Archive for March, 2009

The Blog With HOB And You

I’m not one to say I have it all figured out.  Indeed anyone who claims to hold the key to understanding the entirety of the mysteries of this world I find myself immediately shoving into a quarantine of sorts for observation.  Yes, there are things that can be known for certain, but there is also an infinite amount of knowledge that we as humans just can not wrap our heads around…even if we DID manage to come across something resembling potential profound insight and understanding. 

 

Sometimes I drive even myself crazy by the roundabout and liberties-taken ridden sentences I manage to thread together. 

 

(Seriously.)

 

I went to House of Blues last night in Anaheim.  I’d been planning to go for probably over a month, or whenever it was I found out that two of my favorite bands would be playing there.  A good friend of mine has a brother who works there, so we were given the tickets gratis.  The BF was working, so it ended up just being the two of us.  My brother happened to be there with his almost-sometimes-significant-other-ish-girl, so the four of us managed to stay together for what would be an amazing show.  I don’t know what it is about concerts, but they always manage to provide more than enough fodder for trains of thought that end up taking off into mental quests ending with some sort of epic realization and the subsequent reality of a fork in the road of life.  Maybe it’s just the happenstance timing of when I end up going to shows, but this always seems to be the case.  Last night was no different. 

 

There were a few elements to fuel my thought process that night.  The lack of my present extracurricular interest (read: man), the presence of family and friend, the fact that I was about to partake in a show centered around God – Someone I’ve been somewhat wrestling with for the last six months or so, and an incredibly random sighting of someone I first saw when I was 17, then actually met at 18, and sort of knew until I was 19 or 20.  I’ll get to the significance of all these, though I’m not sure they’ll tie in together in such a neat and tidy package.  Let’s see, shall we?

 

The man.  I’m not going to go into details of our relationship.  We’re great.  Long term, well…

 

Family is an odd one.  I’ve referred to myself as the Black Sheep of my family for years.  If you’ve been around for any amount of time, you’ve probably heard this and its explanation before.  For the newcomers, I come from a VERY conservative, English, Christian, and proper household.  My brothers did things by the book.  Both went through High School normally, one of them being Valedictorian, both being varsity soccer players, both went to a Christian College, one married the cutest little blonde haired and blue eyed girl next door and the two of them are currently living happily ever after…sigh.  Me…well, I did independent study through high school because I was involved in the entertainment industry, only went to school up through half of my Junior year then got out early, was working from 15 onwards, and then there was the rest of my life.  I did a lot, saw a lot, got tattooed and pierced and had every hair color under the sun, hung out with older people, and refused to fit some sort of idealized mold.  Well, refused isn’t quite accurate.  There have been times where I fit the mold of my family quite well – and happily at that.  Thing is, it’s a battle.  It’s a moment to moment, second to second, takes everything in me just to stay on one side of the fence battle.  I have long lamented my inability to do things simply or take the easy way out.  I’m not Type A.  I realized last night…

 

Then there’s God.  I made something similar to peace with that wrestle a couple weeks ago.  I don’t understand Him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love Him.  Love is a choice.  I don’t get why he allows certain things in life to happen, but I am not one to judge God.  He gave us free will, and ultimately He is not responsible for the end result of the domino effect that we ourselves set off by our own choices.  I realized last night…

 

The crush I mentioned is oddly enough the spark that started the process of pulling all this together into something resembling coherent.  I was at a worship conference when I was 17, and I remember looking to my right and seeing a guy standing there completely wrapped up in worship.  He was tall, dark, ridiculously good looking…but it was the posture he held himself in and where his focus was that grabbed me.  It was the most attractive thing I think I’ve ever seen.  Somewhere in me something resonated, almost recognized a counterpoint of sorts and I said to myself “…someone like that”.  I didn’t meet him that night, but I DID meet him a few months down the line by chance when I began attending a new church.  Eventually we talked – and there was honestly nothing there.  The tongue tied crush was in full force…but we had nothing to talk about.  Zero.  He’s married now, and all is well.  So, last night…

 

I realized how ok I am with the end conclusions of each of these.  There’s far more to life than concern over men and the potential nonsense they bring with them.  Granted, the deepest hurts have been at their hands…but their reprehensible acts of free will by no means represent an act of God.  There have been maybe two people I’ve sincerely wondered if they were the one I’d marry in the end.  The funny thing about that is, even if God has created and willed it so, both parties have to choose it.  One I’m realizing may well have been intended for me…but his free will dictated him to lose self control when it came to me and destroy anything that could ever have been.  The other, well, time will tell. 

 

I can’t tie the above paragraph to what follows very well, so let’s just move on.

 

Knowing how different I am from my family, but how remarkably similar I am in the ways that matter has brought a strange amusement at myself.  God didn’t make me to be just like them.  He didn’t make me to be just like ANYONE, that I’m completely fine with that.  Recognizing who I am also helps me see the ones around me in a different light.  No need to get into that. 

 

So many thoughts…none of them done justice.  I’m sure there’s more to follow. 

The Blog With HOC

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The Blog With John Mayer’s Nonsense

John Mayer can be a tool.  I love his music, and my GOD do I have some pretty incredible memories to go along with some of his songs (grin), but still.  Tool status is sadly an issue.  However, being a member of the land called Twitter, I admit I chose to follow him not too long ago.  Since then, he’s posted a few things that have piqued my interest and a couple in particular have caught me off guard with their legitimate depth of insight and potential for inspiration. 

You can be greater than your track record. Greater than the sum of your parts. You can be greater than has ever been hinted at… DO IT.

And another from a a few days ago…

WhiteYou do know that any time you decide you want to be different you can just start, right?

Yep, John.  You’re good for more than just fluffy lyrics that I’m sure helped some dude somewhere get laid.  I’m just sayin’. 

The Blog That’s A Quickie. (Not like that)

I recognize that the rollercoaster of my life can be attributed to choices of mine that can either be categorized as super or crap.  The direct results of said choices may be minute compared to the gravity of say, Hiroshima, but still their consequences tend to make my life rather turbulent and (sadly) at times akin to a really badly written soap opera. 

I could go on for quite a while on the realization of my part to play in all this, and I could even go on with the rather fitting metatphor that hit me as I was writing the above paragraph about likening life to a movie script and how really, if you don’t like how it’s written and directed…then you need to look at who’s doing the writing and directing…(I’m SO writing that later)  But for now, my point is not to be sooooo serious.

I’m drinking a Trader Joes Kids Apple Juice Box.  It delicious.  Before that, it was a package of tuna for lunch with merely Ketchup to grace it’s protein goodness.  I realize that the concept of a fishy substance masqued soely in that of pureed tomatoes with a spash of vinegar and whatever-the-heck it is that makes this alternative form of the Tomato so much more palitable than it’s original form, probably just made someone regurgetate some of their own lunch (hopefully not Tuna, though the irony I would find amusing).  Still, it’s simplicity and health factor I find quite enjoyable and appealing. 

That’s really the point of this little quickie.  I’m in one of those tragically rare good moods where the little things in life hold that much more joy.  I finished with the gym a little while ago – a good hour and a half of weights and cardio, before taking a shower and heading back to the office.  I am blessed.  I have a fitness center at my work place (as well as soccer fields, basketball courts, tennis courts, and a baseball diamond) and the liberty to use it at will.  Really, I am blessed to have a job in general, let alone one which tops most charts of awesome when it comes to the perks. 

I realized this morning that I seldom smile.  Not really.  I’m good at the fake, tilt the head, dorky smile that you awkwardly offer to aquaintances upon arrival.  But it made me sad as I drove through the security checkpoint on campus this mornig and realized that my brief interraction with the guard consisted of a movement of the mouth that was more of a grimmace than anything resembling joy or good will.  How sad.  After noticing this, my day has followed in a different mindset.  I don’t like my typical way of handling the world.  It’s always on the defensive, even down to the aversion of showing joy.  I often don’t even acknowledge joy to myslef out of fear of losing the happiness to some sort of set back or stroke of ill luck.  Either way, this is my baby step to not being such a bummer. 

Baby steps to not being a bummer, baby steps…