I suppose that at least partly, I still do. A couple of hours have passed, and I can still feel my question hanging in the air. I wish there were some way I could simply reach up, wrap my fingers around them, pull them close, and save them for another time. A more appropriate time. I fear that the issue would perpetually exist: there would never be a more appropriate time. Somehow, that's strangely comforting. I am comforted to know that in the world of questions you don't want answers to, there is never an appropriate time to ask them. Not now, not ever.

Today, tomorrow, or two years from now, you still won't want the answer. In some way, shape, form, or fashion, you'll always be "Chasing Amy."

I hope you all are having a wonderfully silent moment. Ω

winter passing. . .

I suppose I could start out by making a half-hearted apology for failing to blog as often as I once hoped I could, and once swore I would, but it would be trite and contrived. It would sound that way too.

I was in Pittsburgh last weekend. It was wonderful. I have to say that I loved seeing J-Kidd and Leah as a couple. It dawned on me that it had been a while since I had seen that. I mean really seen that. I am so proud of the two of them and I am amazed by their endurance. There are times when you look at couples and you know that, "it's just right." This is clearly one of those times for me. Through all of the ups and downs I have always felt like they were so wonderful for each other. They both brought each other to different levels of "living." It was always so beautiful to see, and it is amazingly beautiful to see it again. It really makes me happy.

Maybe that's why I have found this past week so difficult. Maybe seeing Leah and Kidd so happy together and seeing Raffy enter a relationship with Alyssa (who saw that coming?!?) is what has made me so reflective so suddenly. I'm reflecting on her again. (Or on you if you happen to be stealing bandwidth and happen to be reading this--but I feel fairly safe in realizing you aren't doing either).

During Bible Study this week, we decided to just talk. We went around the room and talked about what was going on in each others' lives. I talked about her. I had been struggling with it since arriving back from Pittsburgh. I can't get her out of my mind.

I keep thinking about all the "what-ifs" in my life. She is hands down the biggest what-if I ponder. I had decided that I was going to be over it all. Through an entire week of absolute hell, I made up my mind that I wasn't going to deal with it any longer. I went to bed on Thursday night and actually kept myself up knowing that I wasn't going to hear from her ever again. I've tried my best to not call her (for the past couple of weeks I've managed to keep my self just busy enough to accomplish that Everest-esque feat). When I woke up on Friday morning, I felt like I was going to be ok with the whole situation. I felt like I might be able to move on. I felt like I had possibly given myself the permission I was seeking to move past the hurt. I felt like I might have gotten to the point where I could tell myself I wasn't in love anymore. I didn't love her any longer (no matter how untrue that statement happened to be).

The snow in my little globe had finally settled. I had grown accustomed to the chaos inside my head and finally realized that nobody was shaking my world any longer. In truth, it wasn't that the snow settled. The snow hadn't settled at all. I was so used to seeing the swirling snow that it became my normalcy. The snow just resumed it's normal agitated state. It started when she called. I was at work and my phone started vibrating in my waist. It isn't a new occurrence, and normally I don't even pay it much mind. This time was different. I pulled it off my waist to see her right foot (that's the picture that shows up when she calls).

My heart sped up and my mind began to race. The snow actually stopped. I could barely breathe. I couldn't even get the words "I'm going to have to call you later" out of my mouth. My mind raced. It's still racing.

We talked tonight. I am so not over this. I am so not over her.

Is the snow churning right now or has it stopped?

Am I losing my mind or am I becoming more sane by the second?

Who knows.

I certainly don't.

Ω

heaven is a lot like this. . .

So, I'm sitting in Sewickley, PA. It's 1:30 in the morning and I've got Shaw on my left, Dan on my right, Dugan to the left of Shaw, and Kidd laying in the floor. This is great.

I miss this place.

G

Happy New Year

"They say 3% of people use 5-6% of their brain,
97% use just 3% and the rest goes down the drain,
I'll never know which one I am,but I'll bet you my last dime,
99% think we're 3% 100% of the time!

They say 65% of all statistics are made up right there on the spot,
82.4% of the people believe them whether they're accurate statistics or not,
Now I don't know what you believe but I do know there's no doubt,
I need another double shot of something 90-proof,
I've got too much to think about!

Too much to think about,
too much to figure out
Stuck between HOPE and DOUBT,
It's too much to think about.

The average bank robber lives within say 20 miles of the bank he robs,
There's this little bank not so far from here I've been watching now for a while
Seems like lately all I can think about is how bad I want to go out in style.

Too much to think about,
too much to figure out
Stuck between HOPE and DOUBT,
It's too much to think about."

Statistician's Blues --Todd Snider

I'm not entirely sure where I'm headed with this one, so hang on tight, this ride may get a little bumpy. . .

Someone far more intelligent than I once said something to the effect of: "The longest distance a man will ever travel is the 18 inches between his head and his heart." (I wish I knew who to attribute that quote to, and if you know, please let me know immediately.) It seems I'm having trouble traveling that 18" these days. Lots of trouble.

My head is telling me I'll never see her again. My head tells me every single minute of every single hour of every single day that I will never see her again, never breathe the same air in the same room, never laugh out loud simultaneously during a movie that isn't even that funny. . . ever again. Apparently, my heart hasn't gotten the message. I don't know if the line is busy or if there is even a permanent disconnect. Man I hope there isn't a permanent disconnect.

Why is it so hard for me to convince one that the other is inherently wrong at this point? I should be able to convince myself of the truth (but which is the truth?). Will I see her again, or is my head correct?

I must change the subject before I scream. . .

Last night, I found myself sitting in a bar in Charlotte, NC full of belligerent incoherent drunks wishing like hell I was right there at that very moment (yes you read that correctly), but I wanted to swap out many of the attendees. . .and replace some of them with different people (mostly you if you're reading this). I was there with Raffy and Alissa (from Campbell), some of Alissa's friends from 'Jersey (Heather and Nicole to be exact--in order from left to right is Heather, Nicole, and Alissa).

There were certainly parts of yesterday evening that I wish were dramatically different, but at 1:30 a.m., I think my life changed. I was sitting on a bar stool fighting away the "sleep-ies," and the jukebox began playing a familiar tune. . .

"I have climbed the highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you. . ."

It occurred to me, that I, "still haven't found what I'm looking for." See? I told you it was going to be a bumpy ride. Hang on.

I sat there, on a bar stool, leaning over a warm beer that had been warm for almost an hour, looking at an unfinished tray of chicken wings, and trying to figure out how I had gotten "here." How on earth had I arrived at this point in my life? How had I let myself get to this point? How could I possibly have gotten to the point where I required so much humbling? Will I ever recognize the point that God is trying to push through my thick skull?

Looking back, I think my favorite moments of 2006 were the last 10 seconds of it. Standing there, with a ridiculous party hat on my head, a plastic glass of "Sparkling Wine" in one hand, and my other raised above my head in some sort of celebratory count-down maneuver, I watched the last 10 seconds of the worst year of my life fade away. . . 2006 became a part of my past and I can't tell you how happy I am to say that out loud. In one year I lost a job, lost a love, lost an apartment, lost my "way of life," and moved back in with my parents. 2006 treated me like a baby treats a diaper, and I am glad to see it gone. I'm glad to date all my checks with a new number at the end (not that I have any money to write checks with). I was glad to wake up today to a whole new beginning in a whole new year.

Even with the brand new year, the simple fact remains. . . "I still haven't found what I'm looking for." I haven't found it because I haven't looked like I'm supposed to. I have spent my life looking in all of the wrong places. I have spent my hours working towards goals that have no eternal hope. I have pursued things that will never last. I have tried time and time again to tell myself that I am centered on Christ. Am I?

I can't lie to you and say yes. I'm trying.

This year will be different. I'm not making any resolutions. I don't believe in them. I'm just making a commitment to myself.

"This year's love better last,
heaven knows it's high time,
I've been waiting on my own too long."

So help me God (and that's a prayer. . .), this year, I'm gonna find what I'm looking for. I'm gonna start, and finish in the right place.Ω