slow in coming...

Posts this month have been slow in coming, I can't deny it. Between reading, modeling, playing video games, hanging out with Mo, and working, I hardly have time to post anymore. Not that I'm leaving much out: I pretty much updated you on my life in a mere sentence. Nonetheless, I feel like a few updates might be noteworthy.

Mo & I. We're back together, and it's been going good. We've talked about a lot of our differences, the compromises we need to make, etc. We're trying it out, and it can be rough at times, but relationships are like that. Perhaps my own pie-in-the-sky romanticizing of relationships has made me uncomfortable in that relationship territory where you share your life with someone to the point that it's beyond dates and conversations to the sharing of the most mundane details of life. She's a wonderful woman, and everyone agrees. For once my sister and friends approve of one of my girlfriends without it being pity approval.

Studies. I've continued plowing through colonial American history, and just this week I wrapped up a study of the 13 British colonies (the famous ones; there were others, of course, like East and West Florida, colonies in Canada, etc. at the time of the Revolution; not ALL colonies rebelled, just most of them along the eastern American seaboard). Next up is a study of the political history of the colonies up to 1754, then a study of the French & Indian War followed by a few weeks researching the ins-and-outs of those events and attitudes that led up to the Revolution. Then the really fun stuff begins: an in-depth study of the American Revolutionary War, focusing on the major campaigns, battles, and characters. I know it doesn't sound as exciting to you as it does to me, but I don't care: I'm ecstatically thrilled.

Journals. As a past-time I've been doing Weekly Recaps for all the years of this blog. It's quite simple, seeing as I have journal entries dating from long before 2004 (when I first started this blog). It's a fun little exercise, jogging memories and feelings, seeing how my life's panned out. I've been working backwards in time, starting with what I've dubbed "The Dayton Days": my time at my parents' house in Centerville between the Lehman House and Claypole Avenue. Reading through these journals, transcribing them onto this blog, has been a sort of learning experience for me; or, rather, a re-learning of sorts. To be honest, these past several months, even this past year, has been riddled with all sorts of anxieties and fears. Everything was so clear before 2012, and I'm still trying to pick up the pieces. A lot happened, to be sure, but there are a few things that stand out in my mind as catalysts for this uncertain ambiguity that's befallen my life, an ambiguity marked best by those feelings of lostness, worry, and constant fretting. It's taken a toll on me physically and mentally, and I believe I may have pinpointed the ultimate source. The future road could be hard, but it's one of those things that, I'm learning, must be done, despite the difficulties: my life is, to a certain extent, in my hands, and if I wish to recapture the joy, peace, and purpose of those former days, changes need to happen, even if those changes won't be met with hugs and smiles all around. But such is the nature of things at times.

Okay. There's a brief update for you.

Also: my USS Constitution model is coming along nicely.

"That's gonna look badass," Isaac exclaimed.

Sure, so long as I don't break it before I finish it. Time will tell.

the 7th week

the happy hollow inn

Monday. Work was difficult knowing I wouldn't be seeing Mo, and Monday night was even lonelier. John & Brandy couldn't stay up late, so they just swung by Park Avenue in replacement of Monday Nights. After they left, the rest of us--Blake, Traci, Amos, Isaac, Ams and I--went to the Happy Hollow. At this rate, it could be our next Cheers. "If you have a group of six or more, the bar turns into your own private party!"

Tuesday. I went to The Anchor before closing with Frank. We were out by 4:10 and joined Isaac, Ams, Amos and Brandon over at Rock Bottom for beers and din-din. I had a Long Island Iced Tea (too much beer hurts my stomach) and their MASSIVE chicken fried chicken. I couldn't finish it. We meandered up Vine Street to Amos' place for an evening of video games with Johnny. "Brandy's in 87 degree Florida right now!" he moaned. But at least the biting chill of last week has receded. We hit the upper fifties today. It felt balmy.

Wednesday. I worked 6:30-8:30, covering a gap in the schedule, and after some time at The Anchor and a trot to the bank, I started on my U.S.S. Constitution model. Ams came over for a bit to do homework, and Isaac and I hit up the Happy Hollow and then watched a documentary on the Lost Fleet off Guadalcanal.

Thursday. Mo and I got back together. We "met up" (read: she parked and we walked across the street) at the Happy Hollow. Yes, we have our differences; yes, we have our concerns; but no, that doesn't mean we should just give up, it doesn't mean I should give up. So we're giving it another shot, putting more effort into the relationship, trying to compromise and sacrifice to make things work. Mo is so awesome, so fucking awesome, and it's incredible that she finds something of worth in a regret-laden, issue-soaked koala like me.

Friday. The roads were slick this morning, three inches of snow falling overnight. I worked 6:30-1:30, and Ams came over in the evening and we grabbed dinner at the Chinese Buffet down the street. It was surprisingly good, what with it being a grotty hole-in-the-wall joint (but I tend to like such places). I went to The Anchor to study the Dutch Empire in the 1600s, and the evening was spent at the Happy Hollow with Blake, Traci, Isaac & Andy. Mo was supposed to come but couldn't make it. We shot rum in honor of the famous pirate Henry Morgan and then headed back to the house where John (Isaac's brother) and his pal Audrey were hanging out. People filtered out, and Isaac & I watched some of Ken Burns' The War, all about WW2. Ken Burns is a beast.

Saturday. More snow fell overnight. I braved the roads yet again for coffee at The Anchor, and Ams & I met up at Dusmesh for lunch. The afternoon was quiet: reading and modeling. Mo came over, and Isaac joined us for drinks at Habits Cafe in Hyde Park. It's also known as Ostrich Cafe.

Sunday. Another snowy day. Mo & I planned on going to church at U.C.C., but morning plans changed when my car wouldn't start. The culprit: the damned subzero temperatures and a shitty battery. It'd been in the Celica since the turn of the century! I replaced it, and it seems to be working now. Mo & I got lunch at Cancun Mexico, and she went to study and I went to The Anchor. Back home Isaac & Ams made a kick-ass panini dinner, and Mo came over and we watched more Ken Burns (the North African campaign, bombing raids over Germany, the invasion of Italy... It's so good!). We also watched some "Bob's Burgers," also and always a classic.

02/03/13

University Christian Church is kicking off a 9-week study called "Because He First Loved Us," focusing on God's love for us, what that means for us, and how we're to respond to it. I'm really excited about it, and for the handful (and that's a liberal estimate) of people who might enjoy reading the notes I take from the sermons (as I'm an avid note-taker), I'm including them on here. The series focuses on 1 John 4, and I almost put it on this page in block text but decided it'd just take up too much room. Biblegateway it if you care. Okay, here's the recap from the first sermon.

1 John 4.16-21 is striking: it flat-out tells us that Christians have no fear of the final judgment, not because of anything we've done, but solely because of God's love for us. While a lot of us, most notably myself, struggle with the concept of judgment, the idea that God must punish rebellion and evil, including that which is in our own hearts and lives, such a struggle, and dare I say it fear, runs contrary to what the scriptures tell us. There is no fear in judgment. Judgment itself is a good thing, a beautiful thing; the psalmist portrays judgment as God restoring the world to its original goodness. Judgment is a purging, as if with fire, of all that has marred God's good creation. There is, of course, a negative side to judgment, but negative only from the perspective of those who warrant it. Christians, however, needn't fear the judgment, and if we understand forgiveness (and I mean really understand it), then we can perceive ourselves as we truly are and approach God with confidence, for God's perfect love casts out all fear.

When it comes to the gospel, there are at least two wrong approaches to it: arrogance and self-rejection. The spectrum traps us, leaving us with wither an inappropriate low view of ourselves or an inappropriately high view of ourselves. The spectrum colors our perception of the gospel. The one end of the spectrum, self-rejection, sees the gospel as pointing out all our flaws and failures, and we're left trying to make ourselves good enough, or we see that we can never be good enough and just stop trying altogether. On the other end of the spectrum, we may be arrogant enough to assume that the gospel, revolving around God's love for us, is a validation of our true selves, God approving who we are, not just the good but also the bad. But with arrogance, the answers to life's questions, like purpose and meaning, are left answerable only to ourselves.

The solution to self-rejection and arrogance is truly understanding forgiveness. Anthony Jones, who preached the sermon, brought to the spotlight that famous passage from Isaiah, written 700 years before Jesus. Up to the passage, Isaiah had been saying to corrupt and rebellious Israel, "You've been wicked and rotten, and you have to be judged!" But then come Isaiah 52.13-53.12, and Isaiah's tone changes: "Yes, you need to be judged. But though you are faithless, God is faithful, and He'll do something crazy to bring about redemption." The Christian reading of the passage sees Christ through-and-through. Christ's suffering is vicarious and substitutionary: he suffers for rebellious Israel and, in a wider lens, all of humanity. His suffering is our suffering, our due, placed on him by God. But before we see God as a sadist subjecting his own son to such a trial, let's not forget that Christ willfully submitted to it: he wasn't exactly thrilled to be tortured and executed, but he was still DTF. He didn't do it unwillingly, his hand wasn't forced. The purpose of this suffering is, according to Isaiah, that of a guilt offering: Jesus becomes a scapegoat for our sins, but we must adopt him as our guilt offering, we must embrace the fact that he sacrificed himself, weighed down by our own guilt, to carry our burden to the cross so he could finally, and fully, deal with it.

Because of our waywardness, rebellion, and wickedness, if God must be just, someone has to pay for the transgression and sin. That's OUR responsibility, of course. We're the ones who've muddied our hands, and bloodied them in some instances, and justice demands that we pay the price for the crimes we committed. No one can deny that's fair. But there's a kink in the machine, and it's quite simply God's love. God isn't some arbitrary Judge, disconnected from those standing guilty before him. He's overwhelmed with love for his rebellious subjects, and precisely because of that love, not out of obligation or duty, he wants to be reunited with us. And so he pay for our sins in Christ so that (a) justice is done and (b) we can be reunited with God.

It's simple, so fucking simple, but yet we get hung up, time and time again, on that little divine attribute called wrath. God isn't wrathful in spite of love, but because of love. An all-loving God must be wrathful (note: wrath isn't simply anger, but a righteous anger bent on putting things to rights). If God isn't wrathful, if he isn't discomforted in the least by evil and if he has no real aim to fix the problems that sprout up in his created world, then he can't really be loving. You've gone from Christian theism to deism, and you might as well go straight to atheism to be consistent. Justice and love are entwined, you don't get one without the other. God will make people pay for their evil. He doesn't just shrug it off. Our refusal to take ownership of our evil prevents us from seeing the extent of God's love and responding with gratefulness. Really, we need to truly see just how far in debt we are to God to understand God's love, grace, and mercy, and the price he paid to redeem us. If we're mostly good after all, then the cross is more like a silver lining. But if we're wholly corrupt, or even mostly evil, then the cross is a big damned deal. We can't appreciate what God has done if we don't see how sinful, wretched, and in debt to God we really are.

Understanding wrath tears at the fabric of arrogance, but it seems to lay yet another foundation for self-rejection. How do we get out of self-rejection and arrogance? By truly understanding (a) how shitty we are, and (b) what God has done for us. Because of forgiveness and redemption, we stand before God not simply as "forgiven sinners" but as redeemed human beings (if our primary identity as Christians is "forgiven," then how forgiven are we really?). All our accumulated debt has been wiped out, and we stand before God redeemed, whole, bathing in his love and grace, standing in favor as a child of God. 

Christianity isn't about being a good person, or an introspective person, but being a forgiven person and, consequently, a redeemed person. 

And, yeah, that's pretty damned liberating.

the 6th week

I've decided to keep these chronicles going, and this will probably be the hardest one I've written so far. Life without Mo has been rough, and recounting our last days together doesn't promise to lift my mood at all. I'm thankful that I have friends to help me through this rough decision and the unfortunate consequences, namely her not sharing in my life anymore. I promised not to turn this into a drama, and I'm sticking to that.

MLK Day. I had the day off, and I'm not even black! I went to Mom & Dad's, and Dad and I had a fire in the backyard with snow falling all around. We examined my car, found the exhaust leak that's been making my car smell acrid all the time. A $200 part, we ordered it and will replace it this weekend. Mom fed me some homemade chicken and dumplings, and I headed home amidst blustery snow showers. Interstate 75 was shut down from a massive car pileup due to the snow creating whiteout conditions. There were few injuries, but a 12-year-old girl was killed. She stepped out of her car and got hit by a passing car. Learning that made me feel sick. I don't deal well with the deaths of children. I took back-roads home, and Mo came over for a bit, and Blake came home from an extended weekend in Mason, and I met his girlfriend Traci. They're like carbon copies, so of course she's pretty cool. We headed over to Amos' and watched a movie called "The Room." Don't see it.

Tuesday. I worked 6:30-2:00. Ana called off sick, so lunch was crazy. Eric and I sat down, and he went over some actual Assistant Store Manager duties. Up to this point, I told him, "Assistant Store Manager has essentially been a made-up title." The cold was fierce today, and I spent the evening bundled up at home watching episodes of The West Wing with Ams. She headed home, and I watched a provocative documentary called "The World Without US", about what would happen if the USA brought all its troops from around the world home. Basically all hell would break loose.

Wednesday. I worked 6:30-1:30 and spent the afternoon hanging out with Mo, Isaac, and Ams. We watched the movie "Stake Land" and did some collective storytelling. Mo and Ams left and Isaac went to bed, and I did some light reading before passing out: The First Battle at Bull Run.

Thursday. I covered Ana's F.P. shift. Today was, in Amos' words, "Let's Get Fucked Day": a skeleton crew, insanely busy because of the cold, and two impromptu catering orders absent Mears. But we survived. I didn't get home till about 4:00, and I did some reading and finished laundry before spending some time at The Anchor. I jetted to Clifton to spend the evening with Amos and John, playing video games and watching stand-up comedians while dining on delivery pizza. 

Friday. By far the most difficult day of the week, and the most difficult of the year thus far. Mo and I broke up, and it was hard as hell. After it happened Ams came over to be with me, and when Blake and Isaac found out they invited me to Lebanon and Clifton for drinks. Being exhausted and certainly not in the mood for socializing, I was passed out by 9:30.

Saturday. I didn't sleep much last night, for obvious reasons. I went to The Anchor and then headed up to Dayton. Dad and I forsook the expensive part for a jerry-rigged patch over the leaking exhaust pipe. It cost $15 rather than $200, and the hope is that it actually works (so far, so good). It took us about five hours, and when we wrapped up I hurried back down to Cincinnati for an impromptu going-away dinner with Emily and Gabe. Isaac fixed a dish of chicken, asparagus, and potatoes, and we shot zombies on the Wii and watched "Jon Benjamin Has A Van." Josh and Ams were there, too, and they brought some hard cider. People filtered out, and Isaac's brother John came by. We went across the street to the Happy Hollow Inn, the definition of a dive bar, grotty with dim lighting. But the drinks are cheap and it's pretty chill, so I liked it. Isaac bought us a round, and a fellow named Doug at the end of the bar bought a round for us, since we're neighbors right across the street. 

Sunday. I went to The Anchor and then hurried up to Dusmesh for my Sunday Stuffing with Andy, Isaac, and Ams. I napped back home and went to The Anchor yet again, and the evening was spent hanging out with Isaac, Blake, and Traci: we went to the Happy Hollow Inn and had a series of shots, and then we all went back to the house and promptly went to bed.

1/25/13

Mo and I broke up. One of the hardest things I've ever had to do. It has nothing to do with her, she's amazing. The unfortunate reality is that sometimes things don't line up precisely as you'd hoped. This is yet another reason to avoid dating altogether: most of the time, in the end, you get hurt, or, worse, you hurt someone else. I never meant to cause any harm, and I care for her deeply. I've decided not to turn this into some dramatic spectacle for my blog. Yes, there is pain; yes, I have much I want to say; but this is one of those things that's best left to my journal. Suffice it to say, this has been a difficult week and though I know that the decision was the wisest one given the circumstances, it doesn't make it any easier. 

I've decided, in lieu of this, to stop the weekly updates that cover every detail of my life. As much as I might enjoy chronicling my life, there's a better place to do it than on a blog open to the public. I'll still be sharing all the adventures of my life, so expect at least three posts a month, as those are the number of "adventures" I usually have in that allotment of time. 

the 5th week

Monday. I've come down with an awful cold, but I'm not complaining: when everyone else seems to be catching the flu, a cold isn't half bad. I went to The Anchor before closing with Frank, and then I headed over to Amos' to spend the evening hanging out with the usual Monday Night crew. I didn't stay too long: I went home early to get in some NyQuil and The West Wing before crashing early. Sneezes, sneezes, sneezes: that's really 'bout all I did today.

Tuesday. Eric started training as Store Manager today. It'll be good to work with him. I worked 6:30-2:30. The sneezes were gone, replaced with a nose leaking like a loose faucet. I went through a whole box of tissues by the end of my shift. I went to The Anchor after work, and Mo came over for a bit before heading out to see her dad, who's in town. Isaac and I watched The West Wing for a bit, and then I went to bed.

Wednesday. Another opening shift that went smoother than yesterday: my nose isn't running so much, but I felt "off" most of the day. I took a nap after work, and then Ams came over. We hung out for most of the evening, and I went to Kroger for cottage cheese & club crackers. Mo came over, too, and the three of us plus Corey burnt incense and talked late into the night.

Thursday. I covered Ana's F.P. shift. I was still feeling sickly so I cancelled Thursday night hang-out with Johnny and the Gang. Instead I changed into my pajamas straightaway and spent most of the evening watching The West Wing, trying to catch up with Ams. Mo came over and we watched Inception with Corey, plus an interesting documentary on lucid dreaming. 

Friday. I went to The Anchor before closing with Frank. Today was Brandon's "last day" as manager: he's stepped down and will be working counter shifts with Corey at Carew. I went to Ams' place to see her and Roxy, who's been shitting blood and vomiting all over the place. I headed home, got stuck in traffic with a splitting headache, and felt sick by the time I got home. Mo came over to comfort me. We watched some West Wing and she tucked me in before leaving, and I passed out.

Amos' 28th Birthday. I woke feeling quite refreshed and happy: refreshed, because I took a much-needed shit in the middle of the night; and happy, because I woke to find Mo sleeping on the sofa. She'd gone out for a pub crawl with friends in Mt. Adams and came over to my place around 4 A.M. just because she wanted to see me. Of course I was sleeping, so she just curled up on the sofa and waited for me to wake. Being Amos' birthday, he and I grabbed Dusmesh for lunch with Ams and Corey, and then we spent the afternoon gaming with John and Brandy. Mo, Ams, Corey and I hung out back at the apartment. Mo left to study at the hospital, and I went to The Anchor to study Puritanism and the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. 

Sunday. I woke and went to The Anchor. Mo came over, and we grabbed coffee downtown at Carew. I bid Emily farewell, since it was her last shift: she and Gabe are moving down to Florida, just twelve miles outside Disneyland (or Disneyworld? I always get the two confused). Mo took me out to lunch at her favorite restaurant, Duchess in Hydpe Park. It was pretty amazing: I had a beer paired with a portabello mushroom sandwich and pasta. She went off to study at the hospital and I showered in preparation for Game Night at the Loth House, but I fell asleep instead. That's okay, since Game Night didn't happen. I woke groggy, watched a few episodes of The West Wing with Isaac (finished Season 2), and when Blake got back from his weekend with Traci we played Black Ops on his PS3.

mind. blown.

Look familiar? It's the world, of course, the map we've always known. Known as the Mercator map, it was designed for the specific purpose of navigation, not for portraying the world in an accurate size, shape, and distance ratio. The straight lines on the Mercator map represent lines of constant compass bearing, and distortions of size, shape, and relative distance were distorted for the ease of navigation. If a navigator in the 17th century wanted to sail from England to New England, all he'd have to do is draw a line between the two locations, and he'd know which compass direction to sail to reach his destination. Never intended as a wall map, it nevertheless grew in popularity as an accurate representation of our world. Critics pointed out the distortions, and in 1973 German historian and journalist Arno Peters came out with a new map that, he said, fixed some of these problems: although failing to be an "accurate" map in the sense that no rectangular, one-dimensional map can represent accurately a spherical object, it nonetheless brings clarity to the relative size and shapes of the different landmasses.

It looks different, doesn't it? It's almost an entirely different way of looking at the world. Although not without its flaws, this map does bring to light some of the problems with the Mercator map. Take Greenland, for example. In the Mercator projection, Greenland and China look the same size; but China is almost four times as large! Not to harp on Greenland, but again: in the Mercator map, Greenland seems to be about the same size as Africa, yet Africa's landmass is actually fourteen times larger. The Peters projection seeks to remedy this problem, and its most outspoken advocates add a political twist: the Mercator projection, they claim, is steeped in Eurocentrism, focused on bloating Europe's prominence in the world at the expense of everything else. This is a critique from hindsight, and it's inconsistent: the map distortions are there because of the purpose of the Mercator projection, that being a navigation tool, not a Euro-supremacist agenda. The Peters map, by portraying relative sizes of all the landmasses, emphasizes how small Europe and North America actually are. South America and Africa are massive, and this, they say, is a non-racist projection (though one must question this sentiment, for a projection that comes about as a reaction to an apparent political dilemma is by nature political itself).  

But for the sake of being mind-blown yet again, what would the world look like if we looked at the Peters map upside-down? Remember that the earth is spinning through our solar system without any real "up" or "down"; north and south exist only in reference to earth's poles. One can look down upon the earth from any position in space and see "what it really looks like", and looking at it "upside-down" is no less legitimate than looking at it "right-side up".