The God Thump

My life is really looking good lately. I've got so much of what I want, I feel guilty wanting more. Money is good, my relationship with Heather is wonderful, and my TKD and Russian lessons are going very well. but I had an audition with FUNimation that could give me a principle role for the first time in the three yeas since I started working with them. But can't that be okay, to want that, too? For so long, I've tried and I've waited for different things to come my way, and one by one I'm getting them. It's enough to make me feel a little nervous, wondering when, if, and how any part of it is going to come crashing down.

About two years ago, I found something out about instant karma. I was in a restaurant. I was holding a Coke over the table, bragging about how good I am at my job. I can make anyone laugh who comes through. I make buckets of money, when I really try. I give people life-long memories for the hour or two they spend in my company, pictures and laughter and an experience that will be with them forever and ever, something they will always talk about. I was emphasizing my points with the hand that was holding the glass, and the very moment I made my final point, I dropped the damn thing.

It was a really good drop, too. I hosed down the entire table, along with myself and the three other people I was sitting with. Quite an embarrassment, considering I had *just* finished bragging about what a good waiter I am.

It was then I began to realize any time I get too cocky or overconfident, I believe that God himself reaches down, curls His forefinger beneath His holy thumb, and thumps me back into place. Sometimes, like with the Coke, it's a little thump. Sometimes it's bigger, like hitting the only other car in the parking lot because I was too involved in looking cool driving my big red truck, listening to my music all loud and trying to tear ass out of the parking lot.

I've found that I can be confident without being cocky. If I stay humble and realize that I'm lucky to have my fortunes instead of bragging about them, then everything tends to turn out okay. But as soon as I begin to act like I have what I have because the universe owes me a favor for being cool, the back of my skull feels divine intervention in the same manner as the jerkoff kids who sat behind me on the bus in middle school.

It's very effective.

I'm thankful for what I have, knowing that if I don't take care of that which I hold most dear, I could lose it forever; this has happened before. But I still strive to get more of what I want, because I believe complacency leads to stagnation, atrophy, and my ultimate demise.

Someone asked me recently when on Earth did I find religion. I wasn't raised going to church, but I wasn't taught anything against it, either. It's just in recent years I've begun to see and experience enough in this world that I cannot deny that there is a presence beyond the individual lives of humans, being. Maybe it's the Christian God. Maybe it's The Force. Maybe it's my own spirit animal. Maybe it's the psychic energy of billions of people that harmonizes and makes us all One, flowing around and within and through every living thing on the planet and through every non-living thing on the planet that humans hold dear, working on us to give us ultimate balance and harmony on a universal scale. Whatever it is, calling it God is simplest for me, since the terminology is already in place.

Besides, I think God Thump has a nice ring to it.

New Start

This week beats last week.

Last week, someone I know came to me and let me know she was interested in me. I took a couple of days to think about it, because I was scared. After all, hadn't I *just* recovered from a relationship? Hadn't I decided it was time to start living for myself? Wasn't I finally comfortable being who I was when I was alone? Yes. Yes I was.

But then I thought, why not? I achieved the goals I had set, which was to start living for myself. I made myself happy first. I worked, I studied, I exercised, and I went to bed peaceful and content every night. I decided as long as I don't sacrifice the life I had begun to make for myself, why not share my time with someone who wants to get closer to me? Besides, she's cute. Smart. Funny. Charismatic. Everyone I know (and more importantly, everyone whose opinion I respect) really likes her. So last Sunday, I decided to give it a try, and start dating.

Since then, I've hardly spent a moment out of her company. She's wonderful. She's sweet. She's fun. She makes me laugh. She's great to go out with, and she's fantastic to stay in with. Heh—and I thought I was going to go home sad and alone on Valentine's Day. Fooled me.

I was scared at first, because my future plans are still intact. I'm still going to Moscow, unless something unforeseen and out of my control stops me. But she accepts this along with the rest of me and who I am, and she's still here, and everything is happy and comfortable and wonderful and . . . . and, and, and. What's going to happen as of August is something we've not yet discussed, but since we've only been together for a week and have six months to go, it's a conversation that can wait a bit.

Grin :)

Her name is Heather.

What else can I say?

"Sing like no one's listening,
dance like no one's watching,
and love like you've never been hurt."

Fresh Air

This past week has been the best I've had in a long, long time.

It started Monday, when I found out for certain that my roommate's boyfriend is moving in with us. I like my roommate, and I like her boyfriend, and we all get along—but one of the coolest things about it is just how much MORE money I'll be able to save for the fact that bills are being split between three instead of two. In fact, the drop in rent alone is EXACTLY the cost of Taekwondo lessons. Woot!

This information drove me straight back to Chung's Taekwondo, where two years ago I earned my green belt. Tuesday night was the first class I had in a year and a half. I was proud of how little ability I'd lost since I was last there (much less since I took classes regularly), and proud of the fact that I was able to keep up with such an intense workout without it killing me. I'll be taking four (and possibly five) classes a week. About a month from now is the next belt test, and I'm going to make certain I earn my next belt by then. Everyone capable of showing up to Carrollton one Saturday morning in the near future will see one of the most happy and proud days I will have had in a VERY long time.

On Wednesday, thanks to Eric, I finally discovered the joy of rock climbing. I love it, and I'm going to add it to my repertoire of ways in which I exercise with immediacy. I also, thanks to Eric introducing me to a brand new physical activity, got sore muscles in places I've never had sore muscles before.

I'd ask you now to stop your juvenile giggling if I wasn't doing it myself.

For those of you who were at Josie's party Thursday night—thank you. I can't remember when I've had so much fun, or laughed so hard, or felt so refreshed and rejuvenated and validated as a human being. There's nothing about that night I wouldn't repeat. Thank you to all who were there and made that night what it was, but more thanks go to Megan and Heather who put forth such an imaginative and hilarious invitation that I couldn't refuse. The voice of a hot Russian chick who can't understand (let alone speak) a word of Russian asking about my body hair is a memory that will have me giggling incessantly when I'm actually IN Russia listening to Russian women speaking English. You guys rock.

Then I went to work this weekend and made $500 in two days. THAT should get the bank off my fucking back. Just last week I wouldn't have thought I'd be saying this—but let's hear it for Valentine's Day.

And finally, after work last night, getting to re-connect with an age-old friend for as many hours as I did and vent a few things is perhaps the primary reason I'm so thrilled, emotionally, as I write this.

*sigh of relief*

Grounded

I would like to take this moment to lament how horrible it is that in this consumer-based economy, there are those who would prey on the inexperienced. They feel no remorse for helping to over-extend the financial responsibilities of those who don't know any better, and make a quick and easy profit when said inexperienced soul has to pay a 19.99% interest rate on all purchases via "credit".

Responsibility without education gets one . . . . let's just say "into trouble". And while I'm on the topic, education without ambition gets one "depressed".

And now I'm done lamenting on THIS particular topic. Why stop now? Because not only am I one of those who got preyed upon, but I'm one who knows exactly how to get out of the forest of debt, and has thus far taken no serious steps (read: sacrifices) to get OUT of the forest. One of the aspects of my personal philosophy states that one should not complain; one should alter the situation, or adapt to it.

Or just not bitch.

Anyway.

I'm annoyed about it THIS week because I managed to do one of the most embarrassing things I've ever done YET AGAIN this week—I overdrew my checking account. About every six months or so, I stop acting responsible and I start forgetting that the amount of money I'm spending doesn't equal the amount I'm making, and the bank charges a hefty sum for that. I know what it is I'm supposed to be doing to make certain my financial responsibilities are met, and yet time and again I refuse to meet them. Maybe this is why God hasn't seen fit to let me win the lottery, or put some large sum of money in my hands—He knows I'd just abuse it. No matter how much I seem to have, I keep finding ways to overextend myself.

I feel better. Thank you.

But it's particularly annoying this time, not simply for the fact that I've wounded myself in the wallet once more, but because it puts a dent in my plan of action that I came up with just a day or two ago.

First, it's time to begin Russian lessons once again. Sure, I can learn one way or another on my own, but paying for the 1-on-1 lessons with another human being is a) necessary and b) expensive. I'm hard-pressed to start up again when I'm not completely certain how I'm going to pay for food or gas or rent over the course of this next month. Hopefully I'll do well at the restaurant during Valentine's Day weekend.

But more—I'm trying to no longer be the person I was, or the person I am today. I'm trying to become the person I'm GOING to become. To that end, I have another means in mind. I'm going to get back into Taekwondo.

Taekwondo quite literally changed my life. It wasn't just a matter of harmonizing my mind with my body (which it did quite well, thank you very much), but it was infusing my very soul with an inner peace and sense of accomplishment I hadn't known before. My life became more structured. I became more self-disciplined. I set goals for myself, and met them every time. Almost exactly two years ago, I had one of the most proud experiences of my life there—but that's a story for another time.

I stopped taking it because of the expense of Russian lessons. But since I've come into my new apartment, I've realized a few things: Rent is cheaper by nearly the cost of a month's worth of TKD lessons. When I take into account that my other bills are only half what they used to be, freeing up my financial structure even more, I see that going back to the study of martial arts is once again within my reach.

Besides, as much fun as it's been hanging out with friends at the bar, I've come to realize that I have more to learn and more to gain through TKD than through socialization. No disrespect intended to ANY of my friends, but knocking back bourbon has NOTHING to do with the discipline I desire in my life.

I'm trying to change myself so that I may better respect the person I see in the mirror. That man is my greatest enemy, and no one else on this earth knows my weaknesses like he does. I'd better kick his ass before he kicks mine.

Phoenix Rising

Immediately upon posting my entry last week, I made a realization, and then a determination.

The realization is that I've spent too much time living in the recent past. Constantly have I played and replayed events of this past year in my head, fantasizing repeatedly the things I wish I'd said or done differently that would have avoided the pains and traumas I (and others) suffered as a result. I believe this is normal, and to some extent, healthy. Why do we study history in a classroom? The standard argument is that if we do not learn from our past, we will be forced to repeat it.

Dear Lord, may I pretty please NOT have a repeat performance of the miseries of this last year. Thank you, and Amen.

I find it's necessary to explain that not everything about this last year was miserable--but for every joy I felt, there was an undercurrent that I was making a painful sacrifice to obtain an opportunity I truly wanted. I was never as confident as I pretended that I was doing "the right thing". I'm still not, but for now, that's neither here nor there.

It's time to force myself to see the present day as well as the near future. The ties to my past are clipped, and I can no longer change my past any more than I can change the position of the heavens. For months now, I've complained about my lot in life. The time for that must end if ever I shall find myself among my goals and desires. I went through something rough recently as I have done before. It will never cease to be a part of who I am, but I refuse to let it define me any longer.

No one event, nor a series of related events, can define a person. No one color or song can describe a whole entity that is a human being. No one philosophy can contain the entirety of a human heart. The person I am shall no longer be constrained by the short-term ramifications of a single mistake.

Beginning today, I define my destiny. I will shape my world around who I am and what I want. I WILL not let the shape of the path my life has taken turn me into some complacent, comfortable, and ultimately unhappy little man.

Not again, anyway :)

Not anytime soon.

Besides. I got tired of sounding like I was a whiny little bitch every week.

Nothing To Say

For the first time in months, I find I have nothing to say.

Last week saw the culmination of the last year of my life. From the moment I started thinking about going to Moscow and what that would mean, a chain of events began that didn't end until last Monday afternoon, when I walked out of that apartment for the last time, turned in the keys, and said goodbye. Up until then, my life had been redefined and re-shaped by that one decision, and everything else in my life--every decision and every choice, every day--produced a further alteration. I had a life established, and every aspect of that life was affected.

Now, that life is gone though the decision remains. Now, my life will form around the choices I've made instead of be destroyed by them.

Since Monday, I've been on quite a mental vacation. I have done nothing significant. I washed some clothes and I saw a fantastic movie (Pan's Labyrinth). I went to work, made some money, and went home again.

At first, I was a little concerned that I wasn't doing anything with myself. I began to fear that I was falling back into sheer anti-social laziness. But then it occurred to me just how stressful this last year has been on me, especially these last few months, and I decided it's okay that I took a few days off. As long as I get back to the grindstone this week, that is.

Working hard, in my current case, is under the same category as changing my diet to lose weight, as I've done recently. It's okay not to stay within the strictest interpretation of what I'm trying to achieve, as long as I spend 80% of my time being good, and only 20% being undisciplined, lazy, and selfish. Once the habits become better established, I'll move it to more like 90/10.

I successfully lost and kept off weight. Now I must do the same trying to get an agent for the rest of my time in Dallas, and learning Russian. Thinking of how much I've grown up and changed this last year, I think I can do it.

Time will tell for certain.

Imagine No Possesions

Just over an hour ago, I woke up on the floor of an empty apartment. It's the last day of the lease, and I'm here to make certain the place is all cleaned up and cleaned out. Sleeping here again brings back fresh memories of why I had to get out so desperately, but it will be okay--fourteen hours from now, at midnight, the lease will be over and I'll be at Industry Bar drinking bourbon and, if they let me, smoking a cigar. And that should be the end of this mess.

When I was in college, I got intensely depressed. As in, I only got eight hours of sleep a week and started going to the therapy sessions provided by the school. Getting away from there, physically, was the only thing I could think of that lifted me out of the bleakness. I remember going to visit my oldest friend in Louisiana, and with every tick of the odometer on the seven hour drive, I felt myself able to breathe a little easier.

It was about that time a rather romantic notion came into my head--an idea for a fresh start. When I was a kid, about nine if I remember correctly, I saw a story in a magazine called "The Walk West". It was about a man named Peter Jenkins, who (for whatever reason) crossed the country on foot from the northeast all the way out to California. The trip took years as he'd settle down for a bit here and there, get a job, recuperate, and move on again. This remains one of the most inspiring stories I've ever heard.

When I was in my depression in college, I adapted Jenkins' story to what I would do for myself to get away. First, I would sell everything I own. I'd keep a few clothes, obviously, and a few personal keepsakes, but I'd get rid of the rest. My truck, my furniture, my books, movies, toys, games, all of it gone. The revenue would get me out of debt and earn me some extra cash besides, which I would use to make a walk north--to Chicago, a city I've seen a few times and love most dearly, the place I first wanted to end up when I left college.

The walk itself would probably take months, during which time I'd change myself. I'd see and learn more about the world around me. I'd experience places and people, hear their stories. I'd certainly drop the pounds I was looking to shed then, too (this has kinda been a life-long battle for me). But most important, the time it would take me to get there would really allow me to feel the physcal distance, the separation from the place I lived when I got so screwed up inside. When I got there, as cleaned out in the head and the body as possible, then I'd start over with my life. I'm a little sad I never did that.

Now's my chance to modify that plan to today's situation. I'm getting rid of everything I own. No more furniture. No more books, movies, or pieces of art for my wall. No more truck. I'm selling every stitch of it if I don't just give it away, and the sentimental stuff to keep will fit into a single box over which my loving parents will hopefully keep a watchful eye. Then, instead of walking to another city, I'll be flying to another country. Another culture. Another language. A place where I'll spend years enveloped in study. I'll have the chance not simply to get away, but to BE away from the place I lived when I made so many bad choices, so many mistakes. The place where I so very often chose stagnation over adaptation.

Dallas has treated me well, and it gave me everything I wanted. But I became complacent here, too. Too often have I watched the deadlines for my dreams slip by without taking action. Too often have I complained about this happening.

It's time to grow up.