12.27.2005

Does anyone interpret dreams?


In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was my friend Abby. We were at PLU even though Abby goes to Western Oregon University. We entered the gymnasium together, and there I witnessed a scene so ridiculous that I almost woke up. In the center of the gym, two Down Syndrome kids were engaged in an Ultimate Fighting Championship match, of which Abby was the referee. Her deaf and mute boyfriend Brent was announcing the match. He had a microphone and everything. I was on the floor with my friends, cheering for the UFC fighters, and a third Down Syndrome child was preparing to fight the winner of the current match. To the side of the gym was a stage with choir risers. On the risers, a choir composed entirely of Down Syndrome children stood singing. And there my dream ended.

10.19.2005

Another Reason to Hate...


Kyle woke up at 4 P.M. yesterday. I had gone to 4 classes and had 2 tests by the time he stumbled out of his hellish mess of blankets and despair, bringing to mind a discussion we had last week:

Kyle's cell phone alarm went off sometime in the evening as a reminder to do laundry, eliciting the response, "God I hate that alarm!"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I used to set it as my alarm in the morning."

Kyle went on to reveal to me that any form of auditory stimulation used for rousing him from bed becomes a target of his hatred. He used to set his C.D. player as an alarm, but he began to hate the first couple of tracks on every single album that would play in the morning. This reveals an innate hatred of morning in Kyle, a hatred which is so deeply set that it finds reason to pit itself against the most potent display of emotion known to man--music. But then, Kyle knows nothing of emotion. He is a ruthless automaton with no feelings, and even less of a soul. But perhaps that's the way he wants it. I just know better than to try to awaken him from his cold, uncaring slumber. Then he'll hate me almost as much as I hate him.

10.12.2005

My hero of the day!



Behold, all readers of my blog! Here is my hero of the day! For the 2nd time in the past month! Cheers, Joel.

10.11.2005

Lazy Jerk



This is my roommate, Kyle (the pompous jerk). Today is Tuesday at 3:30 in the afternoon. Kyle just got back to our room with his breakfast. I'm serious.

Pompous Jerk



"Everything that could possibly be done wrong, you are doing."
--Kyle, in reference to my clapping

"I am the sun and air."
--Kyle

Me: "Kyle, why do you speak?"
Kyle: "To enlighten those around me."

Me: "I'm a genius."
Kyle: "I AM your source of inspiration!"

Me, after creating this post: "Hey Kyle, check out my blog."
Kyle: "HOLD ON!!!"

10.08.2005

Relative Gloom



"Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars."

     --Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

10.06.2005

Swahili??



On Saturday night, I had the distinct displeasure of taking my friend Linnea to the emergency room for a badly sprained ankle. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy Linnea's company, but St. Joseph's Hospital in Tacoma isn't the most fun place to be at midnight on a weekend. There are all types of different people present--some interesting, some scary. One of the more interesting people I met on this particular occassion was the man pictured above. Let's call him Earl. Well, I started talking to Earl (who only speaks Swahili) about his family and particular ailments. We actually took well to eachother, and he told me a story in Swahili. He must have also told it to another guy, because I found the same story online! So, if you want to read it, the picture is a link. I'm too lazy to translate it and retell it here. Enjoy!

10.05.2005

Heather's life






This is the beautiful Suzzallo library on Red Square at the University of Washington, which consumed most of my sister's summer. Since she didn't get to go to Bolivia like she wanted, she did the next best thing: lived in Seattle and worked at Suzzallo. She got so bored sometimes that she'd call me at UPS and leave 10 minute messages about taking pictures of Korean women and reading through pamphlets on effective study habits. It was really bad. I love my big sis!

Ha



A little bit of toothpastefordinner.com, anyone?

10.04.2005

1940's Tudor Gothic



My new home: the School of Music at the University of Puget Sound. I don't live in this building, but I might as well. They even have animal crackers at the front desk so you don't have to interrupt practice time to do petty stuff such as eat a meal! Today they had oatmeal raisin cookies too, and even though I don't like raisins, these things were delish. Trust me, they made my heart skip a beat--in cut time.

8.01.2005

Moses and the Bulrushes


Well, there she is. My family's annual boating destination, and the greatest wakeboarding lake in the state. Moses Lake has provided my family with countless memories. We have stayed in ant-infested hotel rooms; we've played games of water polo with greased watermelons in undersized hotel pools; we've created card games; we've eaten at Chico's Pizza Parlor more times than any human is capable of counting; we've buried dishes from Goodwill with the hopes of using them again the following year; we've engaged in more battles* than Napoleon; we've snuck alcoholic drinks into Diet Coke cans; we have even sought the Great Blue Heron of Moses Lake himself! But, most importantly, we have learned myriad important lessons from our father. These times of instruction are rare, yet always applicable to real life. Every time we go to Moses Lake, Jeff, Heather, and I all gather around Dad, begging for tidbits of his mature insight, for our eyes have seen the glory of his dispensation of wisdom!! Over the years, we have all grown greatly in respect of Dad's amazing intelligence. One thing that we have learned in our Lessons with Father is that his vast wisdom and superior intellect render him capable of studying various forms of life and retaining vital facts about their respective existences. My personal favorite? The Common Loon, of course! Did you know they mate for life??? Oh, and by the way, we saw the Great Blue Heron of Moses Lake. Once. He's pretty lonely.

*Battles not fought with actual guns and swords. Primary weapon of choice is water.

6.13.2005

1974 Coronet


Recently I went to my friend Jeff's house to help him with yard work. While there, we discussed cars, school, jobs, and our multi-faceted issues with the opposite sex. It was a great bonding experience; I've found that nothing helps secure a friendship quite like working and sweating together. In fact, we first cemented our relationship as weight training partners in 10th grade. During this bonding time, we also unexpectedly got to use a chainsaw. Apparently, Jeff's father has always wanted a certain bush to be removed but had never found the time to do it. It just so happened that he was out of town for the weekend, so Jeff's mother asked us to remove it and surprise him. We looked at her, and looked at the bush. Slowly and perfectly synchronized, our heads swiveled toward eachother and our eyes met. I could see the twinkle in his eye and knew that he could see the same in mine. It was a beautiful moment, but was broken off by our full-out sprint to the tool shed.
It took us about 2 hours to remove this huge bush; all the while, we were able to release our pent-up aggression and anxiety through the majesty of the blade. We took a step back, put our hands on our hips, and admired the handiwork of our destruction. Immediately following this accomplishment, masculine butt slaps and back pats were exchanged.
As we took the chainsaw and the gas can back to the tool shed, we passed by an old garage on Jeff's seemingly boundless property.
"What's in there?" I inquired.
"Oh, a couple of my dad's old cars."
"Can I see?" I eagerly wondered.
"Sure, why not?" replied Jeff.
As he lifted the old white door, I simultaneously became aware of two things: the smell of primer and the scurrying of rats to escape the now-entering sunlight. It became instantly clear that this old garage was scarcely frequented. But why not? Why shouldn't someone want to come back here more often? On one side of the garage rested a 1974 Dodge Coronet, gray with primer and somewhat rusted. On the other side, a white 1964 Chevrolet Impala graced my line of sight. Neither was in great visible shape, but Jeff informed me that both ran quite well.
I circled around the side of the Coronet in order to take a peek at the engine. When I lifted the hood, I involuntarily gasped.
"Holy fornication! This thing's got a 440! I bet it really moves!"
Jeff seemed amused. "Yep. Sure does! In fact, it's my dad's old patrol car." Jeff's father had been a cop in California during the 70s and 80s.
"You ever put this thing on the freeway?" I hinted, a touch of provocation in my voice.
"Yeah...you wanna take her for a spin?"
Needless to say, I took Jeff up on his offer immediately. The two of us climbed in and Jeff started up the old behemoth. Soon we were flying down Highway 512 at 90 mph, careening from roadsign to Jersey barrier and back again. When we got to the 512/Interstate 5 interchange, we decided to take I-5 North.
"You know, it's been awhile since I've been through Canada," I chimed in, "Why don't we go there?"
"Great idea! When we're there we can get some cream soda. Did you know it's PINK in Canada?" Jeff shouted.
"Yeah, weird Canucks!"
As the sun set to our left and laughing drowned out the radio, the two of us continued our adventure, knowing there'd be many more ahead.

6.07.2005

The Benediction

To all those of you out there who are going through change soon, as am I:

"No one will be able to stand up against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.... Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
--Joshua 1:5-9 (NIV)

It occurs to me as I reread this passage that it it just as applicable today as it was when God spoke it to Joshua over 3,000 years ago. If God is for us, who can be against us? There is also a covenant in this passage: "Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go." I say "covenant" instead of "promise" because there's a very important difference: a promise implies unconditional follow-through, whereas with a covenant, we must keep up our end of the bargain to reap God's benefits. This is my prayer for the class of 2005: Follow God's will in your life and submerge yourself in His Word so that you can be sure of your footing once you enter college, the working world, the military, or whatever other aspect of life you may pursue. In times of change, a solid foundation in Christ is absolutely essential. Hold onto your ideals! Don't let corruption dissuade you or work its corrosive ways in you, but instead rise above your difficulties and hand them to God to deal with. In short, hold onto your faith in Christ and He will hang onto you. Never compromise, never surrender, and never underestimate your fullest potential.

6.05.2005

Why?

Why does everything come down to the question "why?" Even that question, in essence, comes down to "why?" Think about that for a second.....weird....But I digress. Tonight, at my senior ball, the last high school dance I'll ever attend, I found myself asking "why?" multiple times. This was not at all the fault of my lovely date, nor the fun-packed group I went with. No, to quote Led Zeppelin, it was "nobody's fault but mine." "What," you might ask, "What was nobody's fault but your own?" Well, at least that's better than "why." I found myself struggling anew with a battle of desire, a battle that I thought had ended favorably months before. I found myself looking into the past and wondering what had become of my life, and most importantly, why it had become such. I had a wonderful relationship with an awesome woman of God. We both learned and grew as individuals in our time together, a feat notable amongst today's high school relationships. We pledged ourselves to follow God's will in all events and circumstances, and, to the best of our ability, we did. We made mistakes, as everyone does. We learned from our mistakes, as many do not. We lived loud, laughed long, and loved luxuriously. 13 months to the day this relationship lasted--an eternity to high schoolers. But why did it end? I must have done something wrong. I must have cheated on her, or lied to her, or been an utter jerk to her. I did not. She must have desired another man, or needed more alone time, or wanted to get her priorities straight. She did not. She simply fell out of love with me. May the Lord curse my young and foolish idealism! We broke up; we had to. I was promised that she didn't want it to end this way, but in the end, it didn't matter. In no way was it a wasted relationship, but it was over. Through no fault of my own, I had lost a wonderful part of my life. This girl brought me closer to God. She changed my life, opened my eyes, and broke my heart. Here is an obvious place for "why?" to enter. And it did, make no mistake. But I recovered. I spent time with friends, discussing my feelings like a true man. I worked through it, and in about a month was comfortable with her as a good friend--what we had been before. I was proud of my maturity, proud of my ability to pull through and get over her, and even more proud of our friendship. It was a true testament to the solid foundation of our romantic relationship. Obviously, if we were still friends after such a potentially ugly breakup, we had based our relationship on friendship. That was 6 months ago. Since then, she has been involved with two others, and is currently dating a good man. I have no problem with her current relationship, and consider the two of them friends of mine. I have not pursued a relationship, but have spent time with friends, schoolwork, and my never-ending music practice. But tonight as I engaged in my Senior Prom, several factors combined to bring my heart to its knees. I won't cover those factors; this post is long-winded enough already. But all that security of having recovered from this dead relationship disappeared. I had been questioning my feelings lately; were they still there? Did I still desire our old relationship? I hoped not, but as the night endured, it became overwhelmingly clear to me that I did. WHY? WHY? Am I not over this girl? Can I not move on? Why not?? I know we had many good moments, but in our last months together she had shown me almost no affection of any kind. I was frequently blown off and hurt by her resistance to my kind actions. And yet I cannot see that our breakup was for the best? Why not? What am I missing, God? And yet through all my confusion and striving to know the future, I am reminded of Job's encounter with God. Job questions the Lord's will extensively--"I cry out to you, O God, but you do not answer. I stand up, but you merely look at me. You turn on me ruthlessly; with the might of your hand you attack me. You snatch me up and drive me before the wind; you toss me about in the storm. I know you will bring me down to death, to the place appointed for all the living." Though he never utters the word, Job is obviously questioning fiercly in his heart, "Why, God? Why?" God is never hesitant to answer. And He is never one to mince words. "Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it?...Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!" Like Job, what can I say? "I am unworthy--how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer--twice, but I will say no more." God, work your will in my life, whatever it may be. I'm sorry for my weak faith; have patience with me, and never give me over to my sin.

5.28.2005

Time


"Ticking away, the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Picking around on a piece of ground in your hometown,
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you'll find 10 years have got behind you
No one told you when to run; You've missed the starting gun.

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way,
The time is gone, this song is over, thought I'd something more to say."

--Pink Floyd, "Time"

Take a moment to think about what you've just read. What practical implication does it have in my life? "No one told you when to run; You've missed the starting gun--" Have I lived my life to it's fullest potential? Our entire education system in America is geared toward preparing for a future, a future that begins at some unknown date. We are told to do our schoolwork and complete our projects to enhance our ability to deal with this future--once it gets here. Because of this, students at all levels miss out on a very important concept. Life doesn't start when you get a career, when you have a family, when you pay taxes; life is NOW!
I remember very vividly a baseball game 6 years ago. I was 12 years old, playing third base. It was a morning game; the sun was at my back, and I felt it warming my neck. The sky was a light, brittle blue, with sparse cotton candy clouds overhead. My glove, broken in perfectly, felt like an extension of my left hand. As I stood and surveyed the scene, drinking it in like smooth hot chocolate, I remember thinking something that had never crossed my mind before. "Hold onto this moment! Don't wish it away! Someday you'll be as old as your brother and will have to decide on college and leave home. You won't have time to play baseball then, and you'll be too busy to enjoy life like you do now. Don't wish for more responsibilities, more freedom. They'll come in time. For now, just play baseball!" We all should adopt such an attitude about life.
I am in no way, however, advertising myself as perfectly content and patient at all times. Halfway through this post, I realized that I ironically fast-forwarded through the 2 1/2 minutes of introduction to "Time" just so I could get to the words and copy them down. Why would Pink Floyd record that 2 1/2 minute intro if it wasn't of vital importance to the theme of the song? Through this time period, the Floyd alternates between two chords, E and F#m. Once in the 2 1/2 minutes, an A chord is thrown in. It's so simple, so mundane--at first glance. Upon further examination, the song builds up from nearly nothing, gaining momentum without increasing tempo thanks to increased subdivision from percussion and added stylistic flair in guitar backgrounds. So what's the point? Simply this: the introduction of the song is just like the beginning of life. It seemingly exists for only one purpose: to build up to or prepare for the lyrics, a.k.a. a job or family. In actuality, this time is just as important as the remaining 4 1/2 minutes. One's youth doesn't "build up to" anything; it is equally important to adulthood and must be lived out to its fullest potential.
Another story from my youth: I remember thinking that if I ran hard enough toward the sunset, it would never disappear. This does, after all, make sense in theory. But logic soon put an end to my daydreams. This is not to say, however, that one's life should be ruled by logic. Daydreams and creativity play a huge role in childhood, and are very healthy to mental development. Why doesn't this trend carry through into adulthood? Instead, logic overwhelms the playfulness and beauty of young age. Supposedly logic is superior to imagination. Again I ask, why? Most people forget that both logic and imagination are creations of man. Aristotle was a mere man, and he is responsible for creating the basic framework of our current logic system. I maintain that logic and imagination should share equal parts in adulthood. But I digress. I believe I was speaking of my naive assumption that I could chase the sun. Even if I dedicated my life to this goal, the sun wouldn't change--but I would. My body would grow old, and I would definitely become "shorter of breath." We struggle in vain for so many transient things, but never realize that our life is slipping away without leaving a positive mark on the world.
I have very little else to say. I've spent my time wisely on this posting, because hopefully it will convince others to make good use of their lives. We don't start living later, we already have!

P.S.: Simply put, "Hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way" is one of the best lyrical phrases ever. Thank you, Pink Floyd!

3.17.2005

actual lines found in high school essays....

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of Ecoli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River (*blogger's note*--My personal favorite!).
18. Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
26. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
27. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
28. It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

2.28.2005

Happy Birthday, big sis!


The purpose behind this beautiful bit of blogger bliss is to boast of my big sister's bountiful being! Indeed, she has existed for 21 years as of today, and I believe that is a momentous feat! Speaking of feet, look at those cute little five-toed pedals! Anyway, she's gotten a lot bigger than that now, and has grown a lot more hair. But she still enjoys swimming in strange fluids, whether it be placenta or Green Lake. If you see my sister in the next week, be sure to wish her a happy birthday. And Joel, you totally owe her a Placenta Pie. Happy Birthday, big sis! I love you!

2.24.2005

Big Sister, Bigger Brother


This is a picture of my brother and sister when they were younger. Quite frankly, my mom thought the scene was hilarious, so she photographed it before pulling the giant spike out of the doll's heart. I know, it's kind of morbid, but it helps you understand why I'm the way I am...weird. In fact, once, my brother and his friends put Heather's Skipper barbie in the microwave! Ha! Anyway, she has spots on her legs now, and I probably ripped her head off sometime along the way. Good Day.

2.23.2005

My Dad


Now THIS is my dad. Even though it's a pretty old picture of him, it's obvious that he's the one who taught me guitar and harmonica. He's so talented he can even play them both at the same time! Wow! I wish I could do that, but I'll give it a couple years. That guitar that you see is the one I learned on. Someday, if you're at my house, ask to see it, and I'll show it to you! It's in pretty bad shape now. Anyway, I love my dad. He's great! And if you ask him, he might teach you guitar, or harmonica, or even BOTH!

2.21.2005

My Big Brother


This is my big brother. If you don't read my blog and say nice things about it, I'm pretty sure he will end you. Look at those arms! Anyway, I used to be able to beat him up, but not anymore.

2.18.2005

Ode to the Angry Lady



With a murderous clamor
She vomited her undying rage
Burning up homes and trees,
Angry like a bear in a cage.
Her heat melted snow,
Her ash covered all.
Her forces of explosion
Caused countless trees to fall.
The banks grew calm then,
her crater renewed its cool.
The silence surrounded me
And screamed like a ghoul.
Now 25 years later
She is traversed and worn
A favorite spot for tourists:
And many has she borne.
Trees sprout firm again,
Anchors amidst the barrage.
Their roots grow deep
And bear witness to carnage.
She is natural beauty in the
Form of natural strife.
Through causing so much death
She has finally given new life.

2.14.2005

My Big Sister


This is my big sister. As you can see, she has some issues. I'm thinking about getting her a makeover for her birthday. I guess for now she likes the natural look better. Anyway, at least her teeth are white. And she flosses.

2.13.2005

Fly

Days pass him by
Like a blur in life
Confidence is shattered,
Broken by a knife

Content in misery
Given over to strife
Wondering why
He wants a different life

He wants to fly,
Soar above it all
Find another way
To break down the wall
He wants to fly,
Soar above it all
Find another way
To break down the wall

Questions plaguing
Polluting his mind
Like what is the reason
For a simple life?

Lost in confusion
Searching for right
Hoping he'll live
Long in this life

He wants to soar
Avoid the fatal fall
Find a thing called love
Break down the wall
He wants to soar
Avoid the fatal fall
Find a thing called love
Break down the wall

There must be more to this
There must be more to this
There must be more to this life

He wants to fly
Soar above it all
Find another way
To break down the wall
He wants to soar
Avoid the fatal fall
Find a thing called love
Break down the wall

--Lyrics and music by John Carlsen, Jr.

2.07.2005

Mein neuer Flugzeug!


Schau, Ich habe ein neuer Flugzeug gekauft! Hier ist mein Düsenflieger! Ich fahre die ganze Welt mit dem Flugzeug. Jeden Tag fragen meine Freunden, "Dürfen wir in deinem Flugzeug fahren??" und jeden Tag muss ich "Nein!" sagen. Wirklich, mir ist egal, aber das freut mich. Gestern hat mein Hund aus dem Teppich gekotzt, und ich war wirklich böse! Der Hund versteht nicht, dass dieser Flugzeug ein neuer Flugzeug ist! Ich kann nicht Erbrochene beflecken haben! Aber sie sind halb so schlimm als Pisse beflecken. Pisse beflecken sind furchtbar! Übrigens, mein Hund kommt an der Flugzeug nie mal!

2.04.2005

Zombie Doom!


I thought you guys might be getting tired of all this writing. Here's a nice color picture for you! Yay! Keep your fingers away from that guy though. He looks grumpy.

2.03.2005

My Bad

In reviewing my blog's archives, I discovered that I have made an error not easily excused. To those around me, my family, friends, my loved ones, my blog reading faithful, to you indeed I must apologize. Deep in the annals of my blog have I discovered a promise that has gone unfulfilled, a declaration that has gone unheard, a dream that has gone unrealized. I rediscovered my article from July 26th, 2004, in regards to changing my middle name to Zeppelin. In this succulent piece of crafted language I argued the finer points of this name change, and ultimately arrived with the conclusion that I cannot in sound mind refuse Led Zeppelin this honor. I informed my blog-reading public that I should undergo this process immediately upon reaching adulthood. Alas, that time has come and gone! I have reached 18! I can smoke, I can vote, and I can register for the Draft! I have indeed done all three things, and yet one duty has remained undone. To this duty I pledge my life, my fortune, and my sacred honor. I must now become Justin Zeppelin Ehli. And take heart! I shall! For if I were not to fulfill this quest, this desire, this need for life, I should deny my blog readers truth. Am I not merciful? Am I not true? To whom have I lied? What stories have I fabricated? To what point and purpose would I fail to reach my destiny?? From this point I take my leave. I am off to the State to alter my identity. Farewell, my faithful. If I do not return, know that I have died not in vain, but for truth, honor, and integrity! The quest be not sacred that is not guided by truth, and this quest, I assure you, is in the charge of veritable purpose. Ay! Until my next writing, stay faithful and strong, my brothers.

2.02.2005

Life is Beautiful

Wow, it's been over 2 months since I posted in this! I'm sure no one will read this because my hoardes of faithful readers have all moved on to greater aspects of their lives....But now I'm ready to move on too! As a senior in high school (i know, high school was forever ago, huh?) I've been trying to figure out this thing called "College" (College is the thing that almost every single one of my readers attends--Go Dawgs!). Well, turns out you have to "apply," and hopefully you get "Accepted." Then you have to pay this stuff called "money" to get an "Edumacation." So now that you are familiarized with the schooling process, I shall inform you how I'm coping with this.
Two weekends ago, Sat. Jan. 22nd, I was at Central Washington University, one of the two schools I'm applying to (the other is UPS). Both of these schools are at the top of my list because they both have exemplary music programs with renowned directors. So I was at CWU for the John Moawad Jazz Festival, which they hold every year, and I was the featured soloist (trombone) on one song. After our performance, on the way to our adjudication room, I ran into Mr. Larry Gookin, director of bands at CWU. He said he was impressed with my solo, and we talked about college, and my grades, and music, and other instruments, etc. He then proceeded to inform me that I could get my tuition waivered if I got my application in within 2 weeks. Pretty sure I'm going to Central.
In other reasoning, UPS is 26,800 a year, plus the snooty attitude, minus their director who's leaving next year, minus their current professor of Tuba and Euphonium (who's also leaving and is my current euphonium instructor)....and Central has a great professor of Trombone. And it would be totally good for me to get away from home, though I don't necessarily desire to. And here's the sealer on the whole deal. My favorite restaurant ever is the Campus U-Tote-Em in Ellensburg, across the street from Central. No contest. I'm goin for the burger joint.
In other news, today was the end of first semester. It occured to me over the weekend that since all my transcripts and applications are in, none of my senior year matters as long as I graduate. Wow! What a feeling! So today, being the end of semester, was a half day, and one of the most beautiful days of the year. I went out with friends and played Ultimate Frisbee for 2 hours, which helped me realize how bad my cardio-vascular system is. I've been in weight training all year, but that doesn't work much but the muscles. So I can't run very well anymore. But it felt really really good to be hot and sweaty and have an asthma attack and then drink lots of water and run around some more. Don't ask me how that works, but it totally does. If you know Ultimate, you know what I mean. I hopefully will play again tomorrow, as there's no school all day.
I just looked back at what I've written so far and I realized that this blog is becoming what I never wanted it to be: an actual blog. I'm telling you about my day. I'm not sharing random facts, I'm not showing cool pics, I'm not writing long dissertations on nothing at all. I'm not ranting, I'm not raving, I'm not exposing my genius to an otherwise ignorant world. I'm not chanting, jiving, or even undulating; I'm blogging. Horror of Horrors!