All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands

It's weird thinking about what the future holds.

I'm not really sure why, but over the last few weeks, everyone seems to be asking me what I'll be doing with my life after college. The truth is, I really have no idea. I'm an unofficial history major and a critical studies minor, but that really doesn't mean anything. I mean, yeah I like history and movies, but who knows what's in store when I finally graduate.

I'd love to live in New York for a little bit.
But living in New York requires a source of income.
Which requires a job.
Which requires knowing what you want to do.
I mean.
I guess I can have a job without knowing what I want to do, but I'd prefer to be doing something with a purpose.

I tell everyone that I want to do something with movies, like production or "film research," a position I'm not even sure exists. Well, that's not entirely true. It does exist, it's just not what I thought it was. And don't get me wrong, I'd love to work in the film industry, but how realistic is that really?

I'm not even sure what kind of degree I need to even do that kind of stuff.

Lately though, I've been thinking about teaching and how that would be. My history teachers in high school are the reason I like history so much and are the reason I'm focusing four years of my life studying it. To know that I could have that impact, and set an example for younger people excites me, but at the same time it's not something I'm set on.

Teaching has always been in the back of my mind. Something that I've always thought about doing, but never really thought would become a reality. It's always been something that I'm hesitant to commit to, and I'm not really sure why.

I know I have a couple years to figure everything out, but I can't help thinking about this stuff on a daily basis.


And who knows?
Maybe I'll end up being some business man at some huge corporation.



^Whoops.
Jokes are funny.

Tornado

Okay.

So I'm taking a screenwriting class this semester and it's incredibly awesome. I mean, we talk about movies for three hours, so how can there possibly be a downside?

We just had a pitch assignment where we had to write down three pitches for future movie scripts, and I was excited because I have a few cool ideas that I'm starting to work on.
I get to writing them and realize that one of them is terrible/unoriginal/whoops.

It goes a little like this:

A guy realizes that he has a lot of regret, so he goes back in time to fix his mistakes, only to realize that his mistakes make him who he is and decides to leave them in place.


If it sounds familiar, it's because it's kind of a combo of Back to the Future and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Both great films, but I would prefer to do something that doesn't have someone go, "This is exactly like such and such."

So I scrapped that idea and was trying to think of something new, when this awesome idea popped into my head. I honestly don't know what got me thinking about it, but I was so stoked about it, so I wrote my pitch for it and anxiously waited for class to start so I could talk to someone about it.

I'm not going to say what it is though. Not that producers scour the internet searching for blogs to get script ideas so they can steal them from helpless college students, but it could happen.
Maybe.
Probably not, but I really like this idea and would prefer it if someone didn't go all Social Network on it.

So after sitting through about an hour of class, it was time for us to read our favorite pitch, so I read mine. I'm not sure if I've ever been more confident about anything in my entire life than I was about this idea, so I read it, trying to sound all intense and into it so everyone would be amazed by it. Thirty seconds later I look up at my professor and he goes:

"Have you read ___ _____ ____ _____? It sounds just like it."


BURN.


I think my face exploded at that point just out of sheer embarrassment/anger/death.

It's like someone never seeing/hearing/knowing about Star Wars (God help them) and writing a treatment for a space saga about a Jedi and his evil father. Then someone tells them that George Lucas already made billions off that idea, so eff off.




So yeah.
That was my Tuesday night.
Thanks Screenwriting.

Colors In Array

Okay.

I'm finally writing one of these things again.

I'm not really sure why I haven't been keeping up with it.
Well.
Okay, that's a lie.
Honestly, I haven't had much inspiration/drive/desire to even write, which kind of sucks because I left you faithful readers with a huge cliffhanger.

I said I was gonna be more honest and then bam, I'm gone.
I'm like your favorite TV show that promises the goods and then the finale episode was a complete letdown.
Stupid television.

Well now it's premiere time.
Which is funny because school is about to start so that kind of makes sense.

A couple things before I get into this.

1. Go see Scott Pilgrim vs. the World if you haven't already. It's incredibly fresh and original.
2. I now have sandwich cutters in the shape of a Tie-fighter and the Millennium Falcon. If you don't know what either of those are...shame on you.

Okay so I'm in love with comic books.
I've been hearing about this awesome book called Blankets for a while but haven't found it in any store.

Cut to the other day when I walk into Barnes and Noble and find it in the graphic novel section.
It was also $30.00 (Whoops).
But.
It was well worth it.
I don't think I've been that emotionally moved by a comic ever.
It's 600 pages of amazingness and if you ever have the chance to read it...please do.

It's a story about growing up/relationships/love/heartbreak/lost faith and it has stuck with me ever since I finished the last page, and I'm not sure if that's what is giving me the inspiration to write this, or it's other stupid occurrences that these last few days have brought, but I'm loving it.

I took a break from this whole blogging thing because it was becoming kind of stagnant. I wrote a bunch, but it didn't really mean anything. Some of it did, but a lot of it was me talking just to talk, and I hate that. I wanted to write about stuff that I felt passionate about, and I think I'm finding out what that is finally.

During high school, the "adults" would always ask you what you had a passion for.
Some people knew.
I never did.
They'd go around the room and answers like ministry and politics would be said without hesitation, but when it came to me, I always hesitated. I mean...I liked missions trips and capital hill as much as the next person, but they were never passions of mine. I wouldn't even come up with an answer. I just didn't know. That usually came with some weird look from the teacher, but can most teachers say that they really have a passion for teaching and putting up with annoying teenagers all day?

Boom. Roasted.

Now, if I were have that question asked again at this very moment I wouldn't hesitate at all.
I'm in love with film.
I adore comic books.
And I'm passionate about love and finding great relationships.


So...ya...take that high school.
No one likes you anyway.

Little Lion Man

The first summer after college is kind of a weird thing...

A year ago I remember thinking that things would definitely be different by the time I was back, but I didn't expect things to change so drastically so quickly.

Not that I hate it at all.
I'm usually okay with change.
Change is cool.
Yay change!

I guess I thought I would care more or something.
I've lost friends.
Great friends who I thought I would talk to and hang out with for a while, and it didn't really change my life. Actually putting that into words is a little weird, and looks a little awful, but it's the truth. We went to talking almost every day to going weeks without contact.

I thought, "Yeah, I'll be back and we'll all be a little different thats for sure, but it won't be too bad."
Instead, we all kind of changed a ton. Some...well actually, a lot seemed to decrease in age. It was as if the only thing that college taught them was that everything is possible through a constant state of inebriation.

Whoops.

I'm not really sure why it is that it hasn't affected me me that much.
Am I putting the blame on them?
Sometimes I do that. I convince myself that I was the right one, even if I was obviously the one to ruin things just so I don't hurt as much. I'm not sure if that was the case here, but it's certainly an option. I'm not even sure if this whole friend issue is something I should be worrying about.


I'm not sure about a lot of things I guess.


I mean, I would love to say that everything going back to the way it was would make my day, but I don't think that would be the case.
In losing some relationships, I've gained new ones that I wouldn't give up for anything.


And I think I like it that way.

She Was Only In It For The Rain

So I haven't written one of these in a million years.

(Just checked. It's been 14 days. Oops.)

Why haven't I been writing you say?

I'm not sure if I have a good answer for you.
This is my blog.
I can do what I want, when I want.
So.
Get over it.
Stop asking!

But in the time that I haven't been writing on here, I started something new. Not really a blog. More like a journal. Which is kind of what this is, but my journal is a bit more uncensored (Yikes!). Well, not really uncensored. More like unedited. There's only been one entry in it, but I just kind of wrote down everything I was feeling without really thinking about it.

Which is kind of what I wanted this to be.
A place to kind of vent about random crap that didn't really matter.
It started that way, I think, and in a way it kind of still is, I just have to take out all the important stuff so nobody knows who or what it's really about, and that's not really how things should go, is it?

We hide our true feelings so that no one gets hurt.
We put on some stupid mask that tells everyone, "I'm good, don't worry about me," but really we're crumbling away inside.
We laugh, make jokes, and continue as normal so that we don't have to deal with everyone asking what is wrong, and then have to explain your mess of a situation to anyone.

So why haven't I been writing lately?
Maybe I'm scared to talk about the serious stuff that I really want to talk about.
Maybe I'm ready to take off the mask and be a little more real.

Don't get me wrong though, you won't return to find a huge cryfest on here, but it might be a little different.
Or maybe I'll change my mind in the next few days and completely throw out everything I just said.
But I doubt it.

So think of this as a slight reboot.
Nothing to be afraid of.
Every title will still be the name of a song.
I'll still say oops in almost every one.
It'll just be a little bit less edited I guess.

So.
Here.
We.
Go.

Yellow Cat (Slash) Red Cat

Allergies are the worst thing to ever plague mankind.

Bubonic Plague?
Malaria?
Swine Flu?

You've all been dethroned by the Springtime Allergy.
It almost makes me not want to have eyes or a nose.

There are few things that actually get me seriously pissed off (Don't ever flick me in the ear, or you'll find out exactly what I mean). Allergies are definitely at the top of the hate list though.

Example:
I sneezed 16 times the other day (Yes, I kept track).
16 times!!
Do you know how obnoxious that is?
So obnoxious, that's how obnoxious it is.

There's nothing you can really do about it either. Taking Claritin helps maybe half the time, and eye drops sometimes just make things worse. I know I just have to wait it out because its pretty much summer anyway and I'll be fine in a few weeks, but these allergies are just making it seem never ending.

Okay.
There's my small, angry rant.
Off to bed now.

Reckless Abandonment

Okay.

Confession time.

I don't have a topic planned for this write (Whoops).

Usually, I'll think of an awesome topic to write about before I blog. Sometimes it takes a while to think of a good one, and sometimes it comes easier.

But today, I'm saying "screw you" to the system and just winging it, which is something that I rarely do in my life. I always have to have a plan. Always have to think about every little detail before I do anything.

Hanging out?
Who's gonna be there?
What time?
Where at?
Do I really want to hang out with these people?
Yes.
No.
Ehh...what else am I gonna do tonight?
Okay, should I be on time?
What if so-and-so is there?

On top of that, I over-think absolutely everything.

She wants to hang out.
Just me and her?
Does that mean anything?
Should I make a move?
Probably not.
Wait, what if that's what she wants?
What if I make a move and get denied? That'll just ruin everything. Friendship over.

Anyways, I'm not sure if I'm going off on rant, but the point is:
I need to let go and just wing it sometimes.
Take risks.
Make the move.
Stop planning out every detail that won't matter in 2 hours.

I just need to relax. Stop worrying. Yes, that is definitely easier said than done, but I gotta work at it. I'll eventually go crazy if nothing is done.

 So we'll see where this goes.

Go Places

So I had this awesome plan.

To blog while on the plane to Hawaii (I'm in Hawaii if you didn't know).

I got my laptop out, all ready to go, feeling good about the words that were about to be typed, when a huge wave of exhaustion hit me.

Side Note: I woke up at 5 in the morning after going to bed at 1. Whoops.


So suffice to say, the awesome blog I had planned did not happen, so now you're stuck with this last minute decision of a blog that might not live up to your expectations. It's still about my flight, so if that's what you really want to hear about, you're in luck.

Okay. This prologue is done.





Why is it that parents take their newborns on airplanes?
Oh you just had a baby? Shouldn't you be at home with it instead of bringing it on a flying, metal death trap?
No? You're just gonna let it cry the whole flight? Okay. Awesome...

Babies were crying during my flight, I'm not sure if you caught that. If I had to guess, there were at least 16 babies on board. Probably more like 2, but it felt like 16. With each new cry that came out, I grew more and more frustrated. Don't get me wrong, I love kids. I'll play peek-a-boo all day long, I don't care. But when they start to scream bloody murder...I'm gone. And when you're in an airplane, there is no escape. All hope is lost. You just have to sit there and hope that it goes away, which it eventually did, and I went back to thinking they were little angels.

Also.

Snack boxes saved the day.
Thank you, United Airlines.
You.
Rock.

I was close to starving (most likely a lie) when Matt noticed that snack boxes were being sold.
Goldfish?
Oreos?
Jelly Beans?
Salami?
Crackers?
Yes. It had them all, and I have never been so thankful for a cardboard box in my whole life.

Overall, pretty good flight.
Read some Scott Pilgrim.
Watched Flight of the Concords (Never realized how amazing that show was and am now planning on buying all of the seasons).
Slept instead of writing.

And now the fun begins. A week in Hawaii with some friends and one sister, and I cannot be more stoked. This summer is really looking to be the best yet.

I'm Ready, I Am

I most likely shouldn't be writing this.

It's 3 A.M. and I'm not entirely sure if my renewed energy is actually from me being awake, or if it's from me being so tired I feel like I'm more awake than I am.

Either way, this is happening so we'll see how it goes.



Why is it that whenever you're far away from a problem, it feels like it doesn't matter as much? We kind of loosen our responsibility a bit, don't we? It's as if the problem doesn't really exist if you're hours away from it. Now, this could be freeing and stress-relieving, but is it really that good to be shunning you're worries?

I think any sane person would say no. Yeah, it's great to be carefree and not have to deal with anything, but we all know that those papers still have to be filed when you sit down at your desk the next morning (I am really proud of this metaphor...just thought you should know). We all know that even if you're far away from your dilemma, it still exists. You still have to come back to it.

That's a little how I feel.

I was at school, not really having to deal with much except for studying and all that good stuff, but I knew what was waiting for me back home.

Job hunting.
Family drama.
Friend drama.

It was nice to push it all away for a while, but the reality is that you can never really get rid of the things that stress you out the most. Well okay, there's probably a few exceptions, but you can never get rid of the important things that stress you out. I wouldn't be stressed if I didn't care about each of these (maybe the job thing is a little less important than family/friends), and I'm realizing that I can't ditch my responsibilities anymore.

I need to be there for my family and friends. I need to stress about is so I can figure out how I can be the best person I can be in each of these situations. I need to figure out how to overcome the obstacles so I don't get so frustrated.

Being home, back to face everything that I've been running from, has been a good lesson in responsibility. I might not like what I'm learning all the time, but it's something that I need to do.

Guilty Cocker Spaniels

I have a problem.

Not a huge problem.

In fact, it's barely a problem at all. More like a nuisance. An annoying little thing that doesn't really matter, but still gets to me constantly.

I stutter.

Everything is entering my brain so fast and I want to say so many things that it doesn't really come out clearly. It's not extreme, but if you have spent more than 5 minutes with me, you know what I'm talking about. It's a hard thing to describe. Sometimes it happens, and sometimes it doesn't, but when it does it's a hard thing to get under control. I'll have to stop and collect myself and talk slower or just say something else entirely.

Usually when you think of stuttering, a scrawny, geeky kid comes to mind. A cute girl walks up and asks him a question, only to have his mind explode. He doesn't know what to say, his words don't make sense, and he's probably stuttering a lot.

While my mind doesn't explode into utter nonsense, and it's not the nervousness that triggers it, I do get incredibly embarrassed whenever it happens. When people point it out, I try to act cool about it, but how cool can you really act when all you did is repeat a few words and syllables for a good 30 seconds?

I mean, I can't really help it. All I can really do is talk slower and think more about what I'm gonna say, which never really happens anyway. On occasion I'll take the time to develop my words, but how realistic is that really? I can't just take a few minutes to mull over a response to a question. People would be incredibly bored.

As I've grown up, I've kind of come to accept it. I still get embarrassed when it happens, but I tend to brush it off quicker. It's part of who I am, and it probably won't be going away anytime soon.

I think maybe I'm starting to be okay with it.

I may not be able to stop it, but I can at least deal with it.

That's pretty good progress, right?

Missed The Boat

Today.
Was.
Epic.


Epic might be a bit much, but I exaggerate a lot so it's gonna stay.

Solid might be a better word.

Fantastic could work too.


Anyways.
It started off with a dentist appointment. Stop scoffing and continue reading because this isn't the epic part. I will say though, that getting your teeth cleaned has to be the most annoying thing in the world. Sorry mom, you do a great job, but sitting in a chair and getting your teeth scraped for half an hour isn't my idea of a good time.

After, me and a couple friends kicked off a day long event of watching all of the Lord of the Rings movies. Yeah, I know, you're green with envy. I mean, come on, who doesn't want to sit in front of the T.V. for hours with little to no contact with the outside world while watching giant eagles be incredibly awesome?

Started at 1.
Ended at Midnight.

Epic.

Longest movies ever though. They're each about three hours. (The actual longest movie ever, according to Kelli Shea's top notch detective skills, is 150 hours long. I don't know who would ever sit through that, but kudos to you if that's your thing)


I've never really felt a sense of accomplishment after watching a film, but count tonight as a first.
I've also never wanted to have a bow more than I do right now, so there's that.



Also.
My room still kind of smells like pizza with a little bit of fart mixed in...so...hopefully that can be resolved in the near future.

Transatlanticism

Transatlanticism
   n. The state of being in a long-distance relationship with another person over the Atlantic Ocean, for example, with one participant living in the United States and the other living in the United Kingdom, along with the emotions that accompany such a state, such as the desire of physical intimacy, melancholy, and hope.


Thanks Death Cab/Urban Dictionary.

I know it's a little lame to start with a definition, but I'm not sure that there is another word to describe how I'm going to be feeling this summer...but I'll get back to that in a sec.

In 12 hours I will be popping the cap off of my pen to start my last final of Freshman year. Afterwards, it's packing time, and it is incredibly bittersweet. My first year of college is over and I never really expected to have this place become my second home. It's not just a few acres of land with wood, brick, and steel on top of it, and the friends I've made aren't just acquaintances that I'll forget the moment I leave. They're like family, and being hours away from them for a few months is going to suck.

That's where Transatlanticism comes in. Even though we all live in the same country, it's going to feel like there's a body of water separating us. Now that might sound a little over dramatic, but it's really not. After spending months with the same people every day, you get used to having them around. You grow to love their ridiculous laugh, the insanely over-used jokes that somehow become funnier each time you say them, or even the way their hair somehow gets all over you after sitting next to them for a couple of hours. Even with hundreds of miles between us, I know we'll stay close. We'll keep the relationships we built and hopefully they'll become stronger.

All of this might sound a little sad and a bit depressing, but I know that this summer is going to bring a lot of joy. We still have our hometowns to go back to, and with that brings friends we haven't seen in a while, places we haven't been to since we left, and new memories to be made. It's going to be great to be home, but I definitely cannot wait until Sophomore year and everything that will bring.





  "When the jets go up and out, will our hearts stay here?"
           - Say Anything




I certainly hope so, Max Bemis.*











*Lead singer of Say Anything, for those of you who are musically challenged.

You're The Wanker, If Anyone Is

Let me start by saying that I have never broken a bone. Ever. Maybe a couple of jammed fingers here and there but never a break, sprain, or fracture in sight. I was a little proud of the fact that this was the case, but alas, I will forever have to put down a finger whenever someone mentions it during Ten Fingers.

I fractured some small bone in my foot, and it's probably the lamest story ever. It usually goes like this:


"Nick?! What happened?"

"I fractured a bone in my foot."

"Shoot, that totally sucks. How'd it happen?"

"...Umm...Well...I slipped off a curb and landed on the side of my foot."

Laughter/Mocking/Shame Ensues




Usually people have cool stories. Saving a child from a burning building. Defending your girlfriend's honor. Base jumping. Shoot, sports injuries are fine too, but slipping off a curb is not in that cool story category, and I'll just have to live with that. As much as I hate that it happened, I can't really go back in time to fix it so I'll have to deal with the swollen, uncomfortableness that will be around for the next few weeks.

I'd like to be all excited and optimistic about the new opportunities that this could bring, but it's a little hard to do that when you're hobbling around on crutches all day.


Here's to hoping I don't punch small children out of rage.


^Joke...I'm not actually that mad.

Those To Come

Hmm...

19 years.

It's really not that much time.

A third grader can count to 19.
They pride themselves on it too. Go ahead, ask a third grader to count to 19 and see what happens. They'll just scoff in your general direction as they count at some ridiculous speed, like it's impressive or something.








Stupid third graders.

Who do they think they are?

Goodbye Young Tutor, You've Now Outgrown Me

"Shoot there's a bird in the road."
"It's not moving!"
"Move, bird!"

The bird didn't move...



I killed a bird today. With a vehicle. On accident, I swear!
It just stared at me. It stood its ground and played a game of chicken that didn't turn out well for him.
Oops.

Today was pretty much just one huge driving escapade. With a concert/food thrown in the middle. We spent hours driving through Sketchville, hoping to find the place we needed to go, and ultimately found our destination (USC) after 3 hours of driving around. If I was alone, I definitely wouldn't have made it.

Friends are probably the greatest gift to man. Even when I thought I was going to explode with frustration and anger, my friends kept me laughing and made me realize that everything is better when you have a little company. They kept me relatively calm. Granted, there may have been a few curse words that snuck past my lips, but at least it wasn't Cussfest 2010 up in there.

I'll be home in two weeks. Away from these people that make the longest detour of your life pretty worth it. I'm not looking forward to packing everything up and heading home, but I know that the relationships I've made are going to stick, and I can't wait for our next road trip.

Maybe with a little less of the whole, "Getting lost a million times" thing though.

Life in Technicolor

Oh man...

Star Wars.


If you didn't think happy, awesome, force-powered thoughts when you read that, please fix whatever is wrong with you before continuing.

If there is one thing that defined my childhood, it was most likely Star Wars. How can you not be obsessed with it? It's like the epitome of everything you've ever wanted.

Lightsabers.
The Force.
Princess Leia (maybe not anymore...she's old now).
Exploding Death Stars.

I spent the last few days watching these great films and realized that I get super defensive of them. Example:

Stupid person: "Wow there's no way Darth Vader would die by just getting his hand cut off."
Me: "Holy crap, did you also see the insane amount of lightening that just went into his body??"
Stupid person: "There's no way that could kill him."
Me: "Okay Matt Ellison, get the eff out of this room if you're just gonna criticize the movie the whole time."

Yeah, I'm not okay with the whole "kicking Nick's childhood in the face" thing. It's like when people make fun of your dead dog you had as a kid. You don't do it.

"Hey remember that one time you had that awesome dog that you absolutely loved? And then do you remember when it died?"

Oops. Mistake. That's not supposed to happen.

Such Great Heights

Movies are phenomenal. If there is one thing that I am addicted to, it's film.

Whenever I see a fantastic movie that I love I get that excited/shakey feeling that I mentioned in an earlier write (read it!).

It's been a while since a movie has made me genuinely feel that, but I felt it tonight after watching Garden State. It's an awesome movie. If you haven't seen it, stop reading this right now and go watch it because it'll change your life (maybe not, but it's still great).

The second the credits rolled I was anxious for more.

It gave me hope.

Hope that I'll find something awesome and hold onto it. Not just in the girl area, but with life in general. I'm not even close to knowing what I want to do with my future. I might say I know, but I just have so many things running through my mind that it's hard to just pick one thing to do and run with it. I am constantly thinking and stressing about what I am gonna do with my future and I realized that I just have to chill and take life as it comes. Zach Braff's character, Andrew, is constantly stressing and kind of in a state of depression at the beginning of the movie. His development into a guy that knows what he wants and has hope for himself is great. He wants to start doing something unique and get away from his old life.

I may not know what I'm going to be doing or who I'm going to be with a few years down the road, but I have hope that I'll find that something that makes the wait worth it.

Pink Bullets

Why is it that whenever I want to go to bed, my roommates tend to be the loudest?

It's 2 in the morning?
Okay cool I'll just turn my hip-hop music up to eleven.

False.
Stop that.

I would prefer not to hear Usher rhyming about all of his hoes in the wee hours of the morning. Before I sleep, I usually like to listen to something chill.
Maybe some Damien Rice.
The Album Leaf is always a perfect choice for some pre-rem sleeping.
Local Natives anyone?

But come on...
Who wants to listen to Drake talk about making it big while also dropping some Degrassi references before they sleep? And no thank you, Andre Nickatina, I will not smoke that blunt or get down with some honeys. I just want the pumping bass to quiet down a little so my ears can stop bleeding.



Oh man...the mods cannot come faster.

The Good Times Are Killing Me

Oh man...

A lot of things happened this weekend that I'm not sure have really processed yet.

It began with being a Ninja Turtle and somehow evolved into the scariest situation I've ever been in involving strangers with masks.

That is my dream AND my worst nightmare all in one day.

Yikes.

The nightmare part ended up being some prank that totally worked, but camping might be ruined for me. I'm still not entirely sure.

Even though 17 guys were scared out of their minds, we ended up being drawn closer together, which was kind of the point of the whole thing. That's the thing about living in Smith. We do the craziest stuff and end up with the coolest stories/moments. We bond through near death experiences, masked men, dark tunnels, and never-ending mountains.

It may sound unappealing, but trust me, it's worth it.

Colly Strings

It's interesting how the last few days of Spring Break have been the best.

They've been filled with new experiences, good food, and new friends, which makes me kind of not want to go back to school.

But only kind of.

As much as I love people here and love being in this area, I really do love school a lot. More? I'm not sure, but I know that after a week of being away from friends, I'm ready to be back. I'm ready to be back in a hall full of kind of (really) vulgar men, I'm ready to wake up to the sound of a crazy black man yelling about absolutely nothing, and I'm ready to sleep in a room that was built a little too long ago.

That place has become home for me. It's become a place of comfort. It may not be physically comfortable sometimes, but I love it.


Until actual school starts.


Then I might just hate it and transfer.


Just kidding.

I Want To Know Your Plans

The above title is not anything creepy/stalkerish. It's just a great song by Say Anything.



I didn't think watching an episode of Supernatural could give me any deep thoughts or interesting ideas, but surprises are always welcome.

They showed heaven in tonight's episode and it kind of got me thinking about what heaven actually could be. Yeah, it's gonna be fantastic and like nothing we can even fathom, but what if heaven was a place where we re-lived our happiest memories? What if it was a place where we could dream up anything, or be with anyone we wanted?

It was described as Disneyland on the show. A bunch of different areas, all connected, that lead to the Magic Kingdom.

For some people that could mean living in your favorite childhood house, and maybe for others it's hanging out with Doc Holliday for eternity.

Or maybe that's just Kelli Johnson

Let's Make This Moment A Crime

It's 1:30 A.M. and honestly...I've been trying to write this thing all day.

I've stared at this white box, typing and then erasing words, not really finding the right thing to say.

And then I realized that this is a blog. It's not some BS'd college essay that needs to be stressed over, peer-edited, and marked with red ink. I don't have to over-analyze it like I do everything else. I can start typing and let my mind kind of wander off and find a cool place to settle down.

It's a little like Where the Wild Things Are. My mind can just go crazy and I can think up whatever I want to.

I know I'm not some little kid who gets sent to his room without supper and dreams of a land with misshapen creatures, but everyone needs a place for their imagination to run wild.

Sweet Disposition

Spring Break.

When you think about spring break what comes to your mind?

Usually sun.

If you didn't think sun...stop it.


I woke up this morning expecting to feel the warmth of the sun's rays on my face. Instead, the world said, "F you Nick," and I woke to dark, ominous, buzz-killing clouds. Oops.

I guess that's what I get for living in northern California. Not that I hate it at all up here, it's great. But I would like to get some sunshine every once in a while.

It was in the middle of my hatred for everything cloudy that I realized that we are hugely dependent on our expectations. We expect something to be awesome so we're in a great mood, stoked for the awesomeness to come, or we expect something to suck so we immediately hate life and have a terrible day because we don't want whatever this thing is to come about so we can hate life even more. Sometimes (usually) the actual outcome surprises us and the opposite happens. Awesomeness turns to awfulness and vice-versa.

I'm not sure why everything turns out the opposite of how you expect them to go, but most people's solution is just to expect the worst. If you expect the worst you can't get let down. Things could go great and thats awesome, but if things go bad you can just brush it off because you expected that anyway.

I tend to hate that point of view because then you're never really excited for anything. I like expecting things to go well. A lot of the time that means I get disappointed, but that's life I guess. I look forward to a lot of things and have high expectations because when things go right it's a great feeling.

It's kinda cool when you expect a good outcome and then the actual thing blows your expectations out of the water.

Maybe I just have too much hope in life.

Oh well.

I like it.

One Man Wrecking Machine

Comics are huge for me.

I love them, and if you get me talking about them, I probably won't shut up for a while.

So to avoid that problem, I'm just gonna show you an AWESOME trailer for Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Based off a comic, which I haven't read yet, but will definitely read soon.

Okay...how frickin awesome does that look?

If you're not stoked...

I'll be a little pissed

I Think You're a Contra

Story time.

Three months ago, I was packing to come back to school from winter break. Everything was in my suitcase, ready to go.

I get back to school and put everything away and notice that I have a substantially less amount of socks in my drawer, so I buy new ones.

Cut to now, when I am packing to go back home for spring break. Oh hey look...

My "lost" socks were in my suitcase the whole time...

Shoooot...

Also...vampire weekend is kind of becoming an addiction

We Will Become Silhouettes

I realized listening to The Postal Service gets me in a writing mood...

I'm excited for a lot of things:

1. Spring Break

2. Mods

3. Comic-Con

By a lot, I mean three...mostly because my mind suddenly went blank when I scrambled to think of things that I was excited for...

But anyways. Excitement is a fun thing. I like the feeling you get when you're completely stoked for something to happen and your body kind of shakes a little. Not in an epileptic way or anything (that would suck), but just in a way where you absolutely cannot wait for something. It makes me feel like a little kid again. In a lot of ways I'm still a little kid. I still get excited when I'm anywhere near Disneyland, comic books are like gold to me, and sometimes I think girls really do have cooties.

I'll be home in two days, and I'm starting to get giddy.

Food will actually be good there.

Excitement brings out the kid in us. And I loved being a kid.

Ratatat

I finally decided to start one of these...

It's almost 2 A.M. and I will most likely regret this when my alarm goes off in about 6 hours but maybe it'll be worth it.

I've been thinking about love a lot lately. How it can suck. How it can suddenly disappear. How sometimes the realization that it's there is incredibly surprising, scary, and a little awesome at the same time. But mostly how excited I am to feel it. I went to a wedding a few months ago and I was so amazed by how people love each other so much that they are willing to commit to one another forever. Granted, it doesn't last a lot of the time...but I'm excited for the ones that do. It's weird that in a world so full of the worst kind of stuff, love is still there. It drives people. It drives me. It makes me have hope that I'll find something awesome eventually. Something that won't crash and burn.

First write and it got a little deep...hah, I guess that's what happens at 2 in the morning.

"Hope grows in a dump."

- Michael Scott