(screenshot from The 400 Blows; song reference here)
Today on Snow Day, Pt. 2, I've been trying to come up with ideas to form a cohesive narrative structure for a new blog post. However, I couldn't string together much more than a paragraph or two for each idea I had (lack of sleep + lack of Dr. Pepper look to be the main causes), so I'm going to try something different with this. Here's a set of shorter vignettes/ideas/thoughts I've had as of late that I'll try to put into words on a typing machine which may or may not add up to some sort of thematic ideal in the end. I think I'll apologize in advance for the lack of sense this is likely to make.
Snow
I'm in year 21 on this planet and I'm still unable to properly conclude how I feel about snow. It's a fantastic thing to look at (I doubt that I've ever heard anyone argue against the idea of a winter snowstorm being beautiful), but the severely limited transportation/the fact that it's still quite cold can't be underestimated as major negatives. Then again, I haven't been to class or work since Monday thanks to this, so...yeah. There is no conclusion, I'm back where I started at, I knew this would happen, and I'm really sorry. (This is more or less the plot of Bicycle Thieves.)
#Blessed
I have no idea if this is exactly a blasphemous or offensive thing to discuss, but I can't stop thinking about it for whatever reason: how have Christians helped make the word "blessed" a new-age social media joke? Admit it: it's hilarious when used in a joking manner, but some of us who are Christ followers are unable to laugh sometimes (thankfully, I don't think I've been in this group since early freshman year). Let's set a few quick ground rules: it's okay to say you're "blessed" by a person/God/etc. However, please never ever ever ever EVER use #blessed in a serious manner. I'm begging you. We'll call it a new social media etiquette, because the same people who use #blessed repeatedly and seriously are the five people you know who still worship Joel Osteen.
Buckets
No one cares about this except myself and two others, but college basketball is really fantastic and you should start watching it before March. Also, watching basketball teams that aren't Tennessee are a wonderful distraction from watching a Tennessee basketball team that defines "Tougher Breed" as "repeatedly slamming your head into the same wall for two hours." I'll stop talking about this subject before I get in too deep.
20@20
If you know me at all, you know that the idea of music as something more than background noise is very important to me. I believe that under the right circumstances and with a solid mindset towards looking for a deeper meaning, a person can have a thorough and strong connection to a piece of music of any kind (as long as it's not the abominable "Party Rock Anthem"). I've lost count of how many times I've experienced this, whether it was through my typical pessimistic disposition (Red House Painters is my go-to here) or a sunnier one that makes me think of summer (also known as the only time listening to Neon Indian/the like is acceptable).
I get asked quite often about what I've been listening to or what I would recommend to people (no this isn't a humblebrag I promise), so I thought I would do a quick section on a few favorites of mine. I'm linking readers to a Spotify playlist of 20 songs that are personally important to me in different ways, whether I listened to them for the first time in high school and they changed how I listened or in that they're just unbelievably addictive and lovable. (This is the same reasoning that allows The Big Lebowski to be on the same list as Citizen Kane.) The playlist is titled 20@20 because I'm 20 years old (LOLOL I'm so creative!!!) and 20 is a nice, round number. Also, to clarify: this is NOT a list of my 20 favorite songs of all-time, but rather a good starter list of sorts. (They'd all be in my top 100, at least.)
No Depression
I never realized how important it was to understand what kind of person you were until I made it to college. I never would have been able to admit that I was depressed from time to time in middle/high school or that I have a rather unnerving case of social anxiety, but I've often made it known on the internet (read: this blog and whoever messages me about it on Facebook) that I struggle with both of these things. It's part of who I am, and I have to be comfortable with it and understand that these are road blocks in my life that I've had to comprehend and deal with for the past few years.
A couple of really fun things about this, though: it took me a long time to realize that I wasn't alone in my struggles, but when I did, it was the most freeing feeling I can recall having. Fellowship ran a video a few months ago featuring an older gentleman who deals with depression each day, but still worships the Lord with a full heart and a loving mindset. That's the type of person I want to be. (Maybe not depressed every day, of course, but life's pretty boring if you're happy all the time.) Also, social anxiety hasn't been quite as much of an issue since I embraced my inner introvert and started picking out no more than three people to talk to in large groups. (Sorry, others who are not one of the three. I'll rotate.) (The title of this is likely misleading; it's a reference to an Uncle Tupelo album.)
Aimless
Confession time: I've watched every episode of HBO's Girls. Far more embarrassing: I really enjoy the show. I'm not sure if it's the soundtrack (which is as good as you'll find on television today, besting even Broad City) or the fact that I can identify with the struggles of aimlessness and inadequacy that the characters face. Girls is a very sexualized show, so it's not exactly the easiest to defend or identify with. However, the struggles they face are very real - the show essentially revolves around the main character, Hannah, failing to find consistent work two years after graduating college, along with the poor life decisions she makes as a consequence.
The idea of being unable to find a consistent job after I finish my studies is honestly terrifying, and I worry more about that than I really want to admit. It's all part of the "let go and let God" ideal for me which I'm trying to apply more to my life, but it's very hard to think this way sometimes when I'm sitting on a laptop at the age of 20 with a part-time job, fighting my way through school and trying to meet the high expectations I have for myself and for my life.
Along with this, I still have anxiety issues that are at least partially influenced by the paragraph above. Hannah does as well, although hers leads to the point of a hospital and psychiatric visit along with her parents stepping in. After watching the final three episodes of season 2 (the anxiety story arc takes place then), I realized I had never related to a television character quite as well as I did Lena Dunham's Hannah. After sitting through so many bad decisions and bad breaks of Hannah's character, I finally saw her heart behind all of them. Hannah is a person inside all of us: terrified of failure, nervous when it comes to big life decisions, and sometimes reactionary to the point of (accidental) self-harm. For me, I can relate, because I've been all of these things and I still am. It's a daily issue for me, but I'm trying to be less worried about it and more knowledgeable of God and His control of my life. No one ever said life was easy; we just have to take it as it comes.
Polar Opposites
(Modest Mouse)
Pretty much everyone knows this by now, but I work with middle schoolers at a Catholic school in Bearden, a not-exactly-West Knoxville neighborhood but more or less a West Knoxville neighborhood. I work with lots of different characters and children. While it can honestly be quite the frustrating and overwhelming work experience some days, I don't regret a single day worked there.
Recently, though, it's been a little more difficult. Because I'm taking 19 hours at Tennessee this semester (which I could have avoided, but being under pressure can be enjoyable), I don't get to work there as consistently, which hasn't exactly helped my relationship with the children or the other workers at the school. Because I get asked about this often, it's probably better for me to get my feelings towards my situation out through text because talking is terrifying and/or the worst. Don't worry too much about me; the eighth-graders and I are still best friends for life.
I have no idea if I'll be returning for a third year at the school next fall. Situations are changing and I think it may be best for me to move on to either a different school or a different job. I still want to become a middle or high school English teacher, but it could be a good thing for me to relax a little before the internship portion of the Education program starts, if I'm accepted. Working at a law firm or a warehouse is a complete polar opposite from working at a school, but I think the time may have come to change things up a little bit.
Words
Shocking news straight out of a study room in Hodges Library: I greatly enjoy writing. I realize that it isn't exactly the most fun thing to do on a Friday afternoon where I have a somewhat open slot in my schedule, but there are few things I'd rather be doing. Writing is a fantastic therapeutic exercise in which I can write down a lot of words seven people will read (let's shoot for eight with this one! HOV!) and have a strong taste of "whatever idc" in my mouth about it.
Going back to the idea of me not exactly being the best at putting my words into a speech form that can be translated into something vaguely resembling English, it helps for me to understand what I'm actually thinking and writing about when I type it out on a word processor of some sort. It's quite enjoyable to read my own thoughts (this is basically the young white male version of laughing at your own jokes or vibing to your own raps) and figure out what's been bothering me as of late.
Perhaps that's why I like to have a self-imposed word goal of at least 2,000 in every essay/collection of essays/post. I'm sure everyone who reads these has to have some appreciation of word vomit, because I'm pretty unapologetic about how much I go off on really inconsequential things in life. This entire section relates back to (essentially) my struggle with self-confidence and figuring out who I am, because I'm big into self-deprecation (more on that in a minute) and keeping my profile low. I feel as if I'm being called to take a deeper look into this and become a more confident person, which is quite a challenge for me. Maybe that's a new goal for 2014, because I have a feeling Christ would like me to be a little less self-hating at some point in my life.
Fever Dream
Full disclosure: this week I had a small surgery on my foot (if you're all fine with this and would like to keep your lunches, I won't give any more details), so I haven't been the most active person with anything, whether it was social media, walking to Chipotle, or waking up on time for a meeting. That's not the point of this story; the doctor I was with was quite the nice guy, striking up a conversation with me about the education system in America and how ridiculous the idea of getting out of school for an inch of snow was (although it did end up being for good reason).
The guy gave a couple of prescriptions, one of which was a pain medication. He kind of failed to inform me that the pain medication made you feel like you were on cloud 87 and it was quite terrifying walking to class while trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if things were actually happening. (I'm finally living out every David Lynch film!) Life seems like this sometimes when ridiculous and previously incomprehensible things happen: is this real or is it imagined?
There are so many twists and turns that it's easy to get lost; I covered this in a different format a couple weeks ago. I don't know if there's a point or an answer to trying to determine what life's surrealism really means, but I'm enjoying the ride right now, regardless of if I remember anything that happened from 12 to 2 Thursday afternoon. (Don't worry, it's a one and done medicine in the sense of I took it once and I can't bear to have that happen again.)
Outro
I have no idea what I just wrote, in all honesty. Sorry about that. However, there's some loose connections tying these short vignettes together: an internal power struggle, road blocks keeping me from full commitment, irrational interests, and a hope to be better. These are very general concepts, but I think I can go out on a limb here and say these are all items that we, as humans, can potentially relate to.
I want to apologize again for being less cohesive than I would've liked to be in this post, but for the reasons discussed much earlier, I ran into a bit of a case of writer's block this week. With that said, I still wanted to get out my thoughts in some form without ranting and yelling at people and/or walls and/or other inanimate objects. Thanks for reading. (Still terrible at conclusions, you guys!)
It's just a dream he keeps having and it doesn't seem to mean anything,
Will
I never realized how important it was to understand what kind of person you were until I made it to college. I never would have been able to admit that I was depressed from time to time in middle/high school or that I have a rather unnerving case of social anxiety, but I've often made it known on the internet (read: this blog and whoever messages me about it on Facebook) that I struggle with both of these things. It's part of who I am, and I have to be comfortable with it and understand that these are road blocks in my life that I've had to comprehend and deal with for the past few years.
A couple of really fun things about this, though: it took me a long time to realize that I wasn't alone in my struggles, but when I did, it was the most freeing feeling I can recall having. Fellowship ran a video a few months ago featuring an older gentleman who deals with depression each day, but still worships the Lord with a full heart and a loving mindset. That's the type of person I want to be. (Maybe not depressed every day, of course, but life's pretty boring if you're happy all the time.) Also, social anxiety hasn't been quite as much of an issue since I embraced my inner introvert and started picking out no more than three people to talk to in large groups. (Sorry, others who are not one of the three. I'll rotate.) (The title of this is likely misleading; it's a reference to an Uncle Tupelo album.)
Aimless
Confession time: I've watched every episode of HBO's Girls. Far more embarrassing: I really enjoy the show. I'm not sure if it's the soundtrack (which is as good as you'll find on television today, besting even Broad City) or the fact that I can identify with the struggles of aimlessness and inadequacy that the characters face. Girls is a very sexualized show, so it's not exactly the easiest to defend or identify with. However, the struggles they face are very real - the show essentially revolves around the main character, Hannah, failing to find consistent work two years after graduating college, along with the poor life decisions she makes as a consequence.
The idea of being unable to find a consistent job after I finish my studies is honestly terrifying, and I worry more about that than I really want to admit. It's all part of the "let go and let God" ideal for me which I'm trying to apply more to my life, but it's very hard to think this way sometimes when I'm sitting on a laptop at the age of 20 with a part-time job, fighting my way through school and trying to meet the high expectations I have for myself and for my life.
Along with this, I still have anxiety issues that are at least partially influenced by the paragraph above. Hannah does as well, although hers leads to the point of a hospital and psychiatric visit along with her parents stepping in. After watching the final three episodes of season 2 (the anxiety story arc takes place then), I realized I had never related to a television character quite as well as I did Lena Dunham's Hannah. After sitting through so many bad decisions and bad breaks of Hannah's character, I finally saw her heart behind all of them. Hannah is a person inside all of us: terrified of failure, nervous when it comes to big life decisions, and sometimes reactionary to the point of (accidental) self-harm. For me, I can relate, because I've been all of these things and I still am. It's a daily issue for me, but I'm trying to be less worried about it and more knowledgeable of God and His control of my life. No one ever said life was easy; we just have to take it as it comes.
Polar Opposites
(Modest Mouse)
Pretty much everyone knows this by now, but I work with middle schoolers at a Catholic school in Bearden, a not-exactly-West Knoxville neighborhood but more or less a West Knoxville neighborhood. I work with lots of different characters and children. While it can honestly be quite the frustrating and overwhelming work experience some days, I don't regret a single day worked there.
Recently, though, it's been a little more difficult. Because I'm taking 19 hours at Tennessee this semester (which I could have avoided, but being under pressure can be enjoyable), I don't get to work there as consistently, which hasn't exactly helped my relationship with the children or the other workers at the school. Because I get asked about this often, it's probably better for me to get my feelings towards my situation out through text because talking is terrifying and/or the worst. Don't worry too much about me; the eighth-graders and I are still best friends for life.
I have no idea if I'll be returning for a third year at the school next fall. Situations are changing and I think it may be best for me to move on to either a different school or a different job. I still want to become a middle or high school English teacher, but it could be a good thing for me to relax a little before the internship portion of the Education program starts, if I'm accepted. Working at a law firm or a warehouse is a complete polar opposite from working at a school, but I think the time may have come to change things up a little bit.
Words
Shocking news straight out of a study room in Hodges Library: I greatly enjoy writing. I realize that it isn't exactly the most fun thing to do on a Friday afternoon where I have a somewhat open slot in my schedule, but there are few things I'd rather be doing. Writing is a fantastic therapeutic exercise in which I can write down a lot of words seven people will read (let's shoot for eight with this one! HOV!) and have a strong taste of "whatever idc" in my mouth about it.
Going back to the idea of me not exactly being the best at putting my words into a speech form that can be translated into something vaguely resembling English, it helps for me to understand what I'm actually thinking and writing about when I type it out on a word processor of some sort. It's quite enjoyable to read my own thoughts (this is basically the young white male version of laughing at your own jokes or vibing to your own raps) and figure out what's been bothering me as of late.
Perhaps that's why I like to have a self-imposed word goal of at least 2,000 in every essay/collection of essays/post. I'm sure everyone who reads these has to have some appreciation of word vomit, because I'm pretty unapologetic about how much I go off on really inconsequential things in life. This entire section relates back to (essentially) my struggle with self-confidence and figuring out who I am, because I'm big into self-deprecation (more on that in a minute) and keeping my profile low. I feel as if I'm being called to take a deeper look into this and become a more confident person, which is quite a challenge for me. Maybe that's a new goal for 2014, because I have a feeling Christ would like me to be a little less self-hating at some point in my life.
Fever Dream
Full disclosure: this week I had a small surgery on my foot (if you're all fine with this and would like to keep your lunches, I won't give any more details), so I haven't been the most active person with anything, whether it was social media, walking to Chipotle, or waking up on time for a meeting. That's not the point of this story; the doctor I was with was quite the nice guy, striking up a conversation with me about the education system in America and how ridiculous the idea of getting out of school for an inch of snow was (although it did end up being for good reason).
The guy gave a couple of prescriptions, one of which was a pain medication. He kind of failed to inform me that the pain medication made you feel like you were on cloud 87 and it was quite terrifying walking to class while trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if things were actually happening. (I'm finally living out every David Lynch film!) Life seems like this sometimes when ridiculous and previously incomprehensible things happen: is this real or is it imagined?
There are so many twists and turns that it's easy to get lost; I covered this in a different format a couple weeks ago. I don't know if there's a point or an answer to trying to determine what life's surrealism really means, but I'm enjoying the ride right now, regardless of if I remember anything that happened from 12 to 2 Thursday afternoon. (Don't worry, it's a one and done medicine in the sense of I took it once and I can't bear to have that happen again.)
Outro
I have no idea what I just wrote, in all honesty. Sorry about that. However, there's some loose connections tying these short vignettes together: an internal power struggle, road blocks keeping me from full commitment, irrational interests, and a hope to be better. These are very general concepts, but I think I can go out on a limb here and say these are all items that we, as humans, can potentially relate to.
I want to apologize again for being less cohesive than I would've liked to be in this post, but for the reasons discussed much earlier, I ran into a bit of a case of writer's block this week. With that said, I still wanted to get out my thoughts in some form without ranting and yelling at people and/or walls and/or other inanimate objects. Thanks for reading. (Still terrible at conclusions, you guys!)
It's just a dream he keeps having and it doesn't seem to mean anything,
Will
