Today I said farewell to Intern Josh. His time is up - his wings are spreaded.
Today I spent the afternoon running downtown with Mike Tatu. We went to the apartment over The Bitter End. The couple who live there are moving to Washington State with their baby. For School. With the help of the Husband and the guy who lives across the hall, we carried a small piano down the narrow stairs and out the door. Two guys from behind the counter of the delicatessen next door helped us lift into the waiting, bright-yellow, cargo van. We drove to Mike's condo - and the piano tipped over twice. Scott Townley helped us move it from the van into Mike's living room.
I got lost on the way to Jay's house. I traveled in a wide looping circle over the Alaska, Lowell, and Caledonia borders. Twice.
Scott and I ran errands with Jay.
We drove with Mr. Kamphuis to the air-port and saw Jay off to South Africa.
(I am the dropper off-er and the picker-upper, never the traveler, but my time will come.)
I wrote a letter to Sarah.
And now I pack - choose which to abandon, and save that which is dear.
For a season has ended and another has begun.
And I must lighten my load in order to be ready for what comes next.
I fight the urge to burn half and donate the rest.
I loved - and talked, and listened, and failed to do all three of these in varying amounts as well.
I grew a little taller.
I wrote this.
You read it.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Updates
I never blog anymore. I have more important things to do with my time. Nobody ever reads this thing anyway. I don't blame them. The majority of blogs are simply the old bathrooms in your high school. The poorly lit ones with white cinder-block walls that stood at the end of the narrow hallways. People opt to yell their words at infrequent times, and the echos blend into a sound most can empathize with. Depressing? I'm sorry. Confusing? I bet.
I just picked up the link tonight to post something quick - this is a late night phone call when I don't know who to call. A whimper from deep within myself - showing a side few ever see.
I am wrapping up my second year at Grand Rapids Community College. I have spent a few thousand dollars, easily a couple dozen thousand man hours, more late nights than I wish to count, buckets of gasoline carting myself back and forth, and at least five parking tickets. I poured these into a bowl and mixed it with a large wooden spoon over the course of two school years and one summer course. But now it's time to take it off the stove.
I have cooked up: 62 credit hours, a 3.47 accumulative GPA (which is outstanding, given my grades in Sr. High), and a membership in an academic fraternity.
I have written a manuscript my creative writing professor swore could be turned into a book, given the addition of 100 pages or so - and Dave Cope is not a man to throw around compliments.
I have increased my theater knowledge 100 fold, acted in one GRCC play, have been cast in a one-act being performed at the end of the month, and deck-crewed two other shows.
I have read and laughed and whittled away all that did not fit me and have gained a much greater understanding of myself and who I am. I AM A MAN.
I read fantastically and can interpret symbolism, allusions, and meaning. I can write like a devil. I can ACT. I can weld and dance, and am learning to do both better. I have gained a greater hunger for God that I hope never leaves me. I have learned to tell what is false and what is insincere and what is bullshit and how to call it as it is. I have seen truth much deeper than most people will ever understand, and I thank God for it.
But as I said, the two years are done, and the oven bell has rung, and it's time to see how my cookery shapes up in a transfer of Colleges.
I am going to Cornerstone - for more reasons than you'd care to hear.
I run the risk of going into debt at least 12,000 dollars. This is a conservative guess, but still a figure my brain is learning how to comprehend.
Barely any of my credits transfer. I always signed up for classes at CC with no greater - or too many - direction(s) in mind.
I will be fifth year Sr. and will have to hold off any plans I might have had or would have liked to have made for at least another year. I will have to pay many more thousands of dollars and continue to give up more of my freedoms for another year. Most of the friends I have who are my age will move on and some will start families and some will move away as I stay here for another year. Staying on the dance floor and repeating these STUPID Academic shimmies and twirls for another year.
A part of me wants to yell, throw chairs at the transfer councilors and powers that be, knock office supplies off desks, drop out and tell them all to rot or shove what in which end.
A part of me wants to think that these two years, these last 24 months, this last one-tenth of my life so far have been wasted. A fortune spent and empty pockets bought. I have purchased real-estate and found I have inherited the wind.
A part of me wants to believe that.
But these last two years have taught me a few things. A few to say the least.
I just picked up the link tonight to post something quick - this is a late night phone call when I don't know who to call. A whimper from deep within myself - showing a side few ever see.
I am wrapping up my second year at Grand Rapids Community College. I have spent a few thousand dollars, easily a couple dozen thousand man hours, more late nights than I wish to count, buckets of gasoline carting myself back and forth, and at least five parking tickets. I poured these into a bowl and mixed it with a large wooden spoon over the course of two school years and one summer course. But now it's time to take it off the stove.
I have cooked up: 62 credit hours, a 3.47 accumulative GPA (which is outstanding, given my grades in Sr. High), and a membership in an academic fraternity.
I have written a manuscript my creative writing professor swore could be turned into a book, given the addition of 100 pages or so - and Dave Cope is not a man to throw around compliments.
I have increased my theater knowledge 100 fold, acted in one GRCC play, have been cast in a one-act being performed at the end of the month, and deck-crewed two other shows.
I have read and laughed and whittled away all that did not fit me and have gained a much greater understanding of myself and who I am. I AM A MAN.
I read fantastically and can interpret symbolism, allusions, and meaning. I can write like a devil. I can ACT. I can weld and dance, and am learning to do both better. I have gained a greater hunger for God that I hope never leaves me. I have learned to tell what is false and what is insincere and what is bullshit and how to call it as it is. I have seen truth much deeper than most people will ever understand, and I thank God for it.
But as I said, the two years are done, and the oven bell has rung, and it's time to see how my cookery shapes up in a transfer of Colleges.
I am going to Cornerstone - for more reasons than you'd care to hear.
I run the risk of going into debt at least 12,000 dollars. This is a conservative guess, but still a figure my brain is learning how to comprehend.
Barely any of my credits transfer. I always signed up for classes at CC with no greater - or too many - direction(s) in mind.
I will be fifth year Sr. and will have to hold off any plans I might have had or would have liked to have made for at least another year. I will have to pay many more thousands of dollars and continue to give up more of my freedoms for another year. Most of the friends I have who are my age will move on and some will start families and some will move away as I stay here for another year. Staying on the dance floor and repeating these STUPID Academic shimmies and twirls for another year.
A part of me wants to yell, throw chairs at the transfer councilors and powers that be, knock office supplies off desks, drop out and tell them all to rot or shove what in which end.
A part of me wants to think that these two years, these last 24 months, this last one-tenth of my life so far have been wasted. A fortune spent and empty pockets bought. I have purchased real-estate and found I have inherited the wind.
A part of me wants to believe that.
But these last two years have taught me a few things. A few to say the least.
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