Chess

Life is like a game of chess you see. We start out with a fair chance. We are up against the world as we make our first move. Which piece shall we be today, the Pawn, the Knight, the King? What we don’t understand until the game is over is that we were not any of those pieces at all. We were individuals, human beings, created by God to make our own choices and determine our own happiness. We were supposed to be the player who made the choices in life but instead we became the pieces and let life play us. We accepted our role as the Bishop thinking we could only move in diagonal directions and there was nothing we could do about it. We accepted our role as the Pawn thinking we could only take baby steps forward and our function was less important than those around us. Instead of being the player and thinking for ourselves we allowed others to move us in directions that ended up taking a piece of our self worth away. We got so caught up in the game that we lost sight of why were even playing in the first place. Take a look around you. You are no carved out little game piece on a game board. You are the decision maker and you must not accept any role but that. When life takes a piece away you must not accept defeat. You have choices, utilize all of them, and don’t become comfortable. Oh the possibilities you will have when you realize there is life outside of the game board. There is life when you truly decide to live.

Contradiction

Trapped
Trapped in the rut of every day life
Trapped in the constant dreaming of tomorrow
Trapped in motionless discovery of my problems
Trapped in knowing what is the right choice
Trapped in to doing what society wants

Freed
Freed from the guilt that possessed my spirit
Freed from the shackles that kept me so still
Freed from the responsibility of others
Freed from the comfortable feeling of routine
Freed to live and truly LIVE

Navigate

Survival of the fittest. This used to mean the strongest fastest and more often than not smartest creature remained at the top of the food chain. Back in the day we had to scrap for every little ounce of food and water and make do with a couple of logs thrown together for a shelter. And most importantly we needed to know how to navigate. Those things determined our survival. Well in today’s society most of us are not concerned with surviving in the “old fashioned” sense. To survive in today’s world means to make it through another day at work, or to be able to sit through your niece’s piano recital without falling asleep. Oh we have it rough now don’t we? We have become so numb to the essentials in life we have forgotten the most important one. Navigation. How is navigation at the top of the list?

Well, food is food. We can find that just about anywhere and in most places ALL YOU CAN EAT food. Food, check. Water. We have come up with so many substitutes for water, that actual water hardly exists in most people’s consumption of liquids anyway. Water, check. Shelter. Well considering now, we all try and compete with each other seeing who’s house is best decorated, what the bedroom to bathroom ratio is, and whether or not you have an island in your kitchen, I think shelter is more of a show than a need these days. Shelter, check. So that leads us back to navigation. Well back in the day when people were lost in the mountains, the desert, the jungle, they had to know how to navigate to survive right? Right. Today people do not consider themselves lost but if we stopped and asked ourselves one simple question, how would we answer, “Are you navigating your own life right now?” You have to know where you came from, you have to know where you’re going, and it’s probably not a bad idea to pinpoint where you are right now. A lot of people cannot answer any of those three questions and this includes myself a lot of times. Where did I come from? Where am I going? Where am I now? This, my friends, is called being LOST. Just because we are not in the jungle or desert or mountains or out at sea does not mean we need to throw the compos away. It is essential. Now I for one can admit I have thrown my compos down and thought I could handle the world on my own, but I got lost at sea in a hurry. There I was just floating through life not even aware that my ship was going down in a hurry. I sunk my anchor but wondered why I wasn’t getting anywhere. You see, we get so comfortable in one little part of our world, we sink our anchors and then we get stuck. We need to be on a MISSION.

Going through life without knowing why we are taking each breath is a sad thing isn’t it? If you are going through life for the money, your anchor is sunk; you are stuck. If you are going through life for the pleasure, your anchor is sunk; you are stuck. If you are going through life to see how many friends you can make, your anchor is sunk; you are stuck. We get so caught up in the everyday hustle and bustle we think the GPS system has our back. Uh huh. Well I don’t know about you but it seems like technology has taken over everything these days. Is it taking over our reason for being? Or are we making our ‘beings’ be controlled by everything around us? Hmmm. Check. Check. Scientists are trying with all their might to invent smart and useful robots to join us in our day-to-day lives. Well, all I have to say about that is go walk down the street and you have a pretty good chance of running into one. We are living robotic lives. Everywhere you go, there are robots, just wandering. No compos, no motives, no idea why they are putting their left foot in front of their right, but they are. Robots CAN’T navigate. Snap out of it everybody. Strip off that robotic metal down to your flesh and live for real. Let us reel in our anchors in life and get on a mission. Where are we going? And most importantly why are we here?

Turning 22

Love in Vases

Love to me is like a flower; beautiful and free as it blooms and then over time it slowly dies. Everyone would like to think they can tame it’s beauty as they cut it from it’s undomesticated, home dwelling place, and then jam it in a vase to call their own. But in reality as soon as the blade has touched it’s covering, all hope is lost, for flowers do not belong in vases but rather in the soil. True love exists in its natural environment. The love I have come to know, soil doesn’t exist. Soil with rich nutrients is far from real. The earth I have seen is often times so dry and cracked no flower could ever survive. And when it rains, it pours. So much in fact that it floods and drowns the hope that the flower clung to for survival. You see, the kind of love I know, is the kind that comes in vases. They are beautiful as they sit in front of you, but looks are deceiving because there is no soil at the bottom of that vase to help that love grow any further. For this reason I have planted myself like a flower. Planted myself in an open field far from the hands that reach for any beauty I may possess. I hide myself amongst the weeds so as to not be seen by those that would like to have me in their grasp. I know I do not compete amongst several of the flowers but loveliness of that sort does not concern me. What concerns me is never letting those hands try and tame me. I want nothing to do with this love. For someone to say I love you is a powerful thing. I have seen so many say those three words and then shrivel and wilt like a dying flower just after. How can this be? To me this love only lasts for a time. It is temporary. I am not interested in provisional love, which is why it would be better for me to not experience it at all. Would it not be better to never have loved than to love and be so hurt you slowly wilt away like a flower? I have come to think so.

Tears

I really need someone but the truth is I want no one.
I don’t want to be anywhere but I have to go somewhere.
I think I understand and yet I’m so confused.
I am at a loss for words but they still come out so fluent.
I feel numb to emotion and yet tears stream down my face.
I laugh and smile and yet I feel so miserable and sad.
I close my eyes to sleep but images flood my mind.
I am so tired and yet I always seem to lie awake.
Memories consume me as tears escape me.
My heart is breaking as I realize the things I take for granted.
Where does the time go I wonder?
And why don’t more people take advantage of its precious tics.
Instead we waste it performing useless tasks.
I will never know when my time is up and yet I live as if I do.
Change.

Masks and Steel

Here’s a thought. If you were in a pickle, like a big sliced dill pickle not just a tiny hamburger kind of pickle, whom would you call? If you need advice from someone where do you receive it? Now to some the obvious answer may be your parents or relatives, but how many of us have someone we know we can count on when things get rough? You see for the most part we all have acquaintances in our lives which whom we call friends but if this friend only shows up for you when it’s convenient on their watch, can you really call them a friend?

I read somewhere that you use steel to sharpen steel just as one friend should sharpen another. When I use that phrase and apply it to my friendships, I realize only a handful of them would be relevant to that quote. The others would be more like a piece of lumber. Steel and lumber do not run around together. It is not that I would likely want to see that pile of lumber on the wrong end of a match, but when I look at the big picture in life their purpose in mine is limited. It is not necessarily that these people are bad people, because all of us could potentially be somebody else’s lumber, but if you call yourself a friend you should not change the definition to fit your own.

I think a big problem in friendships is that we all try so hard to impress others around us that we put masks on to accomplish this task. I know I used to have a closet full myself but I did some house cleaning and got rid of most of them as I finally became comfortable with me. The problem with masks is you become somebody you’re not, and so these so called friends become friends with your mask instead of the you that’s underneath.

Show people you, not the you they want, but the you that you want. I just threw out a lot of you’s, wow that may have been a bit confusing. Basically all I’m saying is, we all have a story, and every person you meet wants to tell you their story. The reason we don’t though is because we want to tell real people what we are all about. We want to tell people that we know actually care. No person in a mask would care what you would have to say. So we keep reserved, and go on living how we think they would want us to. Masks are for Halloween and lumber sits in a lumberyard. Take off the mask and get the sharpeners ready. Friends are a valuable thing.

Always Moving (Column 3)

She gives the Energizer Bunny a run for his money and challenges most birds with her free spirit on how high they can fly. With batteries that only require minimum charge time you will see my friend Melissa always moving. Whether she is running by the beach or pacing in the kitchen while eating her favorite snack, her feet cannot seem to quit going. It’s almost like the stop/go switch programmed in her brain is permanently stuck on go, because the only time she stops is if she is sitting at a red light.

Ever since I’ve known her, Melissa’s idea of relaxing was doing something active. If there was a hint of daylight outside you’d better be making use of it. Her time here at Kearney was spent playing on the women’s basketball and softball teams, and yes she even participated in a college golf tournament when the team needed one extra girl. So as a three-sport athlete, calling her well rounded doesn’t even give her justice. As a former teammate I’d never seen anyone work so hard at something in my life. Moving, moving, moving meant coming in the gym at 12 am to work on her game or running some extra sprints just for the fun of it.

After college days she decided she would keep her moving streak going and just go ahead and move right on over to Costa Rica. With a journalism major, she landed a job there with a newspaper where she found out fast that sitting at a desk was torture. While living there her and her quick feet trained with marathon runners which of course made things at the office not seem quite so bad. Her stay there was short however as she knew her and that desk would not be able to get along. So two months later she arrived back in Nebraska wondering where her and her feet would go next.

Then personal training jumped in the picture with an unexpected leap. Well, what better way to keep on moving then to teach people how? So going back to grad school and being a trainer was the next step on her busy road to success. After a semester of kickboxing, boot camp, abs, water aerobics, and some of those nasty anatomy and exercise science classes, Melissa decided she would up and move elsewhere with her personal training experience.

These days you will find her on the sunny beaches of San Diego, still moving. While most people think of the beach as a place to go and relax and catch some rays, Melissa thinks of running, playing football or sand volleyball, or maybe even doing a handstand or two. Her newest workout/hobby involves a ten foot board. You guessed it, surfing. This girl was meant to live where there’s water. Skiing, her old love is something of the past as she now flies through the air on a wakeboard and balances herself on the waves amongst the rest of San Diego’s surfing citizens.

Her day begins as the alarm wakes her at 4:30 every morning to train her first client. After a few hours of training in the morning she has a tiny break, where the couch rarely gets to see her bottom, as she would rather go get in a workout or maybe grab her board and hit the beach running. Her afternoons are filled with fidgety gestures as she sits impatiently in class waiting for the professor to tell her to move on with her day. Her afternoons are always filled with activities that vary from day to day but one’s that always keep her and her feet on the go. Oh and her definition of a nap? Ten minutes long.

A Response to Alex's Post on Dogs

Alright the whole idea that having a dog is as pointless as taming a giant squirrel is something I disagree with. Some people do not like dogs because they slobber and others because they are afraid of what could potentially happen if their chompers met his or her skin unexpectedly. On the other hand to have a dog for some may be the difference maker in someone's life. It may help fill that empty void that someone has been missing. What person that you know of is so happy to see you when you get home that they greet you at your car door every day wagging their tail in joyful eagerness just waiting for you to step out of the vehicle? What person that you know of can you yell at and they won't just yell something right back at you? How many people would love to see how far you can throw a ball so they can run after it as fast as they can to then bring it right back to you? I don't know of any.

Maybe that couple walking their dog down the street have tried and tried to have children and things just weren't adding up for them. So a dog mends the void. When I think of dog's I think of family time and laughs, and days down by the creek and summers playing catch in the yard. I think of sledding and riding horses, new puppies and new tricks. I think of great books I read as a kid, like "Where the Red Fern Grows", "Shiloh", and "The Guardian". Disney movies would not be Disney without a dog. "101 Dalmatians", " " Lady and the Tramp", "The Fox and the Hound", "Oliver and Company", "Homeward Bound", "Old Yeller", "Air Bud", "Eight Below", "Shaggy Dog", "Beethoven" and "Marley and Me" are all centered around dogs. Movies like these bring a family together.

Now, I'm not saying I'm a dog lover by any means. All I'm saying is I'm no dog hater. If you can teach a creature to sit, roll over, play fetch, chase some cows or sing you a tune, I say it's more than an over sized rodent.

A Place to Call Your Own

Let the song take you there. Let it take you to a place, a place only known to you. The song takes you back, to the intrinsic place, the one that no soul can enter but your own. You listen intently, with no objectives in mind at all but to be in harmony with the world. You are at peace with yourself as you listen and keen in on every note and every lyric so cleverly pieced together. As the notes smoothly flow up and down like the breeze just propelled them into place, you place yourself somewhere else. You smell those smells you had once forgotten and remember the exact feeling that was bursting from your body. The feeling you swore a person could only feel once in their lifetime. Your chest feels as if something inside must burst immediately through the wall it encloses. A smile crosses your face as you remember the exact memory. You stick yourself back in time and watch the re-run of the cherished moment play word for word, action for action, wondering if maybe you can just stay there a bit longer.
Music does this to some. If you are lucky enough to hear its power it is something that penetrates right to the bone. It is something I breathe in with refreshment and exhale with satisfaction. Music takes me there. To that place no one else can touch but me. What better thing to have than a place to call your very own in this chaotic world?

A Different Way to Look at Fat

The term "losing weight" has always fascinated me. I've always wondered exactly how the whole process works. My weight seems to fluctuate a lot during the year and it is something I really won't ever understand. By fluctuating, I mean that in the summer I watch what I eat more because, duh, it's swimsuit season. Then in the fall, basketball workouts start up and I think I can eat more. So I do. But as the wintery hibernating season begins, so do the curves in my hips and thighs. But I think to myself "Megan, you are working out for at least two hours a day, you can eat whatever you want." Well my thinking on this idea is in fact wrong, and it shows. Maybe not to everyone around me but I can start to tell when I've worn sweats for two weeks and suddenly I slip on a pair of jeans, that I don't quite just "slip" into anymore. It's a bit depressing. I've never been a girl though that is super concerned with my weight so stepping on the scale was not a big issue for me. I am what I am.

Last night though, I was talking to my friend about losing weight. We were just discussing the whole process and the best ways to go about it and some crazy thoughts started flowing. It is the strangest thing to me that we lose weight while we are sleeping. How can a couple pounds disappear from your body while you lay there in dormant mode? Where do they go? I was letting my mind wonder a bit and began to imagine our "pounds" just being thrown under the bed at night. The Fat Guys in our body all have a conference every night. I imagine it to be like the show "Survivor." Which pound of fat will last the longest? So every night they have to vote which pound will leave the group. Then while our bodies are working out and we are trying so hard to lose those extra pounds, the "pounds" themselves are performing tasks to try and stay in the group. That's why it's so hard to lose weight you see. Our body is actually working against us and we don't even know it. Well my mind is going to have a little reality show going on simultaneously. Yes, my mind is going to run the show "Punked". I am going to play tricks on the Fat Guys on Survivor and they won't even know it. Just when they think they are hanging on for good, my Ashton will come in and laugh obnoxiously as they are told "Dude, you just got Punked" Bye Bye.

Open Mind

You talk to me with open eyes….but your mind remains tightly sealed
If you could only grasp…what this scary world has revealed
You might understand….why I do the things I do
But instead you find it quite alright….to only see your words as true

What you don’t understand….is that we come from different worlds
So that can’t mean my foot is too big….if my shoe doesn’t fit yours
Just slip it on and take a walk…you’ll end up in a different place
And when you return…I dare you to tell me I’m wrong to my face

I’ll walk a mile in yours…even if it brings a blister to my skin
At least that way…I’ll know where you have been

Anyone can look at life with open eyes…but it takes a free person to look with an open mind

Don’t get comfortable being chained to your thoughts...it is in this mistake that you will find yourself only able to dream the life you sought

What's the Big deal?

Why is it that human’s care so much about what people think of them? I think they are one of the only creature’s God created that carry this ridiculous trait. You don’t see a deer stop and look at itself in a pond and check out to see if its butt looks too big in the reflection. And you don’t see squirrels only gathering the best looking nuts to try and impress their neighbor…they think “For crying out loud, a nut’s a nut!” Dogs sure don’t think twice when they gain a few extra pounds. Why should we care then? Why do we waste hours of our lives getting ready and prepped to go out? Or why do we care so much that our GPA’s have to stay high or we won’t succeed in life? After all it’s just a number, and on judgment day God will not ask you “Now child, was your GPA over a 3.5? I’m sorry I can’t let you into heaven.” Why is it that if we mess up in life we are more worried about what someone will think of our mistake than just learning from it on our own? I mean the only one that we should really be trying to impress is the one who put us here right? We get so caught up in our own little worlds we don’t realize how ridiculous and complicated we are making our lives. I’m not saying we should just throw out the body wash and makeup and be smelly bums the rest of our lives but really. As long as your heart is in the right place everything else will just fall into place right with it. It’s not about what cool things you have or how much money you can earn, it’s about what kind of person you are. We can’t take our possessions with us so why do we get so attached to them? I am as guilty as the next person on every accusation, although I can say I have never really cared as much about what people think of me. I didn’t think twice when I was in seventh grade and I was the only junior high kid who signed up for the high school lip sync contest. Sure I was nervous out there dancing and singing in front of a bunch of seniors but heck, for just being me, my group got a standing ovation. I think I respect people a lot more when they can just go out and do and say what they believe in and not second guess themselves because of someone else’s opinion. Opinions can just drag people down to where they are not even living their own lives, just living to impress people. If we could just learn that there are more important things out there than what kind of car we drive and if our hair looks just right we could save a lot less time and transfer that wasted energy to something more useful. After all, we are all equal in the Big Man’s eyes so we should all be equal here on earth, no matter what number pops up on your scale when you step on it, or what your monthly paycheck reads.

Dexter (Column 2)

My brother has danced on that line of death all his life. It can be said that our whole family has bad luck, as the flight for life has been to our house twice, but none of us suffered the extremities of this unluckiness at such a young age. It seemed throughout all his childhood, my brother Dexter could have easily earned himself the nickname Stitch, for all the hospital runs that boy went on.
I guess we should have known when the kid was born through emergency C-section, that maybe his life was going to have everyone else sweating bullets. After barely surviving that, he has managed to have stitches in his lip, not once but twice. Both times were when his lip met the end of a metal bar. He has split open his forehead running into the corner of a shelf, been kicked in the stomach and the head by a horse. The second time however the horse managed to split his ear in half with its powerful hoof. Thirteen stitches later my brother still had an ear on his head, thank goodness.
Dexter, now sixteen, is a guy who could be described best as fearless. At times dad may exchange the word fearless for stupid, as we watch holding our breath, while my brother hot rods around the farm on his dirt bike. You would think after suffering the worst of a scull fracture the boy would settle down a bit, but with Dex it’s go fast or don’t go at all.
He was eight years old when the scariest of all the scares happened. Our family was having our yearly branding. This is an exciting time for everyone, as everyone invites friends out to ride horses and brand about 300 calves all afternoon, to then feast like kings afterward. My brother and his friend slipped away from the excitement however and jumped on the four-wheeler to go for a spin. My brother made the mistake of letting his friend drive which was probably not a good idea for someone who has no experience with a four-wheeler. I need not mention it is probably not a good idea for an eight year old to drive period. But farm kids are thrown on moving objects at a very young age regardless.
Then it happened. Somehow the four-wheeler had managed to flip and my brother was trapped under the heavy machine while his friend stood helplessly in horror. Lucky for Dexter a couple of high school boys were driving by and were able to lift the now upside down four-wheeler off of him. What they found though was a young boy covered in blood and unconscious. He had cracked his skull completely around the top of his head.
No parent or sibling for that matter wants to hear news like that. After a couple weeks in the hospital he was finally released to go home but was to be under watch at all times. The right side of his face didn’t work properly. That cute little smile was now crooked as the nerves were damaged during the accident. His eyes couldn’t focus either, as one eye would look at you while the other was looking off to the side. We were told he could never play sports and would have to wear a helmet at all times if he were to ride a bike.
Well the kid has taken tremendous leaps since then. Eight years later he is now leading tackler on his football team and just recently made it to state in wrestling. You would look at him today and not be able to tell at all that the nerves in his face were once damaged. He’s no quitter. Even though he has us all holding our breaths and dropping our jaws at times, he keeps things exciting to say the least.

Family

We all have our own explanation of family and what the term means to us. I could write a novel about mine, one probably worth reading but the thing is, I happen to be quite different from my family. If you were to see me walking to class you would probably never guess that I grew up on a ranch. Just by looking at my sweat pants and sneaks and rocking my hat a little crooked on my head a person may tab me as a “wanna be gansta”, a jock, or just a chic that doesn’t like to dress up. Pick your poison, but you would never know that wrangler jeans are seen in every room at family gatherings, and that Busch Light proudly sponsors the Becker family. Well, they should at least. You wouldn't know that we hug all the time. So much in fact that if someone saw us they would think we haven’t seen each other in years when really, it was probably just yesterday. You wouldn’t know that back home a few of our main uses of transportation happen to be in a saddle or on a four-wheeler.

You wouldn't know these things because at one point in my life I thought I wanted to leave all those entities behind me. I know I am different and although I still enjoy the farm life and all it entails, there has always been something tugging at my heart telling me that cow poop and summer nights down by the creek in front of the stars are not all I’m meant to see. It might seem to some that I have a case of the opposite syndrome. You know, like when straight haired girls want bouncing curls and those curly Q girls would do anything to never use a straightener again.

So for a while I separated myself, and at times still do. But what I have learned through my experiences is that no matter where you come from and how good or bad of family you think you may have, there is a bond that will always be holding you to them. A bond that, no matter how different you may seem, cannot be broken. It is something that is a part of you and it pulls at every feeling inside of your body no matter how much you try to deny it. So for me this means I will always carry the farm life with me wherever I go. If I sit under a streetlight and see but just one star, I will reflect on those nights when I sat under a whole blanket of stars at home without the slightest noise but a cricket chirping close by. And I will smile, because I know, no matter how different I’ve become, or how much things may change in my life, my family is the one thing that is consistent. They will never wear anything but wranglers.

TV at Its Finest

The television. The hours we spend watching other people's lives in that little animated box is amazing isn't it? Studies show that last year the average American spent 153 hours watching the tube each month. After watching the 1970's film, Network, my reaction towards television still stands as is. And that is, too much T.V. makes me feel like a loser. Plain and simple. If I sit and watch the tube for more than a half hour at a time I feel like somehow that little box sucked out part of my brain and I won't ever get it back. I used to be an avid television watcher who had to watch shows on such and such night of the week. But then I began to realize how much I wasn't learning from any of it. Zip, zero, none. If anything, after watching a reality T.V. show, I learn that people out there have a lot more problems than I would ever want to be involved with. And for the most part I learned after watching Greys Anatomy that doctors have affairs and have some unsolvable issues that can never be dealt with.

The sad truth to television though, as was pointed out in the film, is that T.V. networks will do whatever it takes to make a hit on television. These days that just happens to be shows that involve a bunch of people living together for a summer and dressing trashy every weekend to then go get drunk and hopefully get some action. In the process we get to see people punch, spit and kick each other in drunken rage and then go make out in hot tubs. Oh the life, right? Well have you ever wondered what happens to these people after the season is over? I do. Can you imagine a girl from Bad Girls Club going in for a job interview after that? Good luck with that one honey. The thing is, those networks don't care what happens to them as long as they are getting good ratings.

So why do we like to watch stuff like this? Well for one, I think we can't figure out how to humor ourselves anymore. If we aren't sitting in front of a television that has to be our imagination for us, we tab ourselves as bored. For two, we like to make ourselves feel better by watching other people's problems. One thing that really became evident to me while watching this film was that things really don't change a whole lot over time. Sure, we upgrade, but the world around us will always seem bad. The only difference way back when was that they wouldn't reveal any of the so called real world on television so we had shows like "Leave it to Beaver", and I Love Lucy" along with good ol' Archie Bunker. It's not like life back then was hunky dory but television wanted us to think so. Now networks have run out of ideas to entertain us because once they started throwing the "real world" stuff on T.V., Americans just craved more.

So here we are with highly educated half hour shows informing us of the things that are going on out there. You know the shows where people eat bugs and marry strangers for money. They are great, aren't they? I feel so much better about myself after watching things like that. If you can't sense my sarcasm I will tell it to you straight up, I think television programs are going down the pooper. I like to turn it on to watch sports once in a while, or maybe America's Funniest Home videos or "Who's Line" to get a good laugh. Sometimes American Idol because I love music. But other than that, I try not to pick up the remote too much in fear that someday my brain will be gone forever. I would like to think that I have my own imagination, which is in fact why I'm so darn funny.

Anyway, I think television controls us a lot more than we think, which is why I try not to plop myself on the couch too often. I like having control and the thought of someone else controlling how I think because I'm too lame to come up with something else to do, well like I said, it makes me feel like a loser. On the other hand, this may be contradicting somewhat, but I love to go to movies. That's a topic for a whole other blog though.

Music Is Good for You

I have this friend that said to me
“Meg I once was blind but now I see
You have opened my eyes to the music of the world
I used to be a one type of music kind of girl”
But in fact she was and it was plain to see
There she was base bumping to rap and r&b
I had to let her know there was more to life than those beats
So I turned on some tunes that made her say “Sweet”
Yes I saved her from listening to the same ol’ base clef
Because with just base bumping she might have went deaf
Now there is a little acoustic and alternative in her life
And once in a while she throws some country on the side
Oh don’t get me wrong I will for sure jam to some rap
And I will dance to that hip hop and grind on a lap
But the way I see it, in order to appreciate music for what it is
We have to listen to more than what’s trendy in the music biz
Finding those starving artists and the ones not well known
Gives you that comforting feeling that you’re not alone
There are people out there who can do wonders with words
And if we would just listen, these people aren’t nerds
Having a wide range of music is good for you, you see
If you don’t believe me, just ask my friend Kelsey

Listen to This

Alright I know this song is way overplayed and everyone is probably sick of it, or maybe you didn't even like it to begin with. But, my point is, Fireflies sang by this dude, is amazing. I love music and I appreciate when people can do stuff like this. Check it out.

Busy Bees

So I ran across a funny conclusion while I was in California over spring break. Well, actually my friend brought this little idea afire in my ever twirling mind. And that is, the idea of being busy. What is it to be busy? I think all of us definitely have our own definitions of what it means to be running around like busy bees, but how many of us are truly working to make the honey? Because after thinking back on my typical daily routine I must say, although I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, I'm not quite as busy as I thought. Some days yes, I dive head first into those honeycombs and make the best of that sweet nectar. Then there are days when I think I have a whole pot of honey to produce when really if I just sat down and did my thing, it would take a lot less time than I expected and that big pot turns out to be rather small.
The problem is we make those "things to do" turn into enormous tasks instead of just looking at them as they are and so we end up wasting our energy just flapping our wings. We flap frantically telling everyone around us how busy we are, but the honey is just barely dripping out. Sure I procrastinate and so at times I find myself flapping wildly with ten different tasks laying out in front of me. There I continue flapping, staring blankly at all the tasks and not tackling a single one because I'm so "busy". But the problem is I make myself busy. If we would just stop flapping our wings and settle down and do what we know we need to, we wouldn't be so busy. And the honey would be a lot more rewarding.
The solution. Procrastinate? Sure. If you have to do it, then do it. But stop flapping your wings. When you really have something to accomplish, tell yourself to just do it. Because flapping around solutions just makes you busy right? We don't want to be so busy that we can't enjoy life. Lets stop and smell the flowers when we can, but otherwise lets do our thing and sing proudly our theme song. You know that one by Black Eyed Peas "Imma Bee, Imma Bee, Imma, Imma, Imma Bee.

Airplanes are crazy dude

Isn’t flying a crazy thing? As I’m sitting in the airplane over spring break looking down at the tiny little ant like figures slowly creeping their way across the earth I started thinking how ridiculous it is that we can fly from one place to another. Like we actually are just up there floating in the air, crammed in our seats with absolutely no control. There we sit, surrounded by complete strangers traveling at speeds that would probably pull our eyelids off our faces. How strange it is to fly. To sit by a person you have never met, and pretend to be interested in where they are going and what they are doing, as they try just as hard to listen to you as you tell them the same.
How strange it is that we are crammed in a tiny living space for two hours and that we so delicately eat our little bag of peanuts and drink our coke like we have manners or something. When really, everyone on the plane is secretly demanding another bag because those peanuts are just a tease to the ol’ tummy. Oh and you can tell too. Watch your neighbor next time as the flight attendant walks by and asks if they need anything else. They hesitate for just a moment because what they would really like to say is, “I only had ten peanuts in my bag. This was a pathetic attempt at a snack and my belly is screaming for more food. I know you people have better food back there, will you bring some out please? And by the way, you have filled my cup so full of ice there was probably only a tablespoon of coke in here, so can I get a refill?” At least that is what you are thinking, so your neighbor has to be on the same thought process as you. And the flight attendants, do they really enjoy handing out peanuts and coke to people? Can that really be all that fun?
Well, after the peanuts you doze off in the most comfortable way possible, which happens to be leaning your head to the right and using your shoulder as a pillow. Oh the comfort of shoulder pillows. Your butt then starts to tingle off to sleep as well as your eyelids get heavier and heavier. Finally you are napping, next to the stranger you just met, so they are technically no longer a stranger. Then you wake up to your own twitch ten minutes later. In embarrassment you pretend it was the turbulence that woke you up so you start looking out the window only then to find that you had slobbered on your shoulder pillow. Now you’ve realized you were just sleeping with your mouth wide open in front of complete strangers. First impressions are great. Yes flying is a crazy thing. At least when you fly Southwest your bags are free. Happy flying people.

Word Lock

Digits Defined (Column 1)

Each morning I wake up to the sound of a quite bothersome ringtone and as I roll over to press the snooze I glance at the time like I somehow did not expect it to nudge me out of bed just yet. But because of the numbers staring back at me I have to get up and begin my day. Those very numbers determine where I will be and what I will be doing. And as I hit the snooze for the third time I suddenly begin to question numbers and their meaning of existence in my life.
I did some research and found that numbers were first invented around 3000 B.C. So they have been around for quite sometime now. But back then numbers were just a simple guideline to help us through our day. But being the all-powerful humans we are we have made numbers to be a lot bigger than what they have to be. First of all we have turned time into an object. An object that is chained to the movements of society. Because of the number on our clocks we must be at a certain place at a certain time. In time’s case numbers have caused us to hurry our way through life. What is the hurry, when life is short enough as it is?
In our attempts to control numbers we have actually made them the enemy. We have made them the enemy as we step on scales all around the world just hoping the number staring back at us is smaller than our last go at the awful weighing machine. So we have anorexic and bulimic people walking this earth thinking they are not good enough. We have made numbers the enemy as we reach into our pockets only to find that the things we want in life we cannot have because we cannot possess enough money to buy them. We have made them the enemy as students all across the world begin to hate any number in the seventies and their hearts ache if ever they see numbers below those dreaded digits. Because to see a number that low one feels they are tabbed as a failure. A single number can make a person feel like a failure. See what we have done?
Yes I do fall into these categories at times but I try hard not to. I think it is important to have a plan in life but if that plan revolves solely around my clock I would not be as happy. I do not want ticking digits having that much control over me. I also think it is important to stay active and I am concerned about my body, but I will not get caught up stepping on scales or denying myself the pleasure of food because of the number my body carries around each day. That is just me, and that is who I am. I have seen my share of numbers in the seventies since I have been in college and at times even lower. At first I was horrified at the sight of them. Now, I realize they are just numbers. If I can walk away from a class and say I truly enjoyed it then the number that goes with does not matter to me. Most students will remember a small amount from what they learn in college anyway.
In the end numbers are just numbers. Simple guidelines not rules that cannot be broken. Do not let numbers define the person you are. Do not let numbers make your life go any quicker. Let the time tick away and the money roll in but in the end those numbers do not portray you as a person. The person you are is defined on how you handle the numbers that life has given you.

Whats Your Number?

To live: to have life, as an organism; be alive; be capable of vital functions; to continue in existence. This is Webster's definition of what it means to live. But what is our definition of living? What makes us get out of bed every day? Numbers. Yes, numbers are in control of you and I every day. The clock on your wall determines where you will be. The number of paper rectangles and silver coins in your pocket determine what you will eat for dinner and what sort of things you can buy. And go figure a GPA is a big fat number as well. We pull out our phones every day and scroll through our numbers and text numerous people a number of times. When we turn sixteen we buy a car and as we press the pedal down we look at the number on our speedometer with a grin as if it it somehow gives us a power we've been missing out on. When we turn twenty one we find out the number of shots our bellies can handle before we find ourselves hanging over a toilet somewhere. Numbers after thirty are always wished to be smaller and especially if you haven't found your number one. Yes numbers control how we live our lives.
This sounds to me like we live like puppets on strings. Who says it has to be this way? Why should a number on your test determine the person you are. So what you received an 8 out 15 on your last blog. Why should the number in your bank account determine where you go in life? You can do whatever you wish. Why should the number on your clock determine where you should be? Clocks do not come with chains and leashes. You see the problem is we have built these ideas about numbers that people go along with without every questioning.
I happen to be a reader. I love to read and one book that I just can't get tired of is that big fat book called the bible. In all the stories I've read in this book I've never read anything about how having a good GPA will get you far in life. Or how you are better off in life if you possess more bills in your pocket than your neighbor. Now it would be hypocritical of me to say that I don't worry about these things and that I live strictly by what I read. But after our speaker today in class, it just got me thinking why do we get so worked up over the numbers in our life when only one number should matter? The number one. Ya, because there is only one guy that is responsible for our existence in the first place.
Numbers. There is nothing about a number in the definition of life. Let us experience life as life was meant to be. Let us live by happiness. Let us not just exist as a number in this world.

You Blockhead

Block. Now there are several meanings to the word block. Thinking as a child would we can look at a block as those little square objects with the ABC's and 123's printed on the sides. Oh weren't those the days when you were entertained by little blocks that you could stack up into a tall glorious tower. And just when you put the finishing block on top, here comes little brother to wreck your beloved masterpiece.
Now we also have a block when we look at the sports world too. Volleyball players spend many hours just perfecting the word block. There is a special way to do it I suppose. And in basketball one of the greatest feelings in the world is to block someone else's shot just as it leaves their hand. Afterwards you so subtly stare that person down giving them the "Ya, that just happened" look. And of course there are blocks in football, soccer, and hockey as well.
But enough in the sports world, we also have sunblock. Yes, this special block is to protect your skin from the UV rays and all that nasty sun cancer business. Although most people my age will say they don't really block any of the sort as they sit in tanning beds thinking oh it won't happen to me. Yes, I'm guilty of not applying this block in my life too.
More blocks, yes there are more. Well it just so happens that I live on a block as well. Wow can you believe it? All these little squares that make up a city are called blocks too. And we use phrases such as "Oh it's just down the block", or "She's been around the block" like common sayings.
All these blocks however are not the kind of blocks I'm thinking of. The kind of block I'm thinking of is writer's block. You see, I cannot for the life of me think of anything to write about. I'm suffering writer's block at its worst. It's awful, it really is. I love to write and I can't even think of a topic to get artistic with. Oh well I guess. Maybe tomorrow I will think of something to write about. But until then maybe I'll go to Blockbuster and rent a movie to get my mind flowing with some creative juices.

Cutting Saturday Mail

How would you feel if I told you that Saturdays are no longer days to send or recieve mail? Angered and annoyed are a couple words that come to mind maybe. Well it turns out that post offices around America want to cut Saturday mail to try and help us get out of debt as a nation. Well thanks post office people for your generosity but why do you feel that its your responsibility to get us out of debt? I mean come on think of the head aches you would cause people if we couldn't have our Saturday mail. What about the people that work all week? Maybe Saturday is mail day. It should not be on the US postal service to try and make cuts to get back the money we lost. They had nothing to do with why we are so far in debt in the first place. If we are making cuts like this what else will we start cutting to save money?
It all seems rather silly when we have famous people running around getting paid for looking good while we are making cuts on how many days we can recieve mail out of the week. Or maybe the postmen and women out there have finally had it. They are tired of working six days a week. They need a weekend too, where they can kick back and enjoy a beer like everyone else in the world. Either way this idea is pretty awful. Because in the end it just means we can't procrastinate as long when it is time to pay our bills that are due for the month.

She Should Bounce (Editorial 3 Final Draft)

With a 9-16 overall record many people may be wondering where a certain sports program at UNK is heading as they stare into the future of athletics. As people look back, into this specific sport, memories of twenty win seasons and All-American players flood their minds. Loper Athletics as a whole has always been thought of as a powerhouse. But this year the Women’s Basketball program may be the weakest link. So as one stands in the present it is quite unclear why the sudden flip flop occurred in the win/loss statistic, as the year 2010 came bouncing in.

Although some may blame the incredibly young team that shows up on the roster for the rocky road the program has experienced thus far into the season, it should be brought forth that there is a coaching problem as well. Now, how would any bystander be able to observe such a situation with out being influenced by a biased opinion on this subject? Well, if anyone did any research at all they would find this. The current head coach has reigned over the basketball program for eight years. In the last four and a half years the program has been through four assistant coaches and has said goodbye to thirteen players who decided wearing the Loper uniform was not for them. Now if anyone is not good at math here, that is an average of three players and one coach per year. Having this many people stream in and out of a program in such a short amount of time would start to take its toll on a team one would think. It has done just that and it is quite evident this year as the program hired a sports psychologist to come work out the kink in their rope to success. Is it just the bad weather Mother Nature throws at us in the great town of Kearney that is pushing these people away? Although Kearney has seen some horrible winters over the past four years there has to be more than snowflakes and zero degree temperatures that are forcing these people to make a decision to leave. Maybe we have a hardheaded coach who isn't willing to change her ways on our hands.

Something needs to be done about the current situation this sports program has found themselves in. If the university wants to boost attendance and bring more recruits into the program a conclusion must be made about how to achieve this. With a coach who must care more about her win loss record than her players or co-workers it will be hard to get the program heading in a positive direction. If a psychologist can’t help the situation who can? Oh that’s right, a new coach could.

Pack your Powerade and Powerbar, we're going on a Powertrip

We have all worked for someone who constantly carries their suitcase with them everywhere they go. Yes, it seems they grip the handle of life so tightly, their hand has forever molded into that position to seize all it contains. They pack every minor detail into this suitcase and are sure to let you know about it when you show up for work. It is as though all they care about are themselves and of course that beloved suitcase and all it entails. They open their suitcase up every day and unload the whole lot right on top of your shoulders. As random objects fall out in your face you wonder why exactly it is that you work for this person. Why should you work for someone who has to carry that big fat suitcase around with him or her everywhere they go? Well I’ll tell you why. Your boss is on a power trip. Yep, they packed their bag and are ready to take you on a vacation from hell.

It’s worth it some might say, especially if you make good money. But making money should have little to do with why you show up to work everyday. It should be because you love what you do. This love suddenly turns into a task when your boss sucks every ounce of that love you ever possessed from your body. It turns into a dreaded assignment. And if you fail this assignment your job position is threatened, so you suddenly must walk on egg shells everywhere you go, just hoping your boss's suitcase doesn't come crashing down on your head.

When it is finally evident to you that all your boss cares about is themselves and how high up they are on the rankings of "most prestigious bosses" list, that's when you know it is time to opt out of the vacation. Your boss will never care about you as a person. They will only care about what you can produce for them. Because as much as anyone tries to pry that suitcase from their hand they will always be on a trip. A power trip.

The life in the day of a...

I get thrown around like I'm a chance to be taken. I've seen the floor more than any person alive. I am thick-skinned and sometimes stubborn. I give all I can for you but sometimes things don't play out how you want them too. Some people want me more than others. And the ones that want me demand my presence. I experience sweat and tears with the best and the worst. I get caught up, and everyone is reaching for me but only one can have me at a time. Because of me people's lives are changed dramatically. I've seen tempers rise and tears fall all because of one movement I make. Some people say they live and die by me and they can't get me off their mind. Other's lose interest in me and slowly start to ignore my existence. I build friendships and I make enemies. I am a basketball, watch me work as I change the world.

Forty Days and Forty Nights....Yikes!

So lent has started. Forty days and forty nights of sacrificing your favorite things are what we have to look forward to. As I dug my hand into our candy bowl last night I realized shortly after, I gave up sweets for lent. I unwillingly stuck them back in the bowl and wondered to myself, what the heck are you thinking? Honestly. But then I realized I could really improve myself by doing this so it’s worth it. Now some of you out there may be Catholic bashers and I’m fine with that. You bash away my friends. For those of you who happen to be Catholic I’m sure you got asked several times what was on your forehead. Don’t be shamed people. I look at it this way. God, yes, even God has a sense of humor. He does not want that cross up on our forehead for people to point and say, “Oh look there’s the Catholic, haha.” No, no, he has us do that so we can be creative and try to come up with a different answer to tell people every time they ask why there is black stuff on our foreheads. He is a funny guy, he really is. If he didn’t have a sense of humor then there would be no such thing as humor itself. So as prep for next year we will try and come up with ten different answers to tell people when they tell you that you have something on your face.

1. “Is it shaped like a cross? Ok good.”
2. “Well I was going for the artist look today. You know charcoaly?”
3. “Dude, I know, I just got done cleaning my chimney.”
4. “Ah man! I told grandma not to kiss me on the forehead when she wears black lipstick! That’s so embarrassing.”
5. “You would not believe what just happened. I just got attacked by the dust bunny and he slapped me on the face.”
6. (If the cross is very evident) “It was like that when I woke up. I sinned yesterday. I think God has shunned me with this black cross, so when I look in the mirror I remember he’s mad at me.”
7. “Oh crap. I work at a funeral home. We turned someone into ashes today.”
8. “I’m a pyromaniac.”
9. “My toaster started on fire this morning. Things got ugly.”
10. “I do? Wow, no one else has said a thing to me.”

Well here we are starting this Lenten journey with another Ash Wednesday behind us. Next year you will be prepared. No matter what religion you are though, try giving something up just to see if you can. I dare ya. God’s a good dude, and someday, in the event that mankind actually figures out what it is that this world revolves around, millions of people are going to be shocked and perplexed to find out that it was not them….this includes me. Which is why I think the least we can do is give up something we love for forty days for the guy.

Open wider please

So today I got my chompers clean, Ya I’m talking teeth

With two hands in your orifice, its kinda hard to breathe

You start to sweat and squirm, as that light beats on your face

When mister dentist says to floss, you think man get off my case

The only tools I like in my mouth, are really forks and spoons

Well and of course a toothbrush, but sharp ones, no thank you

How uncomfortable it is, to be that close to someone else

Without either of you speaking, as they look inside your chops

And those flavors for the polish, man who came up with those

Strawberry, are you kidding me, only if I can swallow

Then rinse and use the awkward vacuum tool as it sucks on your cheek

And then giving you a free toothbrush is supposed to make your week

Well sorry dentist man, but I don’t really like what you do

Thanks for cleaning my teeth, but I would just rather not see you

Which is why I brush my teeth three times a day

And not a cavity or a filling is getting in my way

It's just an awkward visit, you can't talk or say a thing

Which is why if you are dentist, you must be entertaining

Ya I think they should be story tellers, as they work on your maw

Then as they tell their tale, I can at least spit out Oooo or Ahhhh

But now that I think about it, if my mouth is open wide

My Ooos and Ahhhs will all sound like Ahhhs, with his darn fists inside

Will you not be my Valentine

When you put orange and black together you get Halloween. Mix some green and red in there and you get Christmas. But throw pink in the mix, and you get something special. You get chocolates and flowers and a whole lot of lovin. Hallmark’s busiest time of year and every florist’s nightmare happens to land on this day. February 14^th is loved by the lovers and hated by the haters. Oh Valentines Day, who came up with your existence? Every poor dude out there thinks that if he doesn’t buy his girl a dozen roses he has failed her in every way. And every girl out there thinks that if her boyfriend of three years doesn’t propose, that maybe he doesn’t really love her. Look at the expectations you set you silly holiday. You make this day some people’s first time to say I love you or maybe its some people’s first time to experience each other’s nakedness. But who says we have to be (as Bambi says it best) “Twitterpated” on this day? I’m just going to live this day in my sweatpants and sneakers, still wearing last night’s makeup on my face and try not to make a big deal out of the reds and pinks overtaking the universe. Now, I know what you all are thinking. This is my feeble attempt to bash Valentines Day because I happen to be one of the single ladies out there that won’t receive flowers but will still probably be eating chocolate. But I’ll let you in on a secret. I don’t really like flowers. I mean if I got them I wouldn’t hate them but the sun will still rise tomorrow if some plants in a vase are not sitting on my nightstand. So I’m not bashing Valentines Day. No way. I like chocolate too much to do that. And flowers aren’t so bad; they should just have a different scent is all. If flowers smelled like cologne or if I could eat them when they were done looking pretty then maybe I would like them better. All I’m trying to say is why do we have to set a holiday for people to love each other? Flowers are expected on this day. They aren’t expected on March 29^th. I’d rather receive them then if I were to get any. It’s a random day. Shouldn’t this love thing be happening every day? No, you’re right, it’s too much work to love like that every day. I would have to say I’m more of an April fools girl. Definitely fits my personality better. Like how cool would it be to ask someone to marry you on April Fools and really mean it? The guy walks up and is like “Babe, will you marry me? April Fools!....No but seriously, you wanna?” And then the girl gets to say no without hurting his pride. Anyway it seems I’ve went on a tangent here. For all you lovers out there, I hope you enjoy each other’s company. I sincerely mean that. For all you single people out there lets enjoy it while we can, “I’m feelin like a star, you can’t stop my shine, I’m lovin cloud nine, my head’s in the sky, I’m solo, I’m ridin solo, I’m ridin solo."

Practice Safe Text (Editorial 2)

 

As of January 1^st nineteen states have banned this common activity that so many of us use while driving. This action has become such a part of our daily routine that we consider it necessary to perform, not just a bad habit. The popular art of texting is not a new term to us, but the thought of it being illegal in Nebraska while we press down on the accelerator is. Senator John Harms is pushing to make texting while driving illegal in Nebraska as well. He wants it to be a primary offense not secondary. With a secondary offense a person must be pulled over for another traffic violation such as speeding.

 

We all think, “Oh it can’t happen to me.” We continue doing it because the odds are not against us. After all isn’t everyone textually active, and especially when they drive? A common acronym in the textual world is STD. For those who are not textually active this means Sudden Traumatic Disaster. More and more people are suffering from AIDS. Acronym use In Driving Scene. This needs to stop. Our hands are getting out of hand. Why should we risk our lives for a few abbreviated words?

 

Viewing accident after accident in the last five years, Nebraska is beginning to wonder if they should join the busy states like California in banning its use in the car. “Why should we?” is the question that our fellow Nebraskans are asking themselves. Its Nebraska, the roads couldn’t possibly be busy enough for anyone to worry about multitasking right? Wrong. When you text and drive chances are you have one hand on the steering wheel if you are lucky, otherwise a knee, your eyes are not focused on the road, and your mind cannot possibly be thinking about driving. Well, if your hands are doing something your brain should probably be in on it too. Banning texting and driving would be a smart move by Nebraska. Even though it may be hard to follow the temptation to do so would decline if a person were to be fined.

 

Although it may seem very inconvenient and quite ridiculous, it’s really not all that unreasonable. How is driving a car sixty-five miles per hour and having your eyes on something else besides the road you are traveling on not ridiculous as well? It could almost compare to drunk driving. We might have a few P.O.’ed citizens running around if this bill were to pass but that acronym looks a lot better when you set it beside the other acronym R.I.P. 

Practice Safe Text

All right all you texters out there. All you people who check your phone at least every two and half minutes because you think you will miss a text otherwise.  And most importantly who have had your heart beat speed up immensely because you swerved off the road while texting your buddy and driving. Listen up. Senator Harms wants to pass a bill that bans texting and driving. If you are caught you will be fined. Wow, that doesn’t seem fair does it? I mean we eat and drive, talk and drive, sing and drive, I won’t name all of them but you get the point. We do a lot while driving because well, what else would we do while we are just sitting in our cars driving sixty five miles per hour? Hmm well chances are if your hands are in on something your brain should be in on it to. So if we are driving, maybe we should put a little more focus into driving. Have you ever drove somewhere but you were texting the whole time so by the time you got there you can barely remember stopping and turning because it was like your car was on auto pilot? Don’t lie. You can remember. And its scary to think about but it happens to all of us. You see people, we must practice safe text. No one wants to hear of another STD. For those of you who are not textually active this means Sudden Traumatic Disaster.  More and more people are getting AIDS every year. Acronym use In Driving Scene.  All of you say oh no, it can’t happen to me. But, yes people, it can.  You keep doing it and your odds will go up. So don’t risk your life to read a few abbreviated words.

Superbowl 44

Superbowl 44, what a great one it was

The Saints and the Colts, brought on some buzz

A buzz in the papers and a buzz in your skull

You stopped mixing drinks and just took a pull

After the Colts lost their grip, you lost hope in life

You called in sick to work because of the strife

You ate more than your fill and downed that bottle

All because your boys couldn’t win on full throttle

Your whole month had come down to this game

And now that it’s over you feel pretty lame

You muster up the courage to talk to your friends

Because you bet them fifty bucks the Colts would win

Your pride has been shattered and your faith has been shaken

Because the one man you believed in has now been mistaken

Yes Peyton Manning is not the God you once knew

As his pass gets intercepted you realize he’s human too

And then it dawns on you that you’ve never met the man

But you wear his jersey around cause you’re his biggest fan

The thing is, he has no idea that you even exist

And you start to cry because you just can’t resist

It’s finally dawned on you how much time you have lost

How much weight you have gained and the price it has cost

You watch a man knock another man on his butt

On a Sunday night to then get paid 1.4 million bucks

And it seems all you get in return

Is a mess to clean up and a constant heart burn

 Superbowl 44 was entertaining to see

But in the end it’s just a game, not the reason to be 

If you really knew me

So people. I’m on the basketball team and we have our own team psychologist that works with us right? This fancy lady that knows all about how people think and what people are going to do next and how to fix problems. Oh wait that sounds a lot like God, how does she know all that? Right she doesn’t. She’s a pretender. Yep I said it. A pretender. And we believe her!  So today I believed her when she told me that people really don’t know me. Like really know me. I thought to myself, lady you are right! There is so much people don’t know about me. So she had us all go around the room and say the phrase “If you really knew me you would know…..fill in the blank.” This has got me thinking about what people really don’t know about me so I thought I would share some.

If you really knew me you would know that I broke my foot falling off a horse

If you really knew me you would know that I secretly love to wear slippers

If you really knew me you would know that I got a mole burnt off my neck three years ago

If you really knew me you would know that I workout out to screaming music

If you really knew me you would know that I am super organized

If you really knew me you would know that I failed math my sophomore year

If you really knew me you would know that I eat grapes like a bag of chips

If you really knew me you would know that I listen to classical music every morning

If you really knew me you would know that I haven’t eaten a hot dog in years because my puppy choked on one and died and the sight of one almost brings me to tears

If you really knew me you would have pulled the bs flag on at least the third line about the mole on my neck. People, the mole is still there. 

Yes, if you really knew me you wouldn't have believed me just like I believed the psychologist who pretends to know all things like God. 

Look at how easy it is to believe people. You so easily just fell into the nice delicate trap I set up for you. You believed it and I had you going. You felt like you were really getting to know me but nope, you weren’t.

Dating at its worst

Alright, the dating world can be rough. We all know that. Especially now a days where everything is started through texting or facebook. For goodness sakes we are dating online even. No there is no such thing as a "Hi, how are you?" and a simple handshake gesture anymore. Do we really get to know people for people anymore? Or do we get to know people's facebook profile's and texting strategies instead? Because really how many people (be honest) have you actually met in college, sober? This is how it works you see. You go to a party you see someone, you stalk them on facebook and then you become friends. Yay, what a world. Yea, I would say our dating system is pretty messed up these days. Well this isn't half as bad as what's about to come. Get a load of this. If you can't find anyone you like at a party, on facebook, or online, you can just order yourself a robot. Oh I'm not kidding around people. The world's first robotic girlfriend was just invented. (They are working on a robotic male ladies, don't worry). She is complete with flesh like synthetic skin and you can program her to have whatever personality you wish. Wild Wendy, Frigid Farah and Mature Martha are of just a few of the personalities. The article says she can't cook or clean but she can do almost anything else if you know what I mean. Good grief. Are we that shallow we have to stoop down to dating robots now? The robots are available in Europe and soon to be in the United States. All I have to say is gag me.

Winter, go away

Alright, who here is sick of snow? It just never stops. Ever. Just when you think it's over, Miss Mother Nature chuckles to herself and unfolds another blanket of her cold presence on us. I just want her to turn on the electric blanket already and give this place some heat! It must be just hilarious for her to watch us all slip and slide and fall down and walk into class feeling miserable and cold. Can't you just see her yelling, "Haha suckas!" Snow, you have out warmed, or should I say out colded, your welcome. No one wants you anymore. Everyone has grown tired of coats and scarves and hats and boots. We are all getting sick of starting our cars and turning on the defrost. I don't even scrape my car off anymore. That's right I'm just going on strike. Give me a little hole on the windshield so I can see where I'm going and that's all I need. But this man on the other hand, he feels a little different about the situation. I think this guy was cut out for snow. Watch the video and you will see what I mean. He takes scraping off your car to the extremes and OCD to a whole new level. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoxs0ELG0mA

Outsmart em

Lets face it. When it comes to breaking the law, not very many people can say they haven't done it. If you haven't then stop reading this now because your life is very lame and boring and you lack an extreme amount of excitement. Now, for the rest of us who speed, have used fake I.D's, drank before you were 21, pulled a U-turn, and done about everything you could, just to see if you could get away with it, you will understand the humor in this story. Because if you are like me, when you speed you try and think of really good reasons to tell the officer if and when you get pulled over. You might carry a water bottle and splash it on your pants just before he knocks on the window and say "Sorry, I had to go so bad!" You might also tell the person next to you to scream like they are in a severe amount of pain and tell Mr. Ima PullYouOva that you need to get to the hospital right away. Maybe your a flirt. Or maybe you can cry your way out of it. Whatever your strategy is, we all try to outsmart the law. It gives us a rush and it gives you that pat on the back type of feeling when you know you've beat them.

Well, one 61 year old New Yorker man was not so lucky. You see, he tried to outsmart the law by placing a fully dressed mannequin in his passenger seat so he could use the high occupancy lane that requires two or more people on the Long Island Expressway. He would have been fine if it were a sunny day but placing a pair of sunglasses on the motionless woman and putting her visor down on a cloudy day made things look a little fishy. Quite frankly I think the idea is pretty genius but a $135 dollar fine later the idea gets shot down pretty quickly. But really, what is the harm in driving with a mannequin? I give the guy props for trying it. If I were a cop I think I would have let it slide. Who wants to report over the radio "Ya, can I get some back up, I just pulled over a guy with a mannequin and things could get ugly." Thats embarrassing isn't it? Just let gramps go. Go find a shooting or bust a meth lab or something. And if you have to pull someone over at least get them for speeding, geez.

I guess the lesson learned here is, if you are gonna break the law don't get caught. And if you are driving with a mannequin, make sure you check the weather forecast before you leave the house.

Eight years and counting (bin laden editorial)

Last September marked the eighth year since the terrible tragedy of September 11th. Our country immediately grew afire and painted on a “You don’t mess with us” face and it was seen all across the nation. A person couldn’t go anywhere without witnessing our face paint and hearing our battle cry. Every time a person turned on the radio, turned on the television, walked through a store, or sat a stoplight looking at flag after flag on America’s bumpers, one was reminded of that date that will forever go down in history.

 With a promise that we would catch the supposed man in charge of it all, news reports are still streaming in of the voice recordings revealing that very man’s proof of existence. How exactly we get tape recordings from a man and not find out where he is will remain a mystery to many of us. We can send the Hubble Telescope into space to capture and find the unknown but we can’t use any sort of technology to find a man hiding in a mountain range, on earth. This would make an average citizen wonder where our government is investing its time and money.

 Mr. Osama bin Laden recently spoke publicly about the Christmas Day airliner-bombing attempt that took place on a flight from Amsterdam to Detroit just over a month ago. While graciously approving the effort, he specifically stated that the message was from “Osama to Obama.” Now, as Osama threatens with more attempts of terrorism, Obama is working on withdrawing troops from Iraq. Something about this picture forming seems a bit odd. Have we really won the war? According to this recent report bin Laden is believed to be hiding in Pakistan near the Afghanistan border. Well, why don’t we just get on the Internet and pull up Google map, America?

 “God willing, our raids on you will continue as long as your support to the Israelis will continue,” bin Laden stated. Well, in most cases this statement would probably seem threatening and perhaps a bit frightening to the U.S., or so one would think. But if you are the president now days you have better things to worry about because the economy is in a recession which in turn means it needs some serious work and you must back yourself up with an action to the incredible speeches that won you office. That war stuff is old news since Bush is out of the picture. Just keep the airport security extremely high for our safety and until the recession is over let’s just play phone tag with Mr. bin Laden. 

            So here we are in a “Where’s Waldo” type of game, just left wondering if we really ever will catch bin Laden and his gang. Something must be done. As the old saying goes, “It’s always quiet before the storm.” It’s been pretty quiet lately. There have been some scattered showers here and there but if we can actually stop a storm from coming, why not put the umbrellas away and get after it?