Where the hell am I in all of this?
First of all let it be known that as of 11:40 PM on wednesday I have air travel to Oakland from Seattle. The second I clicked the purchase button I felt a collective gasp from the greater Southern California region. As though fifty million people had been kicked in the groin at the same time. Then there was silence. It is an omen. My presence has sealed the fate of the Trojans. Their defense will tear apart like Trojans are known to do and I will be personally sending hookers to every member of the SC offense the night before the game (except for Leinhart. He's too busy with that 12 year old from Laguna Beach. The lucky, sick, glorious bastard).
I will forewarn you that this is classic late night blog ranting. Filled with wild tangents, poor grammar and even worse punctuation. Are you warned? Very well:
Where the hell am I? Damnit I don't know. Living in Washington so far has been a complete study in paradox: I feel crazy busy, but I don't think I do enough. I've never worked harder, and never felt a greater financial strain. I feel like I just got here, but LA feels like a dream that never happened. I feel the anger and frustration towards God abating, but I still can't go to church on Sunday with throwing up just a little bit in my mouth.
It feels as though the last six months are a transition. Gone are the carefree days of Biola, the skipping of classes, the cafe feeding me. Now I'm married and have to buckle down and earn a living and be responsible and buy a house cuz pretty soon we'll be priced out of the market as first time buyers but we want to get something big enough for kids and.......bullshit I say. When I was in college all I wanted to do was settle down, find a comfortable job and enjoy my Pleasantville life. Now that I'm starting that I feel like it's here about 10 years too soon. Don't get me wrong I love Mandy and I'm happy with her as my wife but I think I'm more frustrated with where society seems to want a man to go when he gets married. I feel like Frank from Old School. So seperated from my instincts as man. They've been replaced with grocery store lines and trips to the vet. I desperately need to find my Streaking the Quad. A release from the tensions and pressures of daily life. It's not that the life up here is intrinsically tough and pressure filled but almost that the tension comes from realizing how good I have it and yet how unfulfilled I feel. Which compounds upon itself because then I feel guilty for not being content with my daily bread or for sitting on my ass here when I've literally seen something like 400,000 lives destroyed through disasters in the last twelve months. They would all be weeping with thanks if they were where I am now. I just don't get it. I am the classic example of the man that Tyler so comprehensively wrote about in "Greener Grass in WA?" back in sept. I feel like Peter Givens, who's got a steady job and is dating Jennifer Anniston and yet is impatient and unsatisfied with his life, "I don't know why I can't just go to work like everyone else and be happy." Maybe I need God to sentance me to 5 to 1o in a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison. I don't know guys. Pretty much the only thing I do know is that I am one fucked up dude who is confused, selfish, and willfuly self-involved. Even this whole post is one big self-indulgence. I mean whenever I decide to get real on this thing I end up whining like a pathetic little bitch. You'd think I was depressed or suicidal or something. I'm actually fairly happy most days but it feels like I have swallow these kinds of thoughts and feelings everyday before I allow myself some happiness. Maybe Jared can help he employed the whole damn BCC for approximately 24 months.
I just don't get it.
Oh well.....fuck SC here we go boys!!!!!!!!!
On our rugged Eastern foothills,
Stands our symbol clear and bold,
Big "C" means to fight and strive
And win for blue and Gold.
Golden Bear is ever watching;
Day by day he prowls,
And when he hears the tread
Of lowly Stanfurd red,
From his Lair he fiercely growls.
What's he say? He says:
Grrrrrah, Grrrrrrah!
Grrrr, Rrrr, Rrrrrah!
We are Sons of California,
Fighting for the Gold and Blue.
Palms of glory we will win
for Alma Mater true.
Stanfurd's men will soon be routed
By our dazzling "C",
And when we serpentine,
Their red will turn to green,
In our hour of victory!
What's he say? He says:
Grrrrrah, Grrrrrrah!
Grrrr, Rrrr, Rrrrrah!
(Unofficial Third Verse)
Down our rugged Eastern foothills,
Slides our symbol through the trees;
Big "C" means look out below
And stand back if you please.
SC's men will soon be routed
As it slips and falls,
And when you hear the crash
Of something getting smashed,
Then you'll know it hit Bowles Hall!
Big Game Titration Verse
We are Sons of California,
Fighting for the Gold and Blue.
Psalms and story and titration
Soon will be all through.
Stanford's men will soon be routed
By Lab-ra-tory
And when we stir this goo,
The red will turn to blue,
In this hour of Chemistry!
posted by Nate B @ 11:56 PM
5 comments
5 Comments:
Best. Post. Ever.
Such a great pic. The greatest day/night of my life.
Oh, and regarding the song, all you need to know is the Grrrrah! part.
this was a great post and it answered most of my questions. Love you bee-eye-ish. get your birkenstocks and liberal attitude, we are going to Berkeley.
watch out for your cornhole, man.
man bish i love the honesty and love the anger (albeit in subsidence.
i agree having to buy the starter house and/or small family house is bullshit but with a beautiful wife and sitting in the middle of the paradise that is washington... not so bullshit.
keep selling them homes and hang out with your wang out this weekend.
oh and ehhh watch out for your cornhole.
i loved this post...especially the part about never feeling so busy and never feeling like you get enough done...and shit
i feel you, but i'm not buying a house
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