It’s just another day in paradise here in our nation’s fair capitol. The last few weeks have got me thinking. DC is a pretty transient city all things considered; people come and people go. Congress is elected and reelected, administrations are changed over, contracts begin and end, and the tides of people ebb and flow. Three good friends are leaving soon and I guess I had not been here long enough to experience this turnover of people here. I never truly expected to be in DC after school was finished, most likely because I never really had a plan for afterwards. I realize now how foolish that really was of me in the end. So now, as I plan to go back to school to further my education, I can take stock of what undergrad was and vow to be a better student this time around, at least I hope so.
So what happens after DC for everyone else? They go back home, back to their respective countries and states, back to their old friends and extended families. They move on to bigger and better positions elsewhere in the country. They are reassigned by the military or deployed to various theatres of operation. They might simply get tired of the pretentious attitude that pervades the city as well. If they are from the North, they may get tired of what they call “the South” and vice versa for all of us from the real South. There are multitudes of reasons and motivations for moving away from this place, but honestly, I have not reached my limits here yet. I have been playing a little game with myself lately when running. Instead of running a designed trail or route, I pick a building or monument and run to it. So one day, I might run to the Lincoln memorial, while the next my goal is to go throw a rock in the Potomac River and then run back home up the hills through Georgetown. There are embassy parties and special interests events for anything you could possibly be interested in. There are all of the Smithsonian museums that not only are great institutions, they are also free. DC is a great city, with a lot to offer. It might not be the final destination in life, but it sure does have a lot of road signs to point the way.
So now, as I sit here after 18 months of life in this part of the world, I feel a certain sense of satisfaction over what I have lost and gained. I still marvel at the Capitol building every time I walk by it. The hair on the back of my neck still stands straight up when I hear the National Anthem. I have lost my faith in the public education system in America. We are falling behind more and more, and we will reap the whirlwind someday on this. People think it is crazy that we are fighting over oil right now? Wait 10 more years when we are fighting over fresh water. You can live without oil; water? Not so much. Americans are among the most self-centered and pompous jerks in the world, but our country is still the greatest in the world.
I turned in my official petition to Naval Freemason Lodge #4. I have my official investigation this Thursday and I would be remiss to say that I am not a little nervous. I don’t know why, but I think it’s natural to feel that way about something that means so much. Many of the other brothers are fantastic people, and I should be humbly proud to be counted among their ranks. I find myself getting peeved a little when people claim that they know all about the brotherhood and then proceed to tell me about what “exactly” I am doing and whom I will be associating with. Whatever. Read a fucking book that wasn’t written by an idiot with an agenda or a sensationalist, and then make up your own ideas about something before you lecture me and claim to be my own personal soothsayer.
Sorry for that folks, every once in a while the anger bubbles to the surface in unexpected places. Speaking about unexpected places, I was out running a while ago and became terribly lost in the woods somewhere in Maryland. I was about to turn around and look for something familiar when I came into a clearing with a 30 foot tall statue of Lady Justice. Needless to say, I stopped dead in my tracks and asked one of my favorite rhetorical questions that you would say in the NATO phonetic alphabet as “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot”…I kept running and passed a dozen more statues before coming out of the woods into this old crazy looking complex with stone arches, beautiful old buildings crumbling from disuse, and unkempt gardens surrounding the area. I did some research and came to find out that it used to be an old seminary school which is now undergoing a restoration effort. It even has a large pagoda building on a lake further down the trail I was on! So that got me thinking. I wondered what other kinds of crazy stuff you can find in the areas around DC? What kinds of crazy tunnels and underground stuff can you find? I heard a story recently that they were doing some renovations in the basement of the Capitol building and saw some stone mortar that was newer than the original brick. They knocked down the wall to find a small room with nothing inside except a large stuffed horse. Like someone’s horse had died, and he had the thing stuffed and walled up in the basement room underneath the United States Capitol building!!! Someone, somewhere was rolling in their grave laughing. It inspired me to try and learn more of these crazy stories. So for now, I will try and make a foray into the world of urban adventuring. Updates to come. The whole point of this spiel is simple; there is nothing more glorious than insatiable human curiosity. If something captures your imagination, explore it!
As always,
Live Triumphantly.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The Glory Daze of Fillmore Revisited
Let me begin this installment with an affirmation. I love the South, Oxford, Ole Miss, the Grove, the Right Field Suds Club, Fillmore Avenue, and all those crazies who live there and spend their time there. And while I don’t understand why, I also love that Jacey continues to allow us to defile her home when we make our semi-annual visits to God’s country.
This trip was different. It was a tribute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country when you are around good people. It was a tribute to springtime in Oxford, which I figure to be one of the most beautiful places around. It was tribute to a Dane Cook sketch. It was a tribute to a bunch of old friends still meeting up to make a lot of noise in as many places as possible. It was a tribute to Natural Light. It was a tribute to the changing dynamic of our personal and professional lives as they come into collision with our former, less responsible selves. It was a tribute to the Beatles. It was a tribute to Rebel baseball on a glorious Saturday afternoon. It was a tribute to some old Rebel football greats. It was a tribute to some of the craziest and most interesting people I have had the privilege to know.
I honestly cannot recall how I could have possibly graduated while living on that street. It is frankly impossible to expect that any work will get done once you turn down that hill. However, most of us have done it and I even managed to successfully write a thesis while residing there. I guess all things are possible.
The weekend started off well enough except my leaving my phone in a taxi on the way to the airport. So that now makes my last three trips down to Oxford where I have lacked mobile communication. It’s an impressive streak. We got down and picked up our rental car and boomed for the O. Upon arrival, a quick yet nasty dinner at Sonic and we were off to Pearl Street for 2 for 1. I have to say that I do miss that place somewhat. Thursday nights always used to start off there for me and I think for the most part I would not even bother leaving. Back to Fillmore later on, where we did a pretty good job of getting waste face.
Friday morning was pretty fair and we got up and grabbed lunch at Ajax, which is a place that I miss very dearly as well. The day was spent running errands and picking up provisions and souvenirs. Friday night was pure insanity, highlighted by a great victory at Swayze Field. Parrish’s was attended and everyone got pretty blasted. Many funny parts from that evening including sitting on the outside couch with the Stevens’ and trying to open my eyes, and ultimately being unsuccessful…
Saturday was a glorious day. Bloomer and I set out for the Grove to set up the tent and then returned for some breakfast with Dylan, one of the five greatest rappers of all time. After picking up the rest of the crew, we hit the Grove, only to find that we were the only assholes drinking at 11:00am that day. We listened to Eli and P-Willie and then hung around until almost halftime before sauntering into the stadium. We stayed for about 10 minutes at most before deciding that McAllister’s was calling our names and the need to head out to Swayze was becoming stronger by the minute. I have only seen a baseball game like that once before, when we were playing Alabama one Grovebowl weekend a few years ago. It was crazy how many people made it out for the game. After much playing with the Cobra Kai security guards and running into Brad and Ben while relieving myself in the woods, much rejoicing and merriment was made at the game. We won again that day and there would be no recitation of “Casey at the Bat” that day. Afterwards, I cut a chunk out of my toe and sat outside for a bit. I was fortunate because when I saw Ben drive their drunk asses home, he stepped out of the car and immediately fell onto the ground. Brad, for his part, did a twirling dive into an azalea bush in the front yard, which is where he remained to finish the rest of his chicken-on-a-stick. That night got pretty hazy quickly and luckily for me, the John’s suggested to get some rest before we got into trouble that night. We basically elbowed most people out of the back room of Parrish’s (again) and were treated to E$ and Brent dancing up a storm (sometimes with each other) all over the back room. Many adult beverages were spilled and then the exodus back to the Fillmore club began.
Flying back on a cold Sunday was bittersweet. I know that my life so different now than it was when I lived there. There is something deeply enticing about glorious irresponsibility; something that which the Fillmore club deals in abundance. It has thus inspired me to create a top ten list of Fillmore memories. Without further adieu, here we go.
10. The Inaugural Fillmore Hills Golf & Country Club Invitational golf tournament. We had a trophy made and a gold jacket tailored. The first year saw several broken windows and golf clubs, but it saw even more broken spirits. I myself withdrew in the second round as I was already out of contention. The course map still hangs in the hallway for 1420.
9. The week that Doooooooooooooook came to visit.
8. Finding out at MC’s lake house in Alabama that Johnny Walker and I live two houses apart. Then he set my hand on fire because he is a bad, bad man.
7. Speaking of Johnny Walker, who can forget his stunt man night? Walking on hot coals and throwing himself through the backyard fence? That takes dedication. And 17 shots of tequila.
6. Hippodromo. Best house sport ever. Nothing beats riding a bike indoors. If I had my way, I would never walk indoors again. Except when your roommate gets overly zealous when you slip on beer and runs into the kitchen to viciously kick you whilst laying in a puddle of aforementioned beer. I will get him back for that if it’s the last things I do.
5. Beer Pong National Championship on graduation weekend. Nicole and I putting down all challengers until reaching the finals against our European neighbors, and then losing in the championship match because our team was like the 1972 Dolphins and undefeated; it sucked…
4. The practice of playing Playstation Jeopardy to determine house chores for the week. Thank you Mom for making me read a lot when I was young.
3. Ceesco/Chloe fights. Who says things like “Ceesco, you cannot come to my tennis matches?” I mean really? Hilarious.
2. Double Decker Block parties. Ending the hash at Fillmore. Sitting in JW’s truck bed and listening to Barry Gunther launch a bomb to beat MSU. The Sun glittering through the trees on a fair afternoon in early May cannot be beat.
1.Matt Shroble yelling at the party across the street that their party sucked. Best put down ever. This one you had to be there for.
Okay, maybe it isn’t in numerical order in terms of greatest/least experiences, but it’s a fair cross section of day-to-day activities at Fillmore. What a place. I miss it.
“Over the years, the parties have gotten bigger and bigger, but the theme remains the same: glorious irresponsibility for the night.”
Richard Branson
Live Triumphantly
This trip was different. It was a tribute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country when you are around good people. It was a tribute to springtime in Oxford, which I figure to be one of the most beautiful places around. It was tribute to a Dane Cook sketch. It was a tribute to a bunch of old friends still meeting up to make a lot of noise in as many places as possible. It was a tribute to Natural Light. It was a tribute to the changing dynamic of our personal and professional lives as they come into collision with our former, less responsible selves. It was a tribute to the Beatles. It was a tribute to Rebel baseball on a glorious Saturday afternoon. It was a tribute to some old Rebel football greats. It was a tribute to some of the craziest and most interesting people I have had the privilege to know.
I honestly cannot recall how I could have possibly graduated while living on that street. It is frankly impossible to expect that any work will get done once you turn down that hill. However, most of us have done it and I even managed to successfully write a thesis while residing there. I guess all things are possible.
The weekend started off well enough except my leaving my phone in a taxi on the way to the airport. So that now makes my last three trips down to Oxford where I have lacked mobile communication. It’s an impressive streak. We got down and picked up our rental car and boomed for the O. Upon arrival, a quick yet nasty dinner at Sonic and we were off to Pearl Street for 2 for 1. I have to say that I do miss that place somewhat. Thursday nights always used to start off there for me and I think for the most part I would not even bother leaving. Back to Fillmore later on, where we did a pretty good job of getting waste face.
Friday morning was pretty fair and we got up and grabbed lunch at Ajax, which is a place that I miss very dearly as well. The day was spent running errands and picking up provisions and souvenirs. Friday night was pure insanity, highlighted by a great victory at Swayze Field. Parrish’s was attended and everyone got pretty blasted. Many funny parts from that evening including sitting on the outside couch with the Stevens’ and trying to open my eyes, and ultimately being unsuccessful…
Saturday was a glorious day. Bloomer and I set out for the Grove to set up the tent and then returned for some breakfast with Dylan, one of the five greatest rappers of all time. After picking up the rest of the crew, we hit the Grove, only to find that we were the only assholes drinking at 11:00am that day. We listened to Eli and P-Willie and then hung around until almost halftime before sauntering into the stadium. We stayed for about 10 minutes at most before deciding that McAllister’s was calling our names and the need to head out to Swayze was becoming stronger by the minute. I have only seen a baseball game like that once before, when we were playing Alabama one Grovebowl weekend a few years ago. It was crazy how many people made it out for the game. After much playing with the Cobra Kai security guards and running into Brad and Ben while relieving myself in the woods, much rejoicing and merriment was made at the game. We won again that day and there would be no recitation of “Casey at the Bat” that day. Afterwards, I cut a chunk out of my toe and sat outside for a bit. I was fortunate because when I saw Ben drive their drunk asses home, he stepped out of the car and immediately fell onto the ground. Brad, for his part, did a twirling dive into an azalea bush in the front yard, which is where he remained to finish the rest of his chicken-on-a-stick. That night got pretty hazy quickly and luckily for me, the John’s suggested to get some rest before we got into trouble that night. We basically elbowed most people out of the back room of Parrish’s (again) and were treated to E$ and Brent dancing up a storm (sometimes with each other) all over the back room. Many adult beverages were spilled and then the exodus back to the Fillmore club began.
Flying back on a cold Sunday was bittersweet. I know that my life so different now than it was when I lived there. There is something deeply enticing about glorious irresponsibility; something that which the Fillmore club deals in abundance. It has thus inspired me to create a top ten list of Fillmore memories. Without further adieu, here we go.
10. The Inaugural Fillmore Hills Golf & Country Club Invitational golf tournament. We had a trophy made and a gold jacket tailored. The first year saw several broken windows and golf clubs, but it saw even more broken spirits. I myself withdrew in the second round as I was already out of contention. The course map still hangs in the hallway for 1420.
9. The week that Doooooooooooooook came to visit.
8. Finding out at MC’s lake house in Alabama that Johnny Walker and I live two houses apart. Then he set my hand on fire because he is a bad, bad man.
7. Speaking of Johnny Walker, who can forget his stunt man night? Walking on hot coals and throwing himself through the backyard fence? That takes dedication. And 17 shots of tequila.
6. Hippodromo. Best house sport ever. Nothing beats riding a bike indoors. If I had my way, I would never walk indoors again. Except when your roommate gets overly zealous when you slip on beer and runs into the kitchen to viciously kick you whilst laying in a puddle of aforementioned beer. I will get him back for that if it’s the last things I do.
5. Beer Pong National Championship on graduation weekend. Nicole and I putting down all challengers until reaching the finals against our European neighbors, and then losing in the championship match because our team was like the 1972 Dolphins and undefeated; it sucked…
4. The practice of playing Playstation Jeopardy to determine house chores for the week. Thank you Mom for making me read a lot when I was young.
3. Ceesco/Chloe fights. Who says things like “Ceesco, you cannot come to my tennis matches?” I mean really? Hilarious.
2. Double Decker Block parties. Ending the hash at Fillmore. Sitting in JW’s truck bed and listening to Barry Gunther launch a bomb to beat MSU. The Sun glittering through the trees on a fair afternoon in early May cannot be beat.
1.Matt Shroble yelling at the party across the street that their party sucked. Best put down ever. This one you had to be there for.
Okay, maybe it isn’t in numerical order in terms of greatest/least experiences, but it’s a fair cross section of day-to-day activities at Fillmore. What a place. I miss it.
“Over the years, the parties have gotten bigger and bigger, but the theme remains the same: glorious irresponsibility for the night.”
Richard Branson
Live Triumphantly
Thursday, April 10, 2008
per ardua ad astra
Ah, Spring.
Far and away my favorite time of year has arrived in DC. The cherry blossoms are in bloom and the fresh sunshine and rain of the year is starting to break through the DC winter. It makes me reminiscent of spring in the South, especially in Oxford. While I always enjoyed football season to the maximum, had you asked me from which term did you derive greater enjoyment, I would have always told you it was the spring semester. From lazing out in right field at Swayze, to soaking up the sun at Sardis or at spring fraternity party weekends; it was by far more laid back than the fall. There is something special about this time of year. When all the trees begin budding again and flowers are blooming, one cannot help but be inspired by the rebirth of the natural world around us. This is starting to sound pretty far out there, so I had better stop with the hippie nature kid stuff and get on with it. I realize that I have not posted on here in some time. I wish I had a valid excuse, but I would be untruthful if I said that I did. Turning 25 was a strange time for me. I spent about 3 weeks in rebellion over my lost youth and irresponsibility. I think I did a pretty good job of going crazy again like I was still an undergraduate. I look forward to doing it all over again down in Oxford this coming weekend. One of the yearly events of Oxford, and one that if uniquely fitting to Spring, the time of renewal; Spring Football. Not to mention that LSWho will be in town for baseball, but spring practice/training is the one time of year that every team in the land can be optimistic about something heading in the season. I think that Coach Nutt will do well at Ole Miss, and I can’t wait to see how the squad looks, though I know enough by now not to put much emphasis into the proceedings of the "game". Another excuse to hang out in the Grove though is more than welcome. It appears likely that the only game that I will be able to attend next year will be the Arkansas game in Fayetteville. I have always enjoyed my times in Fayetteville.Dave and I used to take a trip up that way a couple times a year and I can truthfully say that it's a pretty cool city and the campus looks great, even to those of us who have been spoiled by Oxford.
I guess here is the short version of life in the past 6 weeks or so:
Costa Rica was beautiful still, was a great trip, and except for attempting to drown while drunk surfing one night, was relatively uneventful. Back to work for a couple weeks until birthday weekend, which was psychotic. I spent two nights in utter oblivion and Jacqueline threw me a party. I never really liked celebrating my own birthday as it was never a big deal to me. I think this one struck me since people made it seem like it was a big deal. A quarter century of life. What have I done with it? Have I earned it? Made it worthwhile? What more could I do? What could I have not done? I don’t like to question myself or my decisions for better or for worse. I hated feeling skeptically introspective. So screw it.
After the party night, Jacqueline and I went to Shamrock fest. It was a good time and I am rather sure that we saw Paul Oakenfold spin that night. We caught a ride home with some random guy who is now in my phone as “chauffeur” since he told me that anytime I needed a ride in that part of the city, he would “drop his shit and come pick me up”. Cool guy. A little strange but cool.
Haven’t been out to hash very much lately, but things have gotten very busy on those days. I am set to turn in my official petition to the Naval Lodge #4 of Freemasons next week. My grandmother told me that she was interested in coming up when I got elevated to the first degree. That means a lot to me. She is getting quite old and travel is becoming difficult. It makes me wish that I had been a little older when my grandfather died. I was still very young and he seemed like the coolest guy. He told me that me was a made a better father, brother, and husband because of what he learned through Freemasonry. Above all, he said that he was a better man. I want to be able to say those same things to my grandchildren.
After that I switched projects in work, which may be good as I may be getting promoted in the next few weeks. I started doing some yoga in addition to hitting the gym and running. It feels good to go every now and again, and I have to say that it is quite challenging. Tuesday Night Drinking Club is pretty much responsible for all of my troubles in life. I cannot come in at 4 on Wednesday mornings and expect to be of much use the next day. Our apartment is looking really nice. We recently added another bookcase and a dinette set. It feels strange to live so domestically, but its pretty nice as well. I cook us nice dinners with lots of veggies and we sit and listen to music while eating. Then we have dessert of fruit and yogurt usually and relax the rest of the night. I realize that it isn’t the most exciting thing to do, and especially not the coolest thing to write about, but I find myself amazed at this whole process that we undergo to grow up. Who says we have to be civilized to be successful? I got my last promo after the last trip to Oxford when we got in at 5:30am when I had the interview at 9:00am. I know that at some point, I will not be able to shoot from the hip when I go into important meetings and presentations, but will I ultimately have to fail to learn this? Probably. If there is one thing I have learned about myself, it’s that I will push until pushed back. I always coasted through school and rarely even bought my books for honors classes! Why would I do that? I have no explanation. I made decent grades and made sure that my education did not get in the way of my college experience. But now, as I think about going back to school this year, I realize that I never learned how to be a good student. I learned how to get away with a gross imbalance of work and play. I was supposed to take classes in history, culture, language, and political science and come away with a thorough understanding of regional historiographies. I might have the big picture, but by no means would I call it thorough. I drank Portuguese wine to get ready for my Portuguese language proficiency interview and God knows what happened to me before my Spanish exam. Yet, I passed. This is one thing that I think is frustrating about my college career. I excelled in very little, but performed averagely very often. I do not think myself average. But then again, if that is what I consistently submitted, how can I argue with the evidence?
Alright, that’s quite of enough berating myself today. I feel better. I just sometimes feel that although things are going very well for me right now, to what end I am traveling towards? Where am I going with all this? I moved to DC on a whim and have done nothing but roll 7’s since I arrived. At what point do I have to finally get serious?
Well this was nothing but serious ramblings. So I promise that for the next (and hopefully in the near future) installment, I will post the top quotes and strange experiences from O-town. Take care all.
Live triumphantly.
Far and away my favorite time of year has arrived in DC. The cherry blossoms are in bloom and the fresh sunshine and rain of the year is starting to break through the DC winter. It makes me reminiscent of spring in the South, especially in Oxford. While I always enjoyed football season to the maximum, had you asked me from which term did you derive greater enjoyment, I would have always told you it was the spring semester. From lazing out in right field at Swayze, to soaking up the sun at Sardis or at spring fraternity party weekends; it was by far more laid back than the fall. There is something special about this time of year. When all the trees begin budding again and flowers are blooming, one cannot help but be inspired by the rebirth of the natural world around us. This is starting to sound pretty far out there, so I had better stop with the hippie nature kid stuff and get on with it. I realize that I have not posted on here in some time. I wish I had a valid excuse, but I would be untruthful if I said that I did. Turning 25 was a strange time for me. I spent about 3 weeks in rebellion over my lost youth and irresponsibility. I think I did a pretty good job of going crazy again like I was still an undergraduate. I look forward to doing it all over again down in Oxford this coming weekend. One of the yearly events of Oxford, and one that if uniquely fitting to Spring, the time of renewal; Spring Football. Not to mention that LSWho will be in town for baseball, but spring practice/training is the one time of year that every team in the land can be optimistic about something heading in the season. I think that Coach Nutt will do well at Ole Miss, and I can’t wait to see how the squad looks, though I know enough by now not to put much emphasis into the proceedings of the "game". Another excuse to hang out in the Grove though is more than welcome. It appears likely that the only game that I will be able to attend next year will be the Arkansas game in Fayetteville. I have always enjoyed my times in Fayetteville.Dave and I used to take a trip up that way a couple times a year and I can truthfully say that it's a pretty cool city and the campus looks great, even to those of us who have been spoiled by Oxford.
I guess here is the short version of life in the past 6 weeks or so:
Costa Rica was beautiful still, was a great trip, and except for attempting to drown while drunk surfing one night, was relatively uneventful. Back to work for a couple weeks until birthday weekend, which was psychotic. I spent two nights in utter oblivion and Jacqueline threw me a party. I never really liked celebrating my own birthday as it was never a big deal to me. I think this one struck me since people made it seem like it was a big deal. A quarter century of life. What have I done with it? Have I earned it? Made it worthwhile? What more could I do? What could I have not done? I don’t like to question myself or my decisions for better or for worse. I hated feeling skeptically introspective. So screw it.
After the party night, Jacqueline and I went to Shamrock fest. It was a good time and I am rather sure that we saw Paul Oakenfold spin that night. We caught a ride home with some random guy who is now in my phone as “chauffeur” since he told me that anytime I needed a ride in that part of the city, he would “drop his shit and come pick me up”. Cool guy. A little strange but cool.
Haven’t been out to hash very much lately, but things have gotten very busy on those days. I am set to turn in my official petition to the Naval Lodge #4 of Freemasons next week. My grandmother told me that she was interested in coming up when I got elevated to the first degree. That means a lot to me. She is getting quite old and travel is becoming difficult. It makes me wish that I had been a little older when my grandfather died. I was still very young and he seemed like the coolest guy. He told me that me was a made a better father, brother, and husband because of what he learned through Freemasonry. Above all, he said that he was a better man. I want to be able to say those same things to my grandchildren.
After that I switched projects in work, which may be good as I may be getting promoted in the next few weeks. I started doing some yoga in addition to hitting the gym and running. It feels good to go every now and again, and I have to say that it is quite challenging. Tuesday Night Drinking Club is pretty much responsible for all of my troubles in life. I cannot come in at 4 on Wednesday mornings and expect to be of much use the next day. Our apartment is looking really nice. We recently added another bookcase and a dinette set. It feels strange to live so domestically, but its pretty nice as well. I cook us nice dinners with lots of veggies and we sit and listen to music while eating. Then we have dessert of fruit and yogurt usually and relax the rest of the night. I realize that it isn’t the most exciting thing to do, and especially not the coolest thing to write about, but I find myself amazed at this whole process that we undergo to grow up. Who says we have to be civilized to be successful? I got my last promo after the last trip to Oxford when we got in at 5:30am when I had the interview at 9:00am. I know that at some point, I will not be able to shoot from the hip when I go into important meetings and presentations, but will I ultimately have to fail to learn this? Probably. If there is one thing I have learned about myself, it’s that I will push until pushed back. I always coasted through school and rarely even bought my books for honors classes! Why would I do that? I have no explanation. I made decent grades and made sure that my education did not get in the way of my college experience. But now, as I think about going back to school this year, I realize that I never learned how to be a good student. I learned how to get away with a gross imbalance of work and play. I was supposed to take classes in history, culture, language, and political science and come away with a thorough understanding of regional historiographies. I might have the big picture, but by no means would I call it thorough. I drank Portuguese wine to get ready for my Portuguese language proficiency interview and God knows what happened to me before my Spanish exam. Yet, I passed. This is one thing that I think is frustrating about my college career. I excelled in very little, but performed averagely very often. I do not think myself average. But then again, if that is what I consistently submitted, how can I argue with the evidence?
Alright, that’s quite of enough berating myself today. I feel better. I just sometimes feel that although things are going very well for me right now, to what end I am traveling towards? Where am I going with all this? I moved to DC on a whim and have done nothing but roll 7’s since I arrived. At what point do I have to finally get serious?
Well this was nothing but serious ramblings. So I promise that for the next (and hopefully in the near future) installment, I will post the top quotes and strange experiences from O-town. Take care all.
Live triumphantly.
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