Counseling Cessations

11 02 2011

The winter of our discontent should be a happy time, because winter is the ebb of life.  If our life is one of discontent, winter is discontent’s greatest ebb.

Unless you meant to say that this is the winter of our discontent, as in “the winter of ’09.”  But I don’t know why this particular winter would be identified with our discontent so much, unless we’re just really S.A.D.

English has so many words that are incredibly versatile.  Some of my favorites, lately:  Have, mean, slug, like, diversify.

Are smartphones the primary cause of bad posture today?

I have done and liked doing the following:

Eaten bread for dinner.

Sprinted through Downtown Disney despite being yelled at by staff to stop.

Done nothing but read for an entire day for fun.

Eaten eight Krispy Kreme doughnuts in an hour while in a good mood.

Broken a rule I didn’t agree with because I thought I was above the rules, then later lectured someone for doing the same thing, then broken a different rule with them.

Spent half an hour looking for a $1 flip flop because I was annoyed at the person who lost it.

Faked a southern accent anytime I answered the phone at work.

Broken my collar bone by flipping my bike off a ramp.

Never worn a cast.

Played a butler, a judge, a troubled adolescent drummer, a veterinarian, Winnie-the-Pooh, and a shepherd.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This is I

2 09 2010

I don't remember this picture. I may be asleep.

Camp was interesting.  I went there every year and met new people and did new things.  One interesting thing about the camp I went to every year was that none of the people at that camp (Except for my family and a couple of miscellaneous adults) knew anything about me other than what they learned about me while I was at camp.  This was interesting.  It was kind of like the first few weeks of dating someone, when you’re pretty sure they’re amazing, but you’re wary of spending more time with them the longer it goes because you suspect they can’t be that awesome (hint: they’re not.  At least, I’m not).

So, I kept going back to this camp for something like seven years.  I eventually roomed with one of the people I met there.  I visited a couple of other people from camp in 2005 on what was then my longest drive I’d ever taken.  I may have left some of my clothes at their house, and never got them back.  I believe my Bear Naked shirt was one of those items, and I got that shirt at camp along with Ian, another guy from camp.  Meaning that I bought the shirt and he bought one as well.  Not that I bought Ian at camp.  Although I did beat him at fake poker a couple times.

I went back to that camp last year as a counselor.  It was fantastic.  I had to check myself a couple of times when I started weirding out these 7th graders as I started telling them how much fun they were going to have at camp.  Some of them sort of believed me, but most of them just didn’t understand what I was trying to communicate.  I think they suspected me of something in the way kids suspect lifeguards of sinister motives when they tell them not to run by the pool.  Incidentally, I never liked the lifeguards at camp.  They were hired goons.  Water goons.

It’s hard to realize that I won’t have a place like camp again.  Not exactly like it, at least.  I’ll have other places, though.  And I’ll have camp, even if it turns into something different.  As I see my camp friends grow up and get married (sometimes to each other) or begin to wander from their faith or grow stronger in it, I wonder how present that eventual mentality was in all of us back then.  Was I already the psuedo-cynical writer destined to not be able to support himself through writing about being cynical and wearing…suede…shoes?  I don’t think so.  I think college (or the equivalent time period in most people’s lives of ideas becoming solidified and ideals beginning to supplant fantasies) probably did a lot of that.  I think that means camp can only do so much for you.  I thankfully stopped fairly early on trying to squeeze more dream realization out of camp — I made some good friends, and I made some embarrassing mistakes (You done goofed!), but at least I was never “that guy who…” at camp.  My reputation is something I value pretty highly, even if I’m sometimes too lazy to maintain it as well as I should.  I’m grateful I can still look people from camp in the eye (except for that stupid pointy unicorn), and I’m especially grateful for any opportunity to hand down such a great series of experiences and dreams (realized and ongoing alike) to some kids.  Whenever I start to get annoyed about having to think up new games for the kids on Thursday night…that’s what I’ll have to tell myself.

And seriously, I don’t remember EVER letting Joe take a picture with me.





And Nyet

10 02 2010

If you could sum up your personality in one superhero, who would it be?

I would say that I am the Black Hornet.

Now, while this picture is apparently showing the hero in one of his many disguises, I think our commonalities are fairly obvious:

1.  We both like to buzz around people’s ears with our wings

2.  Like the hornet, I also have an invisible manservant who drives me everywhere I go.  I just make him sit in the passenger seat so I can drive all the time.

3.  Both of our great uncles were the Lone Ranger.  ( Seriously.  Look it up.)

4.  We both have trademark black masks that we use during crime fighting and ballroom dancing.

5.  Ol’ TBH and I both have knockout gas that we use whenever gas prices get too high.

6.  Stripes.

– – – –

In conclusion, don’t feel bad just because you don’t resemble a superhero as closely as I do.  Some things just can’t be taught.  (Like the old table tennis net in our youth group room)





Back Intact

1 02 2010

And we’re back.  Pay no attention to doppelgangers, identity thieves or Oxford commas; give no mindful credulity to those who would spurn your royal we.  The I in Iowa is here, and he’s spilling Starbucks Zen Tea all over himself and his Woot! shirt.

Let me clarify:

We’re back on the air after a little interterm break.  Because, let’s face it:  the academic calendar, while likely to spoil you and deprive you of energy and the will to go on, is probably the best calendar there is.  Gregorians be darned.

Books finished: 3 Sayers, 1 McCullough, 1 Lewis and 2 Conleys.  As in, Darby Conley.

Hey hey hey! Can’t we all just get a lawn?  -Satchel

As you can see, a frenetic mindset is the name of the game tonight.

Oh, I got a promotion.  At least, I didn’t get fired.  And I’m getting paid more.  And I have started worrying about work tasks during my free time.

Bemoaning and groaning brood infinite loathing

From readers and feeders alike,

But if man’s true music has yet to be used, it

Will prove to improve when it ends.





Scintillation

28 11 2009

Dreams can surprise at the strangest of times

But rarely do they stay remembered

For instance, last night

My dream gave me a fright

But those images are now dismembered.

– – – – –

I dreamed (saying dreamt seems so pre….verse….) last night about someone I met a long time ago.  They had gotten married, but only recently, and they suddenly had a child.  I somehow found this out while eating at the taco shack with former college roommates.  I guess the taco shack is a hub of information these days.  Only, it was also my house, in the dream.  We had a big front porch outside of the taco shack house, but I remember suddenly coming face to face with this guy that I had never really spoken with, but I was kind of intimidated by him.  AT FIRST.  Then, I brushed him off like so much lint from a blazer, and started repairing my bunk bed.

So.  I am reminiscing about some dumb dream I had that makes no sense and was probably brought on by too much food (or not enough food…?  Perhaps.) the day before.  Why does this seem important to me?  Because I remember it.  I usually don’t remember dreams (except for a few recurring ones throughout my life), but this one has managed to elude cerebral effacement  (Good band name).   I like this.  Effectually, it’s like I have been told a secret by someone who then died.  I am the only person who knows what happened at the taco shack (because I ingeniously hid the names from your eyes!), and I don’t plan on revealing what I think it means any time soon.  Oh, I know what it means.  Connecting the dots in this subconscious novella is a paint-by-flipping-numbers exercise to me.  But I’m on vacation, and you’re in consternation, and the taco shack will retain its information!

Hello, candy time!





Cory Got Sick of My Reading Facts about the Komodo Dragon

12 10 2009

Could someone please explain to me how the following gruesome picture is not a DINOSAUR?!?!?

Like I said, it’s sort of gruesome…if you don’t like seeing animals eat animals.

But it’s just a picture.

So no big deal.

Right?





Input

14 07 2009

In honor of Short Circuit, which Thatcher and I watched tonight, I’ll present a short list of what I’m listening to right now (not right now):

Andrew Osenga, Four Horses

Ben Folds, Best Imitation of Myself

Derek Webb, I Want a Broken Heart

Run DMC, Run’s House

Muse, Map of the Problematique