Allow Me to Express Myself

How exactly does one go about expressing oneself? is there a standard formula, and i just missed that lecture. because, i thought that one should not feel obligated to fulfil a role projected onto them by friends/society/culture/family/etc. i thought that one should be able to feel comfortable with whoever they are, despite outside influence or pressure. i thought that stereotypes weren't always a good thing. i mean, i realize that stereotypes arise for a reason, as in ther might be some truth to some of them. but, that does not mean that everyone encompassed within a particular demographic is/acts the same way. i thought that people are all unique. everyone has different personalities, traits, characteristics, talents, abilities, feelings, thoughts, etc.

you know what i'm tired of? being asked to conform. why should i? why should i sacrifice my true self just to fulfill a role "predetermined" for me by some greater force? franlky, i refuse. i won't do it any more. i want to feel comfortable with who i am, doing whatever i want to do when i want to do it, wearing what i want to wear, saying what i want to say, and doing all of that how i want to do it. i find it so sad that many conform just to "fit in." social pressure can be a nasty beast™. i, myself, am guilty of it. and, everytime i think of how i sacrificed my comfort or true self just to please others, i get depressed. i truly do.

why can't i just be me without being labeled? if i am not perpetuating the stereotype of one demographic, then i'm obviously the opposite (i.e if not black, then white). once again, in the spirit of self-improvement, i WILL be myself. i will NOT compromise who i am any longer. if someone does not like that, too bad. if someone does not like me for me, then screw them. i know this may sound harsh, but it's the way things need to be. it shouldn't be harsh at all, because we should ALL be accepting and embrace the differences and uniqueness of others. period. yet, this is not the way the world works. there are many assholes out there. if you are angry at what i'm writing, then you probably are one. if you agree with me, we are cool. let's be friends.

i find it appropriate to end with a quote by one of Dartmouth's most famous alumni: Dr. Seuss. He said so simply, yet so eloquently, "Be who you are and say what you feel because the people who mind don't matter and the people who matter don't mind."

take care of yourselves, kiddies!

Bubble Boy

Besides being a rediculous movie, i've found the term "bubble boy" to have some personal application. that is to say, i suppose i am a bubble boy. i live in a bubble. i have a clearly defined comfort zone which i don't often like to leave or have penetrated. we all have our bubbles to a certain extent, though the degree to which we can all survive outside of our bubbles of comfort varies greatly.

some people have their comfort zones which merely serve as rest stops between trying all sorts of new activities and expereinces. these people frequently enjoy the thrill of "testing the waters," so to speak, of new endeavors which may be, in turn, taken up as a new hobby or regular occurance. others choose to stay within their realm of comfort for a variety of reasons. some could just be satisfied with their established routine, as they may have found a formula for life that seems to work. why go fixing something if it isn't borken? others could be scared of the unfamiliar elements and potential pitfalls which exist outside of their bubbles and prefer to stick to what they know as a result.

i suppose i encompass a bit of both reasons why i like to stay in my bubble of comfort. i have a nice routine in my life which works. i seem reasonably satisfied with life, and hardly any major tragedy rolls my way. why would i ever want to leave? frankly...it gets boring. no one wants to lead a life of monotony. we (humans-i assume we are all humans here) all somewhere, even if burried really deeply, have an inate desire for adventure. maybe it's a lingering child-like spirit or just an active imagination, but we all thrive on fun and excitement. many do all that they can to avoid a stagnant routine.

so, im the spirit of self-improvement in the new year, i will leave my comfort zone more often. yes, it is a scary place outside of what i know, but i'm willing to take some chances. only through taking chances can we know what new thing or experience we may fall in love with, or maybe even detest. but at least i will have tried. if not, i can always speculate on what would have happened if i did something out of my ordinary, but i most likely would only feel regret. regret is a terrible feeling. i don't like it. it's nasty. and ugly. and has a small penis. (ha, take that, regret!)

moral of the story is...(drum roll) TAKE CHANCES/TRY NEW THINGS. you may find your new favorite hobby. you may find the love of your life. you may make the team. you may get the lead in the play. you may find a new major. you may end up living there for the rest of your life. you may challenge all that you previously believed in or held true. you may fall on your ass. but, just get up, dust yourself off, and try something else. make the uncertain certain.

Till we meet again kiddies!

Easy To Bake, Hard To Swallow

Here's a bit of an essay i wrote recently (cause i'm too lazy, busy, and un-inspired to write anything new). the assignement was to write about a personal experience in which i was either affected by gender or war. i chose to write about gender:

Christmas embodies a time of joy, excitement, and as much as Christians surrendered to the secularization of the holiday refuse to admit, a time for presents under the decorated Douglas fir. The Christmas season, for many, also represents a time of innocence and wonder, surrounded by an aura of magic and enchantment. For one young boy, particularly naïve and spellbound by the advent of Christmas each year, the season meant that Santa Claus would come to town, provided he exemplifies good behavior throughout the year (or at least a month before the December 24th deadline). Every Christmas morning at 7 a.m., after a night of feigning sleep, I would race down the creaking, brown, carpeted stairs, half blinded by fatigue, to see the presents sprawling across the living room floor. Boxes containing clothing and toys fanned out from under the illuminated eight-foot pine in the far right corner of the room. Santa had selflessly bestowed his benevolence on me under the cloak of night. Yet, once again, one gift from my “wish-list” remained absent.

I had seen the commercial dozens of times: the grinning children, two girls and one boy, stuffing miniature freshly baked goods into their faces. The Easy Bake Oven appeared on my Christmas wish list to Santa every year from ages 7 until 10; yet, it never arrived under my Christmas tree. The cakes and cookies and cupcakes prepared by these children, my peers for goodness sake, made me want to reach through the television screen and snatch one. These smiling, selfish brats would remove the cakes from the oven after only minutes of preparation. Their expressions revealed a menacing delight in their accomplishment, almost as if to boast of their treasure and my misfortune as the envious spectator. They proceeded to slather the goods with creamy chocolate frosting and a light dusting of rainbow sprinkles. These three kids devoured those cakes as if their last meal ever to be consumed.

My Christmases, nonetheless, always brimmed with a bounty of joy and family merriment. Santa would always go above and beyond the reasonable amount of gifts for any child. Nonetheless, I always wondered why Santa would never bring me this one simple appliance able to bake a personal pastry in mere minutes. I mean, it had only appeared on my list for four consecutive years. I first thought that only one aspect of my behavior had faltered and prevented Santa from ever gracing me with this present. When my mother finally explained to me that she acted as the “Santa” who bought me so many gifts for all the years of my childhood, I responded rudely, “Thank you. Wait, why didn’t you ever get me an Easy Bake Oven?” Ungratefully, I felt disappointed and betrayed that my own mother overlooked the one gift I truly wanted for so many years. I would not have minded as much if, in fact, strange portly fellow in a red suit had neglected my wish. My mother explained that an Easy Bake Oven “is a girl’s toy.”

“A girl’s toy?” Only girls can bake delicious cakes in just a matter of minutes? A boy certainly appeared in the commercial, grinning from ear to ear as he chomped into a moist cupcake. My eyes nearly pooled with tears. My gender had prevented me from enjoying the thrill of making my own desserts with whipped frosting and a festive array of sprinkles. I thought any child should be able to enjoy cakes and other treats, regardless of gender. What importance does gender serve in baking, as long as the desserts equally delight the palate?

I have since forgiven my mother considering her tireless efforts to provide me with the best possible childhood and Christmases every year. Also, having purchased my khakis and jeans in the “husky” section of the children’s department of clothing stores, a section tucked into the corner as if to stash the heavier youngsters out of the view of valued customers, I certainly did not need any more fattening pastries in my diet. Just the thought that my gender, however, made me miss a chance to operate my own personal bakery helped me see the roles children assume from an early age at the urging of society. Since my discovery of the Santa fraud, I have vowed to bake a cake and cookies every Christmas Eve only now using a conventional oven.

Uninspiredly yours, kiddies.

Manly Men

Another day, another moment to ponder the world.

Yesterday, I was required to read this speech delivered by a Dartmouth Alum named Leonard L. Glass called the "Dartmouth Animal and the Hypermasculine Myth." He basically talked about the days of Dartmouth in the 60s when he was a student. This was a time when Dartmouth was still single sex and held fastly true to the image of life portrayed in the classic college movie Animal House. He described a time when the men of Dartmouth would go above and beyond to upkeep their masculine images. Anything contrary was regarded with skepticism. The worst thing you could have done to yourself back then was be caught acting "effeminately" or "homosexually." As a man of Dartmouth you had to constantly prove you manhood and virility, acting in an extreme fashion which Glass terms "hypermasculinity." He stated, "At Dartmouth the guys are tough, virile, and unbelieveably horny, barely contained until their infrequent orgiastic encounters with women...yet had very little opportunity for heterosexual interaction."

I found Leonard Glass's speech to ring forth much of the truth about society today as was true of society 40 years ago. The Dartmouth animal is alive. He may have decreased in size, but he exists. This Dartmouth animal is merely the child of an animal roaming the entire world, not just the hills of New Hampshire.

I attended an all male private high school in Baltimore, MD where I suppose the "Gilman" (my school) animal roamed campus. Homophobia and subtle subscription to stereotypes were rampant. Anything against the norm of virility was deemed "gay." For example, if there was a speech or lecture which wasn't particularly interesting or important, a student may call the speech gay. I would often ask, point blank, if they indeed meant that the speech or lecture preferred sexual intercourse with speeches or lectures of the same gender. I would usually get a weird look or an awkward laugh, but inside i would smile at my personal triumph, at least in my own mind. Too often I have seen men suppress their "feminine" emotions and inclinations for fear of being stigmatized.

Thankfully, at Dartmouth, this beast is relatively subdued. I have not witnessed any firsthand discrimination against "feminine" men or homosexuals. That is not to say it doesn't exist. I hear the football teammates of my own roommate often refer to non-reproductive objects and concepts as "gay." I often wonder what is so terrifying to men to embrace their "feminine" and "masculine" qualities together. Why is there such shame and disgrace associated with being gay? I admire the courageous individuals who, gay or straight, are not afraid to express themselves despite the urgings toward the "norms" of society. So many hide themselves out of fear or shame projected onto them. They are angry at the way they are. As Glass stated, it's "far more acceptable to be 'pissed off' than tearful or confused."

I only pray that we may all find the courage to be ourselves, even if that defies the traditional conventions of gender or any other other so-called "defining" quality. May the beast of hypermasculinity die out with a generation of courageous peoples prepared to fight againt the cost of being shamed, abused, or ostracized.

Attempting to tame the Dartmouth Animal, Unitedly yours kiddies!

Where Do We Go From Here

Sorry y'all about falling off this weekend. i had a super, super busy weekend and didn't even have a minute of time to write anything. sorry to those of you devoted fans who i promised that i would make this a daily thing. i will try my best to get caught up this weekend, or at least post something each day.

so yeah. i had a nice weekend to relax and reflect....well, be busy as hell and squeeze in a little time for reflection is more like it. i mostly thought about MLK and the persisting struggle for civil rights in America. i thought about black people. i thought about where we stand as a race. are we united? are we divided? are we standing strong? have we fallen? are we falling? i also thought about other minority groups in America. i thought about the state of justice and equality in this country. i don't necessarily mean legal or social equality, but the equality of different people in the mind. certainly prejudices and hatred still exist and persist, but what will it take for everyone to truly believe that all people are created equal? i came to several conclusions and thought about the plight of minorites (particularly blacks) in our nation.

the african american people are extremely divided. if we arent pursuing the american dream we are taught to idealize in our society, the one of a suburban home with a white picket fence and 3 cars and 2.5 children, then many of us are stuck so far in the perpetuation of poverty and self-deprication that it will take many many years to rectify. much of this derives from the negative images projected upon us by stereotypes and racism. i suppose i am an optimist in the sense that i believe we can be equal one day. though, i am a pessimist in the sense that i believe it will take a very very long time. we have come very far, but we have a long way to go. yet, we get caught up in the notion that material possesions are the measure of success and worth. that accounts for much of theft and other violent crime. what we cannot have, we take. it's a natural instinct. what many feel they must have to have worth they will take from others because there seems no other option. we are naturally set up to fail in a system which perpetuates our repression and idealizes material success.

to quote whitney houston, i believe that children are the future; teach them well and let them lead the way. as my mother works with the Baltimore City Public School System, i hear first had stories about the nature of children stuck in "ghettos" as well as in the mindset that life has no true value or purpose. it all starts at home with motivation. many parents fail to positively motivate their children to succeed and pursue successful lives. also, many inner-city children are depressed by the notion that life doesnt last past ae 30. they are the product of a society which finds them doomed to fail before their lives even really begin. so where's the motivation to waste your time in school, if you arent going to live past 30 anyway? the only images of success many youths are shown are the select few who make either through music entertainment or sports. many place all of their hopes and dreams on making it big as a sports star ot rapper that they fail to see their full potential or talents in other areas.

i know this assessment may seem bleak, but it's a start into diving into my true feelins on these very tough issues to analyze. i am not a social scientist. i am not an expert on race relations in america, but i just wanted to express some of my thoughts. please respond, and we can discuss any of your own feelings on the topic. hopefully, i will follow up with more on this topic.

Tardily yours, kiddies!

A Reluctant Insomniac

What is it about mornings? there's such a mental conflict for the insomniac concerning the morning. there are those of us who live by night, wishing only to sleep the morning away. others subsist by the proverb, "early to bed, early to rise." the morning is such a strange time of day for the insomniac. the morning is the dawning of a new day, a rebirth of the world. yet, the night time is when the insomniac finds his rebirth.

the morning can engender such a peculiar sensation for the sleepless and weary. fatigue can trigger all sorts of emotions and mixed feelings, that the sunrise can seem overwhelming. insomnia seems frustrating. it can make you feel lonely and sad, yet empowered: just a strange amalgam of complimentary and contradictory sensations. it's really quite hard to describe. you can only know the feeling if you've been there.

yet, whenever i make it through the night, fully awake to see the sunrise, the dawning of a new world, i stop and watch in silence. the sun emerging from it's cloak of night is such a powerful image. it's so remarkably beautiful. as much of the world sleeps through it, you get the sensation that you are being shown something special. you are taking part in an experience designed only for you, meant only for your eyes.

the sunrise can be such a selfish time for me. i want it all to myself. i want to treasure it, keep it, because who knows when i'll see my next. i usually spend so much time trying to slumber through the mornings, that when given the chance to welcome the new day, i really take the time to appreciate them for all their worth and glory.

inherently a night owl, i feel as though i am a rebel against conventions of time. insomnia allows me to see things that others who sleep regularly arent able to see. this can be both a blessing and a curse. while my body and mental capacity struggle to find energy from a depleted source, my mind is thoroughly enthralled by the mysteries of the night. i've always been like this, even since i was a kid. the night seemed so tempting. i can't describe how contented i was just to watch a rediculous movie on tv able only to be shown at night. i suppose the people at television networks assume that only the weary and forlorn can appreciate these cinematic anomalies.

the world never ceases to amaze me. the harder i resist insomnia, the more it develops into routine. thus, while given the chance, i take a look at the world contained within a day and appreciate the entirety of it, sunrise to sunrise. though, at the intersection of a new dawn and the closing of night, a sunrise can only be treasured in silence.

Until I wake, good-day & goodnight, kiddies!

Wrong Impressions

Woah, 2 blogs in one day!!! (technically 3). carazzy. i promiss this won't be as long as the last one. in general i'll try to cut down on length, cause i feel these take entirely too long to read. what can i say, i have a lot on my mind.

i just wanted to say that i've been really hard on myself lately in these previous blogs. people who don't really know me reading this are probably like, what a depressing loser.

i feel i need to clarify. and to clarify, i have to ask you to allow me this one time to boast about myself. i promise it won't happen again! i am a FUN guy. at least i try to be. i'm one of those people who likes to make "witty" comments at opportune times in conversations. i thrive much better in large group situations. for some reason i just feel more comfortable and am able to entertain larger crowds.
i regret to say this, but i'm kind of an attention hog. i love to be in the spotlight. i suppose that's why i love to act. so, i love for everyone to focus on me and laugh at my antics. i really can get pretty crazy sometimes. no conversation topic is off limits to me, and i suppose i'm rather graphic sometimes. sorry.

this is exactly why i hate to do this, because i sound like a jerk. i sound like everything i hate. but i just feel as though i may be giving some people the wrong impression.

honestly, those who know me will attest to all that i've said. these arent necessarily all my words. my close friends have psycho-analyzed me quite thoroughly.

i suppose people don't get to see this true me until they really get to know me. i am shy. no denying that. i'm workin on it, tho. but once you get to know me, i try to be as crazy and fun as possible. at times, i can also be outspoken. can't help it.

so, i hope people feel as though they have a better impression of the me that my close friends have. if any of you B-More peeps are reading, i hope you'll comment. i'm sure you all can give a much more accurate picture of me than i can. an outsider's opinion will be more honest anyway, tho i really am trying to be honest here. i don't brag about myself often, and if i do, it's in a joke. this was my one splurge. aight? cool.

Talk to you all tomorrow kiddies!

When A Black Man Turns Red

How many times have you fallen flat on your ass and been so scarred by it that it causes a chain reaction of lingering self-doubt, self-consciousness, and insecurity far beyond any reasonable amount of time? and, i don't necessarily mean literally "fall on your ass," but rather a moment in your life where you, frankly, fucked up. it is true that one can "eff" up in a number of ways. you could have mispelled your name on the SATs, farted during a prostate exam, had an erection when called to go write on the chalk-board, gotten caught masturbating by your parents, found yourself awkwardly in the restroom of the opposite sex, etc. how exactly do humans cope with a natural human flaw: that "everyone makes mistakes."

some can merely shrug off embarassing moments, while others let them marinate into an unhealthy self deprecation. why is it that people are so hard on themselves, and each other, for something that comes so naturally like fucking up? we are designed to make mistakes. no man is perfect. when you see a person trip, can you honestly say you didn't laugh? if you trip, can you honestly say that the first thing you didn't do was look around to see if anyone noticed? no one wants to be caught in an embarassing situation, yet we find it so hilarious when misfortune happens at the expense of others.

it's why we can't help but laugh uproariously at blooper reels, america's funniest home videos, or the jerry springer show, for fuck's sake. we laugh because it isn't happeneing to us. perhaps the reason people laugh so hard is because it makes them feel superior. it makes them feel as if they are more infallible. we laugh, but if we found ourselves on national tv with a midget lover, interracial children, and a parent in the KKK, it wouldnt be such a droll situation. we never want to get caught in an embarassing or compromising situation because it proves that we do make mistakes, that we are fallible. hell, it proves that we are human! yet, we reject that. we all have this inadvertant (well maybe not as inadvertant for the vain of us) desire to be as perfect as possible.

that's bullshit. we all want to be perfect, but we can't be. that's why now, if i trip, i laugh it off. i say now with emphasis. now i have learned to deal with embarassment more easily than i used to. i still let self-consciousness consume me when i make a mistake, though in my elder years, i am able to let go of embarassment quicker.

i can still remember the day as clear as it was yesterday. it was gym class in elementary school, and my pencil-thin 5 year old figure stood confused, yet observant in the wooden gymnasium. i watched as the rest of my class enjoyed a soccer game. we were teamed boys against girls. i wasn't exactly a soccer fan and hadn't really played the game before. so, i stood and watched the black and white blur spin back and forth accross the waxed floor. thinking i had witnessed enough to give the game a try, i jumped into action. i didn't have to jump too far, the ball rolled right up to my feet. since it was boys versus girls, i looked for where to score. then, i spotted a boy standing in the goal, and since i was on the boy's team, this must be where the boys score. i started moving the ball with my feet, a very primitive "dribble," i suppose toward the goalie. i was amazed at the ease with which i was able to maneuver past defenders. the girls almost seemed to step aside and let me pass. they were laughing. boy were those girls laughing hard. we were having so much fun! i approached, wound up, and just before the boy goalie could complete "Nooooo," I ripped the ball past him and scored...for the girls team. the entire gym errupted into laughter. why? then, it hit me. i had scored for the girls team. oh, my god. i looked over at the gym teacher for an escape from the laughing children. all i got was a disappointed glance as he rolled his eyes in disgust. i went over to the corner, slunk down, and buried my head.

why do i remember this so vividly. this simple little embarassing mistake lingered with me, literally years after it was over. i'm sure no one else in that gym remember what happened. but i do. i was so hurt by the reaction of the kids and even the gym teacher, that bastard Mr. B. ever since, i have been quite self-conscious while learning a new sport. cause, when i mess up, i get the feeling like everyone will turn and laugh just like that day 14 years ago.

when one allows something so insignificant and human to eat one's confidence, one would almost go overboard to be perfect in every action you perform. this has been my life story. and, sucks for me because i'm about as far from perfect as possible. i think every thing through so far, weighing all possible negative outcomes that i often second guess myself and back out of doing things to avoid doing something wrong.

i know i'm pathetic. but i'm working on it. i'm much more confident now than ive ever been. a lot of my change took place through high school, a time when many would say are the most awkward social years of their lives. now that i'm at college, i feel ready to grow and complete my confidence building regimen.

so to you out there, please try not to hold on to embarassment, as painful as it might be. it only hurts you more in the long run. trust me, i know from experience. the soccer story is only one of many times in my life i have fucked up and suffered far longer than i should have. now, i just laugh it off. please, laugh it off. if others laugh, laugh with them, share in the experience. maybe they'll see that you are only human and that they are, too, imperfect. and when you see some one fall on their ass, help them up. laugh, but only if they laugh first!

till tomorrow, Holla Kiddies!

Work, Work, Work

Today was nothing but work!

7:15- Alarm goes off to wake me up for drill.
7:25-Alarm goes off again as "snooze" has lost its effect.
7:28-Trip as I get out of bed cutting my toe on a suitcase and hitting my head on the wall...yes, roomates still sleep, pfew.
7:42-Run out of Mid Fayerweather to Dartmouth Hall.
7:45-I'm the 2nd person to enter the classroom.
7:50-The rest of the class shows up for the 7:45 drill...
7:52-I learn my drill Instructor is my age...so depressing.
7:53-8:35-My ego is redeemed as I am the only one in the class who responds perfectly every time and had quite a good accent.
8:40-8:55-Breakfast @ the HOP ( a nasty dried hash brown and Dartmouth College Spring Water, mmm).
9:00-9:50-French class. If it werent for the 1 or 2 cute people in there, I wouldn't have made it.
10:00-10:08-Secret dance party and sing-along in my room while roomates are out. (Song: Mario's "Let Me Love You")(I know)(I'm sorry)(but he is from Baltimore, whut!).
10:10-Plop down on the couch in Collis Student Center pull out french books and start doind homework..i know, i'm as shocked as you are.
10:19-Watch Laura who was suppose to meet me at 10:10 walk by me and not see me.
10:23-Watch Laura, now with food, walk by me and not see me. She is headed to the "Blitz" terminals.
10:24-Send Laura a blitz saying I'm on the couch next to the fireplace, you missed me.
10:27-Laura returns. Sits on one couch.
10:27:32-Laura moves to the other couch.
10:27:48-Laura complains about life.
10:30-12-Some productive work for a change. (interjected with Laura's and my critique of everyone who walks through the door and other musings on life)
12:05-Buy a stir-fry.
12:05-12:30-Savor stir-fry.
12:35-Headed over to Topside Convenience store. Bought a kit-kat, 2 amazin fruit packets, and a 12 pak of sprite (what else could a man ask for).
12:55-Back in the dorm just in time for back to back episodes of the Cosby Show! WHOOT!
2:00-Start getting blitzes about paper due tomorrow and my having to edit all 11 other members of my class's papers. ugh
2:25-Get tired of confusing blitzes.
2:27-Pee.
2:28-Go in bedroom and close door...nappy time, no not my hair.
4:55-Wake from what was supposed to be a 2 hour nap. Damn, already behind schedule.
5-11-Work on revising damn essay and reading everyone else's damn essays and having to make damn comments on every fucking thing wrong with all of their damn crappy papers. well, some were gems, but a bunch were crap!
11:05-Get tired. contemplate looking at porn.
11:06-Roomate walks in.
11:06:01-Porn no longer an option.
11:30-Go into bedroom with laptop because i'm tired of sitting in a damn chair. I lay on bed.
11:30-11:40-Surf web....who am i kidding...facebook.
11:45-Remember i have to write a blog for today.
11:47-Finally come up with the idea to write about my pointless day.
11:59-Realize it won't be done in 1 minute so i say screw rushing.
12:01-Get notion to look at porn again.
12:02-Other roomate walks in.
12:02:05-Porn no longer an option. (It took longer this time cause, well, I am in the other room and all...and I do have a mute button...fuck it.)
12:04-Order EBAs online. MMM Pizza.
12:10-Wrapping up my fucking pointless entry.
12:20-EBAs is here. Done Proofreading. Time for eat then sleep. Thus is life.

what a damn day. i promise tomorrow my entry will have some meaning. and if i have work...screw it. my thought are much more important than grades. i had today's entry all planned out. oh well, some other time.

Going mad with work and very little sleep at night,

GOOD-FUCKING-NIGHT, Kiddies! :-))

Hey Baby, What’s Your Sign?

another day, another sleepless night. 1st all-nighter of the second term here at Dartmouth. After my astounding record 7 all-nighters last term, i’m already off to a bang-up start to not only shatter my own personal record, but a Dartmouth College all-time high! ugh. the life of an insomniac is not the life i desire. in general, being at college has made me realize the true value of good sleep. i’m talking, you couldn’t wake me with a catheter sleep. naps have become a daily part of my routine. Wake, class, eat, nap! It’s a simple schedule, but it works fairly effectively.

on to my next little topic of thought: signs.

recently, I began to think about just how much our lives are defined by signs. signs run our lives. we search for them, we obey them, we pray for them, we interpret them, we use them for communication, we fashion them as a means of self-definition. for many of us out there, particularly the hopeless romantics and the dreamers like myself, signs are the ultimate validations of what we choose to pursue or not pursue. for example, if i'm walking down the street, casually following* an unsuspecting object of my affection, (*note: i say casually following and not stalking. i'm not a pervert), and all of a sudden a stranger runs across the street and proceeds to violently make-out with this secret crush, who puts up no fight, mind you, then one might take this as a sign to move on to pursue other options.

for those who put a little faith in something called fate and never knowing what will come next; those who believe in spontenaiety as best thing since 5 o'clock free crack give-a-ways; those who put a little trust in the notion that, in the end, everything will be alright; those who throw caution to the wind, for these people, a sign is the only thing that carries us through life and allows us to keep dreaming and adapting to change.

many people find their sign in faith. many find it in religion and prayer and in trust that God will illuminate the correct path when a choice has to be made or when life takes a new, interesting turn. others find them in very strange places. many of life's most important lessons are learned or found in the most unexpected of forms. that's the beauty of life to me: that at any time i may have an epiphany. i may receive either some sign of divine intervention or just a subtle warning or caution. i can never predict which way my life will turn out. all i can do is live from day to day and be thankful that every morning i have an opportunity to start fresh and re-invent myself, if i so choose.

so to all of you out there who believe in the power of the sign to influence whichever path you may choose to pursue, whether it be a simple "stop" sign at a street intersection preventing you from a car accident, or the love of your dreams walking into a room and you overhearing someone in a completely unrelated conversation exclaim, "go for it," remember this: Always be on the look out for signs. Embrace them. Trust that you will recognize them, and please, honor their power. You never know which one may change your life completely.

many thanks to David Snead for his inspiring this entry, and

Until tomorrow kiddies!

Love Un...Never Requited

Well, i might as well bypass all of the normal journal type stuff of recording my daily activities and ventures and dive right into the juicy portions of my life. Hmm. Come to think of it, my life isn't terribly juicy, but, rather, i'll say "moist."

so, my love life is a joke. hell, i'd laugh if someone one told me they had a love life like mine. for the longest time, i pittied myself, and i would always complain in hopes of getting the pity of others. at this point in my life, having just turned 19 about 2 months ago (on the 11th), i'm beyond pity. i don't mean that if there were a stronger word than pity it would apply here. i mean, i've recognized that pity is exactly what i don't need. this is to say, pity would only further my dilusion that i am not at fault, that it's the world's fault for not falling madly in love with me. c'mon, who wouldnt fall in love with this tall dark stranger!? i may not be a hunk or a model, but i'm not so bad to look at, and i think im a fun guy to be around. the world should quiver in shame and immediately fall to its knees in prime fellatio position in regret for having left me so lonely and dateless for all these years.

this was the thinking of the old Chris Jones. that Chris Jones is sooo 1998-2004. in the spirit of new years resolutions with the dawning of a new year (2005 baby...woah, i'll be 20!), i vow simply this: to really examine my life and just be honest with myself. i firmly believe that honesty with the self leads to unabashed honesty with others. so that i can stop lying to the world about my sad love plight, i have to stop lying to myself. my love life is only pitiful because i've made it that way. it's no fault of anyone else but mine.

an honest assessment of my faults: i am in no way, shape, or form aggressive. i'm a pretty laid-back romantic. sure my thoughts can get pretty aggressive. like this one time i imagined one particular object of my affection sitting delightfully and innocently in a room typing on a computer, when suddenly, i burst through the door like a maverick and lustfully tear my victim away from the dim-lit screen. i then throw them on the back of my horse and gallop away to a secret loft where we make sweet, sweet passionate love....followed by rough sex. that's not so bad actually. however, most of my fantasies involved being swept off of my own feet by some ruthless, yet gentle, scavenger ready to pillage my body. ok, tmi, i know, sorry.
i know that by all standards of society the man is supposed to be the aggressor, the one to take charge. but, that's just not in my personality. i've always told myself that one special person will come along one day and that will change. i will be so smitten, that i cannot be able to contain the urge to go jump some bones. perhaps that will still happen, but until, i'm still waiting..patiently...frustratedly...and hornily.
also, i never have the confidence to initiate any sort of romanticism. i'm quite self-conscious, and i don't much know why. i always feel as though i'll do something wrong, or say the wrong thing, or be totally awkward. mostly, i think it stems from an uncontrollable fear of rejection. i've never been rejected. this is because i've never put myself into a situation where i can be rejected. i don't understand what i'm so afraid of. it won't be the end of the world if someone simply says, "no."
i try to avoid awkward situations at all cost. to be put into a scenario where i have to face someone that rejected me, knowing my feelings for them and their lack of feelings for me, seems just so embarassing to me. i don't like to be hurt. so i figure i spare myself the hurt in advance...though at the cost of a good portion of my own happiness.
finally, i always seem to bark up the wrong tree. when i do fall for someone, it's always at the worst possible time ever. the other person is either involved in another relationship, or i'm not exactly their type, or my man-breasts are too big, or something like that. that's an immediate set up for hurt and disappointment, when you unwillfully fall for someone you can never have. it's happened so many times now, i'm used to it.

so what is this listing of my faults all to say, anyway. well. i need to suck it up, get some balls, and face my fears head on. this pessimism just won't do. my fear of rejection should not supercede the 50% possibility that a "yes" may follow one of my advances. don't get me wrong, i don't feel as though i need a relationship to validate my college experience or to be completely happy, peachy, and keen. but, it is a nice little bonus, having someone with whom to share my feelings of affection. plus, i've run into a few objects of attraction here at the Big D, and maybe i'll be man enough to pursue one of them... actively this time. i always think i'm being so obvious in my subtle little advances. though, really, i'm only peeking at a person from around a corner, and i naturally i expect them to notice, run over to me, and start passionately hooking on the spot. i pledge to shed the self-consciousness, realize that i am good enough person for anyone to date, and go get em, tiger. if someoone doesnt't like me for me, then fuck em, well, not literally cause they're bastards anyway. so, pro-active Chris is on the way...

well, one day, one day.

Till next time, kiddies.

YAY!

Sweet. So, I've finally entered the world of "blogging!"

Ok, enough of the formalities. no more capitalization (except maybe names) and unnecessary punctuation.

there. i feel so much better!

so, yes, i'm Chris Jones (aka. CJo). i'm a freshman or '08 at Dartmouth College in the illustrious metropolis of Hanover, New Hampshire. i've got one term of college under my belt, and now i feel ready to blow out the college scene. or at least when i get up the nerve. i have made myself very happy and very busy on campus thus far. i had an awesome first term, and a lot actually happened. i had an amazing DOC trip. i auditioned for, joined, and quit an a cappella group. i'm in the gospel choir. i made it into the #1 improv comedy group on campus (if i do say so myself, and i do) the DOG DAY PLAYERS! they're amazing, and i love them all. in true Chris Jones fashion, i have become quite active on campus.

though, for a long while i have felt that to be happy, i need to be active. being in such a remote, and beautiful if i might add, part of the country has taught me that i don't always need to have every minute of my time occupied to be content. i'm just as happy now to be doing nothing....being lazy...sitting on my ass (more cursing to follow in future blogs). So, with all the activity, i make sure to take time and effort into doing nothing. believe me, for me to be doing nothing takes effort.

yeah, so it's about 5:09 in the morning and i do need to get a bit of sleep. there's work to be done and a world to be conquered tomorrow.

until next time...hmm..i feel as though i should end my first blog with some profound insight into the world for all of you dutiful readers and Chris Jones fans (yeah right)...hmm. oh, i saw this quote earlier and wrote it down cause i actually rather liked it. here it goes:

"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future" -Paul Boese

Goodnight kiddies!