Being alone while talking to the world

That's what I love about blogging. I get to express myself to the entire world, and no one ever reads it. There is no more perfect way to clear your thoughts.

But, moving on....







I know them. I went to high school with Kimber (the girl. And I didn't really go to high school with her. But we had some classes together). I worked with Levi after high school at the trailer factory in La Grande. I don't think either of them ever left the valley they grew up in. They just kind of stayed there...and now they seem to be some form of married with a baby. In fact, if you think about it, most of the people who stayed around in La Grande ended up married pretty quickly. They all have some sort of job and life and......

...then there's me. I left the valley the day I graduated high school. Minus a few short months before my mission, I have spent my life after high school in metropolitan areas. I am attending a large university. I am surrounded by a 38,000 people my age. I often revel in the fact that I can go anywhere in the city of Provo and find a pretty girl. And yet, my life is in shambles compared to them. Watch. I'll prove it:

La Grandians
Married
Employed
Children
Near family
College degree (at least I think Kimber does)
Dan
Hasn't been on a date in ages
Not
None
8 hours away
Failing out of college

See? I think most of these comparisons are exclusive to me though. If we were to compare to the other people who I know that started in the valley with the rest of us, the only one that really seems to hold true across the board is the married/unmarried one. Those who stay in the small town get married (on average) sooner than those of us who leave. Here is my theory about that.

In a small town, there aren't a lot of people. That's what makes it small. So, in these small towns people know they don't have a lot of options for getting hitched. So they don't look that hard. All this not looking leads to what I call, "ending up" together. They don't plan it. It just happens. After a little time, people just end up together, out of lack of options and boredom with dating. In a place like Provo, where I am surrounded by beautiful girls and boys, this does not happen. People always move on to the next one. Or in my case, just stay out of the game because the math says that the girl you are asking out won't marry you. So....which is better? Staying in the small town? Living the city life? You can't answer that question just based on this one dilemma, but I thought I'd bring it up. That being said, I am off to build a super hero.

I didn't want to go to Nova Scotia

I have just returned from an Aquabats concert. I can say, without reservation, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. I love the Aquabats!!! Yes, the Bat Commander is getting older. Yes, Jaime the Robot is equally old. But they still put on some kind of wonderful show. They were awesome. I will say, however, that the crowd made me a bit thoughtful. You know how I get. All deep and philosophical and stuff. I mean, what goes on in a young girls life that she shaves her head and is a lesbian before she's even a junior in high school? Why is it that the punk rock crowd feels like they need to glue their hair into liberty spikes and giant mohawks? I just don't get it. Even more perplexing was the fellow with the tiny pants. I am not going to hyperbolate even a little. His pants were really so small that their full length did not reach from his waist to his ankles. Best they could do was ankle to lower cheek. But you gotta respect the pants. At least they tried. But anyway.....the concert. I had cake thrown at me (I wiped the frosting from my head off on the guy in front of me), I am now covered in sweat not entirely of my own make, and a small young attractive lesbian managed to ska dance her flailing arm in such a manner as to make her hand rather familiar with the captain and his boys. Bad luck, that...
We finished the evening with a "bachelor party" for Mr Jason Burr, which consisted entirely of telling the waitress he was getting married. But our eating out also gave me another opportunity to showcase my most unique (and possibly only) talent. Our waitress ended up spending a solid hour or more just sitting at the table talking to us. I love when that happens. It makes me feel like maybe, I'm not an asshole. Maybe I'm actually a nice guy. She said I was, so I must be, right? But really...Kara, you missed out. I tried to take a video, but my phone sent the video out into nothing and it no longer exists anywhere. But here are some pictures to make you all jealous.

Bane's Grave

It seems like whenever I get my hopes up, something comes along to bring them promptly back down. I feel like this happens to most people. Its sort of one of the themes of life. And yet, we continue to get our hopes up. Why, just today, my hopes were brought low and made dusty. And in this moment right now, I am getting them back up again. Why? Because that's what we do. It is part of being human, I imagine. Its definitely part of being happy.

Next thought:

Yesterday I went riding around BYU campus with Matt. I also had the chance to talk with my friend Susanna. And I taught Linden to shoot a handgun. What did I learn from these pastimes? I learned that Matt is a good man, and a great friend. I learned that Susanna is one of those rare friends with whom you can talk both small and deep. I learned that I am in love with Linden's serene beauty. I learned that I am trying very hard to avoid buckling down to get things done. I learned the value of not looking for trouble. I learned that I love bbq chicken pizza. I learned that I can shoot accurately at 20 yards. I learned. I learned. So, all considered, it was a pretty successful day. For a successful tomorrow, I need only apply those lessons.

Why the rambling? Follow this link. Listen to the song. It accurately portrays my state at the time of writing.

http://www.amazon.com/Banes-Grave/dp/B0010TDFYI

Cascade of Light

Last night, Matt, Linden and I decided to go hiking. We hiked Stewart falls because it is easy, short, and it was night. It could not have been a more perfect night for hiking. A light breeze...a full moon....warm.....perfect. On the walk back, I stopped several times, totally at random, just to stand still and enjoy the perfection. At the middle of the hike, when we were at the falls, we enjoyed some sitting time. Actually, Linden and Matt fell asleep, and I argued with the voices in my head. They are so negative all the time. "Give up this" "Forget about that" "You're no good" "No one likes you" So negative....All this arguing brought me to a conclusion. Giving up, resigning yourself, or just 'accepting' something about your life that you don't like is the easy way out. Its much easier to just say, "I have come to terms with the fact that I'll never have a third leg, and I'm okay with it," than to go out and do what it takes to get that third leg. Sometimes, though, there really is nothing more you can do. Your only option is to stay the course and patiently hope you get what you are hoping for.

A Dark Y and a Flashlight

Two things:

1) I seem to be addicted to tearing myself down. I realized this walking down the darker streets of Provo on what might well be a perfect summer night. I seem to do some pretty good thinking when I'm outside at night. I should make it a habit.

2) For the last week or so, I have felt perpetually like I was suffocating. (I spelled that word hearing Brian Regan say it in my head) I don't mean that metaphorically, like "I'm suffocating under the pressure to perform." I mean it like you mean it when your ex is holding a pillow over your head and you wake up screaming in your head, "OH MY GOSH I'M SUFFOCATING!!" There seems to be a non-stop feeling of not enough air in my lungs, or the air I am putting there just doesn't seem to be getting very good oxygen mileage. If any of you know any good Ghost Busters, send them my way. I may have work for them.