the dayton days [61]

Cars sporting off her chopsticks

The First Day of Spring. Several storms rolled through, thunder shaking the house and wind cutting across the front porch and knocking over the glass patio out back. It shattered, and once the rains cleared, Mom and I spent forty minutes cleaning it up before the next storm rolled through. I've been pretty depressed off-and-on lately. All I feel is hopeless and helpless. Stagnant, barely treading water. Despair. Shit, words can't even describe it. Metaphors and similes are all I have at my disposal, and they fall flat. There's darkness in my heart, and as I write tears threaten to well up. The heavy weight of my purposeless existence wraps like a noose around my throat. What's the point of moving forward? It doesn't matter. Nothing will change. All I have to look forward to is misery, loneliness, growing old and bitter, calloused and unfeeling. Hell, I'm already halfway there. It's hard to give a damn about "priorities" when all your energy is focused on making it another night without drawing the razor against your arm (I'm speaking metaphorically here, folks). Much of this sadness is probably due to confusion about Jessica: well, not really confusion, but honesty. I'm honest when I claim I like her, that I'm drawnn to her. But I can't help but feel that she's too good for me, that she deserves someone who's not fucked up. 

Tuesday. I worked 5:30-2:00. I'm starting to really "like" Jess and I hate myself for it. After work I went to Wal-Mart and picked up a lockbox to hold my treasures. Tyler came over, and we got ice cream at DQ and attempted a fire in the backyard. He left and I worked out. I'm seeing Jessie tomorrow, and probably going to a concert at the Claypole House.

Wednesday. I worked 6-10:00, then did an Ecosure audit till noon. I gave Jess some CDs I burned for her upon request: Florence & The Machine and Adele. I met up with Jessie from Illinois at the Hilltop Cafe, ran into Kugler and Sam. Jessie and I got lunch at The Anchor, and then I napped in Blake's bed before the "house show." Mandy and I hung out in her room and then sat on the front porch and out back Jessie smoked a cigarette for the first time. Gambill came by and we went to Ams (but she was at work), ran some errands, and then hung out with Sarah and Ams (once Ams got off work). 

Thursday. Ams came into town. We sat in her car and smoked. I spent the whole day chill, just watched Arrested Development. I met up with Carly, Jessica, and Emily at Carly's apartment. Jess & I made coffee. She and Carly went off about work drama and politics. Emily and Jessica left (D.C. trip tomorrow), and Carly and I sprawled out in the living room and talked about eschatology, demonic possession and oppression. I enjoyed a quiet, albeit cold, drive home down winding country roads.

Friday. I went down to Cincinnati: Tea Shoppe with Mandy and Jessie, hanging with Mandy upstairs at the Claypole House, and then hanging out with Blake & Rob in the living room.

Saturday. I worked 9:30-6:00 with Carly and Abby. Mom & Dad went out of town. I spent the evening watching countless episodes of Arrested Development. Carly and I were going to hang out but her boyfriend Devyn came into town. I was pretty tired anyways, so it was good to just stay at home. 

Sunday. Dylan & Tyler came over, and we went by work for coffee. Dewenter joined us back home, and we made a fire out back. The twins left, so Dewenter and I grabbed China Cottage, and Carly, Devyn, and Alison joined us. Dewenter knows Carly somehow, I guess they went to the same high school? Small world. Dewenter went home, and the rest of us convened at Carly's apartment and we watched The Usual Suspects. 

the dayton days [60]*

Jessica being a badass in the car

Amanda's 22nd Birthday. Morning ritual at 4:15 AM: cigarette, coffee, let Sky out, get dressed, let Sky back in, go to work (I shower at night). We were decently slow, even for a Monday. Memorable conversation topic: inter-species relationships. I had a bagel for lunch and went home to nap, play with Sky, and work on "Reframing Repentance." Mom came home and we took the Celica to the auto shop, and then I took the Vibe down to Cincinnati to celebrate Ams' birthday with "The Crew": Mandy, Blake, Amos, and Gambill. Rob and Tony were there, too, watching their ridiculous movies and making coffee. Ams, Blake and I got dinner at Rock Bottom. We returned to the Claypole House and gathered in Mandy's room to celebrate with Mandy and Gambill. We used John's "Gandalf Pipe." For two hours we just listened to music without saying a word. "Florence & The Machine." I had to leave so I went downstairs and smoked a cigarette with Amos, had some coffee with Rob, and went home to play fetch with Sky at 2 AM. 

Tuesday. I slept in till 9:00. Since my car was in the shop, I was stuck at home until Mom came home from work. I did lots of cleaning and played with Sky, watched TV and did some writing. The shop confirmed the car's pads and rotors to be worn out; Dad and I plan on fixing them tomorrow. When Mom came home, I put Sky in the Vibe's passenger seat and took her through the Starbucks DT. She growled at Kyle in the window, and she never growls. I told Jess about it: "OMG! That makes my day!" I quoted Ace Ventura: "So it's true: dogs can sense evil." Mom smoked 1/2 a cigarette in the house. Quite out-of-character. In some ways she's rebellious deep down. That's probably where Ams gets it. I yelled at Mom, "Don't smoke that in here! You'll make the place smell!" She winked: "I'll just tell your dad that you did it." 

Wednesday. I worked 7:30-4:00. We got tips so I went to DLM and got some mashed potatoes and had some for dinner with corn on the side. Mom had her bible study. The topic was sex, so I wasn't allowed anywhere near. Dad and I worked on the brakes. A new part will hopefully finish the job tomorrow. I had a headache all freaking day.

Saint Patrick's Day. I worked 10-5:00, covered an extra two hours for Wade (he's going out-of-town), and smoked with Jessica on my 10. Kyle's been getting worse. He "touched" her 3 times today, and it ruined her day. "You need to talk to him about it," I said, "or I will." After work I took Sky for a walk, worked out, and had grilled chicken and parmesan potatoes for dinner. Leah came by to see Sky and then she joined me for a trip to DLM for groceries. She left just as Pat D. pulled up. "Dude, she's cute, you should date her!" he said. I just laughed. Dad & I worked on the brakes some more: the shop gave us the wrong part, so we had to order yet another part. I'm being taught patience and I don't like it. I just want my car back.

Friday. I worked 6:30-3:00, did some work on "Reframing Repentance." Mom & I watched "Inception" (I bought it last week), and we fixed fish, asparagus, and mushrooms for dinner. Mom & Dad went to bible study, so did some more writing--only 1/2 a chapter to go until I finish the rough draft!--and played with Sky in the yard and then took her through the 'Bux for a puppy whip. The car's brakes are even worse today: here's to a successful car repair tomorrow! 

Saturday. Jessica kept drunk-texting me all night long, drinking with her roommate Emily. I drove the Vibe to work (9-4:00) so Dad could tinker with my car. When I got home, we finished the job. The new brakes are WONDERFUL. Mom made dinner, and then Jessica and I went down to Cincinnati after meeting up at the 'Bux. Leah was there, was pretty cold towards me: probably assumed Jess and I are dating. That's definitely not the case. Though to be entirely honest, I do find myself liking her a bit. Not overwhelmingly-so, but I'm attracted to her and she's pretty awesome. Am I going to say something? HELL no. But I think she may be starting to find herself attracted to me. Just things she's said and done. Like drunk-texting me, emphasizing how she wants a Christian guy, and she told me that before she realized what an ass and liar Kyle is she considered dating him because he seemed cool at the time, but doing it in secret, "because he was a barista, and I was a shift, so we couldn't date; but seriously, eff that." At the same time, she's borderline in love with her friend Brian, who doesn't like her, but she does know he's not good for her. The two of us went to the Claypole House and she met Rob & Mandy, Ams & Gambill, and C. Isaac, who was also there.We gathered in Mandy's room to hang out. We all had a good time, and Jessica said she really likes all those guys and would love to go back sometime. We got back into town around 2 AM and split ways. 

Sunday. I woke to coffee, cigarettes, and playtime with Sky. Dylan, Tyler, Dewenter and I got China Cottage for lunch. We shared beers back at the house, sitting on the front porch in this phenomenal weather. They headed home and I had some shrimp for dinner. I talked with Jessica for a bit. I should probably slay any and all developing feelings for her. But, alas, I am at the mercy of my own heart. 

* As for the asterisk, there's two weeks entitled "[44]", which means that everything past this is under a week. So this, [59] in the series, is actually [60] in the series. And because I'm too lazy to go back and edit all the posts between 45-60, this will have to suffice.

the dayton days [58]

Me & Skyler. She looks tense because there's a
stick nearby. She has a sort of fetish...

Monday. Skyler--a.k.a. Sky--slept in my room last night. Dad doesn't hate her, so he said OK. She's ours. Well, technically she's mine. I worked 7:30-3:30, then went down to Cincinnati. Blake, Amos, Ams, Mandy, Gambill and I gathered in Mandy's room for several hours, and we all stumbled out in a thick haze. I went downstairs and had a beer with Rob, and Mandy made pancakes for dinner.

My 24th Birthday. Mandy & I crushed a French-press of African, and then I had more coffee at The Anchor with Sarah. It was good to catch up. I returned home to do some cleaning and to play with Sky. I'm training her to bring the stick to me instead of just dropping it when we play fetch. "Skyler's your birthday gift," Mom said. We ran to the store, got her a bed, and rounded off the night with ice cream.

Wednesday. I worked a long-ass 6-2:30, and then Jessica and I took Skyler for a walk in the rain at Stubb's Park. She loved it. Chasing sticks and splashing in puddles. Jess & I had lots of great conversation, and after the walk we sat under the gazebo and smoked cigarettes and talked about all sorts of things with the rain falling in hammering sheets all around us. I gave Skyler a bath when we got home: she doesn't like it, but she's supple. Tyler & I grabbed dinner at Sammy's Tex-Mex, and I had chimichangas and some fried ice cream to polish it off. Jess & I were going to grab some beers during Mom's bible study, but she fell asleep. That happens often. The girls from Mom's group LOVE Skyler.

Thursday. I worked 11-4:00 with my mentorship with Wade sandwiched in the middle. Leah worked 2-7:00, so we worked together. It wasn't bad. Carly and I were going to get sushi but she's in the ER: pissing blood. Doctors are running tests to figure out what's wrong. It started snowing after work. I hate this snow. I had China Cottage for dinner. Apparently I'll be wealthy when I get older, at least according to my fortune. Quite laughable.

Friday. I worked 10-6:00 and then sat on the front porch yearning for spring and smoking a cigarette in the cold. Mom had Sky put in my name at the bureau. "She's already so in love with you" The brakes on the Celica are shot; I'm hoping to get them fixed tomorrow, or at least this weekend. There were so many cute girls at work today. We smoked and watched "Inception," I've never been so into a movie in my entire life. It was phenomenal. 

Saturday. I worked 5:30-2:00, opened with JJ, always a great time. I'm surely blessed to have this job; I thank God for it. Ams came up. Mom & Dad went to Columbus for Barnhart Game Night. Ams and I sat on the front porch and smoked. Ams said she's glad Leah & I broke up. "She's a great girl, but she's way too young for you. You're mature now, and everyone likes it." 

Sunday. We lost an hour last night. Now the mornings will be darker, the evenings lighter. I worked on "Reframing Repentance" at work. Nearly 300 pages right now. Sky went on a walk at Sugarcreek Reserve and loved it. Dad & I worked on the Celica, tinkering with the brakes and motors. We have to take it to the shop tomorrow. Mom, Dad, Ams & I grabbed lunch at Archer's. I had a beer, a wrap, and a salad. Dad & I watched TV and he fell asleep, as always. Mom & Ams went shopping and then Ams went back to Cincinnati. I ran to DLM for groceries and to The Marketplace for cigarettes.

the dayton days [57]

Monday. Storms shook the house all night long. Flooding this morning. I worked 5:30-2:00 and read McCarthy on break. My review with Faith is tomorrow, so I spent the afternoon listening to Led Zeppelin and catching up on my PDP. Leah and I broke up. There were lots of reasons, not least (a) the high probability that she cheated on me, and (b) that she wants "nothing serious," and I want, eventually, a wife and kids. The breakup was pretty civil, though. She went on and on about how great I am, the best boyfriend she's ever had, but who knows if that's genuine? I called Jessie and told her all about it. I had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and Dylan came over for a bit. We ran to DLM for groceries. Leah texted me: "What if I regret all this? What if you end up being my biggest mistake? You're seriously like the best guy ever, and now I don't have you."

Tuesday. I worked 5:30-11:00 and had my 1 Year Review. It went very well. Faith says I'm definitely an asset, I'm the favorite among shifts. I spent the afternoon watching TV and Dewenter came over when he got off work, and we hit up China Cottage: General Tso's chicken, dark meat, with steamed rice, egg drop soup, and an appetizer of egg drop soup. DELIGHTFUL. We went back to the house and played some Wii and laughed about the 'olden days. My fortune cookie: "You will soon gain something you have always wanted."

Wednesday. I worked 6-2:30, and then Jessica, Carly and I hit up Flavor's Eatery, Borders, and then we went to Carly's new kick-ass apartment for French-pressed Yukon Blend and conversation and laughter until 10 PM. Jess opened up about some of her struggles, even to the point of tears. My heart broke for her. I didn't know what to say, how to offer comfort. She wept about God and I couldn't give any answers because I didn't have them. But, then again, I doubt she wanted them. Jessica, Cars & I are deepening in our friendship and people are taking notice. Jess & Cars are both shifts now; I'm a peon. A general rule: the two shouldn't mix. Both told Faith, "Anthony's a good friend, and that won't change." Faith was cool with it. Jess said, "If it ever came down to my job or my friendships, I'd choose you guys." Our trio of companionship, slowly evolving and gathering watchful eyes, has transcended the norm with trust, transparency, and affection. A beautiful, wonderful thing. Jess talked about how getting this job was a God thing. Working with Christians, building great relationships with Christians, encouragement and accountability. I wonder if it's not the same for me? Cars kept hinting that Jessica and I should date. I'm the type of guy Jess is into, and being a Christian is a real turn-on for her. But we work together and she's my boss, AND I miss Leah. So that's a No-Go and on my own accord.

Thursday. I worked 5:30-10:00, returned home to nap and dream of Leah, and I woke up sad. Why couldn't she be where I'm at, wanting the same things? Liking someone doesn't make a relationship work, and that's all we have. It was a wise decision we shared, and now we reap the loss of one another. I texted her, "I miss you so much tonight, Babe, it's not even funny. My night sucks 'cause I can't stop thinking about you." She said, "Well, try all day for me. And now I'm having dreams about you!" 

Friday. I worked a long and tiring 7:30-4:00, and now I have the whole weekend to look forward to. I'm resisting the urge to go down to Cincinnati since I'll be there Monday. I spent the evening writing, and it got warmer, up to sixty degrees, and started raining. And raining. And raining. The attic's leaking, the crawlspace is flooding. Boxes upended on bricks. I went over to Carly's and hung out with her and Alison, and then we went to Cadillac Jack's to celebrate Lourdes' last close (Cars took over for her; Lourdes quit, tired of drama). Good beer, good food, good friends. A good night.

Saturday. I met up with Leah for a little bit at Cadillac Jack's. Mandy convinced me come down, so I did, and we went out to Colerain to meet up with someone she knew, and we almost hit a bunch of deer. Ams joined us back at the Claypole House, and so did Gambill. He's interested in Ams. We grabbed some food, gathered in Mandy's room, and I crashed in the bed downstairs. Five blankets and I was still cold.

Sunday. I returned home after breakfast at The Anchor, and I went by work and had a chai and worked on some essays for Mandy. I went to Barnes & Noble but saw nothing worth purchasing. Mom's thinking about getting a dog from a friend. A boxer-shepherd mix named Skyler. She brought her over. Shy, timid, loves to play fetch. Dewenter came over for a bit and we played with the dog. Dewenter ran off to his grandpa's. I was supposed to hang out with Jess and Carly, but Jess was too tired and Cars didn't respond to my texts. So I spent the night alone and sad. Dylan and Tyler are in Tennessee for ten days. But tomorrow will be good: birthday bash in Cincinnati!

an ode to cincinnati

Life continues to be hectic. Tuesday I worked a short shift with some of my favorite people, and then Dad and I went out for dinner at Panera Bread Company. Tuna sandwich with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Their tuna sandwich is just decent, but it’s remarkably healthy. For an amazing tuna sandwich, I recommend Jimmy John’s. They put alfalfa sprouts on that shit. We had pretty good conversation, and I went to bed early. Yesterday I worked 7-2:30 (was supposed to work till 3:30, but we were slow, so I got to go home early, and in the evening I came down to Cincinnati and hit up The Anchor with Carly, Devyn , Alison, and their friend Tony. I only had coffee and a glass of orange juice, surprisingly (can’t get enough of the O.J. these days). It was good hanging out far from work, nestled in a quiet corner of a quiet Kentucky town. So many great stories and so much laughter. I love these people. Afterwards I hung out with Rob and Mandy at the Claypole House, and then I came over to Amanda’s place. She’s gone for the night and Sarah was asleep because she had to get up at 6:00 to work Opening Day, and my key got lodged in the door and she had to help me get it out. The whole ordeal took at least ten minutes. This afternoon I’m getting lunch with Carly and her peeps and then heading back to Dayton. I work both tomorrow and Saturday, and I’m looking forward to hanging out with Dylan, Tyler, and Pat D. this weekend.

I love coming down to Cincinnati. I miss the town, the city, everything about it. Even the not-so-great parts of it I miss. There are so many memories, both good and bad, wrapped around and about this city. Everything holds some sort of meaning derived from an experience that unfolded in that place. I can’t go anywhere without being reminded of different segments and phases of my life, reliving in full color all those experiences which seemed so pointless at the time but which have gathered to themselves so much meaning. I’ve considered moving back to Cincinnati, but right now, financially, it’s not in the cards. It’s sad, really: many of my best friends are leaving soon. Here in Cincinnati, Blake and Amos may be leaving. Rob and Mandy will probably be around for a while, and Amanda will stay down here, too. Back home, Patrick is moving to northern Kentucky to attend N.K.U. while Dylan runs off to Mozambique for the Peace Corps (he’s officially been invited; excellent news!). Whatever will happen to me? Who will I hang out with? Tyler, for sure; he’ll still be around, at least for a bit. And I’ve been becoming great friends with some people from work, namely Carly and Jessica. New phases of life are beginning for all sorts of people. 

3.28.11

30 Days of Photos is over, and I couldn't be happier. It was wearing me out. So many of the questions were veiled repetitions of the ones before, too; it kinda made me sad that I found a different--and better--questionnaire on a random website about two days ago. The questions were incredible. I may have to throw them in here sometime; there were only about ten of them, so that's much less a commitment than the 30 Days. Now I can resume normal blog postings; you know, the pointless one's detailing my "adventurous" life and such of that nature. To begin, we'll overlook my four-day weekend ("sort of" a four-day weekend; I had Thursday and Friday off work, a meager shift Saturday afternoon, and then Sunday off, too). 

Wednesday. I guess my weekend began Wednesday after a short 6-10:00 shift. My good friend Jessica went to D.C. so I burned her copies of "Adele" and "Florence & The Machine," and in the middle of the CDs I inserted the smash-hit "parody/mockery" song "Friday" by Rebecca Black. A running joke since we listened to the song on a random road trip to Cincinnati a week or two ago. I went down to Cincinnati and met up with Jessie and Kugler at The Hilltop Cafe, my place of employment in college. Ran into a bunch of people I remembered and miss. It was weird being there; I hadn't been there in over a year, if memory serves me correctly (doubtful), and it's just weird how much has changed, and yet how much has remained the same. Jessie and I got lunch at The Anchor and caught up on all the goings-ons in our lives. I left Cincinnati for Dayton, she left for Illinois, and it's always good when we get to see each other. She's getting married soon, and that's very exciting. I spent the afternoon napping in Blake's bed while watching tv, and then Mandy and I hung out for a bit and a solo artist named Bradley Hathaway gave a free showing at the Claypole house (he's friends with Blake, I think?). He was really good, but I must admit for the majority of the show I was out on the front porch with Mandy and one of her work friends, or on the back porch with Jessie, Tony, and Whitley. Gambill showed up and we ran over to Amanda's apartment to see her and Sarah. We went back to the Claypole House and I drank some coffee with Rob and then headed back to Dayton, getting in around 2:00 AM.

Thursday. Amanda came up and we spent much of the day together. I watched countless episodes of "Arrested Development," and then ran over to Carly's apartment to hang out with her, Jessica, and Jessica's roommate Emily. They didn't stay long (ran to Chicago Friday morning), and when they left, Carly and I hung out in the living room and talked about theology, eschatology, repentance,the difference(s) between demonic oppression and demonic possession, etc. It was great. 

Friday. I went back down to Cincinnati. Scored some tea with Jessie and Mandy (see photo above, taken at the tea shoppe). I had a chai bubble tea. Bits of tapioca pudding inside. Phenomenal. Mandy spilled her iced tea all over the place, and I snapped some pictures of it. They didn't turn out too well, unfortunately. We went to the Claypole House and I got a t-shirt with a koala on it. Amazing. Mandy and I were going to run to Clifton but something came up and she had to abandon the house. No worries: I spent the evening with Blake and Rob. I don't get to spend much time with Rob, and it's good to sit down and laugh with him like old times. 

Saturday. I finally got some alone-time. Lied on the sofa all day and watched episodes of "Arrested Development," able to recharge. So much laughter. I haven't watched the show in a long time, and in each episode I notice things I never saw before. The show is so multi-layered; just go to wikipedia and look up an episode, and see how much allusions and foreshadowings and flash-backs and inside jokes they have. I've watched later episodes with people unfamiliar with the show, and many of the jokes are lost because they haven't seen the rest of the show. It's like "Lost," I guess, except it's a comedy. And not as multi-layered. 

Sunday. Dylan and Tyler came over in the afternoon, and we went by work and had a bonfire out back with Dad. Dewenter showed up, and after the twins left, we watched a documentary on the Deep Sea, all the weird sea creatures and shit that live in those depths. Scary stuff. The material of nightmares. They had one type of... thing... that was the inspiration for the alien in "Alien." It looked a lot like it, except it was pretty small. And they had one carnivorous animal that was the size of a pea. Crazy stuff. We hooked up with Carly, her boyfriend Devyn, and his sister Alison for dinner at China Cottage. Inviting more people into our tradition. Dewenter went home and I went with the rest of the clan to Carly's apartment where we watched "The Usual Suspects."

That was my weekend. Today I worked 7-3:30 (went in at 5:30, looking at last week's schedule; damn it), played with Sky, fixed a breakfast dinner--turkey bacon, eggs, and toast--and then took a two-hour nap, sleeping till 7:00. It's 8:30 now and I'm pretty well-rested and don't know what to do. Well. At least I updated my blog?

30 Days (XXX)

A Picture of Someone You Miss

Maebe, my old hamster.
We only had her for a year before she keeled over.

30 Days (XXIX)

A Picture That Can Always Make You Smile

My aunt in all her glory.

30 Days (XXVIII)

A Picture of Your Greatest Fear

I wrote this years ago on this blog. It’s been years since I’ve even seen Donnie Darko, and that becomes relevant in a moment. While much of the “consequential” belief systems in this fear have changed and evolved over the years—for example, I don’t believe in “The One”—the core fear (romantic loneliness) remains coherent. My framework for addressing this fear has changed much since then, whether for better or ill, but the heart of this explains what I’m most afraid of:

Do you know what I’m afraid of? I’m so afraid. I never thought I would say this to you: I am afraid of being alone. This fear haunts me, eats me, and consumes me, day in and day out, judging and liquidating my every move. I fear, so badly, never having anyone. I fear growing old, cold, and alone, never tasting love, and dying alone and forgotten in a decrepit hospice, those whitewashed tombs. I am so afraid I will never taste the kiss of a girl or feel the warmth of her body close; I am so afraid I will never be the focus of sparkling eyes and a tender touch and shy smiles. I fear never being loved, only watching others parade in fashion, hungering and thirsting and crying in my own silence. I can’t rationalize my fear away; you can’t rationalize the fear of snakes or spiders, and my life’s history gives no alternate meaning: “No one wants you, and all who might want you will be taken from you.” I am left alone, unwanted, watching my friends and their girls, watching the object of my passion for so long taken by a best friend—and he forgets me [an event in High School that foreshadows, ironically, what would happen my sophomore year of college]. For so long I’ve lain alone at home in bed as my friends went out with all those who shared affection. 

I don’t want sex or making out. I want someone to talk with, someone to hold close, a girl who doesn’t shiver at my sight but draws near, finding comfort and refuge in my arms. When she cries, I want to hold her. When I cry, I want her to hold me. I am a romantic shunned, looking around and seeing sex-mongers cheating the romance out of girls, leaving them hollow, sluttish shells—the rape of all good and true. I want a girl so badly, a genuine and authentic, loving and cherished, a beautiful and captivating girl to find a hiding place in my love, to cry no more. I want to go to candlelit dinners, to hold her by a fire, to feed off her warmth under the stars, to whisper in her ear, “I love you. It will be okay.”

Did you ever see the movie Donnie Darko? Donnie falls in love with Gretchen, and she is killed—run over by a car. It is very tragic. This haunts me, sears me, paralyzes me. It comes up in my dreams and nightmares. I am Donnie—weird, socially blundering, wanting the girl. Gretchen is the one whom I seek; I am the one who’s filled her dreams of weddings and engagements and honeymoons. Then she is taken, brutally and savagely, innocent and angelic, battered and bloodied. This I fear, too: discovering the One—and she is taken from me. I fear she shall be taken from me.

30 Days (XXVII)

A Picture of Yourself & A Family Member

She's already been on this "30 Days" thing.
And she's been mentioned in subsequent blogs again and again.
But one more time wouldn't hurt.
Amanda, my little sister, with me at Christmas this year.
Here's an acrostic:


A is for Android,
M is for Mars,
A is for Asteroid,
N is for Neptune,
D is for deep-space,
And this cosmic acrostic is for you.
            - Dedicated to My Little Sister


She's pretty great.

30 Days (XXVI)

A Picture of Something That Means A Lot to You

Skyler Barnhart. Pretty much the cutest and well-behaved dog out there. I’ve only had her for around two weeks, but I’m already in love with her. It’s great taking her out to pee and having someone else up when I get up at 4:30 to go to work. When I get home she jumps up onto me and gives me resplendent kisses, and then when I prop my tired feet up in the lounge chair she crawls right up in there with me. She’s no lap dog, either. We go to the park and I take her to play fetch and she loves it. I’m her favorite and she follows me around the house. And she’s cute as hell. 

30 Days (XXV)

A Picture of Something

You Wish You Could Change

At once both my most beloved quality and that which plagues me: my social awkwardness. "I love to take you out in public just to see what happens," my little sister told me the other day. There's a website called "Awkward Social Penguin" (from which I grabbed this picture), and basically if you go through it, every single snapshot is something I do on a daily basis. I chose this one because it's something that happened very recently. I went to Kroger to buy some groceries--you know, eggs and milk, bread, some canned foods--along with some hygienic goods. I miscounted my items and stood in line and then looked down and realized that I had eleven. My heart started racing and my eyes darted all around and my pulse quickened and fear tore through me. I didn't know whether to slide out of line--but then I'd have to make it legit, go back in the aisles for five minutes or so and buy something else--or just hope the cashier wouldn't notice. But what if she did notice? Would she say something? Embarrass me in front of the entire? Would I have to discard an item? Would she think I'm weird? Yeah, she would. Everyone does. So I waited in line and set my basket down when it was my turn and tried to act normal (which just ends up with me being the complete opposite of normal) and refused to make eye contact. She tried to initiate conversation but I just said a few words and stood there awkwardly looking down at the scanner as she swiped the goods. Relief flooded through me when she gave me my total and didn't say anything and as I left I thought to myself, "I dodged that bullet."

Mandy and my little sister told me that "Abort Mission" is something that should go off in my head whenever I speak. I say the most awkward and inappropriate things sometime. Some people stare at me in disbelief, maybe shake their heads. Most don't respond because they don't know how. But my good friends--Dylan and Tyler, for instance; and everyone in Cincinnati--love it, even if they mock me for it. And if I try to be normal for a time--I remember attempting to be normal for a week a few years ago--I fail miserably, and just get bored. I wish I could have all the great quirks of my weirdness without the social leprosy it sometimes causes. Oh well.

30 Days (XXIV)

A Picture of Your Day

Does it get any better than this?
Yes. I think it does.

intermission (2): love wins?

Rob Bell's new book "Love Wins" has been talked about day in and day out for the past couple weeks. His online promos make us ask, "What in the world is he going to say about heaven and hell?" Now, I haven't read the book yet (and doubt I will; don't have the palate for the guy), but from what I've gathered from excerpts, critiques, praises and condemnations, and from interviews with Rob Bell (as from the clip above), Bell buys into universalism. As much as he may deny it, the key point is there: God's love will win out, and people will respond to him in faith, even in death. Lots of people are loving this book, but lots of people--if not more people--are condemning it as heresy. My thoughts?

I'm no universalist. At all. There's no scriptural warrant for it. There’s an old mantra that goes: “Where scripture speaks, we speak; where scripture is silent, we conjecture.” I’m a fan of speculation as much as the next person, but speculation is fruitless without any bounds within which to speculate. At that point it becomes fanciful imagination. What I perceive Bell to be doing is fanciful imagining. He speculates, as do we all; but he does so outside the bounds of what scripture teaches. Scripture teaches hell. There’s no way around that. And scripture teaches that once you die, then comes judgment—no breath of postmortem opportunities for salvation. There’s life, and our choices and decisions in life affect our eternal destiny. Once the candle’s snuffed, the seal has been made. While I may be a bit heretical in my annihilationist perception of hell, at least there’s scriptural warrant for that; but what Bell is proposing—that all people, eventually, will be saved through Christ, won over by God’s love, thus leaving hell empty—is not just unsupported in the scriptures but flatly denied in the scriptures. And if we abandon the scriptures, and just go wild with our speculative and imaginative theology, there’s no limit to where we’ll go or what we’ll find. Good theology must have boundaries; and though the postmodern denies such a thing, that’s just the way it is (my modernist tendencies shine brightly here). Christians are free to come to their own conclusions via theological matters, but in my opinion they must come to such conclusions within the bounds of what the bible teaches. To do otherwise is to leap into uncharted and dangerous waters.

Another key point Bell makes is that of postmortem evangelism. He doesn’t say everyone goes to heaven when they die (a far liberal universalist position) but that people do go to hell, but during their stay there, God wins them over with his love. Once again, the New Testament is clear: after death, all that awaits us is judgment. There’s no second chance. Bell presumably works off a vague passage in 1 Peter, throwing context out the window and running with one interpretation and then wrapping all other eschatological passages around his specific understanding of this vague and obscure text. It’s one of the most common hermeneutical fallacies.

Some people call me heretical. They’ll jokingly call me a liberal. It’s ridiculous, really: I’m quite orthodox—sola scriptura all the way—and though I do hold some minority views on things, I hold them because I am convinced by scripture as a whole—“Let scripture interpret scripture”: don’t build a theology off a handful of verses, but read everything in greater degrees of contextual scope—and not because I just want to believe them. There are doctrinal things I want to believe in: eternal security, pre-millennialism (it’d be cool to speculate within that arena), and even Bell’s universalism. But I simply cannot, in good conscience, hold to them because the scriptures, in my understanding of them, do not warrant such a view. What we find in Bell, I think, is speculative theology wrapped in pretty lace that the immature and unsuspecting will swallow whole—and lots of people are gobbling it up. And it makes me wonder why. Because it makes sense? Because it’s scripturally valid? Because it sheds light on other things? Hell no. It’s swallowed up because it’s easy, because it’s comfortable, because it doesn’t make us worry about things. It makes it easy to “rest in God’s love” while simultaneously living a life of rebellion because we’re banking on his love to cover up our downright, obstinate disobedience. But I digress. Good night.

intermission: amanda's 22nd

Amanda turned 22 yesterday. I worked till noon and then ran down to Cincinnati. Amanda and I spent some one-on-one time together, and then we joined Blake for an outing at Rock Bottom Brewery. Our waitress kept cracking "That's What She Said" jokes, so we tipped her well. Blake got the Mac & Cheese; Ams got a pepperoni pizza; and I had the nachos. Blake exclaimed, "Man, none of us got anything alcoholic to drink!" I guess no one (surprisingly) felt like drinking. We returned to the Claypole House and Gambill joined us and we played some video games and crowded the sofas, then went upstairs with Mandy for a while. We turned up some Florence & The Machine and everyone was tired so we all just fell asleep sprawled about the room. I woke up and rubbed my eyes and went downstairs to smoke a cigarette with Amos on the front porch, and then Rob made a French Press (this was around 1:00 AM) and we shared some cups and then I returned home. 

It's kind of weird that Amanda is 22. I'm her older brother, and I'm glad I treat her as an adult, rather than crowding her life. Our friendship is afire and we respect one another, and I think that makes our relationship all the more better. Not that I don't look after her, or step in when I think I should step in; and she does the same for me (did it just the other day, in fact, pointing out some things in my life that need a second glance). Regardless, I'm so glad she's my sister, and I'm glad we're friends with the same people for the most part (truth be told, she steals my friends; and though sometimes I make a pretend fuss about it, I'm glad she does, because it's great to hang out with all them and her at the same time). I'm confident our friendship will continue till the day we die. Even if she went psycho and killed someone, I'd visit her in prison as much as I could. Because she's that awesome. 

Now to do some writing.

And then to curl up with Sky.

And then to go to bed.

30 Days (XXIII)

A Picture of Your Favorite Book

No surprise my current favorite book is by N.T. Wright. "What St. Paul Really Said" is remarkable by all accounts. Wright does an excellent job at showing how the very word "gospel" in Hebrew and pagan contexts comes together into a theopolitical message about YHWH, the God of Israel, who is King of the World as opposed to Caesar. Many of the churchy terms we Christians like to throw around in everyday speech--"the gospel," "the kingdom of God," "salvation," "peace on earth," "justification," even "faith", amongst others--are Greek words that Christians incorporated into their understanding of Messiah and what he did, bearing well in mind that the words themselves were political in nature. It's no small wonder that the early Christians were often accused of being subversive to the Empire. All that is just in the beginning of this small book; Wright also touches on his understanding of "justification" (it's more of an introduction than anything; he goes head-on with the topic in his book creatively-titled "Justification"). The final chapters have to do with Paul's message to the Jews contrasted with his message to the pagans. Overall it's a great book with a great many topics, giving an introduction of sorts to Wright's understanding of Pauline studies. 

intermission: what a year so far

Let's see what 2011 has brought us so far. Uprising and overthrow of an Egyptian regime. Spreading unrest in the Middle East, burgeoning unrest in China. Japan's worst national disaster since Hiroshima and Nagasaki: 10,000 dead at this point with nuclear meltdowns and spreading radiation that will continue to kill long after the ground settles and the waters recede. Amidst all this, you have the nutty evangelical doom-sayers leaping up and down, pointing at the tragedies and shouting for joy that Jesus is returning soon. It makes me sick.

All that's happened is awful. But it's nothing new. Because we're in the middle of it right now, it seems so much bigger than everything else that's preceded it. Every year there are countless disasters and tragedies, and every year some hard-ass Christians take it as a sign that Jesus' second coming is quite literally just around the bend. You'd think that year after year and decade after decade of different disasters and over-the-top eschatological predictions, there'd be a bit of humility (or at least hesitancy) in declaring Jesus' imminent return. Last year I watched a documentary about premillennial expectations, about Jesus' coming in the very near future. The documentary covered a span of twenty years in the lives of various Christians and their eschatological hopes. What I remember the most is how at one point, one of the interviewees said she was sure Jesus would return before she had kids; then she was sure, several years later, that Jesus would come back before her kids reached high school; then ten more years, and she was sure Jesus would make his appearance before her kids graduated college; and then before her kids got married, and then before they had kids... It just stuck out to me because I wondered if she realized what was happening. Each disaster, each tragedy, each political unfolding convinced her Jesus' return was on the brink. And each time it appeared to be a "false alarm." Yet the prophecies and convictions continue, and they'll continue, and they'll continue, until--out of the blue--Jesus returns. Perhaps instead of getting all excited about these tragedies we should get down on our knees and pray for God's healing and mercy, God's restorative power, pray for flowers to emerge from the ashes, for God's kingdom to advance in the darkest and most shadowy sectors of our world.

Don't get me started on all the Jerusalem hype. This unrest in the Middle East has gotten more than a few people all up in arms about Jerusalem, as if the city and her temple were more important than anything else in Christian history. It's as if we fail to realize that the city and her temple were signposts to the Real Deal, the Messiah, and Christ took the place of the Temple and performed the functions of the Temple, and the Temple came under God's judgment; Jerusalem and the Temple have their place in Christian history, but it's not the place warranted them by many: they're redundant, symbolic graveyards. They've had their time. And as to Jerusalem's destruction being a sign of Jesus' coming, YES. I agree. But I also believe that it's already happened. Judgment already befell Jerusalem in A.D. 70. The city refused her Messiah and God judged her accordingly; vindication took place, but it wasn't the vindication of the Jews but the vindication of Christ and all his people. I guess what I'm saying is that all this focus and fascination on Jerusalem has no real warrant in the New Testament. Jerusalem's mentioned negatively again and again, except for the New Jerusalem, which is eschatological and spiritual in scope and discontinuous with the actual physical city of Jerusalem as it was then and now. Only when we do hermeneutical injustice to the texts can we build up some sort of eschatology that puts Jerusalem and the Temple in the center of it all.

I don't know where this post came from. I was going to write about brake problems with my car, adventures with Skyler, enjoying some time at home with Amanda. But instead this poured forth. Forgive me if my tone comes off as arrogant or blustered; that's not my intention. I'm not good at conveying tone on paper (see the post preceding this), and many of my closest friends hold to convictions which I don't share. Nevertheless, it's not a barrier to our friendship, toward our comraderie, towards our love for one another in Christ. Ultimately these matters are "non-essentials": in the early church, for example, there was no real consensus regarding when Jesus would come back or how it'd come about (though everyone agreed with what would happen when he did: resurrection, judgment--damnation or vindication--, and the recreation of the cosmos). The early church fathers encouraged individual Christians to come to their own conclusions but to co-exist in love and harmony, not letting these things come between them. Although I can be quite... domineering... in my attitude toward eschatological things, don't be persuaded that I loathe everyone who disagrees. Absolutely not the case. Besides, every group of friends needs a heretic to keep things interesting.

30 Days (XXII)

A Picture of Something

You Wish You Were 

Better At

I'm a good writer. Or at least a decent one. I'm never wholly content with what I write, and I can point out all the flaws more than anyone. They say writers are always more critical of their own work than others, and that those who proclaim their literature to be "amazing" are experts at self-deception, and their writing is probably not worth a damn. I enjoy writing both fiction and non-fiction, and the rules of both are wildly different. Nevertheless, I wish I were better at articulating my thoughts on paper; and, even more so, I wish I were better at articulating my thoughts in person. Sometimes when I'm engaged in discussions on important subjects, I find myself stammering through a slew of disconnected words and phrases, mumbling incoherent gibberish while trying to explain myself. I often receive cock-eyed stares and lots of "uh-huhs" acknowledging the other person doesn't understand but wants to be sympathetic. Often I'll get frustrated and just write it out, and then they're like, "Oh, okay, that makes sense now." I can utilize figures of speech and writing styles to convey a point. But, unfortunately, there's no picture that would relate to me inability to convey what I want in the way I could do it on paper. I may be a poet but I'm certainly no orator. 

30 Days (XXI)

A Picture of Something You Want to Forget

There’s nothing I want to forget. Yes, at times, there were memories which plagued me with such intensity, that the only thing I desired was a life free of their clutch. Reliving those memories day in and day out brought such pain and overwhelming heartache that I felt stagnant, unmoving, listless. A feather stuck in a windless ocean. But unbeknownst to me, those traumatizing moments carved me into something different. More mature. More present to the moment. Thankful for all that happened. There are good memories and there are bad memories, but all are etched into the fabric of my life, and all have affected me and spurred my own personal evolution into the person I am now. If I forget the bad memories, then what am I left with? Only nostalgia of the good times. There will be no thankfulness for my current state-of-affairs. There’s nothing I want to forget. 

intermission: birthday extravaganzas

My 24th birthday was this past Tuesday, and I celebrated Monday with my closest friends down in Cincinnati. Mandy made some delicious pasta, and Gambill asked off work so he could come. We had a great time just hanging out. Drinking beer. Smoking the hookah. Sharing love and laughter. Tuesday morning I had breakfast and coffee at The Anchor with Sarah, and then I returned home to enjoy my prime birthday gift: Skyler!

She's four years old, a German Shepherd-Boxer mix (and I suspect there's a bit of husky in there, too, the way she curls her tail). Absolutely adorable. She's a machine when it comes to playing fetch. She'll do it for hours without taking a single breath. Wednesday Jessica and I took her to Stubb's Park in the rain and Sky went crazy. It was pretty fun playing in the rain. Neither Jess or I had done it in years. We felt like we were kids again. Sky fell asleep in the car on the way home, and she didn't enjoy the bath I gave her--but she was rather supple about it, not a fighter. She understands that I'm in charge, which is nice. Because she's already four, she's potty-trained and doesn't go around chewing on everything she can get her paws on. She follows me around the house and climbs into my lap when I'm on the sofa or in the chair. We got her a bed and she sleeps beside me at night. Doesn't make a sound (unless she's dreaming). She's a marvelous dog, and I love her. And she's mine. Not Mom's. Not Dad's. She's mine. And, I don't know, but having full ownership over something alive, something you actually have to take care of, well, it's beautiful. I don't know. I keep sending pics of her to people, boasting about her, as if I'm a new daddy. Haha. I'm sure she'll start to annoy me soon, but in the meantime, we're living it up.

30 Days (XX)

A Picture of Somewhere You'd Love to Travel

I've already been there.
I actually took this picture there.
Ketchikan, AK. The most beautiful place in the world.
I still dream of it.

30 Days (XIX)

A Picture of You When You Were Little

30 Days (XVIII)

A Picture of Your Biggest Insecurity 

One word: my weight.
Damn it. That's two words.

30 Days (XVII)

A Picture of Something That's Made

A Huge Impact on Your Life Recently

About a year ago I read N.T. Wright's "Surprised By Hope." It's basically about eschatology, the "last things" (as they've been called) in Christian theology. The insights given on the ascension and lordship of Jesus, the 2nd coming, the resurrection of the dead, all of these were fantastic. He's extremely conservative when it comes to his "end time" chronology, basically adhering to the major tenets of Christian thought without becoming bogged down in millennialist undertows. The "life-changing" aspect of the book, however, comes in the second half. In the first half (if I remember correctly) he espouses doctrine. In the second half, he puts this doctrine into practice. It's the tension between orthodoxy and orthoproxy, and he pulls off this tension quite well. Of course I'm oversimplifying the book's outline, but nevertheless, he brought Vos' "Now but Not Yet" understanding of christology into the realm of history, and he locates our Christian living--both individually and communally--within this framework. Reading this book has helped me, in varying degrees, to live an "eschatologically-focused" life. It's given new meaning to the terms "hope," "endurance," "faith," and "love." It's impact on my life isn't seen so much in how I approach different elements of theology but how I perceive my life and those things that happen in my life. My entire approach to life itself, my entire approach to myself period, has been drastically altered by this fascinating book.

intermission: an end, a beginning

February is over. The shortest month of the year that feels the longest. And all because of the damned cold and snow. We had a few nice days, foretastes, and I'm hearing this weekend will be good. Lots of rain, which is better than snow; and thunderstorms, which I adore; and mild temperatures. Even up into the sixties. Yes, please. February was a pretty good month, not least because of countless trips to Cincinnati, seeing great friends and family, and spending time with Elle. Which leads to my next point.

Elle and I broke up. A mutual decision based in the realm of logic rather than emotion. I would prefer it to be one of emotion, because then my emotions would be on-board with the logical decision. We both like each other. A lot. And I sorely miss her. I hate the idea of never holding her like I did, of never kissing her lips. Absolutely hate it. But we're at different stations in life. She wants one thing out of life, I want another. No matter our affections for one another, the end result would come as one doomed. And so we made the decision to end things now. We're still friends, and I mean that genuinely. We still talk a lot, and there's no hostility or bitterness. Nostalgia, definitely--but no resentment or discord. And that's good. I selfishly wonder why she couldn't be on the same page as me when it came to life and its trimmings; an entirely selfish thought, which I shoo away. Liking someone doesn't make a relationship work, that's all we had, it's all we've got. It was a wise decision, a legitimate mutual decision--I'm reminded of Michael Scott's famous quote: "They say these things are mutual, but they never are. But this one is." Unlike the scenario in The Office, this one was mutual, attested to by the fact that our friendship has not weakened. Now we must reap the loss of one another. I miss her greatly, and she misses me. But we'll be okay.

I spent yesterday after work with some of my co-workers. We went to the hole-in-the-wall Flavor's Eatery in Centerville, browsed the Borders store going out of business by the Mall, and then went back to one of their apartments for a coffee press, much laughter, and intriguing conversation. A year ago I didn't know these people existed; now we're great friends. I feared moving back home would result in no friendships. But I've made friends, and I'm enjoying the friendships, the accountability and trust and transparency. Good friends are hard to find, and I'm either lucky or blessed or both.

Tomorrow is my last shift of the week, and I have Saturday and Sunday off. I plan on hitting up church somewhere in there, maybe grab some Chinese with another friend (or two) from work. I've had weekends off for the last several weeks, and I'm loving it. It won't last long, though: I'm back working Saturdays next week. My birthday's Tuesday, and Monday evening I'm going down to Cincinnati and Rob and Mandy are fixing me dinner, and I'm spending the night at Amanda's apartment, and Tuesday I'll be back in town. I forgot my birthday was coming up till last week, when in a store meeting, I learned that the Starbucks 40th Anniversary is March 8th, and the date sounded familiar, and it clicked. I'm an idiot. Birthdays don't mean a lot to me, and I don't know whether or not I'm getting gifts from my parents, but I really don't care. It's just another age. One step closer to death and that which lies beyond.

30 Days (XVI)

A Picture of Someone Who Inspires You

JESUS!

Ok. I couldn't think of anything off the top of my head.

There are lots of people who inspire me, people whom I look up to for various reasons. These are generally people I'm very close to. My dearest friends, my wonderful family, co-workers whom I admire. All of this is to say that I'm not the kind of person who patterns my life after one single person. We all have our good things, we all have our bad. We are all made of dust, but sometimes we have rusted gems clinging to our dirty feet. I put Jesus up to be wholly cliche, but there is some truth in the matter. I believe Jesus showed us what it looks like to live as human beings should live; he was a human person not consumed and ravaged by evil. His life shows us what it looks like to live as is fitting for genuine human beings, and we are called to conform to his image; that is, the image of genuine human personhood. Now, of course, there will be those who think that I perceive Jesus as just some great moral teacher, a cut above and beyond the rest. No, no. I believe in Jesus' humanity--to the uttermost--and his divinity as well, likewise to the uttermost. Different Christian sects tend to focus on one or the other, and lately I've been doing a lot of focusing on his human personhood; so, yes, that's where this post comes into play. 

30 Days (XV)

A Picture of Something You Want to Do
Before You Die