Well, I just returned from another evening of torture, I mean playing basketball, at LIFETIME Fitness. I do not use the word torture in a physical sense (though a fat guy playing full court ball is not easy on the body), rather in a mental sense. If I am going to be specific, I think maybe it is more of a masochism because no one is inflicting mental anguish on me; I am simply doing it to myself.
You see, in my head I play ball like I did when I was in high school. My mind makes crisp passes to my teammates, boxes out for monster rebounds, posts up strong in the paint, even drives to the hoop for the occasional dunk. In my head, I am a force to be reckoned with.
But then I get the ball in my hands and, for some reason, my brain disconnects completely from my brain stem. The grandiose images of me implementing my “skills” come face-to-face with the harsh reality that even the nerve endings in my body have become fat and lazy.
My brain tells my body, “There’s Darius streaking to the hoop. Let’s zip a pass to him and give him an assist!” but my nerve endings only receive, “There’s Darius streaking. Wouldn’t that be funny if he really was streaking? Wonder what’s on CSI tonight?”
By that time, someone has stripped the ball from me and made a layup on the other end of the court. Darius is looking at me like I should probably be in sculpting Play-Dough snowmen with the kids in daycare. All I can do is say, “Sorry man, my brain stem is not fully connected to my brain.” That usually doesn’t inspire much confidence in my teammates. They don’t pass me the ball much after that.
As you can see, the mental anguish is quite a hurdle for me. I’m going to keep at it though. One of these days I’m going to whip the ball to Big D and he’s going to soar in for a layup, and when he turns to head back down court, he’s going to point to me and say, “Nice pass Big Dawg.”
Then I will know that my brain stem is making a comeback.
I am just now wrapping up one of the most relaxing and enjoyable days that I have had in months. Today I had the chance to spend the entire day with Heidi — an event that has become almost completely foreign to me. With our differing work schedules, we have almost completely forgotten what it is like to have a full day alone. I am off on Fridays — she works. She is off on weekends — I work. She is still on her Christmas break (she is a teacher) and I stayed at work yesterday until 10:00 to ensure that I could actually take today off.
I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is for me to spend time with my wife. She is so fun to be with and she completely eliminates any stress or frustration that I feel. She helps me to regenerate strength and a positive attitude, just by being near me. We didn’t do anything particularly eventful today, we just had a whole day to ourselves. No work. No friends. No family. No church. No plans. Just us.
We slept in until 9:00. We drank our coffee in bed and played Mario Bros. on our new Nintendo DS (thanks Dad). We ate a late lunch at Panda Express. We got Jamba Juice for dessert. We went Christmas shopping (we are having a late Christmas with her family on Sunday). We took the long route home from the mall and just talked. We got home and watched 2 movies. We ordered Papa John’s. We drank hot chocolate.
To some, this may seem like a wasted day.
For me, this was my kind of Friday.
I just got finished watching the last of the Fiesta Bowl between Boise State and Oklahoma University. I am not tied to either of these teams in any way and I didn’t watch much of the game, but I was floored by the way Boise State played at the end. Seeing a game come down to the wire is entertaining enough, but watching an underdog team win using a very tricksy playbook is absolutely amazing.
Congratulations Boise State. You earned it.
I just returned from experiencing an afternoon tea at the Grand America Hotel in downtown Salt Lake City. I’m sure that many of you manly-men might wonder why another guy would ever consider being within 100 yards of an afternoon tea, but it was really enjoyable.
This place is a 5-star hotel and is incredible. We (me, Heidi, my sister Erin, her husband Jared, and my mom) sat just off the main lobby where we were served finger sandwiches, scones, desserts, and of course tea. I chose a white tea, which I have never heard of before. It was great — had a bit of a spicy, peppery flavor. Very unique taste.
While we sipped and ate, we listened to a very gifted harpist playing music in the center of the room. What is most interesting is that the harpist was Elizabeth Smart. You may remember a few years ago that she was kidnapped from her Utah home and forced to wander around the west in a disguise as one of the wives of some very bizarre self-proclaimed prophet/savior/messiah. She was rescued about a year later — something that almost nobody could have predicted.
While listening to her play her harp beautifully, I began to feel bad for her situation. Here she was playing elegant music in front of people who recognize her and whisper comments to the people around them about what had happened to her. I’m sure that all the people who make comments do not mean to be rude or hurtful or judge her about anything, but I imagine that she feels a tremendous burden while she sits in front of people in such a public setting.
I imagine that each time she makes eye-contact with someone she wonders if they are thinking or talking about what had happened to her. Replaying bad memories on your own is problem enough, but I would guess that being reminded of your past in the eyes of a perfect stranger has to be even more difficult. I pray that she is able to live her life without the past constantly haunting her.
All things aside, she is an amazingly capable harpist and it was a pleasure to hear her play.
I just learned of a very interesting online sweepstakes — one that I would absolutely LOVE to win. If you go to www.disneypirates.com, you can enter a drawing to have your likeness added to the next ride update of Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland. Added as in have a new animatronics character that looks like you placed in the ride.
Wouldn’t that be the most amazing thing — to have thousands of people a day, from all corners of the globe, float slowly by your pillaging likeness? To remind friends and family to watch for you singing, “Drink up me hearties, yo ho!” while your new buddies dip the mayor into the well (“Don’t tell heeem Carlos. Don’t be cheeekin”.) Or better yet, what if you got to sail by and see yourself place a bid at the wench auction to have that redhead as your bride (We want the redhead!)? That would be awesome.
In addition to the chance of becoming a part of Disney history, the winner will also get:
A 3 day/2 night trip for four to Glendale, California where all members of the party 16 or older will receive a tour of Walt Disney Imagineering, the winner will sit with an Imagineer to do the artwork necessary, and the party will have lunch with an Imagineer.
A 3 day/2 night trip for four to Disneyland, including the Pirates of the Caribbean suite at the Disneyland Hotel, use of a VIP tour guide at the park, park hopper tickets, covered meals (including one lunch at Blue Bayou), and a $100 gift card for buying merchandise.
I am so winning that.
My amazingly great friend from college, Jason M. Hammond, recently participated in a stand-up comedy program for Disneyland cast members who had, at one time or another, worked as skippers on the world famous Jungle Cruise. This is a hilarious routine and I wanted to share it with you.
Please pardon all the filthy language (just kidding).
Hilarious Jay, just hilarious.
Thanks to all of you who took the time to not only read my blog, but also offer up encouraging words to me. I really debated on whether I should post my last entry after I wrote it because I knew even at the time that I was being more emotionally-driven than clear-headed-driven (amazing, a three-hyphen word!). I decided, though, that writing down and saving feelings is rarely a bad thing — even if they are the sort of feelings that are self-centered and melancholy.
What is interesting for me, is being in a good mood and going back and reading something that was written when I was in a depressed mood. I am not typically the sort of person who feels down too often. Generally, I am happy — and that happiness is 100% genuine. I am a blessed person and I know that I get much more than I deserve from life. Sometimes my feelings get the best of me.
Feelings are funny things. In today’s world, we always hear about how valuable our feelings are and how someone’s feelings should always be validated, and never criticized. That is a load of stinky poo-dung.
I find that most of the time, feelings only serve to distort reality and promote a self-centric view of the world. I generally do not like to be around people who are always talking about their feelings because all they talk about is themselves and blame everyone else (or just life in general) for picking on poor little them.
You know these people — they are the ones at your workplace who shuffle in each day with a pathetic Bassett Hound look on their faces. When you ask them, “How’s it going?” they just sigh their heavy sighs and say something that corners you into asking them more questions out of guilt because you don’t want to be known as the heartless guy who doesn’t validate the feelings of the guy in the next cubicle/classroom/office/urinal over. These people are draining.
Now having said that, please know that I do not mind the occasional rough day or the occasional venting of feelings, which is what I believe that I did. By writing my feelings out, I got a chance (as did a handful of other people in my life) to see how obnoxiously selfish my feelings were, and I was able to get them out of my system within a few days.
It felt good to vent my feelings, but I’m over them now.
Today, I am feeling a little down.
I feel like my kindness is not appreciated by those to whom I give it.
I feel like my potential is never recognized.
I feel like I am a terrible communicator.
I feel like no one takes me seriously.
I feel like I am a weak leader.
I feel like I can’t find my footing in life.
I feel like I’m broken.
I feel like no one cares about my thoughts.
I feel like I am alone.
I feel like no one is going to read this.
I feel like others get recognition for every little thing, but I get none for big things.
During my high school and college days, I struggled with my self-esteem. This is certainly not something that anyone is surprised at because everyone deals with it at some time in his life. The thing with me, however, is that one day I just stopped not-believing in myself. To state it more clearly, I started believing in myself.
In my change of heart, I never became arrogant — I just decided that in order to lead a meaningful life, I needed to be more confident in who I am. I know God made me for a positive reason and I didn’t want to cheapen that. It irritated me that I always looked at what I was not compared to so-and-so and that others felt compelled to build me up — not because I deserved it, but because they didn’t want to be around a mopey person. I decided to stop comparing myself to others and focus on my abilities. And, for the most part, it has worked.
On occasions, like today for example, I get those old feelings creeping back into my mind. Sometimes I wonder if I bet on a lame horse when I decided to be more confident in myself. Its not like I am saying that I am worthless or that my life is meaningless; I just wonder sometimes how much worth I truly have or if my life has much meaning on the whole.
How important am I really to the people in my life? Some days, I just feel like I’m not at all.
Hey, check out this video of our dog Bella on TV.
The recent tragic news of the senseless and evil murder of Amish schoolgirls in Nickel Mines, PA has shoved the Amish community into the media spotlight again. It seems like any news coverage of any group of people, especially the Amish, must have the prerequisite of being saturated with sensationalism before it is broadcast. This is exactly what I’d imagine they don’t want to happen.
While I understand that news stations are “required” to cover this breaking story because tragedy is considered newsworthy, I equally understand the Amish not wanting the “outside world” pointing their little cameras at every man in a wide-brimmed hat and every horse-drawn carriage they see. I think the peculiarity of the Amish community adds to the hype in immeasurable ways.
How peculiar to live in a society that holds fast to tradition and simplicity. How peculiar to live a life without technological advances. How peculiar that their families and their local church is held in such high regard, with such respect.
Peculiar? On the surface perhaps, but how many of us on some days would consider trading our cell phones, laptops, 51″ widescreen televisions, daily commutes, tensions at work, and cookie-cutter homes for the life they live?
Can you imagine a life where you work the soil for a living? Where you wake up with the sun to tend to your animals and acres upon acres of fertile farmland? Where if you need a barn built, the entire community raises it for you in a matter of days? Where the local church and religious devotion are central to your everyday life? Where, if your daughter is senselessly murdered in school, you have an entire community to join you in mourning her loss?
We sometimes scoff at their simplicity, but oftentimes our complexity is what deserves the scoffing. Are we really better off in our HOA-regulated, hedonistic, technologically advanced lives than they are in their tightly-knit, community focused, blood, sweat, and tears life?
Sometimes I’m not so sure.
