sleep, so precious...

Sleep is such a precious thing. I generally try to get eight hours of sleep a night, and last night I only got four. It's not that thoughts consumed me; I think it had to do with the eight shots of espresso I foolishly drank without considering the fact that, despite working at a coffee shop, I haven't had much caffeine over the last several months. I went to bed around 9:00 and didn't fall asleep till 2:00, and woke at 6:00 for work. Nevertheless, despite all this, yesterday was a good day off work. I got a lot done. Had good conversation at work with Kyle and Andrea, made a run to the library, had an amazing Subway sub, got in a good workout and drank some good beer with Dylan and Tyler later in the evening (see picture to the left). I had dinner with my friend and doctor Joe; we grabbed steaks and baked potatoes at Lone Star Steakhouse and the waitress was very cute and we talked a lot but it turns out she has a boyfriend. Oh shucks. Better luck next time. Now I'm going to work on "Re:Framing Repentance" and then go to bed. I should sleep pretty good tonight. Or at least I hope so.

one year later

It's been exactly a year since I started losing weight. I started at around 205 pounds; this morning I met my revised goal, weighing in at 135 pounds. It's my freshman college weight. It's been both difficult and easy to do this, and in all honesty, I'm surprised I accomplished it. I sought out losing weight many times before eventually getting things into gear, propelled by a fresh vision of hope for the future. I can hardly remember what it was like being 205 pounds, except for the self-image issues, some of which still remain despite me looking ten times better. I'm right at the margin between my healthy weight and being underweight, and I promised friends and family that I wouldn't go underweight, and I intend on keeping that promise. I know I'll never look skinny as a rail like some people do, because (a) my body isn't built like that--I'm of short and stocky German stock with a body shaped like a barrel, (b) my metabolism isn't too fast, (c) even my dad has a belly and he runs around twenty-thirty miles a day and is a health-nut Nazi, and (d) I like food too much. 

I'm not going to try and lose anymore weight; instead, I'm inaugurating Phase 2 of my body transformation: muscle build-up. I'm focusing on building up my arms, chest, abs, and legs. Well, basically my entire body. I've devised a pretty rigorous training schedule, which I've kept to for the last week or so. I am already detecting changes. My friend Dylan, who used to weight-lift all the time, taught me some techniques that you don't learn at the gym, techniques which are really working. Hopefully by the end of the year I can gain twenty pounds in muscle, though that may be a stretch. Nevertheless, I'm already seeing and feeling changes, and that's great. I don't build muscle like most people, in the sense that I am one of those people whose muscles more easily tone than bulk (for instance, in my arms you can see the definition and contours of every muscle), but any little bit will be good. So, as for Phase 2, in the words of the Joker: "Here. We. Go."

Westmalle Tripel: a good discovery

The other night I tried a Westmalle Abbey Trappist Tripel beer. I don't drink a lot of beer, and when I do, I like the darker stuff. This beer, let me tell you... I definitely found a winner. When I opened it, the foam overflowed the top. So I poured it into a goblet to drink. It had the scent of fruit and that nice scent of hops. It had a very "golden" yet bitter taste, which I loved. Once the foam subsided, the drink became overwhelmed with the taste of caramel. I enjoyed every minute of it, and I felt pretty good about myself when I learned that it was made by monks--or at least under the supervision of monks--in a Trappist monastery (the Westmalle abbey, to be precise). I did some research and found out that any beer labeled Trappist has the same origins, albeit often at different monasteries: there's the Achel abbey, the Chimay abbey, the Orval abbey, the Rochefort abbey, and the Westvletern abbey in addition to Westmalle. D.L.M. has most of these, and I'm sure I could find the others at specialty beer shoppes in the area. Tonight I'm going to be drinking a Westmalle dubbel with dinner (grilled chicken and potatoes). 

I have tomorrow off, which means I'll have time to knock out the remaining section(s) in my latest chapter on repentance. As a previous post implied, I'm not looking forward to writing all of this. It's very depressing. I went to a cafe the other afternoon and sat down and hammered out the script and a wave of depression came over me. Thinking about it still brings bursts of depression, especially when I know people who fall into the category of "being lost", and Mom has noticed this: "You don't seem like yourself." Once I finish the chapter, I'll probably drink a beer to celebrate, and things will get better.

randomz II

After work a bunch of us went out to eat at the Flavor's Eatery in Centerville. It's always fun to hang out with your co-workers outside the bar (as long as you like them, I guess, which I do). Today, though, I felt kinda down and quiet. On the drive home I analyzed this, as I sometimes do; and I think it's because when I am in large groups, I instinctively become reserved and reclusive. It may be part of my introversion, but it may also be due to how, when in junior high and high school, being in such situations usually led to me being made fun of and picked on. Now I don't care. I could honestly care less if people like or dislike me, and if they want to use me as fodder for their jokes, that's fine. But sometimes I wonder if the residue of those experiences--the shame, the humiliation, the shunning--still seeps through my bones, resurrecting itself at times. I don't know.

Amanda is in town for just another night. It's been great to spend time with her. I don't see her nearly as much as I would like, and I'm excited about my trip to Cincinnati in two weeks. It'll be great seeing her again, not to mention everyone else down there. I told Amanda today, "I still identify myself as a Cincinnati guy." I listen to Cincinnati music, yearn for the Cincinnati parks, reminisce on the Cincinnati memories." When I first moved down there, I couldn't stand it. "Nasty 'Nati" didn't pick up as a slang for the city for no reason. But I guess I fell in love with it. Well, maybe love isn't the word for it. But I appreciate Cincinnati now, and I miss her when I haven't driven her streets for a while.

Sometimes I have a dirty mouth. And by that I mean I make sexual jokes and such. I was raised in an environment where that wasn't frowned on, and don't take that the wrong way. My parents are two of the godliest people I know. My point is just that "course joking" hasn't held the kind of stigma for me that it holds for others. Sometime I make a joke that people find repulsive, and I'm realizing that whether or not such joking is sinful, it's unwise. So I'm working to filter everything I say, at least when around people who don't share the same lack of revulsion. 

A cold front is moving in.

Leaves are blowing everywhere.

It's nice and warm in my room.

And I'm on my way to D.L.M. for some beer.

the dayton days [38]

Ams, Blake & Tony; from last weekend

Monday. The weekend was busy, so today was pretty chill. I woke early to a flock of annoying birds perched outside my window. I French-pressed some coffee, worked on my PDPs, and had tuna for lunch while watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I worked 12-7:00 and after work Dylan & Tyler came over. We lit a fire in the backyard and Dad yelled at us: "It's too dry!"

Tuesday. I spent almost the entire day eating ice cream and watching tv. I've really gotten into Law & Order: S.V.U. It's phenomenal. I went to Starbucks for some coffee and writing and there were two lesbians there, totally all over each other. Everyone was staring, it was quite comical.

Wednesday. I burnt my hand something awful at work. I kept working because it was busy, and I won some kudos for it. It still hurts like a motherfucker though. A second degree burn, Joe says. People from work kept texting me all evening, congratulating me on staying. But it really wasn't a big deal at all. A cold front moved through. One was really big, lots of thunder and lightning, and Mom's small group girls were screaming, and Dylan & I sat on the porch and watched the electric storm while smoking our pipes. Things calmed down, and the rain brought out a tree frog. I picked it up to show Mom and everyone thought it was cute but screamed when it hopped.

Thursday. My hand throbbed all day. I picked up sushi from DLM and the cashier flirted with me again. I went by work to research some stuff for my PDP and found out a bunch of shit went down between Jessica, Faith, and Destini. "You know what this place needs?" Asenath frustratingly quipped. "Apathy?" I said. "No," she said; "Prayer." Dad & I made a trip to C.V.S. for our vices: his ice cream and my cigarettes. 

Friday. Ams wants to kick Sarah out of her apartment: some more craziness went down. Last night Ams went to bed around 1 AM and woke up around 3 to find Keith in bed with Sarah. Ams told him he had to leave, he wasn't welcome. He flipped shit but she stood her ground and said she'd call the cops. He cussed her out, screamed, "I'm going to destroy this place, you stupid bitch!" to which she said she was calling the cops. He ran at her, and Sarah jumped in the way; he grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the side, shouting, "I control you, Bitch!" He left, with Sarah who willingly went with him. This says a lot about Sarah, her own blindness as an abuse victim, the way she allows herself to be manipulated and man-handled, her constant lies. I'm THIS close to completely severing my friendship with her. I can't be friends with someone who makes selfish choices that puts my own sister at risk. 

Saturday. Ams gave Sarah an ultimatum, broke into tears doing it. Sarah has no more chances: one more fuck-up and she's out of the apartment. She said she has nowhere to go; Ams said that's not her problem, and it isn't. My sister shouldn't feel unsafe in her own apartment, which is under her name and which Sarah hasn't been paying her share towards. I closed at work, and Jessica, Destiny, and Tony got me a little post-burn present thanking me for staying on during the rush: Chipotle! Ams came up after work, didn't want to be in the apartment, and we talked about Sarah, always drama with that girl. She's giving both of us the cold shoulder and running back to her white trash drunken Hamilton friends because "they're TRUE friends."

Sunday. I got Chipotle with my present. Dylan came over and we went to some Estate sales with Ams, then got ice cream from D.Q. "Sprinkles!" We spent the evening at the house, playing Mario-Kart and smoking on the porch. We went to D.L.M., I got a trappist beer brewed by Belgian monks, how awesome! We saw Darrell Southard there. I drank my beer at the house and Dylan left. Dewenter called: his dad has a car I could take on loan once my car dies. 

re:framing repentance, part III

"Prepare to be depressed." Chapter Ten is all about the consequences of repentance, events which can be experienced for those who repent and for those who don't repent. I started off the chapter looking at the temporal and eschatological consequences for those who repent. Whenever I write or think or teach about such things, it is exciting and very hope-filled. I am happier, more outgoing, more energetic. Now that I've finished looking at those things, I am now turning my attention upon the consequences--temporal and eschatological--for those who do not repent. Whenever I write/think/teach about such things, the intensified feeling of being alive found in looking at the Christian hope becomes a dark depression of sorts. It's very gloom and doom, and there's no way around that. Even though I am more "liberal" than some when it comes to the subject--not to the point of being a universalist, mind you, nor even, perhaps, an inclusivist--I take very seriously what the scriptures teach regarding the consequences of not turning to God. It's very sad and hopeless, and it depresses me. I don't like to think about such things, but it is my responsibility as a Christian, and as the writer of this book on repentance, to tackle these things head-on and lay them out on the table. I'm not looking forward to it, and I hope to have it done by the end of the week. Then I can move on to "fresher" territory.

Other goals for this week? Finish N.T. Wright's "Climax of the Covenant" and be at 135 pounds by Friday (which will be exactly one year since I started losing weight). Amanda is in town, albeit currently sleeping. Dylan and Tyler are coming over this afternoon. I had Chipotle for breakfast--very good, as always--while watching "Law & Order: S.V.U." I even went to work for a bit and had four shots of espresso over ice. The perfect start to my day off work. Now I'm going to do some reading, maybe some writing, clean the house a bit. It's a beautiful Sunday, it's my day off work, and I want to sap it for all it's worth. Tomorrow my week begins again with a 6-2:30 shift.

my new addiction

Well, it's not really new. I've always loved Subway. This week I ate there four times. I always get the same thing. Foot-long turkey on Italian, no cheese and not toasted, with lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, green peppers, banana peppers, onions, jalapeños, and a little bit of lite mayonnaise. Sometimes I'll even get a bag of Sunchips with it. I always take it home and watch my tv shows while I watch (lately I've been watching "Law & Order: S.V.U., Season One"). The best thing is that it's not even that unhealthy. The mayonnaise isn't the best, but it's light, and I only get a little bit. The fat content is pretty much bare minimum. It's the best thing to eat before going to work, because it's filling, and I don't find myself snacking on every little thing I can get my hands on. Speaking of work, I need to go do that right now... 

Amanda is coming into town for a few days.

Understandable seeing what happened two nights ago.

It'll be good to see her and to hang out.

Dylan and Tyler are coming over tomorrow. Pipe club? I think yes.