I've been going through an interesting stage of life and self-discovery for the past couple of weeks. It's been rather interesting, too. But, I guess I should start from the beginning.
I've never been a very religious person. I mean, I was raised in the Methodist Church, baptized in the Methodist Church, confirmed in the Methodist Church. But, I guess the idea of religion never really took to me... or perhaps I distanced myself from it at some point. Either way, somewhere a long the way, I "stopped being Christian."
Now, this is not to say I was an atheist. No, I wasn't an atheist. I'd say I was more... agnostic. I believed that there was some guiding force out there. I believed that there was some form of intervention. I just wasn't sure what it was.
Perhaps this whole journey began back in my sophomore year of high school. See, I had a Sunday School teacher whom everyone loved and enjoyed being around... except for me. I didn't agree with what he taught, nor did I really agree with how he taught it. And this all just happened to coincide with several events that affected the youth group I went to. I guess the combination of these events led to my rejection of what they were attempting to teach me. I still went to church on Sundays, but it was reluctantly, and with great frustration (and by my senior year of high school, it usually involved a big fight as well). I still went to youth group, and I even became the president of the youth group during my senior year (a grand total of.... 10 people! And that's on a good day), but I didn't enjoy what I was doing.
It probably didn't help that I had a personal crisis during my senior year. See, I've never been a very emotional person. That's not something I like to delve into. I compartmentalize things... tuck them neatly into their little boxes where they're supposed to stay. And in the beginning of my senior year, my entire world was rocked.
My Poppy died during the first week of school my senior year after a long battle with Congestive Heart Failure. For five years, I watched him fight this condition, and it was always one step forward and two steps back with him. And for those five years, I constantly wrestled with one question- how could a God who's supposed to be so merciful cause my Poppy so much pain and suffering? Poppy had never done anything wrong; why was he the one to go through this?
Throughout my senior year, I continued to grapple with this question. And in the meantime, I was forced to confront my own mortality and my own emotions. I'll admit it- I was bitter after Poppy died. I was depressed after Poppy died. Hell, truth be told, I'll still bitter, and to an extent, I'm still depressed. And strong emotions like grief and I don't do well together. We butt heads because grief needs to be fully expressed before one can accept it and go on, and I simply did not want to deal with that. I wanted the grief to get tucked in its little box in the back of my head.
As my senior year went on, I found that I gained no comfort in anything. My parents couldn't comfort me because more often than not, we were at each other's throats. I couldn't bury myself in school work or actual work because eventually, I'd run out of things to do. I couldn't attempt to supress my emotions with running because running can only block out but so much. And I couldn't find comfort in religion because I was constantly questioning it.
Eventually summer came, and my parents couldn't force me to go to church because I was working most Sundays. May led to June, which in turn led to July and August, and eventually I found myself up at college. At Student Org Night, I gravitated towards the Wesley Foundation table out of sheer habit; after all, being raised a Methodist, it was only natural that I checked out the Methodist organization that was on campus. But I never went to any of their events or meetings. And when I was home, I only went to church on holidays, like Good Friday or Easter. Once more, I found myself home for summer, and once again, I was working most Sundays. However, I noticed a new trend- my parents had stopped going to church. This puzzled me. Here were the people who just a year ago had forced me to go to an institution I hated with a passion, and yet they were sleeping in every Sunday morning. I took it with a grain of salt, though. They were adults; they could make their own decisions. Instead, I took to working all the time, occasionally pausing to consider the possibility of religion.
Now, I find myself back up at school again. A week ago, I decided to take a leap and go to the Wesley Foundation's Tuesday evening Bible Study. The next day, I found myself hauling my tired bones out of bed at 06:30 AM to go to 08:00 AM Communion. I was shocked at how I was treated, but in a good way. The members of the Wesley Foundation welcomed me with open arms. They knew I was grappling with the idea of God and Jesus and whatnot, and yet they still welcomed me. And truth be told, I'm still in awe of it. I'm in awe of it, but I'm also thankful.
I'm still wrestling with the idea of religion as I write this post. I'm sure I'll be wrestling with it for a long time after this. After all, I'm the logical person in my family. It's only natural that I attempt to understand something that I truly can't. But for now, I'm Ok with it. See, I think I've found a place where I can voice my opinions and questions without prejudice. I think I've found a group of people that I can talk to and trust. I think that maybe, just maybe, I've found a community.
And for that, I am thankful. Truly, deeply, utterly and completely thankful.
I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here
And where was I before the day
That I first saw Your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know
That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest.
-Ben Folds, "The Luckiest"
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Insanity At Its Finest
Main Entry: in·san·i·ty
Pronunciation: \in-ˈsa-nə-tē\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural in·san·i·ties
Date: 1590
1 : a deranged state of the mind usually occurring as a specific disorder (as schizophrenia)
2 : such unsoundness of mind or lack of understanding as prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status, or transaction or as removes one from criminal or civil responsibility
3 a : extreme folly or unreasonableness b : something utterly foolish or unreasonable
4 : doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results
My friends and I were the definition of insanity earlier tonight. After all, who'll drag two guys and a middle school-aged child down into the kitchen and make brownies? Absolute and complete insanity!
I guess I ought to start from the beginning. This weekend was family weekend at my school, so we had a lot of guests up here. My suitemate's younger sister came up and was staying with her, so we decided that we were going to make brownies. Friday night, we began the preparations, "we" being me, my suitemate Lauren, her roommate, Stephanie, and our friend, Logan. We all piled into Logan's car and drove over to Wal-Mart. Logan bought a Snuggie and a Nerf gun, I bought Apples to Apples and The Chronicles of Riddick, and Lauren bought brownie supplies (including the Perfect Brownie pan- As seen on TV). After running around Wal-Mart and scaring a few fellow customers, we decided it was time to head back to campus. It was only when we got back to our dorm that we realized that we forgot two crucial ingredients for our brownies- oil and eggs. No one wanted to go buy them from the convenience store on campus; after all, they charge an arm and a leg for EVERYTHING! So, we decided to wait until the next day to go get the supplies.
Fast forward 24 hours, and we're back at Wal-Mart again. Lauren's younger sister had arrived earlier in the day, so she'd joined us for our trip. Immediately, she and Logan get to bickering back and forth (in a nice, slightly humorous way). And oh was it funny. Logan got owned by her! I swear, I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life!
Eventually, we get all of our supplies and make our way back to campus. As I head to go get the kitchen key from the RA on duty, the rest of the group goes to rally the troops and meet me down there. When I get to the kitchen, I find that we've been joined by Lauren's roommate, Stephanie, and Logan's roommate, Spencer. As I walk into the kitchen, Lauren pulls me aside, telling me everyone's in the cabinets. Well, sure enough, Logan's hiding in the tall one that runs from the floor to the ceiling. Spencer's somehow managed to stuff himself into a tiny cabinet under the sink and Stephanie's in another small cabinet across the kitchen. Immediately, I could tell this was going to be interesting.
As we got ready to make the brownies, we realized that we epically failed in the planning department, as we had no bowl to mix the batter in, nor did we have anything to mix it with. Eventually, we got a pot from the RA and I found a spoon and fork in my room that were clean. I ended taking over the measuring duties, Stephanie mixed everything and Lauren's sister watched us like a hawk, waiting for one of us to give her the bowl to lick after we were done with it. Lauren poured the batter into her "Perfect Brownie" pan, and Logan made makeshift oven mits with the box (another oversight of ours) while Spencer stole Stephanie's flipflops and she chased him all around the basement trying to get it back. In the middle of all this, Lauren's sister finally got her wish, and was perched happily on the counter doing nothing other than licking the bowl.
With the brownies now in the oven, we did what any college student would do on a Saturday night- hang out in the study lounge. Mind you, it was completely empty (thank goodness). As we waited, we found our own different ways to entertain ourselves. Logan and Spencer took to ambushing any misfortunate soul who happened to venture down into the study lounge with their soda bottles. When they weren't ambushing people, Spencer continued to steal Stephanie's flip-flops. Lauren, Lauren's sister and I did the Cupid Shuffle (though I did mine in the traditional Midlothian style, much to their confusion). And Logan continued to be tormented by Lauren's sister. In short, it was just another normal Saturday night.
Eventually, we checked the brownies (Logan got burnt while taking them out, and then got burnt again when putting them back in after Lauren and I decided that they weren't done enough). So, we went back to creating chaos in the study lounge again. I've got to be honest- I've never had to much fun in the study lounge before. Logan and Spencer were running around like lunatics, Lauren and I were laughing at them, and in general, it was just a great night.
After a few more minutes, we checked the brownies and decided that they were done. This only added even more chaos, as we were all attempting to get brownies (om nom nom nom nom nom... inside joke, sorry). With our baked-goods craving satisfied, we continued to create chaos in the study lounge. All good things must come to an end, though, and soon enough, we were all tired and ready to go to bed. I know, it's amazing! Who would've thought that college kids could get tired?
But, yeah. That was my Saturday night. It was completely crazy, and truth be told, you probably had to be there in order to realize just how great it was. All I can say is that I've got the best friends here, and this past weekend was probably one of the best weekends I've ever had. :)
Pronunciation: \in-ˈsa-nə-tē\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural in·san·i·ties
Date: 1590
1 : a deranged state of the mind usually occurring as a specific disorder (as schizophrenia)
2 : such unsoundness of mind or lack of understanding as prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status, or transaction or as removes one from criminal or civil responsibility
3 a : extreme folly or unreasonableness b : something utterly foolish or unreasonable
4 : doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results
My friends and I were the definition of insanity earlier tonight. After all, who'll drag two guys and a middle school-aged child down into the kitchen and make brownies? Absolute and complete insanity!
I guess I ought to start from the beginning. This weekend was family weekend at my school, so we had a lot of guests up here. My suitemate's younger sister came up and was staying with her, so we decided that we were going to make brownies. Friday night, we began the preparations, "we" being me, my suitemate Lauren, her roommate, Stephanie, and our friend, Logan. We all piled into Logan's car and drove over to Wal-Mart. Logan bought a Snuggie and a Nerf gun, I bought Apples to Apples and The Chronicles of Riddick, and Lauren bought brownie supplies (including the Perfect Brownie pan- As seen on TV). After running around Wal-Mart and scaring a few fellow customers, we decided it was time to head back to campus. It was only when we got back to our dorm that we realized that we forgot two crucial ingredients for our brownies- oil and eggs. No one wanted to go buy them from the convenience store on campus; after all, they charge an arm and a leg for EVERYTHING! So, we decided to wait until the next day to go get the supplies.
Fast forward 24 hours, and we're back at Wal-Mart again. Lauren's younger sister had arrived earlier in the day, so she'd joined us for our trip. Immediately, she and Logan get to bickering back and forth (in a nice, slightly humorous way). And oh was it funny. Logan got owned by her! I swear, I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life!
Eventually, we get all of our supplies and make our way back to campus. As I head to go get the kitchen key from the RA on duty, the rest of the group goes to rally the troops and meet me down there. When I get to the kitchen, I find that we've been joined by Lauren's roommate, Stephanie, and Logan's roommate, Spencer. As I walk into the kitchen, Lauren pulls me aside, telling me everyone's in the cabinets. Well, sure enough, Logan's hiding in the tall one that runs from the floor to the ceiling. Spencer's somehow managed to stuff himself into a tiny cabinet under the sink and Stephanie's in another small cabinet across the kitchen. Immediately, I could tell this was going to be interesting.
As we got ready to make the brownies, we realized that we epically failed in the planning department, as we had no bowl to mix the batter in, nor did we have anything to mix it with. Eventually, we got a pot from the RA and I found a spoon and fork in my room that were clean. I ended taking over the measuring duties, Stephanie mixed everything and Lauren's sister watched us like a hawk, waiting for one of us to give her the bowl to lick after we were done with it. Lauren poured the batter into her "Perfect Brownie" pan, and Logan made makeshift oven mits with the box (another oversight of ours) while Spencer stole Stephanie's flipflops and she chased him all around the basement trying to get it back. In the middle of all this, Lauren's sister finally got her wish, and was perched happily on the counter doing nothing other than licking the bowl.
With the brownies now in the oven, we did what any college student would do on a Saturday night- hang out in the study lounge. Mind you, it was completely empty (thank goodness). As we waited, we found our own different ways to entertain ourselves. Logan and Spencer took to ambushing any misfortunate soul who happened to venture down into the study lounge with their soda bottles. When they weren't ambushing people, Spencer continued to steal Stephanie's flip-flops. Lauren, Lauren's sister and I did the Cupid Shuffle (though I did mine in the traditional Midlothian style, much to their confusion). And Logan continued to be tormented by Lauren's sister. In short, it was just another normal Saturday night.
Eventually, we checked the brownies (Logan got burnt while taking them out, and then got burnt again when putting them back in after Lauren and I decided that they weren't done enough). So, we went back to creating chaos in the study lounge again. I've got to be honest- I've never had to much fun in the study lounge before. Logan and Spencer were running around like lunatics, Lauren and I were laughing at them, and in general, it was just a great night.
After a few more minutes, we checked the brownies and decided that they were done. This only added even more chaos, as we were all attempting to get brownies (om nom nom nom nom nom... inside joke, sorry). With our baked-goods craving satisfied, we continued to create chaos in the study lounge. All good things must come to an end, though, and soon enough, we were all tired and ready to go to bed. I know, it's amazing! Who would've thought that college kids could get tired?
But, yeah. That was my Saturday night. It was completely crazy, and truth be told, you probably had to be there in order to realize just how great it was. All I can say is that I've got the best friends here, and this past weekend was probably one of the best weekends I've ever had. :)
Sunday, October 4, 2009
25 Things
A while back, these "25 Things" notes were floating around on Facebook, clogging up users feeds with new stories from their friends. Now, I never posted one of these things, but I have written a few of them (I think I really have 100 random things saved somewhere). Anyway, I've decided to post one of my lists here, just for the heck of it. So, here it goes. My 25 things.
1) When I played softball, I rolled down the top of my right sock for good luck
2) This habit of rolling my right sock down eventually led me to win 3 championships in 6 years.
3) If I ever disappear in a store like Wal-Mart or Target, chances are you can find me in the books or TV on DVD section
4) I tend to be really intuitive to the point of knowing when something bad is going to happen before it actually occurs
5) Call it a gut feeling, an ability to read body language, or an extension of this whole intuition thing, but I also tend to know how someone is feeling before I talk to them.
6) I think it'd be really sweet if I could beat-box
7) My sense of humor tends to be very dry and twisted. As a result, I'm often the one laughing at inappropriate moments.
8) I know how to operate a really complex pump system for a pool, but often get confused when doing simple things (like using a microwave)
9) I'm pretty convinced that I suffer from undiagnosed ADD
10) I respect the members of our military with every fiber in my being and wish I was tough enough to do what they do and make the sacrifices they make
11) "She Don't Want The World" by 3 Doors Down makes me want to cry
12) For a year, I couldn't listen to the song "Without You" from RENT because it made me think of my Poppy
13) Sarcasm is my second language
14) And George Carlin is my favorite comedian
15) I am absolutely clueless when it comes to doing math. Seriously, I am
16) I have a horrible habit of picking at my cuticles/nails when I'm nervous or uncomfortable
17) I get really frustrated when people are lazy, incompetent or just plain ignorant.
18) I also have an extremely low bullshit tolerance
19) My dad and I are similar in more ways than I'd like to admit, but it's Ok. We have a lot of interesting conversations (mostly about politics)
20) Speaking of my dad, I've learned more from him that I have from all of my teachers/professors combined. I don't know what I'd do without him
21) I am a libertarian and believe that our government needs to undergo a complete overhaul and return to the original ways of the constitution
22) I have little sympathy for people who refuse to get up off their asses and work for what they want, and then complain about everything
23) If a good song is playing on the radio while I'm in the car, chances are I'll start dancing. And I'm not a good dancer.
24) My favorite TV shows are NCIS, Bones, Fringe and Heroes
25) I'm a sucker for the guy next door. I'm also a sucker for a man in uniform, and a guy with pretty eyes.
1) When I played softball, I rolled down the top of my right sock for good luck
2) This habit of rolling my right sock down eventually led me to win 3 championships in 6 years.
3) If I ever disappear in a store like Wal-Mart or Target, chances are you can find me in the books or TV on DVD section
4) I tend to be really intuitive to the point of knowing when something bad is going to happen before it actually occurs
5) Call it a gut feeling, an ability to read body language, or an extension of this whole intuition thing, but I also tend to know how someone is feeling before I talk to them.
6) I think it'd be really sweet if I could beat-box
7) My sense of humor tends to be very dry and twisted. As a result, I'm often the one laughing at inappropriate moments.
8) I know how to operate a really complex pump system for a pool, but often get confused when doing simple things (like using a microwave)
9) I'm pretty convinced that I suffer from undiagnosed ADD
10) I respect the members of our military with every fiber in my being and wish I was tough enough to do what they do and make the sacrifices they make
11) "She Don't Want The World" by 3 Doors Down makes me want to cry
12) For a year, I couldn't listen to the song "Without You" from RENT because it made me think of my Poppy
13) Sarcasm is my second language
14) And George Carlin is my favorite comedian
15) I am absolutely clueless when it comes to doing math. Seriously, I am
16) I have a horrible habit of picking at my cuticles/nails when I'm nervous or uncomfortable
17) I get really frustrated when people are lazy, incompetent or just plain ignorant.
18) I also have an extremely low bullshit tolerance
19) My dad and I are similar in more ways than I'd like to admit, but it's Ok. We have a lot of interesting conversations (mostly about politics)
20) Speaking of my dad, I've learned more from him that I have from all of my teachers/professors combined. I don't know what I'd do without him
21) I am a libertarian and believe that our government needs to undergo a complete overhaul and return to the original ways of the constitution
22) I have little sympathy for people who refuse to get up off their asses and work for what they want, and then complain about everything
23) If a good song is playing on the radio while I'm in the car, chances are I'll start dancing. And I'm not a good dancer.
24) My favorite TV shows are NCIS, Bones, Fringe and Heroes
25) I'm a sucker for the guy next door. I'm also a sucker for a man in uniform, and a guy with pretty eyes.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Are You Ready For Some Football?
Break out the facepaint (or warpaint, whatever you want to call it), jersey's and fire up that grill. Football season is back!
Now, football's never been really big at my school. We've got a small team in a small division. We're not one of those teams you're going to see on ESPN or Fox (unless we make the playoffs like we did last year). My cousins and friends are jealous because instead of praying that I win a lottery to get a ticket, I just have to show my student ID and walk through the gate. In fact, I think most people are a little surprised that we even have a football team.
I support my football team, and I always will. However, my loyalty also lies with a couple of other teams. If our football game is an away game, then you'll probably find me sitting in front of the TV, yelling at my beloved Hokies (or Chokies, as they're affectionately known in my household). On Sunday's, you might find me watching some NFL. I tend to avoid watching them, though. There's just something about watching the NFL that I don't like. I can't really put my finger on it. Let's just say that I live for college football, and that sentiment is shared by my father.
It's amusing, actually. Dad usually has three football buddies (four, when I'm home). On any given Saturday, you can probably find him lying on the couch with Cleo (my cat) sitting above his head, and Kodi and Callie (our dogs) lying at his feet as they settle in to watch his alma mater play. By the second quarter, all four of them will probably have fallen asleep. It's Ok, though. They'll wake up in the middle of the third and watch until the end.
If there's a major game that's going to be played later in the evening, then sometimes dad cooks chili. He and I (and sometimes my brother) will go out and get all the neccessary ingredients earlier in the day, and when we return home, we begin the process of "building" the chili. Dad has a sworn by recipe that's never been written down and depends on constantly changing proportions of spices, meat and tomato products. Each pot of chili is a little different, so we've got to be flexible. While one batch might need more cayenne pepper, another might need more salt. Or maybe we need more tomato paste in one while another needs more water. Either way, we're constantly testing the chili as it cooks, making adjustments as need. By about 02:00 PM, we've usually got a rather large pot of chili simmering on the stove. About fifteen minutes before kickoff, we'll all gather around and dip out our bowls of the thick stew. This is where things get interesting.
Each member of my family has their own unique way of fixing their chili. Personally, I prefer to put a fair amount of shredded sharp cheese in mine, with a small dollop of sour cream. Dad tends to steer away from any cheese or sour cream, instead pulling out the Fritos Scoops that serve as his preferred method of consumption. My brother will also use the Fritos, but he usually throws some cheese in his chili as well. Mom's never been a huge fan of chili, but she'll eat it when Dad takes the time to cook it. She usually throws sour cream in hers, but no cheese.
One pot of chili usually produces enough thick, red stew for all four of us to go back for seconds (and sometimes thirds). In fact, usually we've got enough left over for us all to have at least a couple of bowls later in the week.
Chili is my family's big football tradition. It brings us all together in one way or another, even if during the beginning of the day, we'd been all doing our own things. In my humble opinion, I don't think there's anything better than coming into the house after running errands while home from college and smelling that distinct chili smell. At the end of the football season, I may not remember the final scores of all the huge games, or who even played the Super Bowl. I can bet you money, though, that I can remember those days where Dad and I stood around the stove, discussing what exactly was missing from the pot.
Once again, though, I am faced with the reality that my chili days are numbered. I'm away at college, and to be honest, chili doesn't exactly ship well through the USPS. So, I cherish those moments I have with my dad, cooking that chili. I cherish those nights spent sitting around the TV, yelling at the players and coaches as spoons (and Fritos) scrape the bottoms of bowls. I cherish that time I get to spend with my family, because I know that those moments are slowly beginning to dwindle in number.
So, whether your family's football tradition is wearing jerseys and face/warpaint or watching the game with friends in your team-themed room, remember this- these are the important moments. These are the moments that you'll remember for a lifetime. These are the moments.
With that said, I've got one last question for ya...
ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?!?!?!?!
Now, football's never been really big at my school. We've got a small team in a small division. We're not one of those teams you're going to see on ESPN or Fox (unless we make the playoffs like we did last year). My cousins and friends are jealous because instead of praying that I win a lottery to get a ticket, I just have to show my student ID and walk through the gate. In fact, I think most people are a little surprised that we even have a football team.
I support my football team, and I always will. However, my loyalty also lies with a couple of other teams. If our football game is an away game, then you'll probably find me sitting in front of the TV, yelling at my beloved Hokies (or Chokies, as they're affectionately known in my household). On Sunday's, you might find me watching some NFL. I tend to avoid watching them, though. There's just something about watching the NFL that I don't like. I can't really put my finger on it. Let's just say that I live for college football, and that sentiment is shared by my father.
It's amusing, actually. Dad usually has three football buddies (four, when I'm home). On any given Saturday, you can probably find him lying on the couch with Cleo (my cat) sitting above his head, and Kodi and Callie (our dogs) lying at his feet as they settle in to watch his alma mater play. By the second quarter, all four of them will probably have fallen asleep. It's Ok, though. They'll wake up in the middle of the third and watch until the end.
If there's a major game that's going to be played later in the evening, then sometimes dad cooks chili. He and I (and sometimes my brother) will go out and get all the neccessary ingredients earlier in the day, and when we return home, we begin the process of "building" the chili. Dad has a sworn by recipe that's never been written down and depends on constantly changing proportions of spices, meat and tomato products. Each pot of chili is a little different, so we've got to be flexible. While one batch might need more cayenne pepper, another might need more salt. Or maybe we need more tomato paste in one while another needs more water. Either way, we're constantly testing the chili as it cooks, making adjustments as need. By about 02:00 PM, we've usually got a rather large pot of chili simmering on the stove. About fifteen minutes before kickoff, we'll all gather around and dip out our bowls of the thick stew. This is where things get interesting.
Each member of my family has their own unique way of fixing their chili. Personally, I prefer to put a fair amount of shredded sharp cheese in mine, with a small dollop of sour cream. Dad tends to steer away from any cheese or sour cream, instead pulling out the Fritos Scoops that serve as his preferred method of consumption. My brother will also use the Fritos, but he usually throws some cheese in his chili as well. Mom's never been a huge fan of chili, but she'll eat it when Dad takes the time to cook it. She usually throws sour cream in hers, but no cheese.
One pot of chili usually produces enough thick, red stew for all four of us to go back for seconds (and sometimes thirds). In fact, usually we've got enough left over for us all to have at least a couple of bowls later in the week.
Chili is my family's big football tradition. It brings us all together in one way or another, even if during the beginning of the day, we'd been all doing our own things. In my humble opinion, I don't think there's anything better than coming into the house after running errands while home from college and smelling that distinct chili smell. At the end of the football season, I may not remember the final scores of all the huge games, or who even played the Super Bowl. I can bet you money, though, that I can remember those days where Dad and I stood around the stove, discussing what exactly was missing from the pot.
Once again, though, I am faced with the reality that my chili days are numbered. I'm away at college, and to be honest, chili doesn't exactly ship well through the USPS. So, I cherish those moments I have with my dad, cooking that chili. I cherish those nights spent sitting around the TV, yelling at the players and coaches as spoons (and Fritos) scrape the bottoms of bowls. I cherish that time I get to spend with my family, because I know that those moments are slowly beginning to dwindle in number.
So, whether your family's football tradition is wearing jerseys and face/warpaint or watching the game with friends in your team-themed room, remember this- these are the important moments. These are the moments that you'll remember for a lifetime. These are the moments.
With that said, I've got one last question for ya...
ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?!?!?!?!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
2010- Bring it!
And... it's official. At 03:05 PM today, my '09 pool season ended. No longer will I be spending days upon days maintaining and managing a pool. Instead, I get to go to classes... YIPPEE!! (yeah, right)
Though there were many trying moments this year, I've got to admit it- I think this was the best season I've had in my 3 years as a lifeguard. The people were great, the days weren't hugely stressful (most of the time) and, seeing as we had only 2 rescues (which were really just assists), I'd say we had a really successful season. Sure, in retrospect, I can pick out several moments that I'd like to do over... things I could've done better, but hey. Live and learn. I'll do better next year.
In so many ways, I learned so much this season. Not only did I learn about pool chemistry (anyone need their water tested??) and more about pool maintenance (how about diving boards? I could probably fix your diving board...), but I also gained better people and time management skills. My patience was tested several times, so I most certainly gained more of that virtue. And I think one of the biggest things I learned was to let go.
When I was first hired, my safety coordinator told me something I didn't even know about myself. Apparently I'm one of those people who believes in the saying "if you want something done and you want it done right, do it yourself." Looking back, I can definitely see where he'd say that. Anyway, when I was hired, he pointed that out and then told me he wanted me to stop that. I was a manager, and it while I did have more responsibilities and had to pull my weight, he didn't want me doing that. And so, over the course of the summer, I attempted to back off and let my guards do it... things like testing the water, cleaning the bathrooms, etc, etc. Sure, I did slip up a few times (but the tiles were never going to get scrubbed if I didn't do it!), but over all, I think I did and Ok job.
With that said, I think it's pretty clear in my mind that I'm optimistic for the 2010 pool season. True, I'm not sure if I'm going to return to my pool from this year. I've been at it for two years; it's probably time for a change of scenery. But, I think things will go well next season, and I've got faith in my supervisors. They'll put me where I need to be.
So, farewell, '09 Pool Season. You were fun (at times) and made life interesting.
To 2010: Bring it! I'm ready for you! :)
Though there were many trying moments this year, I've got to admit it- I think this was the best season I've had in my 3 years as a lifeguard. The people were great, the days weren't hugely stressful (most of the time) and, seeing as we had only 2 rescues (which were really just assists), I'd say we had a really successful season. Sure, in retrospect, I can pick out several moments that I'd like to do over... things I could've done better, but hey. Live and learn. I'll do better next year.
In so many ways, I learned so much this season. Not only did I learn about pool chemistry (anyone need their water tested??) and more about pool maintenance (how about diving boards? I could probably fix your diving board...), but I also gained better people and time management skills. My patience was tested several times, so I most certainly gained more of that virtue. And I think one of the biggest things I learned was to let go.
When I was first hired, my safety coordinator told me something I didn't even know about myself. Apparently I'm one of those people who believes in the saying "if you want something done and you want it done right, do it yourself." Looking back, I can definitely see where he'd say that. Anyway, when I was hired, he pointed that out and then told me he wanted me to stop that. I was a manager, and it while I did have more responsibilities and had to pull my weight, he didn't want me doing that. And so, over the course of the summer, I attempted to back off and let my guards do it... things like testing the water, cleaning the bathrooms, etc, etc. Sure, I did slip up a few times (but the tiles were never going to get scrubbed if I didn't do it!), but over all, I think I did and Ok job.
With that said, I think it's pretty clear in my mind that I'm optimistic for the 2010 pool season. True, I'm not sure if I'm going to return to my pool from this year. I've been at it for two years; it's probably time for a change of scenery. But, I think things will go well next season, and I've got faith in my supervisors. They'll put me where I need to be.
So, farewell, '09 Pool Season. You were fun (at times) and made life interesting.
To 2010: Bring it! I'm ready for you! :)
Friday, August 28, 2009
Invasion!
"Ohmygod, what is that?"
"Ewwwww.... gross! I thought I got away from those!"
"It looks like a centipede! ... Do you mind if I kill it?"
"By all means, kill it. I don't care."
Such was the conversation one of my suitmates and I held at 08:45 this morning, after she made an all too gross discovery. Apparently, our dorm has become a home to house centipedes... nasty little creatures with way too many legs and a creepy-crawly walk. The strange thing about it is, despite the fact that yes, we do have a lot of stuff in a small area, we're actually very clean. It's not like any of us live in pig sties or something like that.
As my suitmate danced around in the area right in front of the bathroom, I couldn't help but to be slightly amused once more. We used to get those all the time at the pool, and I kid you not, I did the exact same thing, only on a guard stand. It usually started with Jimmy putting umbrella's up behind me, the bug falling on my stand and me screaming the ever typical comment.
"Ohmygod, gross!!! Jimmy, kill it!!"
Thus, Jimmy would walk over, laugh at my hysterical reaction to the small creature and proceed to flick it off the stand. Unfortunately, Jimmy was over 200 miles away from this creature, so he couldn't flick it away for my suitemate and I. Instead, my suitemate put on a brave face, grabbed a flip-flop and proceeded to crush the creature with it.
I think my suitemate said it best as we looked at the now dead but still gross creature post-mortem.
"I swear to God, if one of those things crawls on me when I'm sleeping, I'm going to scream fucking bloody murder."
Me too, Chica. Me too.
"Ewwwww.... gross! I thought I got away from those!"
"It looks like a centipede! ... Do you mind if I kill it?"
"By all means, kill it. I don't care."
Such was the conversation one of my suitmates and I held at 08:45 this morning, after she made an all too gross discovery. Apparently, our dorm has become a home to house centipedes... nasty little creatures with way too many legs and a creepy-crawly walk. The strange thing about it is, despite the fact that yes, we do have a lot of stuff in a small area, we're actually very clean. It's not like any of us live in pig sties or something like that.
As my suitmate danced around in the area right in front of the bathroom, I couldn't help but to be slightly amused once more. We used to get those all the time at the pool, and I kid you not, I did the exact same thing, only on a guard stand. It usually started with Jimmy putting umbrella's up behind me, the bug falling on my stand and me screaming the ever typical comment.
"Ohmygod, gross!!! Jimmy, kill it!!"
Thus, Jimmy would walk over, laugh at my hysterical reaction to the small creature and proceed to flick it off the stand. Unfortunately, Jimmy was over 200 miles away from this creature, so he couldn't flick it away for my suitemate and I. Instead, my suitemate put on a brave face, grabbed a flip-flop and proceeded to crush the creature with it.
I think my suitemate said it best as we looked at the now dead but still gross creature post-mortem.
"I swear to God, if one of those things crawls on me when I'm sleeping, I'm going to scream fucking bloody murder."
Me too, Chica. Me too.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Did They Have These Problems????
Even though I'm back to school it seems like I can't get away from the pool. This time, though, my inability to leave it isn't work-related. Instead, it deals with where my class is located.
James Madison University was originally founded as an all-women college called The State Normal and Industrial School for Women in 1908. It was a small campus located in the Shenandoah Valley, tiny compared to what it is now. There were only roughly 13 buildings, all of which are still in use today (though all with renovations, while still keeping their original charm). Wilson Hall is the centerpiece of what is known today as The Quad, and if you look at it from there, you'll see Keezell Hall branching off to the right, and Maury Hall to the right. The hall we'll be focusing on today is Keezell.
Back when it first opened, Keezell Hall was the gym, complete with a large pool in the ground floor. Today, the gym is known as UREC, is located across campus (and across the interstate), and yes, it does have a pool. Keezell Hall has been renovated, and now serves as the home of the English and Foreign Language departments. My American Literature Post 1865 class is located in what was originally the well of the pool.
Upon hearing this, I was a little surprised; I'd never known there was a gym here before. However, upon surveying the room once more, it became all too evident to me that indeed this had been a swimming pool. Thus, I resigned myself to "another five months at the pool." As the teacher began her lecture, though, I found my thoughts drifting into a rather interesting direction... a direction I know all to well... a lifeguarding direction. I began thinking about pool chemistry, chlorine and pH. How did they regulate that back then? Did they have chlorine pumps like we have now? If so, how did they work?
While thinking about all of this, I couldn't help but to remember all the chlorine mishaps at Foxcroft. Did the pool here have the same problems as us? Or, maybe I should consider elaborating on what exactly a chlorine mishap is...
Commence Lifeguarding Flashback
It was a June morning when one of my guards, Melissa, and I were cleaning the hairstrainer. Everything had been going well- the pool was clean, the pressure wasn't too high and pool chemistry was perfect. Remaining optimistic, I put the basket in the hairstrainer, primed it, shut it and turned it on as Melissa walked out of the pump room. All of a sudden, a clear liquid starts shooting out of our return valve, and catches Melissa on her leg. She yelps, I yelp and we turn the pump off. Thus, I get the job of calling my supervisor and telling her what's going on.
Me: Hey, we've got a problem over here.
Supervisor: What's going on?
Me: Well, our return valve is shooting clear liquid at us everytime we turn the system on. It wasn't doing this until after we cleaned the hairstrainer.
My supervisor assures me that she'll be at the pool ASAP; leave the system off and run things as normal. Twenty minutes later, she shows up, and I show her what's going on. As soon as I turn off the pump, she gives me a look.
Supervisor: You don't smell that?
Me: Smell what?
Supervisor: That's chlorine spraying out of the tube.
As a lifeguard (and a history major with an interest in WWI) I'm well aware of the dangers of chlorine. It can give you a headache in small doses, knock you out with a large whiff, burn the lining of the lungs and your skin, and yes, it can kill you. All things considered, though, it's not nearly as dangerous as another chemical we have at the pool, muriatic acid, better known as hydrochloric acid (but that's another story for another day).
Immediately, the supervisor set to fixing out problem- the cracked feed tube. I left, and went through rotation. As I was sitting at the gate, my supervisor let me know she got the problem fixed. She leaves, and we continued running the pool. All day, though, we keep smelling chlorine near the pump room. Even I'm smelling it, and that's saying something. Finally, with a shirt over my nose, I go into the pump room and am astonished at what I see.
Chlorine bubbling from the same tube that was fixed earlier, just in a different spot. Sighing, I got and get my cellphone, once again calling my supervisor and letting her know what's up. She comes out and patches it with an all-mighty tool- duct tape. The seal holds (and has held since that day), and we leave at 8 when the pool closes.
Fast Forward 2 Months
I was running off of fumes when I unlocked the gate to the pool on a Friday morning, after attending a manager meeting at the other end of the county. The first thing I'm greeted with as I unlocked the snack shack was a large puddle of chocolate on the floor with ants all over it.
Me: Great. Shit.
Now, not only did I have to open the pool but I had to solve this mystery too. Somedays I hated my job.
Melissa came in, and we opened the pool, with both of us noticing a strong smell of chlorine again. This was weird. I checked all the barrels, the tube and the feed, and nothing was leaking. I decided it was from where I'd refilled the baby pool chlorinator with skimmer sticks earlier.
Two hours later, I finally discovered the source of the chocolate mystery. Our freezer hadn't been shut the entire way, and had slowly defrosted during the night, leaving all ice cream sandwiches to melt. Lovely. I got to clean it all up and move everything to the other freezer. As I was cleaning, I still noticed this chlorine smell. Once again, I checked the tubing, and found nothing wrong. Certainly I wasn't going insane- other lifeguards had mentioned it too. So, why couldn't I find the problem?
6 o'clock rolls around, and I happened to meander into the pump room to look for something. The overwhelming smell of chlorine hits me, and I look down to see the tubing that feeds into the return valve bubbling. Well, good to know that problem's solved. Now, how the hell do we fix it? We'd already cut the tubing once before when it decided to spew chlorine every where.
In the end, our other supervisor had to come fix it. It was patched quickly, though, and everything was Ok.
End Lifeguarding Flashback
So, now I find myself in yet another pool, albeit an emptied and renovated one for academic instead of professional reasons. It's a new place, and eventually, I'll get used to it (and the lack of windows). I don't like the room, and I don't really like the class. Despite it all, I know one thing. At least I won't have to worry about leaking chlorine tubes. :)
James Madison University was originally founded as an all-women college called The State Normal and Industrial School for Women in 1908. It was a small campus located in the Shenandoah Valley, tiny compared to what it is now. There were only roughly 13 buildings, all of which are still in use today (though all with renovations, while still keeping their original charm). Wilson Hall is the centerpiece of what is known today as The Quad, and if you look at it from there, you'll see Keezell Hall branching off to the right, and Maury Hall to the right. The hall we'll be focusing on today is Keezell.
Back when it first opened, Keezell Hall was the gym, complete with a large pool in the ground floor. Today, the gym is known as UREC, is located across campus (and across the interstate), and yes, it does have a pool. Keezell Hall has been renovated, and now serves as the home of the English and Foreign Language departments. My American Literature Post 1865 class is located in what was originally the well of the pool.
Upon hearing this, I was a little surprised; I'd never known there was a gym here before. However, upon surveying the room once more, it became all too evident to me that indeed this had been a swimming pool. Thus, I resigned myself to "another five months at the pool." As the teacher began her lecture, though, I found my thoughts drifting into a rather interesting direction... a direction I know all to well... a lifeguarding direction. I began thinking about pool chemistry, chlorine and pH. How did they regulate that back then? Did they have chlorine pumps like we have now? If so, how did they work?
While thinking about all of this, I couldn't help but to remember all the chlorine mishaps at Foxcroft. Did the pool here have the same problems as us? Or, maybe I should consider elaborating on what exactly a chlorine mishap is...
Commence Lifeguarding Flashback
It was a June morning when one of my guards, Melissa, and I were cleaning the hairstrainer. Everything had been going well- the pool was clean, the pressure wasn't too high and pool chemistry was perfect. Remaining optimistic, I put the basket in the hairstrainer, primed it, shut it and turned it on as Melissa walked out of the pump room. All of a sudden, a clear liquid starts shooting out of our return valve, and catches Melissa on her leg. She yelps, I yelp and we turn the pump off. Thus, I get the job of calling my supervisor and telling her what's going on.
Me: Hey, we've got a problem over here.
Supervisor: What's going on?
Me: Well, our return valve is shooting clear liquid at us everytime we turn the system on. It wasn't doing this until after we cleaned the hairstrainer.
My supervisor assures me that she'll be at the pool ASAP; leave the system off and run things as normal. Twenty minutes later, she shows up, and I show her what's going on. As soon as I turn off the pump, she gives me a look.
Supervisor: You don't smell that?
Me: Smell what?
Supervisor: That's chlorine spraying out of the tube.
As a lifeguard (and a history major with an interest in WWI) I'm well aware of the dangers of chlorine. It can give you a headache in small doses, knock you out with a large whiff, burn the lining of the lungs and your skin, and yes, it can kill you. All things considered, though, it's not nearly as dangerous as another chemical we have at the pool, muriatic acid, better known as hydrochloric acid (but that's another story for another day).
Immediately, the supervisor set to fixing out problem- the cracked feed tube. I left, and went through rotation. As I was sitting at the gate, my supervisor let me know she got the problem fixed. She leaves, and we continued running the pool. All day, though, we keep smelling chlorine near the pump room. Even I'm smelling it, and that's saying something. Finally, with a shirt over my nose, I go into the pump room and am astonished at what I see.
Chlorine bubbling from the same tube that was fixed earlier, just in a different spot. Sighing, I got and get my cellphone, once again calling my supervisor and letting her know what's up. She comes out and patches it with an all-mighty tool- duct tape. The seal holds (and has held since that day), and we leave at 8 when the pool closes.
Fast Forward 2 Months
I was running off of fumes when I unlocked the gate to the pool on a Friday morning, after attending a manager meeting at the other end of the county. The first thing I'm greeted with as I unlocked the snack shack was a large puddle of chocolate on the floor with ants all over it.
Me: Great. Shit.
Now, not only did I have to open the pool but I had to solve this mystery too. Somedays I hated my job.
Melissa came in, and we opened the pool, with both of us noticing a strong smell of chlorine again. This was weird. I checked all the barrels, the tube and the feed, and nothing was leaking. I decided it was from where I'd refilled the baby pool chlorinator with skimmer sticks earlier.
Two hours later, I finally discovered the source of the chocolate mystery. Our freezer hadn't been shut the entire way, and had slowly defrosted during the night, leaving all ice cream sandwiches to melt. Lovely. I got to clean it all up and move everything to the other freezer. As I was cleaning, I still noticed this chlorine smell. Once again, I checked the tubing, and found nothing wrong. Certainly I wasn't going insane- other lifeguards had mentioned it too. So, why couldn't I find the problem?
6 o'clock rolls around, and I happened to meander into the pump room to look for something. The overwhelming smell of chlorine hits me, and I look down to see the tubing that feeds into the return valve bubbling. Well, good to know that problem's solved. Now, how the hell do we fix it? We'd already cut the tubing once before when it decided to spew chlorine every where.
In the end, our other supervisor had to come fix it. It was patched quickly, though, and everything was Ok.
End Lifeguarding Flashback
So, now I find myself in yet another pool, albeit an emptied and renovated one for academic instead of professional reasons. It's a new place, and eventually, I'll get used to it (and the lack of windows). I don't like the room, and I don't really like the class. Despite it all, I know one thing. At least I won't have to worry about leaking chlorine tubes. :)
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