Guided Freedom

Childlike

2009-01-28T11:57:00.000-08:00

I still find a sense of joy when school is canceled do to snow. And why not, it is a day that was meant to be spent in a small room with a bunch of people, but frozen bits of Hydrogen Dioxide rain from the sky and the day is given back.

As like always I proclaimed to get my work done early, get a head start; just as soon as I calibrate the moment by doing nothing. To just lay back and relax knowing that you where granted this small amount of freedom purely because of the weather.

Then the time slip slowly on and you start to realize that with this freedom you are responsible for removing the snow... I am not at that point yet, I am still very much enjoying the extra time granted by snow.

-NK

I might be a Mainer if....

2009-01-16T08:31:00.000-08:00

You wake up at three o'clock in the morning to take a hairdryer to the water pipes in the basement.

Not only did I take the time to slowly heat the water in the pipes, I took sentry duty on the kitchen sink. From three twenty to five ten I sat at the kitchen table and read I chapter from Howard Zinn's 'A People's History of the United States of America.'

With a head phone bud in one ear running through the 16 songs I have programmed on it, and the four songs that came on it (An annoying detail that I missed as I skimmed the user guide.) The other ear was finely tuned to the constant thin stream of water that was pouring from the sink behind me.

Along with the distractions my mind was a ball of putty because it only had three hours of sleep, and was much accustomed to being asleep at this very time of day. Needless to say the reading of the pages went slowly and from time to time I had to fight of I dream that played in my mind while my eyes where wide open.

At nine o'clock the night before I was sure that this would happen. I was made aware of the fact that the plastic around the house had fallen slightly. I am not sure what divine action took place to make sure that the six feet of the plastic, to fall under snow, had to be the the exact area that needs the most protection when it comes to making sure that the pipes will not freeze. Not only is it that corner that the water comes in, there is a crack in the foundation that carries wind strait to the pipes and a window next to the pipe as it runs across the wall.

Even though I find this the worst task of my winter duties (happening at least once a year.), it is a story that will propel me to make sure my children will never have to do it, and a story that I will tell them when they complain about shoveling the walkway in the middle of the day under a warming sun. A story that I will tell my grand children as I pay them to do the very same job that had been a chore for my children.

I am the Official Pipe Defroster,

-NK

Pedal of Freedom, the Legacy Resurfaces.

2009-01-15T08:32:00.000-08:00

I was the only person sitting in the front row of the class. The teacher had decided to have me start off the rounds of introducing yourself to everyone. As I explaining that my cousin was behind me and my niece was in the far corner of the room, I saw a face that I recognized; where could I have recognized this face from?

As the person by person explained who they were and why they were here, I kept looking over at the person, who is she? and then it came time for here to explain who she was. Her name did not ring any bells, which was odd because it was a unique name for someone from Maine. But then she said 'I work at China ___, I have worked there for four and a half years now.'

I was instantly through into memories from years ago.

The day before Mother's Day 2006 I took my bicycle and I rode it for 22 miles to the tourist attraction and I bought my mother two truffles from the best chocolate shop I have ever been to. I had made the trip to signify the end of my first relationship, but the story told to most is that I rode down to get my mother the perfect Mother's Day gift.

The Wednesday of the following week I talked my good friend, Thayne, into riding the trip with me. And that weekend we made the journey. My friend was making money at his first job and he had nothing that it needed to go for, so he would always buy tons of stuff and take me out for food.

The 22 mile bike ride called for a large amount of food, so we started to search for the best place to eat. After walking the whole of down town and finding nowhere that really struck us as the perfect place we went up on final street. Not far from where we stationed our bikes was a small Chinese restaurant. We sat down and eat, and my friend fell into a deep lust over the beautiful blond waitress. At the end of the dinner he wrote his number on a napkin and we left.

That next Wednesday we talked another friend into making the journey with us. It was the most exhilaratingly thing that we had done since the end of our Cross Country season. We talked up the journey that we had it all planned before we got on our bikes. Thayne had found out that a rode near his place of work cut out most of the worst hills on the way to the town.

It was a wonderful rode, with trees and fields of grass with horses. There was a stone house that looked like it was straight out of a fantasy book. We rode and rode, after we got to the town we decided to find a mountain to climb.

When we got back to the town it was time to eat. We entered the Chinese restaurant, there was a different waitress this time, this time I lusted over the waitress. What heaven had we found? This time I discussed the adventure that we had gone on, she told me that she no longer rode he bike around, it was too dangerous. She said that she had almost been hit on a one way street by a tourist going the wrong way. After the meal, I left my number on a napkin. I could not let Thayne show me up, and I was on the greatest adventure I had yet been on.

After the class, I made my way to her and said. 'I knew I recognized you, you waited on me once.'
she replayed 'yeah you looked familiar, I saw you walking in from the parking lot.'
'Huh, well three years ago my friend and I rode our bikes down to ___ and we eat at your restaurant.'
'Oh, that was you. I do remember you.'
'Yeah, you were the waitress that doesn't bike ride because of getting hit on a one way street.'
'Almost getting hit, yeah that was on State Street. You have a good memory.'

It was wonderful to see someone that only knew my from that one small adventure so many years ago. I could almost feel the burning pain in my legs, I could almost taste the Chinese food, and I could here her faint laughs echoing from the memories of three years ago.

-NK

Poison of Passion

2009-01-13T21:08:00.000-08:00

I know that I am 21 years old and I have not even begun to live my life, but there is one thing that I am sure of. People have shut there super egos off, and they have becomes slaves of their Ids. And this is where I have fallen into not being able to communicate with the people of my current peer level.

Seven years ago I allowed my Id to have everything it wanted. I allowed myself to turn off the pain of life. The ultimate of pleasure seeking, deny that there is anything to feel, both pleasure and pain, and you can deny that life is worth living and therefor all your needs are instantly met, for they no longer exist. Of course eventually this train wreck of a life style gets to you because when you go out into public you look into the eyes of people that are still untainted by the sheer terror that is the mortality of man.

It was about a year ago that I decided to start feeling again, for anyone that has found them in a cocoon that they want to shed, I want you to know that every step is going to hurt like hell but if you keep walking it will all be worth it.

Now to the point of this post, passion is only poisonous when you allow yourself to forget yourself in order to pursue it. Passion is something that is meant to be found between two people that connect on a level that does not really have words or even actions, just something brings it together. When you place yourself to the sidelines in search of passion, you doom yourself to fall for words and actions that resemble what passion has been illustrated for you.

I have once again seen and heard the livelihood of pseudo-passion, where do people get the thought that sexual relations actually signify that a relationship is functioning. I know first hand that relationship continue when there is nothing but sex left, and with nothing to base sex on, the sex fades and one person is faced with accepting something that had been denied only to satisfy physical needs.

I came to this post to find something out for myself, and I have found something that I would have never actually discussed with myself. Yesterday the psych teacher said that there were three major ways of dealing with things; Denial, Rationalization, and Minimalizing. I rationalize by forming something that I like to think helps another person through there hardships. Small bits and pieces are for me to coup with things that I can not bring myself to admit I need to rationalize to be able to accept.

My rationalization for myself buried into the words of this post is simply this. I search for something that can not be searched for. Love is something that comes when you are completely true to yourself and that is what beats all odds.

Find yourself for what you search for,

-NK

First Day of Classes Fall '09

2009-01-12T14:13:00.000-08:00

Thus far I have found that I may have a solid time for a writing group that I want to start with two of my friends, I have made two people upset, and they walked out of the building and I have found that I know half the class, either because of other classes or because I live in a small community.

Three of us, two friends and myself, are forming a Writers' Collective. One of the friends is my cousin and the other is a mutual long time friend of both of us. Really we are all comfortable enough to show our works to one another and accept the criticism given. I still think that the fine details will take some working. I am thrilled, for the most part because I have a hard time working for myself, but if my pride is at stake because I said I would do something for someone else, nothing can hold me back. I also think that this will be a jump start to our writing careers and a strengthening of our already strong friendships.

As for the two people that got upset and left the building, the class that I have at six tonight was originally scheduled for 4 to 645. A conflict in the teacher schedule had the class pushed back to 6 to 845. I learned back in my senior year of high school, that I never wanted to go to work and a class in the same day. And for the most part it has been one of the best decisions as far as my education goes. But when I notified two others that the class had been pushed back, one left and may come back; she was upset that the class would run so late. Another got mad and left because of work later tonight. I believe the flavor was "Well screw that, I have to work."

There are some benefits and some down falls to having people that I know in a class.
The benefits are rides after class and study partners when the information gets think. Downfalls, their are so many people that I know that are going to be in this class, that the personae that I have build will meet and clash, in their perception of me anyway. I am not complete sure of why or how I do it but, when in situations with certain people, I make a persona to fit the occasion. The actual realization of this just happened in the form of an epiphany while trying to best convey what the downfalls of having many people, that know me otherwise, in the same class. Being that this class is Introduction to Psychology, I may just find out what it is that I am doing with this whole personification thing.

Prior to starting this post I sat down with a fellow student and spread Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog once again. I enjoy watching it, and now that I have seen it a few times I like to gauge what certain people think is funny. I have yet to find a person that thought it was horrible, so it may be worth a look. Written and Produced By Joss Whendon and starring Neil Patrick Harris. The protagonist is an up-and-coming super villain, Dr. Horrible, and the antagonist is Captain Hammer: Corporate Tool, played by Nathan Fillion (The actor that played Malcolm Reynolds in Joss Whendon's Firefly series.) Felicia Day creates the classic love triangle...

Well it is off to the races (Time for class)

-NK

The Fight to Write.

2008-12-29T04:50:00.000-08:00

The semester ended, I pulled two A's, a B and a C with a C- in the lab. Perfectly maintaining my 3.14 GPA. But none of that really got me any closer to writing anything, in most cases it actually detoured my efforts.

I went on a weeks vacation, I got my tattoo, I got my driver's permit, and I managed to make an almost liquid version of pumpkin fudge. The time off gave me time to think more on my idea for the Fantasy based Autobiography, but I was too far from my keys and the drafting I had already done.

Got all of my paintings for xmas done, I had four left to do and I managed to paint five of them. Between painting and a head cold I managed to get no writing done.

This time of year work is increasingly boring, this year actually seems to be worse. There are four people in the department that have not been there as long as I have, and I still think my job is at risk. It may just be paranoia, but I have not seen the amount of business that I am used to.

Between drinking and spending time with friends and family my free time has flushed right on by. Currently I should be moving about and trying to find some breakfast item, but it has been so long since I have gotten anything done I think my tools are getting rusty.

Women have had the continued ability to give me no chance whatsoever. What state is the world in when people complain about being single but do not go on dates? Honestly, I understand that finding someone that is compatible is a hard task and it takes some trying, but no one is trying back. I have been on one date in my life, I learned a lot about my likes, my dislikes, my strengths, my weaknesses. Finding that I was not compatible on a date was much more helpful then someone telling me that they just got over a long relationship and they do not want anything serious, so they won't go on a date.

As far as I can piece things together, no one really knows how to come across someone that it compatible, in most cases it is just something that eventually clicks. I am just enjoy having the company of a women, I literally like talking about the view of the world with them, their hopes and dreams. I find women much easier to talk to, but they all think that when I ask them to go on a date that I just want to take them home. In all honesty I have had a women I knew very little about and it was the most damaging thing that I ever did to myself. I was reading Alan Alda's first book 'Never Have Your Dog Stuffed' and the line "the world is a place of naked women, drinking, smoking and laughing into the early morning." (para, the book is at my father's) That was about the late forties early fifties, right when people where entering an age of being that they did not completely understand. America, if not the world, continued to progress in this manner; the important things are left not talked about and people deny anything that they would have to put effort into understanding. People continued to drink and smoke, and the drinking and smoking was so great they found other recreational drugs to do, people get to a state were they make choices that would not normally make and then do something that they are ashamed about, and instead of progressing and moving on, they turn to drugs and alcohol even more, or they stay with that abusive person, or they shut themselves off from the world, or they play video games and movies until there brain can only function if all the work has been done for them.

I was standing in my kitchen listening to my nephews watch old episodes of Spider-Man, I used to watch the show when I was a kid but I never really analyzed what was going on with the scripting and progression of the show. Every line either added an unnecessary amount of drama to the story or it told you what was going on. No detail was spared to a viewer and the plot moved so fast that there was no real way for any of it to sink into a person, it just hit hard and then faded away to the next show. I found myself knowing exactly why all the children in my generation were diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, we all grew up in front of the television. How could a class, which moves at the pace of the average learner, keep up with that of a television. The more kids watched TV the more the class had to slow down because no one understood what was going on.

TV is an abused commodity, the television that is housed in my living room is never off, it is on during the day to entertain the dog and give my mother the sense of security that a stranger would not break in if the TV is on, and it is on at night because my mom sleeps 'better' with it on. Sense I was given the option, my TV is nowhere near my bed. Bedrooms are for thinking, reading, lovemaking, and sleeping, not watching TV.

I think the largest thing that has keep me from writing is all the free time that I have, my schedule is so fluid that I can't find the time to sit down and do some real writing. This is just a necessary reach out to the writer inside of myself, a plea to have him take hold and force me to write no matter what the deterrents.

Unfortunately this forty minute writing block has no time to flourish any further.

-NK

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road.

2008-12-09T10:03:00.000-08:00

I have alway enjoyed Green Day's Good Riddance. Even since it played as I walked into the auditorium for my eight grade graduation, it has held a special place in my heart. When it comes on, I feel like singing it, and most of the time I do.

Today is much like all the other times that I have really been able to understand the song. Today is that last day that this blog is mandatory, this means that it will slowly fade as something else comes along. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for years, but one day in the future this blog will become something that I have to give up in order to keep moving as a person. With that noted I wanted to discuss how it has affected me as a person.

1) My writing confidence has improved, I have one piece that I did here that will be published in the Eyrie. In the book 'On Becoming a Novelist' by John Gardner, Publishers like to see that you have been published. So I will write and write and when I am done, I will submit and submit. Few things here few things there. And when it comes time to publish the books that I worked hard on, and want to have in circulation, I will be an known entity.
2) My writing ability has improved, I know where some of my strengths and weaknesses are as a writer. Knowing when and where to work hard, helps in effective productivity.
3) I have settled a few of my differences. Work is not as aggravating, school not a tiring, and time with friends is full of laughs. Some do to writing about them, some do to thinking about them to write them, some because I had the time to think about them because I had less on my plate.

That's about all I can directly relate to the class.

I plan on working on a few things, and if I have the time I will post small tidbits here as the months go on.

Another turning point, A fork stuck in the road.

-NK

(W15.2) I Like to talk with myself.

2008-12-09T09:22:00.000-08:00

The semester is ending and I am still a year and a half away from an Associates. Between school and the part time job to pay for school, and the down time spent relaxing from them, I have not been able to make a clear cut path for what I want to do when school is over. There are a few things that I know I want.

1) I want to be a writer.
2) I want to be a father.
3) I want to be healthy enough to enjoy both.

To be a writer I need.

1) To write complete works.
2) Maintain Creativity.
3) Learn the best way to introduce the information, so that it conveys the message or tells the story; in a way that will be appealing to publishers.

To be a father I need.

1) To find, gain the favor of and live with a female.
2) Maintain a relationship throughout the birthing of the child.
3) Be there while the child grows up.

To be healthy to enjoy both.

1) Maintain the basic necessities, and limit excess.
2) Set and hold Goals.
3) Listen to my own advice.

Written down on the page it does not look like much, but the rest of the world, the things that I am passing up, the things that interject into the day, the simple fact of figuring which goal is more important when. Maybe I should restate what I want to be with more adjectives.

1) I want to be the a writer, who's books are on the night stand of millions.
2) I want to be the best father, one that is far superior then I can even currently imagine.
3) I want to be healthy enough to enjoy it, be able to take in every moment and savor every last detail. The good, the bad and the horrible tragedies of it all.

To be a writer.

1) My books need to develop characters and plots that speak to people
2) The books have to be written in a way that publishers will be drawn to them and readers will fall in love with them
3) I need to speak with every ounce of myself and create books that hold different meanings for everyone that looks in them.

To be a Father.

1) I need to cut away the right amount of lust, and find the person that loves me for me, and I them for them.
2) I need to be strong and caring, providing and supportive, Positive to Positive, Negative to Negative.
3) I need to pay attention, slow down, focus, listen, watch, teach, and know when to let go.

To be Healthy and enjoy it.

1) I need to fall to the passion of the pen, and the lust of the feeling of the keys under my fingers.
2) Feel, accept, understand, continue, rise above.
3) I need to laugh at things that got me mad, love things that made me laugh and cry, dance when my feet want to move, sing when the day has me down.

Now it seems near impossible. I cant imagine I could get myself out of the way long enough to do all of that. How about this,

1) Write and publish books.
2) Get married and have kids.
3) Enjoy it no matter what my health.

There is a bucket list that I can be content with.

-NK

(W15.1) Quotes, Questions and Last Words.

2008-12-09T09:13:00.000-08:00

Nick walks into NFC’s office

Nick- Hi, how are you today?
NFC- Oh hey Nick, what are you doing here?
Nick- I have a class in 45 minutes, can I just wait here.
NFC- Sure.
Nick- So, Pope Nicholas Francis Christopher.
NFC- yeah?
Nick- How could there be a God?
NFC- I guess it is a perspective thing...
Nick- WHAT
NFC- I follow my path to God, you follow the one that you think is right, and we all will stand before God to be Judged.

Everett walks in

Nick- Hey Everett
Everett- Nick, right?
Nick- Yeah.
NFC- Well hey there stranger, what brings you here?
Everett- B double E double R U N, Beer Run.
Nick-Man I love this song
Everett- You wanna come?
NFC- That would be fun, but I can't I have to get packed.
Everett- Well I have to run,

Everett exits. Nick’s teacher walks by.

NFC- Wow that's great, you still working.
Nick- Philosophy: 100 Essential Thinkers.
NFC- Yeah
Nick- EMCC
NFC- Oh, you teach there?
Nick- Kinda ironic isn't it.
NFC- Things are much more formal.
Nick- Well I am going to go to class, I saw the teacher walk by earlier.
NFC-well do come back.

-NK (A pseudonym will suit me just fine in my writing career)

(16,1) BEH Entry #8: Real life Re; Run

2008-12-09T05:26:00.000-08:00

7:00pm- I got out of work, this time I was lucky enough to have a hat, I still was cold. Even though I had accommodated for the weather, the weather got colder.

7:30- A toaster is a good way to make a warm sandwich. While the bread was toasting I held a plate with the cheese in and meat above it, I found that this warmed my hands more then it heated the food, which was all the more reason to do it. If you stare intently at a toaster, the bread popping will jump you like a jack in the box.

8:00- E-mail, Instant Message, Facebook... time flies when you submit yourself to the internet.

9:39- At about nine o'clock the internet lost its appeal, but the warmth had just returned to my bones, and I knew how cold it was out there. I bundled up, for the first ten minutes I stay fairly warm. Then the cold started to set into my fingers and toes. If I did not know any better I would say it was mid January already.

10:00- I played "The Patriot", more because I wanted to have something going that would be less likely to draw my attention, but I also wanted something to break up the monotonous rhythm of memorizing words for a lab test. Four more days and I am free from school for a few short weeks.

12:10am- I know that when 8am is on the other side of sleep, I want to get to bed around 12. I shut everything off and hit the pillow.

Battle Stats-

1) My life at the least, falls into a rhythm and it is hard to interject new things into the rhythm.
2) I am not sure what is better, a toaster or a toaster oven; sure the oven makes great sandwiches, but it won't jump you as the bread pops up.
3) I am beginning to believe that the saying "I would rather the cold to the hot, in the cold I can put more on, the heat I can only take so much off." is something that people say to deny that they are really cold, and it sucks.
4) One discussion on Instant Massager, led me to thinking that I need to start forming the writing group I want. I figure four people, meeting once a week for at least two hours a session. I already call it 'The Writer's Collective' Certain appeal to an official name.
5) Nine to five, is not my ideal life style, and I have a distaste for deadlines. I guess the trick is to have it all done before you plan to start.

(16.1) BEH Entry #7: Yeah,yeah. Tomorrow.

2008-12-08T05:45:00.000-08:00

A day full of the moving of frozen Dihydrogen Monoxide and fifteen minutes of the song that never ends.

8:02pm- I was in the mood for raspberry ginger ale. I grabbed the usual Adirondack, and then walked by a display of the Schweppes Raspberry Ginger Ale! Well I am one for trying new things, and I just had to know if it was better then the Adirondack; I grabbed the Schweppes, also. I got to the line and there in front of me, was a women and her son buying 9 boxes of thirty pounds of butter. I had gone to school with the womens daughter; amazingly when you are a deli sales associate you learn who everyone parents are. I commented on the butter 'What are you guys making the largest slip and slide?' Unfortunately for me they were not in fact making a large slip and slide, the butter was for the food pantry. One of my old cross country buddies was the bagger and he thought it was a good joke, and that the butter would make a good slip and slide. I traded pleasantries with the women on how her daughter was doing.

20:18:01- I chit chatted with the front end and then headed home. The Schweppes tasted more like raspberry, hit the tongue softer and did not have the same initial after taste, the jury is still out. I only had my work hat, and the wind blew straight into my face. I started to pull forth lyrics of songs to make the walk more enjoyable. Which resulted in my having no idea if it was snowing when I got home.

8:40- I laid down on my couch and my back started to melt into the cushion. I discussed trip plans with some friends, I go to Portland on Sunday. By the time I had discussed all that I needed my body no longer wanted to move, it had relaxed just fine.

9:36- What is it that makes a dog take five times longer to go, when the cold air is cutting through your clothes? I know that factually no additional time was taken on the walk, but the second I decided that I was going to wait for him to go and then return, it seemed like he was going to take his time and survey the options available to him.

10:00- I threw my Chinese leftovers and a dish of fried scallops into a bowl, either I was exceedingly hungry or sweet and sour fried scallops is delicious. I grabbed two of the couch cushions and doubled them up to make the couch more comfortable, my lounge is more inviting then my room. I put in 'The Patriot' with Mel Gibson. The onset of my father's favorite line 'I am a parent, I do not have any principals,' the movie drew me in and I watched intently. I started to watch for the details of the story, and the camera angles. When the leader if the British troops said 'The Hierarchy of the new world will be land owners,I realized how different America would be today if they had won the war. Many freedoms may have never been gained. Rights of Africans and women may never have come about. The rich, the working class, the slaves. This nation became a strong and powerful nation based on its views of equality, but now that white Americans are a minority it seems that most references toward equality were for white upperclassmen. I do not believe that the dream was to advance whites, I think it was meant to house everyone. But because the population of the government officials were white males, it started to slip away and become less clear.

12:10am- I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

Battle Stats-
1) I love Raspberry Ginger Ale.
2) Nostalgia feel weird in the bottom of my stomach.
3) I am a know commodity, people know my first name.
4) If I have to choose between gloves or hat, I choose hat.
5) Tension and Relaxation of the back muscles while reading a book, lessen the sore back from shoveling snow.
6) I can play through every one of my movies just by looking at the title, and I have over a hundred of them.
7) If you focus on something it takes longer than it would if you focus on something else. e.g. the walk home in the cold, and the dog going to the bathroom.
8) America is a great nation that is falling to Greed.
9) I never want to go muzzle to muzzle with the red coats in an open field.

(16.1) BEH Entry #6: A Mile of Darkness.

2008-12-07T06:14:00.000-08:00

Four o'clock, Five o'clock...Work.

5:57pm- Work had gone on long enough; I have found that if I ask to leave three minutes early, I have to stay till the end of the day, if I walk out and say goodbye, I go home three minutes early. Some days, I just need to leave a few minutes early; normally I need to leave when there is nothing to do.

(18:42:57)- The receipt printed from the self check out. One of my work shoes has a split from side to side that goes to the toes. I bought a new set of shoes, half a size up, and a set of boxers. Instead of walking the two miles home, I walked the one and a half miles to my father's.

7:25- I burned through three nights of leftovers, my dad wanted to make sure that I was eating well. Most nights he is in bed around 7, but he wanted to spend time with me.

8:02- I followed one of the quotes a co-worker told me; 'You have to learn from the mistakes of others. You won't live long enough to make them all yourself.' -Hyman G. Rickover. I watched the movie 'Step-Brothers', as many of Will Ferrel's movies there were a few scenes that were over the top. The movie is about a 39 year old and a 40 year old that still live at home, and they become step-brothers.

10:37- "The Darjeeling Limited." A movie about three brothers on a train. I was not really all that interested in the movie, so I did not pay attention.

12:45am- The movie that I had rented to watch went in, "X-Files: I Want to Believe." I had yet to see an X-Files show, and I still have not.

And the Battle of the evening left ruins, the lessons surfaced slowly:
1) The economy is in ruins, and you work just hard enough to not get fired, but not hard enough to not be able to better your chances in the future.
2) This town needs lighted side walks, something that I have believed for years, but about the third time I rolled my ankle while trying to walk on the worn small shoulder.
3) I have to set goals and live up to them and get the heck out of dodge. Living starts when you start living.
4) My sister knows me better then I know myself. She can read people by the tone they say something in, even if are unaware of the tone; which is far different from the way I read people, the way they word there sentences and how long it take to come up with an answer.

-NK

(16.1) BEH Entry #5: Chinese Food

2008-12-06T05:27:00.000-08:00

Work was physically draining, which set the tone for the evening.

9:05pm- I got home and there on the stove was a bag of Chinese food. Sweet and Sour Chicken and and an order of Crab Rangoons. I devoured all but three of the crab rangoons, and then eat four peices of chicken on rice covered in sweet and sour sauce.

9:36- I took the dog for his walk. I could actually tell that it was cold out, which means that it was really cold out. My guess would be close the freezing. If I had put on pants, instead of winter pajamas and shoes instead of house slippers, I would not have noticed how cold it was.

10:00- Realizing that I had not calmed down at all from work and I was hopped up on Chinese food, I watched Lewis Black on Comedy Central. Most of the jokes I had heard about but never seen him deliver. I enjoy how he tells the joke more then the jokes themselves, and most of the cursing and some of the topics I blame on what people are stressing over. I was on the internet, but nothing caught my attention, my instant messenger was not signing in to half of my accounts.

11:30- Seeing that time was moving much faster then I would like, I started to paint. I did all three of my small pieces and the last large piece, start to finish. For the most part I surprised myself at the outcome of the paintings. Most of the time I have no idea what I am working at, I put charcoal lines down on the paper. When I start to put paint about 80% of the lines get erased immediately, only darkening the paint slightly. Then I just add paint as I see fit; the first three paintings where for the younger members of the family. I decided that I would paint a piece for my nephews this year, they are 5 and 6. I am not sure what the immediate reaction will be but I think that the lesson should be learned; Christmas is about family and friends, joy not toy. This last Black Friday, I realized that too many people have lost the Christmas spirit. Three people died on Black Friday, greed caused the deaths of three people! So I am painting Christmas, all but one gift I am giving is paintings, joy not toy.

1:00am- Beaten and battered, the Chinese food wearing off. I slept on my couch again; my lounge is heated and my room is not, and I still feel a little sick. I watched the uncut unedited comedian as I fell asleep, Galakinokis (sp). He was over the top, but I could see some risks in his style and I liked the risks.

Lessons learned in the battle of the evening hours-
1) Work after 8pm is still something that I only want to do in stride.
2) Chinese food, the Americanized version anyway, is bad for you and tastes really really really good.
3) There are huge problems in the American Culture. Food to start, the way that we accommodate our whims, and the way that people capitalize on the fact that we accommodate our whims. There were two commercials that made it into every break in the 1am show, Girls Gone Wild: Wildest Bar and Lypozene. Skinny Drunk women getting naked for a t-shirt and a drug that does not ask you to change your diet or routine to help you lose weight; that sums up the state of the American Culture.
4) I need to reupholster my couch soon. It is a sectional couch and the springs are worn out.
5) I have my ups and downs when it comes to the lack of culture in America; I spend hours a day doing nothing and reflecting on nothing but I also paint to show my belief that Christmas has nothing to do with toys.

-NK

(16.1) BEH Entry #4: Health and Leisure

2008-12-05T07:36:00.000-08:00

6:45pm- My class got out and I headed home. The walk like the rest of the day, led me to believe that I was coming down with or had a cold. My sinuses felt weird and I was drowsy. Any way you slice it I was overdrawn.

7:12- After some convincing, my mother and I went to the store. I needed to get my schedule and the refrigerator was pretty bare. I talked to a follow deli associate, who was on a smoke break, gaining myself a possible hour and a half more to today's shift. Other then the common place groceries I got a two liter of Adirondack Raspberry Ginger Ale. As the evening hours tolled on it was becoming clear that an early night was coming and ginger ale was going to be a useful tool in the middle of the night. When I have a cold I will roll over in my sleep and my throat will be so dry I wake up, ginger ale seems to work the best at soothing my throat.

8:20- I put Spiderman 3 in and surfed the internet. I would turn to watch some of my favored scenes, but otherwise I was buried in the superficial world that is the internet.

9:16- I got up and took the dog for his walk, I felt horrid. Something about telling myself that I am going to lay down until I am better and then getting up to walk the dog, just makes me feel down and out. One person in my town knows a car that is the same as the one in the beginning of the game Need for Speed 2. I was watching it to see if it was going to stop at one of the local 'shops'. I think that owner thought I was impressed that they had the car, they spun it around in the church parking lot. I knew they were just showing off so I payed no mind, I have a strong dislike for people that have nothing better to do then prove they are cool because they wasted money on a stupid car.

Sometime after 10- While watching the movie from my couch I feel asleep, the rest of my evening belonged to dreams and raspberry ginger ale.

Lessons learned in the battle of the evening-
1) When your starting to get sick, be sick. I feel great now that I got a more then full nights sleep.
2) Grocery shopping with your mother is still embarrassing, but if you make the best of it, it works out fine.
3) I need to do something about my couch because I woke up a few times in back pain or when one of my arms fell asleep.
4) Adirondack, is Adirondack not A-ron-dack, some how I never noticed the di before.
5) From the movie that I barely watched, I understood some of my struggles with relationships. Timing plays a large roll. Keeping alert to the situation is good. And resolve things when you can, with the other person, but for the most part you need to have a solution for yourself.

(W16.1) BEH Entry #3: Family Matters

2008-12-04T10:33:00.000-08:00

To stay true to form I am going to skip out on the events leading to the evening, though math class was it's own little adventure.

8:30pm- After I had changed out of the pants that had a hole in the front of them big enough to put a hand through, I called my sister. My niece had gotten the last of a life long series of operations, and she wanted Jell-o. My sister had had a few beers and as a rule would not drive, my mother was in bed and would not get up (I would like to note that I had told her it would be a good idea to go and visit earlier in the day.)

9:02- While ringing up my Jell-o and Jaeger , the cashier told her story of the first time that she drank: 'They kept passing me Jell-o shots, and then I did four Jaeger Bombs, and drank six Smirnoff Twisted. I Blacked out most the night, so this is the story my friends told me. This was the first time I drank, and I have not partied like that in a long time.'

9:34- I arrived at my destination and called my mother. 'You are there already?' she said.
'Yeah I tried to tell you I am the best walker in town.', 'Yeah but I thought you had to buy Jell-o at the store.',' I did.' What amuses me most is that she says she worries when I am out, and she told me many times not to go because it was dark. She was asleep when I called, and if I were to only walk around when it was light out I would have a tight schedule.

11somthing: I put in 'The Departed' and my sister and I chit chatted about this that and the other thing. Someone had told her that I had been arrested because I was in a car that had drugs in it. I did not even know people talked about me, much less that they make up pretty intense rumors. I have been in the passenger seat of a few cars that got pulled over, most of which it was a headlight or tail light 'out'.

About 20minutes after the movie ended: I read the Final Chapter of my book. It may have been the 99 Bananas and Jaeger talking, but it seemed as though Alan knew exactly who I was, what I was doing, and what I should be doing.

From the time I finished the book to the time I feel asleep (about an hour): I stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out what I wanted to do with the pearl of wisdom that Alan Alda had written in the book. The final chapter was like reading all of the intense parts of the book, all at once. In a few weeks I plan to read it over, one because I will remember the message better and two because it is a profound message that I think has some merit.

2:36am- I sent the a text message that read: 'YOU KNOW, OTHER THAN TEACHERS, NO ONE HAS TOLD ME I WAS WORTH ANYTHING?' It was more something that I had to say because it was a true statement than something I was upset about. I have a solid drunk text person, I assume that at some point she will ask me to stop; but until then it is great just to say the things that seem important to say.

Lessons Learned in the Battle of the Evening Hours:
1) Family Matters. I think of it as duel purpose, when there is a family matter, family matters. That is one of the reasons I love holidays. My Dad loves thanksgiving, Christmas is hard but it is family bonding time. Cathy had more Christmas Cheer then anyone I have ever met.
2) People talk about me, I was not aware that I was talk worthy. And it seems to an extent that I either look like someone that got arrested or I have an enemy.
3) Pearls of wisdom are everywhere, and life is worth slowing down to enjoy. (see there is the resemblance of a pearl of wisdom right there, slow down and enjoy the ride.)
4) I enjoy starting the piece with an odd detail of the events prior to the evening hours. Just tip toeing around the boundaries of the piece.
5) I know people better then they themselves will admit, normally because they tell me things they will never tell anyone else.

-NK

(W16.1) BEH Entry #2: Mentally Wiped

2008-12-03T08:02:00.000-08:00

Five hours of Anatomy and Physiology has a way of taxing me mentally. So much so that anything school related was the last thing on my mind when I got home.

8:30pm- I took the dog for a walk, the evening was surprisingly warmer then half the evenings last month. My mind was still racing from class. In an average class we go over about two hundred terms that you have to remember, by the end of it you remember more of the jokes to lighten the mood then the actual information.

9:00- I put in one of my old classics, Constantine. Sure the movie was released in 2005 five, but it was in the days when I devoured movies. The movie is based of a comic series,(skip the rest of the paragraph if you plan to watch it.) the one thing that I liked about it most, is that almost every line is a foreshadow to what will happen later on in the movie. I have seen it enough times so that I know when my favorite lines and scenes are coming up, but when I watched it last night I was looking for what lines drew a picture of something else later on. I found humor in some of the lines because it either told what would happen, or it told the opposite of what would happen. People have told me that it is a boring movie, I can see why they would say that. As the movie progresses it requires to to recall a lot of things that happened to be able to piece the story together, some of the details in the beginning explain the actions in the end; most of these defining details are one line of dialog.

11:00- The best thing about having the five hour A and P class, having a better understanding of one line in the latest episode of House. The show airs while the last hour of class is taking place, so I relay on the Digital Cable Box to tape it for me and I have to wait for my mother to stop using the TV it is attached to. Other then knowing that when RNs take your vitals, they look at your chest to take your normal breathing number, the class was not directly related to the episode.

12:00am- I spent an hour on one small piece of homework. Manly because while I was working on it I was getting my daily dose of the internet. I spent less then fifteen minutes on the actual piece of paper, but that was all it needed to get filled out; got to love the busy work, I thought I had gotten to the point where busy work was an option for those that gained from doing it. Truthful busy work places a sour taste in my mouth about actually learning the information. In a class that 80% of the information is in the lecture, I can ace without doing anything. In a class where 30% of the information is in the chapters and 70% is in the lecture, only 60% of the information sinks in; I relate this to the fact that when I see and hear the same information it is more likely to get remembered, and all of it is tested on.

1:00- Finished one painting, and start and finished another. When I was finished the second one I laid down on the floor and closed my eyes. I could feel my eyes moving, but if I put my hand one my eye lid they would not be moving. While I am painting I just move the brush and my eyes will try to line things up and match them to places around the painting, I was unaware my eyes could move that fast. I just got used to it while I was painting and lost track of it; it was like when I watch a movie everything but the TV fades away.

2:00- After I took time to let my eyes relax I read, my mind wandered. I figured that it might after a long day of thinking of topics that it normally would just except as facts and move on. Alan had a good point and somehow I retained all the information in the chapter without really paying attention to it. He discussed the topic of Celebrity, one of the biggest reasons I do not want to be a famous author. To be an author is my goal, to make it what I live on is a goal; to have people mailing me because they want me to give them the meaning of life, or they want to talk to me as though I was better then someone else, not my cup of tea.

The lessons learned from the battle of the evening.
1) Five hour lecture plus lab, is not how I learn in the least.
2) I have an amazing ability to focus on something
3) A pseudonym will suit me just fine in my writing career

(W16.1) BEH Entry #1: Whim of the Procrastinator

2008-12-02T07:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was one of the rare full days off; no school and no work. So I am going to skip through the intriguing laundry with my mother story.

7:00pm- My niece had decided that she did not want to go out and eat, so I called up my cousin and asked if I could come over. I had two underlining goals in mind for this evening. First was to get a look at the painting of mine, that I had given my cousin after he had stated liking several times. The second goal was to see him and his girlfriend together. All of my Christmas painting are themed, theirs is a joint painting. I could not easily recall their actions together and wanted a fresh look at it. During my visit, my cousin and I confirmed that we were in fact getting really tried of Halo 3, it has just lost its flavor. I also got to see the first three episodes of 'How I met your mother.' It was way better then I thought it would be. So much so that, I do not plan to watch it over there again. I have a problem paying attention to people while a show is drawing me in. Watching something that I enjoy and have never seen is not a good way to spend time with people. On my walk home I tried to think of how I wanted to spend my evening....

10:00- One hour late for our evening walk, the dog followed me around and nearly dropped at the knee when I grabbed his leash. Other then trying to think of the best way to paint the painting, my mind was set on whether or not I should do the next activity. It was not on the list but was something that I wanted to do.

10:20- I donned a pair of shorts, my orange fleece jacket and an old pair of sneakers. I stood outside; for a few minutes I just tried to focus on controlling my breathing and then, I ran. For the first time since the cross country season ended in 2005. I had made a few attempts but I allowed chest pain to stop me almost immediately each time. This time I was pretty certain that it was all in my head. I ran and I told my self that I was going to run a three mile course, one of the runs I used to do for practice. It hurt, but in all the ways that I knew it would; I ran through it. For the first time in three years I felt I was in control of everything to come.

11:00- The allure of the internet overcame me, I needed to just calm down before I started to paint. There are a few friends that I like to share bits of my day with. One, an old cross country buddy, was on; whenever I talk to him it is like talking to an younger version of myself. I try to give him all the pearls of wisdom that I have, knowing full well that he will hit the same walls that I did. I know that most life lessons are best learned through the trail and error process, but I have found that failure hurts and I wish it on no one.

12:00am- I put Juno in my laptop and started painting. Painting is one of the things that I do without really understanding the process. It is much like my ability to figure people out, it is a tool that helps me write characters; I know how to read what I feel, so I can paint it. While I was painting a piece a few weeks ago I realized that if I focus on one person and think of all the moments with them, I can make a piece that stands out. I just think about the person and start grabbing paint, the emotions come and go. Each one only registering long enough to but the paint on the canvas. I finished two that had already been started, started and finished one, and started another. Completely taxing my creativity.

1:30- I am not really sure how I get sucked into the internet so easily, for the most part I am just waiting for something to happen. I have my facebook, this blog, the Eng 162 blog, dictionary.com, wikipedia, and my yahoo mail load up instantly. From there I just check to see what has changed and see if there is anyone on my instant messenger list.

2:15- I read from Alan Alda's 'What I Overheard While I Was Talking to Myself.' A book about speeches that he has given over the years and what they meant to him later. The book is more recent then any that I have read in a while. I read a chapter on a speech that he gave to scientists, the overall theme was to learn to take yourself with a grain of salt. He discussed how he had purposely failed something his father wanted him to do, because he thought it would lead him away from where he wanted to be. I think I understand what he is saying, but I do not think I am anywhere near being able to accomplish it. Though, I may have succeeded earlier in the evening though, when I pursued running. A burning desire, that I had told myself was impossible.

3:05-I closed my eyes and laid there until I drifted to sleep.

I think that I have to start to cast a label on myself aside. Writing all of this I have come to the conclusion that I am a very diverse person, that is far from the boring and plain person I tell myself that I am. It is like my Intro to Sociology teacher used to say, "You can't unlearn something, but you can RE-learn something."

-NK

(W14) My Views on Religion: The in depth look.

2008-12-01T12:13:00.000-08:00

It is a struggle. When I was thirteen years old I lost a three year old nephew to cancer, my father had a heart attack, one of my sisters was diagnosed with cancer, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. When I was Fourteen, just as everything started to level out, my sister died of a blood clot.

I started to go to mass every week, and then my mother hip started to bother her, so we stopped going. Then the pastor, who I had started to learn about God from, was removed from the church for an incident that happened when he was in his early twenties. I have not entered that building in seven years, it no longer houses keys to the afterlife for me.

My nephew who was three, was a wonderful little boy. Without us telling him, he knew that he was to smile when a camera was out. There are mounds of pictures that follow him through his short life, more then half of which he was fighting death at every turn. He had touched the lives of everyone around him, bringing hope to the families of other ill children. The church was full of people, many of who I had never met or heard story of. All of them with a memory of a little boy that smiled and laughed and played whenever he got the chance.

My sister was twenty nine years old. She was a devote Catholic, she taught Sunday school for many years. She got her degree in education and was a school teacher for one year. To me she was like a mother. Our parents had gotten divorced when I was five, my mother had gotten a full time job and had gone back to college. My sister knew when I was having a bad day, my sister would get me to talk about stuff, my sister fought hard to teach me to read. Once again the church filled with people, once again there were many that I had never heard about and many that there was no story for. The one that I remember most, was a boy that she had taught that one year as a teacher. She had fought to teach him how to love learning, he knew how hard she had fought for him and he cried so hard that he buckled over and and his parents had to pick him off the ground.

Over the last seven years I have questioned over and over why they had died and I had survived, for the most part I felt guilty to still be alive. After I stopped going to church I lost faith in a higher power. How could there be a God? If there was a God things like this would not happen. If there was a God I would not feel this much pain inside of me.

The sister that lost her son, paved over her past. She has become a born again Christian. Her love for her church got me to sit down with her pastor. I asked him what his church was about. He told me that he taught that the bible housed the answers for everyone. He said "How could the bible not be the word of God, all of the stories told to different people come together so to give one message." He told me that Catholicism was not right and that every Catholic was just following a pattern that they were told they had to follow. Then he told me that I could not be saved by God unless I said the sinners prayer and then devoted the rest of my life to Jesus Christ. I asked 'What if I devoted myself to Christ but did not say the prayer?' And he replied "You will not be saved."

There were many things that I did not agree with in his statements. The first is that I have studied the bible from a stand point where it is the greatest wisdom story of all times. My Honors 101: Wisdom Stories From Antiquity. In the class I learned full well that the bible pieced together. We read in class two accounts that were not in the bible. The book of Mary Magdalene and the Book of Thomas. Both had all the same accounts that the ones that had made it into the bible did, but they placed Christ as a man. The to book described that they had witnessed accounts of emotions. We openly discussed the criteria that works needed to make it into the bible and that there was a comity that decided what books would make it into the bible. So when he said that the bible fit so well together because it was the Word of God, I could only think that it was the Word of God chosen by a group of Men, claiming they had the right to speak for God.

Secondly I did not believe that there was anything wrong with the current Catholic beliefs. Sure in the early history of Catholicism there was a group of corrupt men that sold rights of passage to Heaven. But that came to an end centuries ago. I can see that saying on prayer over and over could lead to nothing, but that is up to the person that prays the payers. The prayers are meant to make you think about God and reflect who you are in the eyes of God. The last rights is a ceremony for those that believe that they have made a mistake in their life; and for those that mean it, I see no reason they would not be granted into Heaven.

The third thing that I did not agree on was, I must say one prayer and follow one path; and that was the only way to be saved by God. This is where hatred and wars are made, not the road to salvation. If I was to believe that there was only one way to God, then I would have to think long and hard to make sure that I was following the correct path. Judaism, Christianity and the Muslim Religion all have one God, and there path is the only way to God. Christianity has a vast amount of sects, so many that if I were to stand on the roof of my house and count the crosses in the sky, I would be in the double digits before I started to strain my eyes. How could anyone of them claim that everyone else was going to die and not go to Heaven? What gave them the right to claim they were the only way to God?

Just last week I was talking to a man that I had prayed for. My niece was in pieces, she had a crush on this man and he had hit an eighteen wheeler that was hauling half of a double wide trailer, when his car swerved into the other lane. I prayed for him, because I knew that he had a little girl, I knew that he had been working too many hours to be able to sleep any decent amount, and I knew that my niece would be heart broken if he had died. Last week I talked with him and asked him what his survival rate was when the emergency crew had gotten there. "0%, they had called me dead. They life flighted me, but they were sure I was going to die. They could not call it until they had landed, but they knew for sure that I was going to die."

There was my proof of God, in black and white. The man that had 0% to live was standing in front of me, because I prayed for him. So I believe there is a God, I believed it before I prayed and I believed it whole heartedly when I prayed that day, and I would have believed it if he had said he was rated at 56% survival rate.

I am a Human, therefor I pass no right to claim that I have the answer to the path to God, but I know which one I plan to follow. I believe in God and the spirit of Jesus, but I do not believe in any written documentation about speaking to God or seeing Jesus. I do not believe that any man is condemned by the the religion he or she was raised in. I think that all go before God and are Judged. Weather or not one of the terrorist that flew a plane into the Twin towers on September 11th is going to go to Heaven or to Hell, is Gods choice alone. Personally based on what I know of the Muslim Jehudist Sect, each one of those men may stand a chance at going to Heaven, not because those actions were right; but because those were the only action that those men were taught. From the moment they are born they are told that they must kill themselves and countless others to make it to Heaven. If they had been offered a different choice and chose to kill any way then I would think differently about there chance at making it to Heaven.

I follow my path to God, you follow the one that you think is right, and we all will stand before God to be Judged.

-NK

(W16.1) Battle of the Evening Hours (BEH) Entry #0

2008-12-01T11:48:00.000-08:00

The end of the fall semester. Normally I would only worry about making sure all of my course work was done, but this year I have a few other things to fill up my evening hours. Maybe I will be forced to only do homework. Though I am pretty sure that I will be temped to stray until the last minute, and pump out work that is sup-par.

There is a list of activities that are battling for the few hours of evening between school and sleep, or work and sleep.

1.) Finish all of the work necessary for my four classes.
2.) Paint a painting for everyone on my X-mas list. I am going on a week long vacation after the semester ends. And all the days between the end of my vacation and Christmas itself are days that I will have to work, the dreaded black out days.
3.) Write for myself, I am trying to get myself going on all the projects that I have thought up over the last two years.
4.) Read to relax. This normally fits in every night, but varies from 20 minutes to two hours.
5.) Spend time with friends and family. This is a fluctuating thing that changes based on availability and necessity.
6.) Wasting time on the internet or watching television. The Great American Struggle, spend hours instantly gratifying the mind with noise and moving pictures, or progress as a person.

This Journal will follow me through the events that won the battle of the evening hours.

-NK

(W13) Rush to the Finish.

2008-11-20T11:13:00.000-08:00

The air came to slowly and pain rained throughout his body. Everything around started to fade into darkness, the tree was getting closer and closer. All of it was near an end, doubt started to fill his mind and he started to slow. He caught view of a man on the sideline.

The man was there to cheer on the man behind him. The man looked past him but pointed strait into his face. 'Him! YOU WILL PASS HIM!' Adrenaline rushed through the runners body and he kicked as fast and as hard as he ever had before.

Each part of his body moved with machine timing and everything became a blur of lights and an endless roar from the people on the sidelines. The burst of energy had shot him past an unknown amount of people, but no one had passed him. He had fought against the man in the crowd and won.

-NK

(W12) All but Dead.

2008-11-12T10:32:00.000-08:00

He died seven years ago, when he lost his sister he gave up on himself. His days became endless nights as he faded into sleep. All the things that made him human became function, surviving only to stay alive for others.

There in that state of numbness, pain and happiness died away. Everything was just another thing to do and be done with. He stopped growing for himself, he became a reckless entity and he destroyed all of what made him an individual.

When the world got to him and he could not hold in his feelings, he would open a tube of paint and just dissolve until the feeling had hit the canvas. Cutting out rational thought and planning, denying the truth of the work. Piling up the paintings and handing them off to the first person to say they liked them. Any feeling hurt, and the paintings were feelings in th raw form. To sit and look at them was to admit that it existed.

The paintings became the only thing he could open up to, the only way that he could speak to the world. All else faded and he became the words assigned to him. If someone told him he was loud he would speak up around them; if people told him he was odd, he could only come up with odd things to say around them; if people said he was nice, he would kill himself to be a good person; if people told him he would never go anywhere, he would stop moving and lay still for days.

The only thing he would do for himself is walk, whenever he knew he was lost he would walk. Sometimes he would be gone for hours. He would walk until his legs hurt, he would walk until he got to the point where all he could do was sleep.

Work, school, social interactions all became tasks that had to be done. Normalize, assimilate; become something to avoid people asking you who you are.
make accuses, just to hide from life. Grow without purpose, just to show you are still growing.

He died so much on the inside that his body started to hurt, his organs stated to fade with his will. He gave up on the world he knew and he started to live the life he had promised he would never enter.

Then one day he laughed, and to feel happy hurt and he knew it should not. He fought his worst enemy and started to live for himself. Now to look at him you would not know he is a man struggling to live again. He is too good at looking alive, but deep down inside himself he is forcing himself to walk. To search until he finds where he is and move toward where he should be.

One step at a time, making up the living he lost in the last seven years. Fighting to wake up and move forward; fragile but determined.

-NK

(W12) Personals

2008-11-10T09:34:00.000-08:00

Brief Description: Recently 21, 5'8" 230 lbs. Brown hair, brown eyes. goatee.

Likes: Walking, my dog, painting, live music, romantic comedies, talking, reading narrative history books, plays, musicals.

Dislikes: Horror movies, Pop Culture Icons, Sports, the lack of music on MTV and MTV 2.

Looks for in the opposite sex: Self confidence, defined character, goal oriented, can laugh at themselves, open minded, not afraid to speak their mind (especially if what is on their mind is a outlandish idea thought up for no purpose.)

About self: Works part time at a dead end job to pay for full time college. Lives at home with his mom and dog. Plans to be a writer of books in a few different genres. Has a uniquely attained sense of optimism that holds its own in the toughest of trails. Doesn't drive, prefers walking.

(W12) Gazebo

2008-11-08T22:46:00.000-08:00

A small glint of light could be seen in his eyes, a reflection of a street light off a boat on the river. He sat there atop the picnic table inside the gazebo, a leash held in his right hand. The tricolored beagle sheltie sniffing the cold cement pulling at the other end of the leash trying to follow a scent.

Headlights enter into the pier's parking lot. The man made a tuts and motions for the dog to sit and stay. His eyes squinted and widened as he tried to focus the car into his vision. The car stopped under the lights, the blue lights mounted on the top of the car where on mistakable.

The mans chest began to pound and his breath increased. The cop got out of the car and went the other direction, toward the restrooms. The man sat still holding the leash tight, the cop returned and flashed his flashlight over to the gazebo, the light struck the mans eyes, the cop stopped for a second.

The flashlight beam moved along the ground and went off, the cop got back into his car and it just sat there for ten minutes. The man peering over from time to time to see if the cop was going to come over. The engine revved and the car left the parking lot.

He breathed in deeply and shook the leash and the man and dog walked from the gazebo and disappeared from view on the other side of the parking lot.

-NK

RE: (W11) Broken Flip Flops

2008-11-06T15:47:00.000-08:00

My legs were sore, my ears were ringing and I just could not stay asleep. The clock ticked steady, the hour hand had moved from one side to the other and my eyes blurred. I stepped on the cover of my book, as I swung my legs off the bed. As I stood the world became fuzzy and red, I could feel my heart beat throbbing in my head. My pants rested on the box of Miller High life that housed the remaining four cans. My flip flops were in the large trash bag by the door. The signed cape was on top of the heap in the hall. The visions of a beautiful women dancing flashed in and out of my mind.

Twenty seven and a half hours earlier.

'NICK!'
'yeah?'
'Are you up, cause its 6'
'Yeah, but my alarm clock hasn't gone off yet.'
'Well I really want my face painted.'

First the coat of white, then let it dry, then the pink, then the red, then the black, and then some more red in case the nose falls off. It was not my best work but she looked like a clown when I was done.

I went upstairs and made the Iron on transfer. It took for ever to get the image right, I had a hard time finding a way to transverse the image. The iron smelt horrid, like burning plastic and heated metal. I went to my bedroom and napped to allow the transfer to cool. Sure enough, I had done it horridly wrong, as it turns out colored iron on transfers are completely different from white iron on transfers. There was just a white square on the back of my cape, I peeled it off to make sure the R was not just hidden under this odd white layer, nope. Alright iron it back on then.

I took my shower and got ready for work, I made a mad dash to marker the R onto the back and decided it would just have to do.

My 11 to 8 shift moved right along; having a hippy, vampire and chef as coworkers made it easier to get through the day.

My friends came to get me. Josh was dressed in womens pants and eye liner, and Ja was dressed in a Russian winter camo jump suit with fake blood running down it. They showed up an hour before I was out.

We went home and I put on my suit of armor made out of cardboard and duct tape. Standing in my yard and each downed a Mike's hard pomegranate lemonade, we walked by my work and I showed off my armor. We ducked into the woods and topped off another lemonade.

At the restaurant we were directed upstairs, the band had started already. The first set was fun I let myself move to the music a little. When the band took a break I showed off my armor and that had their symbol.

For the second set I went all out, I jumped up and down, just surrendering to the beat. The guy that works as the bands staff, who I later found out used to watch wrestling with my brother, gave me a free t-shirt.

The lead singer started his spiel for the costume contest; 'There are a lot of very sexy costumes, there are some very scary dead guys out there, but there is only one person that made his own RANT ARMOR!'

I walked up and they turned me around so the people could see the markered on R. The crowd screamed and I got the band to sign my cape. The bartender handed me two fifty dollar bills.

At 12:50 we started to run to make it to the gas station. I laughed out loud and started to sing 'B double E double R U N, Beer Run.' We got to my house I changed into the free t-shirt, my white camo pants and a blue and white stripped Old Navy button up, and my trusty flip flops.

I got to the party and introduced myself to a few people I did not know. While on my second beer I walked into the keyboardist, Eric, selecting a song.

'Man I love this song' he said.
'Then Sing it, and dance with it.' I looked him straight in the eye. The second the lyrics started up he was singing it. The drummer came in and we all swayed to the song as Eric sung word for word.

I talked to the Eric about flip flops and how the ones I had on had about ten thousand miles on them. On my fourth beer I noted the Eric's girlfriend and another girl dancing to Rap music. I wanted to dance with the other girl so I started to dance, and for the second song I got to dance with her. She was beautiful, so when I found that she was with another guy at the party I was not surprised. She told me to call her Ellie.

I met some other very interesting characters, one was carrying around Cap't Morgans and a liter of Coke, he offered me a shot a few times, and I took them. I gave him two of my beers and continued to chit chat about nothing.

Ellie and her boyfriend left, she thanked me for the dance.

My friends and I decided to go, and as I was climbing into my friends truck I snagged my flip flop on the door and snapped the piece into between my toes.

I got home and hit the bed around four.

-NK

(W11) Broken Flip Flops.

2008-11-04T10:29:00.000-08:00

My legs were sore, my ears were ringing and I just could not stay asleep. The clock ticked steady, the hour hand had moved from one side to the other and my eyes blurred. I stepped on the cover of my book, as I swung my legs off the bed. As I stood the world became fuzzy and red, I could feel my heart beat throbbing in my head. My pants rested on the box of Miller High life that housed the remaining four cans. My flip flops were in the large trash bag by the door. The signed cape was on top of the heap in the hall. The visions of a beautiful women dancing flashed in and out of my mind.

Twenty seven and a half hours earlier.

'NICK!'
'yeah?'
'Are you up, cause its 6'
'Yeah, but my alarm clock hasn't gone off yet.'
'Well I really want my face painted.'

First the coat of white, then let it dry, then the pink, then the red, then the black, and then some more red in case the nose falls off. It was not my best work but she looked like a clown when I was done.

I went upstairs and made the Iron on transfer. It took for ever to get the image right, I had a hard time finding a way to transverse the image. The iron smelt horrid, like burning plastic and heated metal. I went to my bedroom and napped to allow the transfer to cool. Sure enough, I had done it horridly wrong, as it turns out colored iron on transfers are completely different from white iron on transfers. There was just a white square on the back of my cape, I peeled it off to make sure the R was not just hidden under this odd white layer, nope. Alright iron it back on then.

I took my shower and got ready for work, I made a mad dash to marker the R onto the back and decided it would just have to do.

'Hey are you and Ja going tonight?'
'Yeah.'
'Alright I get out of work at 8 could you pick me up?'
'Sure well be there at 6 or something.'
'Not 6, 8.'
'Ok 8 then.'

My 11 to 8 shift moved right along; having a hippy, vampire and chef as coworkers made it easier to get through the day.

My friends, Josh dressed in womens pants and eye liner and Ja dressed in a Russian winter camo jump suit with fake blood running down it, showed up an hour before I was out. We went home and I put on my suit of armor made out of cardboard and duct tape.

We stood in my yard and each downed a Mike's hard pomegranate lemonade, we walked by my work and I showed off my armor. We ducked into the woods and topped off another lemonade.

We got to the restaurant and were directed upstairs, the band had started already. The first set was fun I let myself move to the music a little. When the band took a break I showed off my armor that had their symbol. I went to the bar and got a Hanakin. I ran into my high school art teacher and she was astounded that I was 21.

For the second set I went all out, I jumped up and down, just surrendering to the beat. The guy that works as the bands staff, who I later found out used to watch wrestling with my brother, gave me a free t-shirt.

The second set ended and it was time to have the costume contest. There were a group of women in high school soccer jerseys, there were a few punk rockers, and assortment of raised from the dead people.

The lead singer started his spiel 'There are a lot of very sexy costumes, there are some very scary dead guys out there, but there is only one person that made his own RANT ARMOR!'
I walked up and they turned me around so the people could see the markered on 'R'. The crowd screamed and I got the band to sign my cap. The bartender handed me two fifty dollar bills.

I got invited to a few after parties but I already had plans to go to one. We sat around for a bit, so Ja could talk to a girl. I could hear people talking about me and my armor, I got the date for their next show. We walked back, grabbed the bottles and started to run. We decided to grab drinks at the gas station and we only had ten minutes left till one.

I laughed out loud and started to sing 'B double E double R U N, Beer Run.' We got to my house I changed into the free t-shirt, my white camo pants and a blue and white stripped Old Navy button up, and my trusty flip flops. I stopped by my cousin's to see how his Halloween was going, he had no tricker treaters and bowls of candy. He had entertained a few of friends and had a good time.

I got to the party and introduced myself to a few people I did not know. While on my second beer I walked into the keyboardist, Eric, selecting a song.

'Man I love this song' he said.
'Then Sing it, and dance with it.' I looked him straight in the eye. The second the lyrics started up he was singing it. The drummer came in and we all swayed to the song as Eric sung word for word.

Walked around for a bit and chit chatted with friends and people I had just met. I talked to the Eric about flip flops and how the ones I had on had about ten thousand miles on them. On my fourth beer I noted the Eric's girlfriend and another girl dancing to Rap music. I wanted to dance with the other girl so I started to dance, and for the second song I got to dance with her. She was beautiful, so when I found that she was with another guy at the party I was not surprised. She told me to call her Ellie.

I met some other very interesting characters, one was carrying around Cap't Morgans and a liter of Coke, he offered me a shot a few times, and I took them. I gave him two of my beers and continued to chit chat about nothing.

Ellie and her boyfriend left she thanked me for the dance.

My friends and I decided to go, and as I was climbing into my friends truck I snagged my flip flop on the door and snapped the piece into between my toes.

I got home and hit the bed around four.

-NK

(10) Tandem

2008-11-04T09:39:00.000-08:00

The second year of Latin was with Gertrude Champe, her years had somehow found her teaching four of us Latin in a walk space between two other classrooms. She was always trying to push me as far as I could go, and she was always testing who I was.

I have run into her once, and she looked me right in the eye and said 'What happened Nick, I thought you would be off doing wonderful things now. You had such a wonderful mind.' Here she was standing years later, not the teacher pushing me further; but a mentor looking at a pupil that has failed to progress.

I used to work for a man that would crack a beer at nine in the morning, he was an outdoors-man. He would swear, say crude racist and sexist remarks; most of the time just to judge my reaction.

A few weeks back I went to the yearly party that he throws. I had a few drinks in me and he comes up and tells me that I should not drink so much. He was more drunk then I was, but he had a look that can not be mistaken. He had that look a dad would have when the police brought his son home.

From looking back at it all, I have not lived up to my potentials. I seem to place myself one step behind where I want to be. I close to expectations, and further down then the negative criticism given. In some areas I learned the wrong lesson and made the wrong choices. All of which I have to accept and relearn.

-NK

Journal Entry #12: The Tale of Sir Rantsalot

2008-11-04T06:53:00.000-08:00

A week ago I found out that Rant was playing at a restaurant, I knew a few of the members and had seen them before, so I decided to go.

While I was donning whole boxes on at work I decided that I could make a suit of armor out of duct tape and cardboard, it was a good enough idea for a costume and I always wanted a reason to make a cardboard suit of armor.

The first night I got a good start and then I started to taper off. I can honestly merit the finishing of my costume to '76 Olympic Decathlon Gold Medalist Bruce Jenner. I finally opened the book he wrote, my high school cross country teacher had given it to me for being most dedicated of 2005. While reading the first chapter I decided that I did in fact want to finish my costume.

All and all I spent about 20 bucks and six hours on the armor. I decided that it would be a good idea to place the bands symbol, an R, on the back. The night of Halloween I was looking at one of the best things I had crafted with my bare hands. I had even come up with a back story.

I was a knight of Rantopia. Where is my sword you ask, well all disputes of Rantopia are handled through concerts. Whole wars are waged just to see how loud they can make the crowd scream.

Keeping time with the music I found to be an easy and fun practice. Concerts are the only place where I can jump up and down, and yell at the top of my lungs; and people think it is great. I was just having fun, and one of the stuff members in the crowd came over, 'What size shirt are you?' He just gave me a shirt for being me, how great is that!

Then it came time for the costume contest. I was hoping...

The lead singer started his spiel, 'Well there are a lot of sexy costumes, there are a lot of scary costumes....but there is only one person that made his own RANT ARMOR!' I walked up and they showed the symbol on my back to the crowd and they all started cheering for me. People where surfacing, saying 'Dude you rock.' and then the bartender walked up and presented me two fifty dollar bills. Eric from the band yelled out 'Sir Rantsalot.'

My neighbor across the street was there, a guy that used to watch wrestling with my brother was there. I became a person of chit chat, I got invited to a few after parties. I went to one and had a good time hanging out with a few of the band members and their friends and a few of my friends.

Who knew you could turn cardboard and duct tape into profit and a great time?

-NK

(W10) Diet

2008-10-29T11:30:00.000-07:00

Not ten minutes ago I found myself enjoying pizza and soda from the Student Association. I took the two slices that I had selected and walked to the table I was sharing with my friend.

'There is pizza out there? Hmm.. I don't know, ah what the heck. I can't turn down free pizza.'

A member of the Student Association looked up and said, 'its not free, the student association payed for it.'

my friend turned and said 'I guess it is a perspective thing...'

To enjoy my free pizza, guilt free, I walked back out with my friend. There one of the students that works in the computer lab was pouring diet Pepsi into a cup 'Kinda ironic isn't it, eating pizza and drinking diet Pepsi.'

'Yeah I guess we all do that a lot.' After the conversation ended I was looking at all the sides of irony that where there. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

'Kinda ironic isn't it, eating pizza and drinking diet Pepsi.' He was saying that choosing the diet Pepsi over regular Pepsi was a healthier choice whereas the pizza was an unhealthy choice altogether. I saw the word diet as the most ironic part of the statement.

Soda companies use the word diet to mean: not containing sugar. The common American views the word to mean: a healthier choice. Sugar is unhealthy in high doses because it exerts organs trying to balance your body, a sugar supplement may very well be just as bad for you in high doses; there just has not been a scientific study on the effects of prolonged exposure to regular doses of a certain sugar supplement.

Kinda ironic isn't it.

(W9) The Snot Squad

2008-10-22T10:16:00.000-07:00

We had arrived an hour early for my bus back home; Jake, Tia and myself, the only members of the Snot Squad.

The Squads formation took place on my last day as a resident in Portland, I was walking with Tia to locate a brick that said 'WHAT', I wanted a picture of it before I left. On my search we ran into Jake. I gave up the search, when I found a spot where a brick once was and I convinced them both to go to get bubble tea. On the walk down I took a picture of Tia as she scrunched up her face. We sat down with our choices of bubble tea, each tasted like a different flower and the blue, pearl sized, 'bubbles' would hit the roof of your mouth as they came out of the straw. I went to take a picture of Jake and he scrunched his face. I looked back on the camera and sure enough it was the same scrunched up face Tia had made. I had my photo taken and we were hence forth the Snot Squad.

I had bought a SD card for this trip to Portland, it still had six hundred or so shots I could take. So, the second I got in I started taking pictures. We started laughing and joking about the Snot Squad and I decided that we needed a group photo. I turned to one of the people sitting on the bench and asked if he would take our picture. He got the camera ready and I said 'We are going to make weird faces, so don't worry we're supposed to look like that' We all scrunched up our faces, the man looked over the top of the camera to make sure the viewfinder was not playing a trick on him. It was all I could do not to laugh.

When it was time to form the line we sat down and started talking about random things we had done and friends that we had. When the topics started to run out, Tia said, 'have you ever played the pulse game?' We each took one of the others hands, the pulse was sent by squeezing the hand that had not just been squeezed. Tia squeezes Jake's hand, then he squeezes mine, then I squeeze Tia's. It continues until someone loses it, ours got to the point were it seemed that the pulse you had just sent was being received by your other hand.

The hour went by too quickly. After a man took a head count we traded hugs, they left the station and I got on the bus to go home.

(W7) My Father

2008-10-14T09:23:00.000-07:00

In this town, my father is well known. Anyone over thirty that has lived in this town for the least ten years knows my father. He spent the better part of sixty years in this town. When I run into people in the grocery store or on the side of the road, they turn to whoever they are with and say 'This is Everett's youngest.'

After graduating he worked for a local bar and sold brushes door to door. Then he worked for the post office for thirty-five years, twenty of which he was a postal carrier. He would always find time to talk about the day with anyone that said hi. He would hum songs and sing the choruses.

Whenever we go to the store at least three people would stop and say 'Hey Everett' He would talk to them for hours, ask them how there kids were, ask them if they still lived at such and such. I remember looking at him and going, 'Dad they said your name but you never said theirs.' To me he would admit that he had no idea what there name was, he knew where they lived because he delivered their mail, he knew they had kids because it was all they talked about.

My father is held in the memories of hundreds, as a good man that always had the time to talk.

-NK

(W8) Change in a Pocket

2008-10-14T08:39:00.001-07:00

The Muscular Dystrophy Association researches to find treatments to 35 diseases. They work toward proper diagnose and treatment of thousands of patients. Millions of dollars are raised each year to fund the programs and research of the Association. Donations gathered by a telethon on Labor Day, will get you a mug or a t-shirt. Donations every time you walk by a small collection can, allow you to remain anonymous.

I live one tenth of a mile away from a Mobil Gas Station. When my thirst cannot be quenched by the contents of the refrigerator I walk to the gas station. The selection is astounding and limiting all at the same time, I select the drink that looks most appealing at the time. I always pay in cash, my alloted mad money for the week. After my purchase I deposit, anywhere from one penny to three quarters, two dimes and four pennies, into the the small plastic can that reads: Help Fight Muscular Dystrophy.

Why should I keep all that change in my pocket?

-NK

(W5) Teddy Grams and Mountain Dew

2008-10-07T22:38:00.000-07:00

When I got back home after a year in Portland I owed a bank three hundred dollars in loans.

The story starts in the University Credit Union (UCU) loan department. A cubical with carpet wall dividers, with the frosted wavy glass at the top. The female banker sat behind a desk, one part for paperwork, the other part to the side for the computer. 'You do not have any credit we can not give you a loan without a co-signer.' I thought to myself Well there goes any hope of eating this summer.

I was not about to go back home, I enjoyed living on my own and being in the city. So I stayed, the payment plan was not all that bad, one fourth the summer fee each month. The problem lied in me wanting to pay it off in two so that I would have a bit in savings when school started up again. I payed in all but twenty dollars, the day I got my check. Two days later I was out of food and still had five days until my next paycheck. The first three days I spent eating the teddy grams from my mother care package, and drinking the 36 pack of mountain dew that I walked a mile with, after it was given to me at a LAN(Local Area Network) party. On the third day I woke up three times chugging a can of mountain dew, only to just pass out again.

I decided to use my UCU debit card to take out money, to buy a sandwich, I figured I would just have to pay a fee. The next few weeks found me with a good amount of money, and I went to the bank to make sure that I did not owe them any money, I did not. I continued to spend my money on CDs, energy drinks, and food.

As it turns out the UCU debit card comes with an over draft protection. When a card holder overdrafts the 'small' sum of one hundred dollars is transferred into their account. This protection covers up to three hundred dollars in loans.

To set myself straight money wise I decided it best to move back home.

Just to recap, in order to obtain a loan from the University Credit Union: You must prove that you have no idea what you are doing with your account. Don't bother trying to apply for a loan, just get a debit card with overdraft protection.

-NK

(W6) The Dooryard

2008-10-07T11:13:00.000-07:00

The Dooryard is a multifunction, donation based loft space. I Black sheet made up the back of the makeshift theater. I cart with a projector and laptop set between mismatched couches and chairs. Off to the far wall there was another black sheet, a rope and green thing hung from rafters, and a footlocker chest sat oddly on the floor.

The theme of the day was The Thunderdome; It was the Mad Max marathon. Cinnabon coffee flavored drinks were stacked by the door in twelve packs, next to the donation plate and the e-mail sign-up sheet. In between the films there were an intermissions, the first was just a time to run and get food and chat. I went to the restroom, in which there was a typewriter sitting on a coffee table. The ribbon held small verses from random authors, I added a piece on how I came to be sitting in this location typing on a typewriter.

After the film the footlocker made sense; It was for the Thunderdome Arm Wrestling Contest. The ropes never saw there full function, something to do with the complication in the production of foam weapons and the early morning shifts for the renters of the loft.

-NK

(W5) Training, a Valueble Tool.

2008-10-06T07:54:00.000-07:00

Back in November of 2005, I had been working in the department for three months; all of which was purely customer service and cleaning slicers. I remember looking at the person, that had only been there for a week, who was getting trained on breaking down the salad bar. Why was she alloted a different job when she had the same job title? I took it personally and the only reason I did not walk out was because I was brought up to never walk away. Through questioning on it, they told me that I was needed more on the counter, and that in January when business slowed down I would be trained on a few more things.

There were two ways to do things, by the book and the shortcut way. The shortcut way got the thing done, it just did not require as many steps and actions. Each member of management in the department had a different tolerance of the shortcuts, some would not allow you to do somethings; others, no shortcuts where allowed. The trick was to ask them how they wanted it done and watch when they lectured someone else on doing something wrong. The what not to do rules where more important then the actual rules.

March 2006, I watched one of the better associates get weeded out. He was unorthodox and pushed things to their limit all the time. It was more like he was operating a deli of the 70's; he did not believe in sanitizer, he would let meat pile on the slicer until he could not fit his hand in to catch meat. He got the job done without following the rules, but he did fit the changing face of the deli. People wanted there machines clean and sanitary. So, when new management arrived they placed him in the sink, he was to just wash dishes and clean the department at the end of the day; and if he did anything wrong he would have to hear about it for at least an hour the next day. He walked, he knew that they would just keep hassling him until he left.

In April of 2007, I started to work at the deli in the Portland store. I slowly got the knack for telling who was going to last a long time and who would only last a few weeks. Regular clerks and shift leaders were in constant flux. For the people that I got along well with I showed them the tricks to dealing with the deli; for those that were rude and seemed to lack the qualities needed for an effective service clerk, I let them run their course.

In the Portland store I trained and guided 14, three of which I thought would make it any given amount of time. Managers would read a list of objectives and point at the areas involved, when it came time to do something; someone who had done the job a hundred times over would tell you how to do somethings and what the outcome should be. A week after you were trained on something, if you could not do it efficiently they would tell you that you needed to do it faster. I worked my hardest to be the trainer, I knew that it did not matter how much potential person has if you do not teach them how to do the job.

In August of 2007 I returned to my first store and I watched as they started to follow new rules. All of the new rules had been in effect at the Portland store, so I knew that they were not new. Because I knew what the rules had been I talked about it with lower forms of management, by piecing what they said together I learned that somewhere there was a complete list of the rules and protocol, but we only had to make sure that we followed the ones that the store manager wanted us to follow.

Through my two plus years in the deli I learned the real training of a deli, is learning how to stay in the deli.
-Never take things personally
-Never do something you are not going to be able to do everyday
-Ask as many questions as possible
-Walk the line when it come to rules
-Be ready for change
-Learn how to meet their standards in your own way.

Standard deli training only teaches you to make the deli functional, it has nothing to do with keeping you there.

-NK

Re: (W5) Into the Woods

2008-09-29T21:05:00.000-07:00

This one game that I played, there were three of us. One of was a some thirty year old guy that knew the owner of the property, the other guy was my friend, Mario. Well we all entered into the woods, it was our second time playing on the field, and the hill was always a focal point.

Well I sent Mario off to the left, I told him to wait until they started to fire on us and move in, or to fire when they got real close and we would come to back him. The thirty year old, was always trigger happy. I even told him to calm down a bit, even though I knew that it would not matter.

I actually expected him to fire early, so much so I made sure I had a vantage point on people passing to move up to him. Sure enough, the second they entered the field he started to fire. Two of the other team moved in to get a shot on him, returning fire the whole time.

The two passed me, and I noticed that neither of them were the four meant to come in after us. I made the decision to wait to make sure I had a shot. I was too happy to here that my teammate was shoot out. The two of them content with their victory stood up, I fired out four shots. Both ducked for cover, one right into a clearing in the underbrush, he got three to the back. I moved from my brush to the other side of the rock I was near and fired at the other as he popped out to fire at my old location.

As I started to scan the hill to see if anyone had taken notice, I saw a white spot. There poking out from under a rock twenty yards away was a shoe. After a bout of deliberation I decided that I should fire at the shoe. Three shots, one splattering paint from off the rock and the other hitting the middle of his foot. When a voice and a body were added to the shoe I was surprised, relieved, confused and empowered.

As I turned to look, I heard shots and ducked. They were both in poor cover, sparse trees only like a foot around. Weaving in and out of my rock cover on the high ground I made quick work of them. At that point I was so full of adrenaline I just wanted to be shot to prove it was still possible. I fired my gun into the air and yelled as I walked down the hill. Nothing, and then sounds of a fire fight, I started to walk toward and I saw a clear shot one another person, I made sure it was not my remaining teammate and lined up my sights. I wanted to make the shot count so I start to close the gap.

The second before I was going to pull the trigger I heard the triple fire of his gun. I knew it meant he was out of air and I felt cheated of my sixth out in one game.

(W5) Into the woods.

2008-09-28T06:08:00.001-07:00

The three of us entered into the woods, once out of ear shot we started to make a plan.

‘Ok, I am going to take a position on the hill. You go left, and you go right.’ Started walking with the man in his early thirties. ‘Ok, the last few games I noticed that you fire early. Wait until the get really close, these guns are not as accurate as real guns. When you fire across the field you just give away your position.’

I knew that the man on the right would fire early and draw them to him, so I scanned the right side of the hill. I found a small bunker made of underbrush and three spaced apart rocks, it concealed me while crouching and allowed a little movement on the top of the hill.

Then we heard the call for the start of the match. Less then a minute in the man on the right fire, two men on the other team took notice and started to advance on him. As they got close I noticed that neither of them was one of the three that were supposed to enter after us. Well it looks like everyone else showed up.

My shot at them was blocked and I did not want to give up my position early. Both of them started to fire at my partner. When he yelled ‘I’M OUT,’ the two of them stood up and I had a shot at them. I fired off four rounds and they ducked down. One ducked right into an open patch of the underbrush, his back arched forward as three paintballs broke against his sweat shirt. The other noticed my position and started to return fire while backing up to get a clear shot. As he hide behind a tree, I moved to the other side of one of my rocks, and as he leaned out from his cover I laid one into his chest.

I ducked down and started to scan the front of the hill, as I started to look back a white blur caught my eye. Is that a shoe, it is a shoe. Its not moving was it already out here, well I might as well shoot at it. I fired three shots. As the owner of the shoe yelled in pain, I thought if he had shot at me I would have been out for sure, he had a clear shot on my whole back.

While mulling over why he just sat there, two advancing men started to open fire. I moved in and out of the three rocks trying to fire from a different spot as much as I could. I got both of them, how many are out here. I could here a distant firefight. Well at least he probably waited till he had a clear shot.

To test my new found invincibility I stood up and started to walk down the hill with my pro carbine raised above my head firing rounds into the sky, no one fired at me. I got a sight on another guy and as I lined up my gun to fire, I heard a quick triple shot and an ‘I’m out, I’m out.’ His gun had run out of CO2 .

‘You sent out seven to get us?’
‘Yeah, everyone showed up and they were ready to go.’

We all stood around the two picnic tables covered with supplies, lively stories were thrown back and forth. After hear the people I shot tell

Journal Entry #11: Uh, mmmh, Oh!

2008-09-27T05:46:00.000-07:00

Two days ago while I was enthralled in my normal laptop session, a girl that I used to hangout with in high school came on. Currently she is in a relationship with some guy. Well, I was a little inebriated, so I was open with my thoughts.

Me: Well had you not been dating someone I would have asked you out on a date.
Her: And we probably would have gone a couple of dates, I do not know how serous it would have gotten because of our busy schedules.
Me: Well I guess I should have asked you out freshmen year.
Her: Seriously, I wanted you to ask me out freshmen year, but you never did.

Well lesson learned, I am a dumb ass. But since I read that I have felt different, I missed an opportunity because I failed to act, not because it did not exist. My whole mindset one certain things was just way off base.

Yesterday at work I was not compelled to discuss everything, I did not take anything personally. I did not feel anxious, I did not feel overwhelmed.

Just one more thing that proves the power of words. Those fourteen words placed the way they are made me feel human and alive. Those fourteen words have changed how I interact with people almost all together. Those fourteen words bathed me with warmth and light.

Here's to the next journey that comes my way,

-NK

Re: (W5) K and I

2008-09-25T10:30:00.000-07:00

It was the summer of 2005, I was 17. Two days after I got back from a leadership conference in Boston, Julia, one of my brother’s friends, came up to me and said. ‘I saw Katie and she wanted to say hi.’ I was a little confused as to what she meant so I said ‘Oh Hi’ and continued on.

A week later my brother was took Julia to ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’ for her birthday and invited me alone. Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s new Ford Focus ZX3, I brought up what Julia had said. She told me that Katie had come over to visit, and there was a photo of me at one of my brothers parties. ‘You know him?’, ‘Yeah he is Marc’s brother.’

In February of 2003, a friend of mine was in the local Gilbert and Sullivan Society. After the last performance I helped to tear down the set, something about a cast party intrigued me. The people that I had seen performing, were trading inside jokes all around me. It was like ordering soda in Presque Isle, Maine if you were born and breed in Atlanta, Georgia; they were using a completely different form of the English Language. Well, Katie and Julia were both performers in said play. I had met and rather enjoyed the company of Katie.

I asked Julia if I could have Katie’s number. She texted Katie, then she read the response out loud ‘Does he really want my number or is he just being a smartass?’ I wanted to respond so Julia dialed the phone, as it rang my heart crawled its way up my throat.

When she answered I said ‘You know I don’t think anyone has called me smart before.’
‘Well I called you a Smartass’
‘I can over look the last part.’

The conversation took three minutes and Julia wanted her phone back and I got the right to call Katie back. For the next week we spent at least three hours a night on the phone. On the third day I asked her to be my girlfriend, ‘Maybe, I have to meet you first. You might be a bad kisser.’

She cam over the day before I started to run practices for cross country. We kissed, she decided that I was workable and we started dating. A few days after she came over my throat got really sore. There was enough mucus that, when I squeezed it, I could feel it pour out of my glands into my throat. ‘You might have mono, I had it last year.’

The April prior I had dislocated my shoulder, so I could not longer work as a laborer. In order to have money to take a bus to see her, I needed a steady job. I started work as a Deli Sale Associate.

The first time I went to see her my sister covered for me, she took me with her when she went to go visit one of our aunts. The day that I arrived in Portland, was the day that Katie’s cell phone bill arrived in Portland. One way or another she was over a thousand dollars off what she thought her plan allowed. I was excited to be there, she was mad at herself.

It did not take long for me to enjoy having her on the other side of the bed. There was only one time that I fought for space of the bed. She got up in the middle of the night, and the sleeping me sprawled out and was not willing to give the space back.

The long distance was a little hard, but suited me fine. I had a part time job, ran cross country, a puppy and had a full course load for my senior year. For my birthday my mother got me a phone for my room, the plan allowed for any calls in the state.

I started to get real tired very night, my legs would burn and tingle. Katie thought that she must having given me mono, so I went to my doctor to see if I had it. Te doctor looked at my throat and poked my splean, ‘You do not need to be tested for mono, the test is very expensive and it is unlikely that you have mono.’ The doctor said that I was just too busy and not sleeping enough, I agreed my plate was full. With a clean bill of health I continued to run cross country and school and work and walk the dog and take into the early morning with my girlfriend.

The cross country season ended in late October and I slept when I would have been running.

In December my girlfriend lived the winter vacation at my house, the day after Christmas she headed out to New York City with her friend to go see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. She came back to surprise me on New Years Eve.

I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I felt physically exhausted all the time. I took her to a Gilbert and Sullivan play, and at the cast dinner my doctor announced his retirement.

For a few weeks I was in a funk, I was depressed and tired. I decided to find a new primary care provider, my transcript of the last appointment to my old doctor did not make it to the new one. When I mentioned that I thought I had mono, the doctor also thought that it was unlikely that I had mono. My symptoms and family history pointed toward the early stages of a bipolar disorder. I was placed on a low dose of a bipolar med.

I got more tired, I would sleep through my classes and during any free time. My phone conversations got shorter, but we still talked everyday.

In March Katie sprained her ankle, she tore every tendon in her ankle. I started to fear the end of the relationship and it soon came. I got to Portland in mid April and she told me that she wanted a break and we were not a couple. I was pissed that I wasted forty dollars, to ride a bus for three hours, only to get dumped.

A month after the end of the relationship, I was sleeping all the time; anytime I did not have to be at work and during most of my classes. I went to the doctors and had the test for mono, it turned out that I had contracted mono from Katie.

-NFC

(W5) K and I

2008-09-24T10:50:00.000-07:00

It was the summer of 2005, I was 17. Two days after I got back from a leadership conference in Boston, Julia, one of my brother’s friends, came up to me and said. ‘I saw Katie and she wanted to say hi.’ I was a little confused as to what she meant so I said ‘Oh Hi’ and continued on.

A week later my brother was took Julia to ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’ for her birthday and invited me alone. Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s new Ford Focus ZX3, I brought up what Julia had said. She told me that Katie had come over to visit, and there was a photo of me at one of my brothers parties. ‘You know him?’, ‘Yeah he is Marc’s brother.’

In February of 2003, a friend of mine was in the local Gilbert and Sullivan Society. After the last performance I helped to tear down the set, something about a cast party intrigued me. The people that I had seen performing, were trading inside jokes all around me. It was like ordering soda in Presque Isle, Maine if you were born and breed in Atlanta, Georgia; they were using a completely different form of the English Language. Well, Katie and Julia were both performers in said play. I had met and rather enjoyed the company of Katie.

I asked Julia if I could have Katie’s number. She texted Katie, then she read the response out loud ‘Does he really want my number or is he just being a smartass?’ I wanted to respond so Julia dialed the phone, as it rang my heart crawled its way up my throat.

When she answered I said ‘You know I don’t think anyone has called me smart before.’
‘Well I called you a Smartass’
‘I can over look the last part.’

The conversation took three minutes and Julia wanted her phone back and I got the right to call Katie back. For the next week we spent at least three hours a night on the phone. After that she came to visit and we were officially a couple.

She lived in Portland, so there was a three hour bus ride in between us. The first time I went to see her my sister covered for me, she took me with her when she went to go visit one of our aunts. The day that I arrived in Portland, was the day that Katie’s cell phone bill arrived in Portland. One way or another she was over a thousand dollars off what she thought her plan allowed. I was excited to be there, she was mad at herself.

It did not take long for me to enjoy having her on the other side of the bed. There was only one time that I fought for space of the bed. She got up in the middle of the night, and the sleeping me sprawled out and was not willing to give the space back.

The long distance was a little hard, but suited me fine. I had a part time job, ran cross country, a puppy and had a full course load for my senior year. For my birthday my mother got me a phone for my room, the plan allowed for any calls in the state.

I started to get real tired very night, my legs would burn and tingle. I went to my doctor to see if I had mono, the doctor said it was very unlikely, and that I just was doing a lot. I agreed my plate was full and I continued to run cross country and school and work and walk the dog and take into the early morning with my girlfriend.

The cross country season ended in late October and I slept when I would have been running.

In December my girlfriend lived the winter vacation at my house, the day after Christmas she headed out to New York City with her friend to go see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. She came back to surprise me on New Years Eve.

I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I felt physically exhausted all the time. I took her to a Gilbert and Sullivan play, and at the cast dinner my doctor announced his retirement.

For a few weeks I was in a funk, I was depressed and tired. I decided to find a new primary care provider, my transcript of the last appointment to my old doctor did not make it to the new one. When I mentioned that I thought I had mono, the doctor also thought that it was unlikely that I had mono. My symptoms and family history pointed toward the early stages of a bipolar disorder. I was placed on a low dose of a bipolar med.

I got more tired, I would sleep through my classes and during any free time. My phone conversations got shorter, but we still talked everyday.

In March Katie sprained her ankle, she tore every tendon in her ankle. I started to fear the end of the relationship and it soon came. I got to Portland in mid April and she told me that she wanted a break and we were not a couple. I was pissed that I wasted forty dollars, to ride a bus for three hours, only to get dumped.

A month after the end of the relationship, I was sleeping all the time; anytime I did not have to be at work and during most of my classes. I went to the doctors and had the test for mono, it turned out that I did have mono for all of my cross country season.

-NFC

(PP) Am I Philosopher?

2008-09-20T10:19:00.000-07:00

My favorite teacher in High School told me that I was a Socratic Learner. It was at first a common place compliment to me. I was a definable different, there were others like me just not everywhere. In my Honors 101: Wisdom stories form Antiquity, we studied the works of Socrates and I agreed I was very similar in my quest for knowledge and I learned more by a response to a hypothetical situation then lines from a textbook. I recently started to read the book, 'Philosophy: 100 Essential Thinkers.'

I do not really think that I am revolutionary, but I think I have a different way of looking at things. I would be lying if I said I did not think that other people could learn and grow from what I have to say.

One thing that I like to bring up from time to time is Visual Color and the Interpretation of it. Colors are taken in as set wavelengths, green is always green. Then when you take in the wavelength you use cones and rods to send a message to your occipital lobe, this makes a set path way in your mind, every time you see that wavelength you see green. Well if you are born with slightly different cones and rods then someone else, the wavelength is seen differently, but is still always seen the same, still called green. Everyone could be looking at the same wavelength and interpret it differently. If it is a different interpretation then it could be how someone else interprets a different wavelength for a different color. If my favorite color is green and yours is blue, an argument based on which is better might actually be both of use saying that the same interpretation as the better of all others. We may be agreeing on all accounts but we are still arguing.

Arguments are based on what we know to be fact and what we favor based on who we are. So to hate someone based on their Argument, is the same as hating yourself.

I believe in God, it is just what I have been brought up to believe. I believe in Jesus and I believe he sacrificed himself for his sins, again how I was raised. I believe that God is the final judge after this world, so who am I to say weather or not a person will go to heaven or hell for one thing or another, that would be placing myself before God. So, I believe everyone will be judged by God and he will decide. The Islamic Jehadist that blew himself up for his religion may go to heaven, I know it to be a sin to kill myself and others, but the Jehadist was not taught that, the Jehadist was taught to kill himself for God. (I do think that someone there may be held responsible.)

To treat a Muslim as any less then a person of God is against my Christan Beliefs. If any man, woman or child asks me of my beliefs or tries to tell me of theirs, I share mine. Sure mine flux from time to time, but they only change based on what I know to be true and I will respect any persons beliefs and I will state if I think they may be misled.

-NK

(PP) Learning to Study

2008-09-18T21:01:00.000-07:00

As I high school student, I found myself learning how to take the path of least resistance. My study habits consisted of reading some notes and mumbling lists while in the shower, on the day before the test.

Now I am faced with trying to start from scratch, only now I am at a college level and need to achieve better then my high school best. Teachers seem to have the same response, two hours for every class hour and note cards for terms that you need to memorize.

The only time I used flash cards effectively was in the seventh grade, my mind simply does not do well with bulk memorization. Ever since, when I resort to flash cards I mix terms more. A front of one card and the back of another are to easy to mix. I need to methodically learn one piece of information then the next.

As far as two hours of every hour, I am hard pressed to sit with the same material that long. I am working towards trying to push myself to a set schedule, but fluxing work hours and a social life make it hard to set a schedule. If I study too much I am too stressed to work, if I cannot go to work, I can not afford to pay for books, if I do not buy my books, I cannot do the work, if the work does not get done, I fail the course. The same applies to not relaxing with friends. Priorities and balance shift rather quickly.

A practice that I picked up at USM was useful for me. I had a history course, the reading got dry at times, to keep myself on the subject, I bought a book on the same time period. The book gave me another way to look at the material and it kept me on topic. If I took the time that I spent on reading a book that was relaxing and added it to regular study, I met the two hours to every hour plan.

I am slowing figuring my way around making the lists work. I have found that if I find a way to apply the information to another part of the material, I am more likely to retain both pieces of information.

So long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, always looking for new solutions and assessing old choices, I should make it through with the grades I need.

-NK

(W4) Simon Part Three

2008-09-17T10:20:00.000-07:00

Many people have stopped to play a pool at the old pool table in my dorm. The felt was marked with inexperienced players attempt to show off to on lookers. The pool sticks where quickly used up, pieces would disappear and reappear, half the game was finding a pool stick that was complete.

Simon, an African American man in his thirties, had found a way to circumvent the unreliable equipment. He brought his own pool stick with him every time he wanted to play. This made him a very valued person to shoot pool with. He traded flavored jokes with a variety of people that played pool with him. I was one of the more frequent players at the table, I was there twice a week at about the same time. After a few games he decided I was worthy enough to learn how to play one pocket. I could tell he thought highly of me because he would answer my questions on the rules, no matter how many times I asked the same question.

Every now and then I would spot him in the dinning hall and sit down with him. He was accustomed to praying at each meal, you could tell when he had a lot on his mind because he would drop his fork after a few bites, sit in silence and then say 'ok' and start eating again.

One day I wanted to play one pocket, so I went to see what Simon was doing. His window was visible from the sky walk to his section of the building, I always knew weather or not he was in. I knocked at the door and heard him shuffling around.

'Oh, hey Nick.'
'Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to play some one pocket?'
'That would be fun, but I can't I have to get packed.'
'Where you going?'
'Oh, I am heading home for a day to take care of some stuff at home.'
'Well, maybe we can play when you get back?'
'Oh, I don't know I have to study for a few midterms and I am trying to set up a date with this girl I have been talking to. Hey, you could come with me, it is a forty minute drive and I could us the company.'
'Sure, should I bring movies or something? I just got the DaVinici Code.'
'Yeah if you want, I have been meaning to watch that, is it any good?'
'I enjoyed it. Well I will go get ready.'

The drive was fun, we listened to a few of my cd's. He talked on the phone to the women he was trying to set up a date with. When we got on the road his house was on, he said 'Do not bring up the fact that I smoke and do not talk about the women I am trying to see. Mary does not want me to date because I she wants my mind on school and both her and Denis think that I have stopped smoking. I only have a cigarette every now and then and I never buy a full pack.

Denis and Mary, were a white couple in their fifties. Both of them seemed pretty well off, the house was relatively clean. There were a few unique collectibles that had their own spot on shelves. The couch and love seat were worn to the point where they were just right. The point where the fabric loses its structure but does not have holes in it.

Every question phrased by Mary was one that directly attacked and supported Simon. My favorite was 'Well try not to get too stressed, the last thing you need is to pick up smoking again.' It was said in the tone that only mothers can give; the I love you and I know you are doing something I disapprove of tone.

There were two small black dogs, one I found out was blind. The little blind dog seemed to have a much deeper appreciation for attention. Something about how the dog leaned into my hand made me think that it meant more.

After Mary and Denis went to bed, Simon and I discussed what I thought of them and the house. I thought they were very nice and I thought they keep a good house. A bit into the conversation Simon looked at me and said 'You know people have asked her if she was sleeping with me.' His tone hit me hard and I knew why. He viewed Denis and Mary as parents, for someone to second guess their intentions was cruel. He knew, and I knew, that if he was a white man no one would find it worthy to question.

The breakfast in the upstairs kitchen confirmed that Simon saw them as parents. We all sat down to a small meal, we prayed before we ate and they discussed small family things; like where Denis was going to store the law mower for the winter.

I saw them as a functional nuclear family. Mother, father and son working together to keep the family going.

-NK

(W4) Simon Part Two

2008-09-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

The dorm had an common pool table; I use to beckon to the call of the battered felt, anytime I needed to get out of my room. Through my frequent visits to the table, I made friends with another pool player, named Simon.

Simon was an African American man in his early thirties. While he played pool he had a explicit vocabulary. When he sat to eat, he would stop and pray.

On day the pool table was calling me, I had a few days off and I wanted to relax. I walked to the other side of the building and knocked on the door.

'Oh hey, Nick. What's up.'
'Not much, I was wondering if you wanted to go play pool.'
'Um, I do but I can't. You wanna come in.'
'Sure.'
'Yeah, I have to get ready to go, I am driving home for the day.'
'Sounds like fun, when are you getting back?'
'Tomorrow, do you have any plans?'
'No, I was going to play pool with you and then maybe get some food.'
'You wanna come?'

After a few minutes of thinking it out I decided that I could go.

It was a forty minute drive. As we got close to the house he said, 'Don't bring up that I smoke, they think I quit. And I only have one now and then. I never even buy a full pack.'
'What if they bring it up?'
'They shouldn't, just don't bring it up.'
'Ok, got it.'

Mary and Denis were a white, couple in their fifties. They were kind and supportive; Mary was very motherly toward Simon. She asked him how his classes were going, asked him if he was seeing anyone, told him to not let the stress get to him. 'The last thing you need is to start smoking again.'

There two little black dogs came down and I took time to pet them. later in the day, as we were watching the DaVinci Code, I saw one of the dogs walk into the couch. When I asked about it, they said that the dog was blind. The next time the dog came over to me I saw it, the dogs eye lids were sewn shut. The dog was no different from it's sibling, it just walked into things every now and then.

After Mary and Denis had go to bed, Simon asked me what I thought of them. After I said I thought they were very nice. After discussing for a bit he said with a solemn tone 'You know people ask me if Mary and I are involved.' I had not really even thought much of how he came to be in this house. I knew that he had traveled from another state and lived here. I saw this family like any other, in some places they where a stronger family.

In the morning we went up stairs to the kitchen, the oddest part about the upstairs kitchen was that there was a downstairs kitchen. The upstairs kitchen was Denis' Kitchen, it was were breakfast was made. We sat at the table, held hands and prayed for the meal.

After breakfast Simon showed me the shack that he had built on the top of the mountain we were on. It was framed in various types of wood, the floor wisted as the wind passed through it. The door was tided shut on either side with a piece of rope. The walls were different pieces of metal, plastic or the occasional ply board.

The view was hillsides with trees and places where the granite cut the surface. It would be a great place to just sit and listen to the wind rush by. I now knew way Simon spoke of home the way that he did and I was glad to have been invited to it.

-NK

Journal Entry #10: When the Saints

2008-09-16T09:20:00.000-07:00

As I walked in to school this morning, I looked at the statue on a lawn. I recognized it as a statue of Saint Joseph holding the baby Jesus. One thought lead to another and started to think of what name I would choose for myself if I was elected Pope.

Upon recognizing my choice of Saints I realized that I would be hard pressed to be pope; a person who supports travel, animals and children may be hard pressed to find themselves as head of the Roman Catholic Church.

The thought continued to brew in my mind. As I was walking and thinking of being named after Saint Francis of Assisi, I heard a woof and the pant of an approaching dog. I looked and a Saint Barnard pup was running across the road toward me.

The rather large puppy had floppy ears and a bandanna; he had assuredly gotten free from his owner. I whistled and the dog started to jump circles around me. The owner caught up and said he was sorry and that the it was a puppy. I stayed and waited until the owner could stop the dog, I enjoyed watching the pup's excitement to be unleashed.

While crossing the road I marveled at how interesting it was that the dog ran across the street as I was thinking about the Patron Saint of Animals.

As I was walking by the playground, I started to think of the name of the patron saint of children and at that moment on of the kids on a bench yelled out 'Nick!' I looked and it was the girl that I babysat for twice; she was a playmate of the boys I agreed to watch for a couple from Pennsylvania.

While seaching for the names online I realized that all three of my Saint choices were confirmed: Saint Francis of Assisi when the dog ran across the road, Saint Nicholas when the girl called to me and Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travel, was their throughout the entire walk.

So, Pope Nicholas Francis Christopher.

-NK

(W4) Simon Part One.

2008-09-15T09:03:00.000-07:00

The Dorm that I went to had pool table and in my free time I enjoyed playing a game or two of pool. One of the friends I made at the pool table was Simon, an African American in his thirties. He had a crude sense of humor but otherwise very down to Earth. Before every meal he would sit in silence and pray. One day he asked if I had any plans for the rest of weekend, I was free. He said he was going to visit family members forty minutes out and wanted company for the ride.

I agreed to go, he was always talking but the couple that he wanted to go see. His family members were a white man and women in their late fifties and from what I saw they were a very solid family. The house was nice, it had two kitchens and small collectibles. The living room had a long couch and a love seat, a long bench along one wall that had two computers, a coffee table and a t.v. The couple had two small black dogs with saggy ears, one had no eyes do to a surgery.

We watched the Da Vinci code, in the morning we had a hot meal, we held hands and prayed, Simon showed me a shack that he put on top of the hill in their back yard. Framed and floored with wood and sided with a mix of wood, plastic and metal panels.

(W3) Back to School

2008-09-10T10:02:00.000-07:00

Water poured from my hair as I entered the double doors. A boy and a girl were running in circles around the glassed in Eagle statue. Entered the office and waited for them to address me.
'May I help you,'
'I have a class in 45 minutes, can I just wait here.'
'Yeah, you can go sit out on one of the benches.'

I walked by the offices windows that overlook the main hall, on my way to the bench by the door. I saw my old guidance councilor in the main room of her office.
'Hey.'
'Oh, hi Nick,'
'I have a class here at four.'
'Oh yeah, which one is that.'
'Anatomy and Physiology in 220.'
'How many classes are you taking this semester?'
'Four.'
'Oh, that's good'
'Yeah, I am going to go wait for class, see you later.'
'Bye.'

As I was reading my book, the two children ran to the bench across from mine. The young girl yelled. "I'm on base, I am on base.' The boy just started to run in the other direction. The ran off after him.

'The picture person told me to lean forward.'
'Did you have the man or the women?'
'The Women'
'THE WOMEN.' and a few others echoed 'the WOMEN.'
'Yeah she had me lean forward on my leg and then she was like 'tilt your head to the side' and I was trying to tilt without...'
The intercom's beep pierced through the conversation. The muffled voice talked to fast to understand.

My Professor waved, as she went by. I looked up 'Nick, right?'
'Yeah'

Then I saw my old math teacher.
Called out his name.
'Oh hey Nick, what are you doing here?'
'I have class at four,'
'Oh, yeah whats that through?'
'EMCC'
'Good, good. Did you get that scholarship?'
'Yeah, I only had to pay six hundred for books.'
'Wow that's great, you still working.'
'Yep, in the deli'
'Good, so you have the money.Where are you staying?'
'My mothers house.'
'Even Better.'

I started to open my book and one of the ed techs said,
'Well hey there stranger, what brings you here?'
'College, I have a class at four.'
'That's good for you. What College?, You were at Southern Maine'
'Yeah, she can tell you, she taught me at EMCC last year.'
'Oh, you teach there?'
'Yeah one class a semester. How are you doing Nick?'
'Well I have to run,' the ed tech left'
'I got that piece you e-mailed me, I enjoyed it.'
'Oh good you got it, I am just trying to think what it was.'
'Yeah, I don't really remember but I enjoyed. I just have been so busy.'
'Yeah it's fine. I actually have an online course. It is all done in a blog. I am not sure how it works with blogspot but I think this is the right url. You should be able to look at it. It is held by Jon Goldfine. Do you know him?'
'Yeah I know him.'
'Well if you look that up and click on one of the comments of his you can look at the 162 course. I did was not logged in the first time I looked at it.'
'Well I am going to go to class, I saw the teacher walk by earlier.'
'Yeah, I'll look into this. I see you later.'
'Yeah.'

Thought to myself as I climbed the stairs, 'It feels odd being back in my old high school. Things are much more formal.'

-NK

(W2) History and Me

2008-09-09T10:14:00.000-07:00

In 1999, Columbine took every news station. It took over discussion times in class, it took over family talks. I started to pay more attention to people in the halls, I started talking to anyone that claimed they were angry with the world.

December 2000, my nephew died of cancer. I learned that life can reach out to others, he was three years old and the church was packed for his funeral.

September 11, 2001 was on every channel. Everyone went on and on about how terrible it was. I started to worry about the state of the world.

December 2001, my sister died of a blood clot. I saw that people can make a difference to one person in seven months. My sister had taught one year a school, walking out of the funeral I saw a boy from her class fall to his knees and retch in tears.

October 31, 2003 while at a school rally a kid in the stands lit up on fire. He was in a ghillie-suit, and another boy thought he look like pot and flicked his lighter. Soon after my best friend was moved to a private school, I was left to walk the halls alone.

Throughout 2003 and 2004 bomb threats and evacuations cut into the learning curriculum.

Re: (W3) A few minutes in a Deli

2008-09-07T18:16:00.000-07:00

The punch clock beeps, letting me know that my break if officially over. I walk myself down the hallway to the deli. I tuck my hair under neath my hat and try to stop the apron strap from sitting on top of my collar. Picking up and lowering my foot I open the swinging door into the back of the department. I wash my hands with warm water, lather soap to my mid forearm, I take a peek at the counter to see the customers looking back at me, hot water washes away the soap and I dry my hands with paper towel. I can feel the impatient eyes on me as I reach for my gloves. The words flow out without thought.

'May I help who was next?' There is a pause and no one answers, 'Anyone not being waited on?'
a women speaks up after looking around. 'I guess that's me.'
'Is there anything I can get for you?'
'Yes, I would like some turkey.'
'Which would you like? We have fourteen types.'
'fourteen, I remember when there was just one type. Um, I don't know a plain turkey.'
'We have four plain turkeys, the Carolina, the Sara lee, the Thin and Trim and the Inspirations.'
'The cheapest one is fine.'
I turn locate the Carolina, put it on the slicer and slice a piece.
'How is that for a slice,'
'Thinner'
'How's this,'
'great'
'And how much would you like?'
'Half a pound'
...
'Anything else that I can get for you?'
'Swiss Cheese'
'Which would you like, we have six types.'
'The regular swiss cheese.'
'The domestic?'
'Yes a quarter pound.'
'How's this for the slice?'
'Fine'
'A little over?'
'Yeah, that's fine.'
Anything else I can get for you?'
'No thank you.'
'Thank you'

-NK

Journal Entry #9: Tears of Joy

2008-09-06T23:57:00.001-07:00

Today my family gathered for my brother's wedding. Between my brother's friends and family and his now wife's friends and family there were over forty people to witness the wedding. The ceremony itself was beautiful, from the line 'If anyone has anything to say about the join of these two can shut up and deal with it' to the kiss the ceremony was less then ten minutes.

The one thing that hits home for me where two tears. The first I saw on my brothers cheek when his bride said her vows. The second tear was just as wondrous, it was welled up on the bottom of my father's bifocals. I have seen tears from both of them before, but this was the first time I had seen a tear because they were happy. Words cannot come close to capturing how I feel having seen tears of joy from the two men in my family.

-NK

(W3) A few minutes in a Deli

2008-09-06T23:25:00.000-07:00

For those that have been to a deli in the last year, you can skip the rest of this paragraph (though you would miss out). Supermarkets house a good selection of food, the deli holds a few more choices then people normally realize. My deli is run on the honor system where people wait until the people before them were served at the counter.

To show you two conversations that tend to happen frequently (semi-w/the intent to open deli costumer relations to a new degree.) I will be playing the role of deli sale clerk and I will have a customer.

A middle aged man and myself:
I start the conversation 'May I help who was next?' No response given by the few people lined up. 'Anyone not being waited on?'
'I guess it's me.'
'Hello,'
'Hi, how are you today?'
'I am doing well and yourself?'
'Fine'
'Is there anything I can get for you?'
'What do you have for a turkey?'
'Well we have fourteen different types of turkey, was their anything that you were looking for in your turkey?'
'Just a plain one, do you have a turkey that is low in sodium?'
'Yep the golden home style,'

Next is a younger women and myself.
Because she was standing at the counter alone, I say 'Hi, how are you today?'
'Good, I need a pound of potato salad.'
'Which would you like,' as the women moves to see the choices 'we have the red royal, the baked, the creamy white, the German and a sweet potato salad.'
'Oh, hmm.'
'Are their any you would like to taste?'
'No,..., the baked looks good, I will have a pound of that.'

Re: (W2) Mental Histroy

2008-09-02T21:10:00.000-07:00

One day my mother and I were discussing what I was like in grade school, she retold a story that my second grade teacher had told her in a parent teacher conference: "Well Nicholas has a unique personality, one day I saw him lying in the grass. I went over to see if he was ok, he looked over at me and said 'Oh...yeah, I am just meditating.' I asked 'What do you mean?' 'Oh, I am just looking up at the trees and trying to not think, it's called meditating." If I close my eyes and think about those trees, I can see them reach up to the sky and bow in the wind. Weather or not I was reaching out to myself in the years to come, I made a lasting memory.

As the years went on, I developed I different way of learning and achieve grades. I think it was more the text's lack of movement, then an actual distaste for reading; but I learned how to write book reports and answer questions on tests without really taking the time to read the book. Early on I could just look at the pictures and make up the story as I went. Then the teachers would read the information out in class. Third grade I had to start to rely on the information of kids that had actually read the books, I would take two or three people's responses of the book, cut out what did not line up and give my opinion on what was going on in the story.

It was my fifth grade social studies teacher that led to the discovery of my lower then average reading level. Some whole quizzes were straight from the book and I had no one to rely on for information, it was too dry for people to want to talk about. My sister, C, learned that I was having a hard time reading and she started to work at it with me. Really all she had to do was explain why it was necessary for me to read and encourage me when I did. C was more then my big sister, she was like a surrogate mother. I always wanted to make myself worthy of the unconditional love she had for me.

In seventh grade, I reached my reading level. It was then my world changed, my mother and sister T where treated for Cancer, and my sister M's son died of cancer. The words 'I love you' and hugs were appropriate for any family member going somewhere. A year later that proved to be the only thing that held me together. Dec 5th my sister had closed the back door to the house, I yelled 'Hey!' the door opened, the puzzled and saddened look on her face changed melted as soon as I said 'you left without giving me my hug.' We hugged and smiled. The next day she died of a blood clot, that had collapsed her lung.

Less then a week later I was in school again, but I had no set standards to live up to anymore. The only thing I tried to do was maintain a B average to keep from being lectured. I had lost the flavor of life and I was just living in an empty shell. My old group of friends went their own ways, there was still the occasional get together but nothing day to day. For the longest time I had no will to make new friends and when I did again, I did not really know how.

With nothing to focus my attention I started to learn what I wanted to know about things. I would ask questions about anything that flowed through my mind. After a while I enjoyed the negative attention I received from my classmates. Though I would have traded it away to be able to sit down and talk about mundane things, without knowing what it was to lose a loved one. Part of me wanted to be loved unconditionally, the other part wanted to be as far away from others; not to save myself from pain but to shield them. What if someone fell in love with me and I died?

Time continued on and I received an envelope with a catalog of events held by Lead America. The letter sent with it stated that I had been chosen based on my academic merit and seemed to be a key to a new life. I worked for eight months as a laborer to go to the conference. I earned the money with my bare hands, raking blueberries and splitting wood. I went to the Law and Trail Advocacy Conference; I made friends with people all over the country and I found out that I may have been the only one to work to get there. I built up my courage by making the best of the conference I worked for, I built up my confidence because of the friends I made. I tore apart a statistician in a mock trail and found a piece of myself.

With the new found courage and confidence, I acquired a girlfriend. The day before I started to run cross country I contracted mono from my girlfriend. I started to feel sick and tired, so I went to my family doctor. I asked for a blood test to be taken to see if I had mono, the doctor explained that he thought that I did not have mono and that I should come back if things got worse and he would take my blood. His reasoning sounded logical, I did have a large plate, so I continued to run. When the season was over I got really sick, I needed to sleep all the time and I was depressed. I went to a new doctor, because my old one had closed his doors. My symptoms and prior family illness, was sufficient to start on bipolar medication. My girlfriend dumped me because I was depressed all the time, this led to a further depression and I got worse and almost passed out in class. So I scheduled another meeting with my doctor and asked to be tested for mono. As it turned out I had had mono the entirety of my Cross country.

I went to college and continued to take the medication. Part way through my second semester I got really sick, all I could do was sleep and I would sweat in 34 degree weather. I suffered from muscle pains that sent me to the emergency room, each time I was turned away stating it as muscle strain. I failed two of my classes and withdrew from another. I did not want to go home so I stayed for the summer.

I was 19 and in Portland during the summer. I started to smoke pot with one of my friends. I could think again and it felt good. The mix of pot and my medication tore my brain to pieces. Then my reformed drug addict friend sat me down and said 'look at yourself, you can't even hold a full sentence. You are a lot better then this' I thought about it, he was right. I stopped smoking pot and I stopped taking the medication. I found a huge dept, some family issues and I decided home would be the best place to clean out.

I worked for a semester and then got back into school, this time while living at home. I started to work on the things that were effecting me. Then in April I went to take care of my father, the doctors had decided that they needed another family member to take care of his medication. It turned out that his living conditions were bad. My step mother was not well and their case worker was over worked at best. I saw every emotion that he went through as my step mother yelled at him and accused him of adultery.

It got to the point that my father said that he wanted to leave, within three hours we were out the door. The next day I made sure that he saw his brother and sister, because I knew that he would be moving to my sister house in Pennsylvania. After we met with his siblings we sat down and he started to cry about everything. He cried about the death of his parents, he cried about his brothers and sister's aliments, he cried about his divorce, he cried about my nephew, he cried about my sister. It was as though it had all just happened and all I could do was offer a listening ear and accept his grief.

I never wanted to have to live a moment like that. I refused to just leave my emotions unchecked until I have a mental breakdown. I started to search for how to deal with the emotions. In my search I read two books 'Dance of Anger' and 'Life After Loss' and I wrote an essay 'Dealing with Emotions'. The process trudged me through all the emotions that I had not dealt with, I wrote out everything that bothered me and if I had to cry I just let the tears flow down my cheeks as I wrote.

If there was anything that I learned through all of this tragedy is that it is part of life. I know when to cry and I know when to smile. Now all I have to do is learn patience and social skills; I guess I always did like to go from last to first. Meditation before critical thinking, book reports before reading, dealing with grief before social skills.

-NK

(W2) Mental History

2008-09-02T10:35:00.000-07:00

One day I was sitting with my mother and she just started to laugh about something. She had run into my second grade teacher earlier that week and something reminded her of something my teacher said at the parent teacher conference. Retold by my mother : "Well Nicholas has a unique personality, one day I saw him lying in the grass. I went over to see if he was ok, he looked over at me and said 'Oh...yeah, I am just meditating.' I asked 'What do you mean?' 'Oh, I am just looking up at the trees and trying to not think, it's called meditating.'

I learned how to listen and retain information well, around the fourth or fifth grade they found that I had first grade reading level. I can remember being able to recall the story when it was read to me and for the stories that had to be read on my own, I just talked to my classmates about. If I could get people to tell me what they remembered of the story I could fill in the blanks. I quickly learned that I was getting better grades then the kids that read the books and it took me less time. For all my other classes the teacher would say everything that was going to be on the test, so reading from the book was pointless. The downfall to my abilities to do no work and pull the grades was my Social Studies class, most of the test were straight from the book and no one could explain what they had read, because it was not a story.

My Sister C got me reading and she recognized the talents that I had when it came to learning. She died half way through my eight grade year. I no longer cared about learning, what was the point? School was just the place I had to go everyday and to avoid being lectured about how much better I was then the grades I just made sure to get B's. B was easy to achieve without a lot of effort and it was enough to not be lectured on.

Because achieving academic merit was not the reason I was in high school I started to ask questions. Most questions were related enough and allowed me to learn the information, but socially they made people very mad. Those that placed there Academic Merits as a sign of stature loathed my Socratic questions.

The summer before my senior year I attended a Lead America conference on Law and Trail Advocacy. It taught me a lot about how to apply my abilities and how to be confidant in whatever I want to do. Not to soon after I had a girlfriend and was running Cross Country. The day before practice I contracted mono from my girlfriend. I ran the full season and destroyed my immune system. I started getting a lot of colds and the lack of endorphins from the running got me depressed. The depression and physical illness showed the signs of early bi-polarism. So I was started on 10ml of Abilify. My girlfriend dumped me and I was depressed and sick.

6 months after I started the Abilify I started to get really ill and I went to the emergency three of four times for what they decided was muscle strain. It was hard to use my ability to think out of the box and then make connection to what I was saying. People thought I was funny and odd. It got to the point where I just slept all the time, I physically needed it but it was written off as depression.

I was a reckless 19 year old in Portland, Maine. I started to smoke pot while still taking the Abilify. Early in I could think but not express the thoughts and it removed stress and made me fell good. One of my reformed drug addict friends sat me down and said 'look at you'. And I did, I stopped the Abilify and the pot. I found a huge dept, issues with the family and I needed to clean up. So I moved home and started to deal with my depression.

I found out that I had just not been listening to my emotions and I had been repressing how I had felt. I learned the tough lesson of allowing yourself to stop trying to progress and just give in. In April my father got really sick, my step mother was not taking care of him well and the case worker was overworked at best. I spent the last five days that my father and step mother lived together. I saw what he was going through because he had shut down years ago. I took my father to see his brother and sister before he went to live with my sister. I talked to him as tears poured about things that had happened years before.

I decided that I was not going to be a victim to my undealt with emotions anymore. I used a final project for my English class to write an essay about emotions. I read 'Dance of Anger' and 'Life After Loss' and they confirmed that I was someone suffering from undealt with emotions and gave me tools to deal with my emotions.

-NK

Journal Entry #8: The Corner Store

2008-09-02T10:15:00.000-07:00

About five minutes out of the door I decided that instant breakfast and a multivitamin just was not going to do. My stomach started to churn as I thought about a Ham Italian sandwich, I remembered the simple joy of siting at the pier and eating one with my father, the sandwich was calling me to embrace memories that had long since buried themselves under daily stress.

As I was standing in the line I got mad at all the people standing between me and my simple pleasure of the past. When the sandwich had done all it promised, I realized that the people in front of me where probably looking for that same feeling. They were all of the age that it would be most likely that their fathers would take them to the convenience store and sit down in some area he felt the most peaceful, just staring out into the sky; turning to laugh at them when they got a drip of oil on their shirt. Some may not even know why the sandwich makes them feel warm inside, as though they belonged and were loved.

-NK

(W2) My Physical History

2008-08-31T19:13:00.000-07:00

This particular history starts when I was in grade school. One day about a half hour before the bus was to roll by, I threw up. I was instructed to clean it off the floor and to finish getting ready for school. The lesson learned was you go to school unless you need to go to the emergency room.

Then the years pass and I gain a fairly decent immune system, miss maybe a day a year. Holidays and weekends were very good days to have a cold and sleep in. The next big event in the history of my body would be my first work experience. I was thirteen years old and I learned how to rake blueberries, a job that you could not miss a day of.

For each summer for three years after I learned how, I raked blueberries for three weeks straight. Only taking days off do to weather. I made the goal of raking an average of twenty buckets a day and I stuck to it for all three of the years.

The April before what would have been my fifth year of raking I dislocated my shoulder while swimming. Because this is somehow an impossible feat I had to set it back myself, I was at a school function mind you.

Now to the pinnacle of my physical health. I was eighteen years old, I ran cross country, I had a part time job, full course load in high school, a long distance girlfriend and a new puppy. When cross country ended, I got really sick. I was started on a bipolar medication. I few months later my girlfriend dumped me and I had a test done for mono. It turned out that I had mono throughout my whole cross country career. My 'never give up' attitude and my high pain threshold got me through every race of the season. My coach even awarded me a book for most dedicated runner of '05.

Soon after the loss of my girlfriend I pursued a bicycle dream of mine. I rode my bike twenty miles to a small tourist trap and back in the same day. All in all I have made the trip five times. The best was about 65 miles on the bike, a three mile mountain hike, a dip in the ocean and some Chinese food in 12 hours.

Winter and Spring of 2007 I had an adverse reaction to the medication I was on. As far as I can tell the 10mg tablets built up in my system until my body was unable to cool itself off, even in 34 degree weather I was sweating. For a month or so all I did was sleep. My roommate recalled one time when I was sleeping 16 hours out of the day and then I would be up for less then four and then out for another 16 hours.

Currently I am rebuilding my immune system and trying to get into a routine for exercise. The rest is yet to be written. From what I understand of the aging process, my body has a lot of back tax it owes.

-NK

Journal Entry #7: Me and my brother.

2008-08-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

My brother is six and a half years older then I am. Through the last few years he has become a sort of role model for me. My mother and father divorced when I was five. I grew up with my brother and three older sisters, the eldest T, then M , then C. Well about eight years ago M's three year old son died of cancer. Around that time my Mother and sister T were undergoing cancer treatment. When they were starting to recover and we started to pick up the pieces of the family, my father had a heart attack and went off his medication. Soon after my father started to stabilize, sister C died of a blood clot. C was the one that tried to make me the best person I could be, so I think it was around then that my brother took his stature of a role model.

So, yesterday when I attended my brother's bachelor party ('Slobberknocker '08!' was what he named it.) it was more then a ritual signify acceptance of his marriage. It was celebrating with my brother, for most people that is a common place thing. To me it is something that seemed like it would never happen. M's son died around Christmas and C made sure that it was still a special occasion, and she died 19 days before the next one. To just sit back and joke with my brother, it cuts back years of darkness and brings me to tears.

-NK

Journal Entry #6: The White within the Blue

2008-08-30T15:24:00.001-07:00

Today not too long into my shift at the deli a young women walked up. My job and my personality have lead me to almost always looking people in the eyes. I asked her if there was something that I could get and she started to say something and stopped, her eyes started to look around at everything. This gave me a minute or so to find the small circle of white in her eyes. Something about the way the blue hit the white reminded me of the sky.

After I handed her the turkey she had selected she apologized for being new to the area. The only response I could give was "well do come back." The red tape of work and my normal nervousness mesh to make wondrous comments, that can only be classified as the politically correct way to hit on someone.

-NK

Journal Entry #5: A Dying Past

2008-08-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

As I walked down the dimly lit street with my dog, we passed my brother-in-law at his friends house down the road. They were both sitting outside smoking, the light over the doorway made them clearly visible to me but they could not see me. The two of them seemed content with where they were, I did not listen to the words of the conversation just the tone. My neighbor seemed to have a dreamy happy tone, the two of them have been fixing up his house and it is starting to shape up nicely.

I knew why they could not see me, but it still made me feel less important. It got me thinking about all the changes in the town. From that point till now my small hometown feels like something that can only be recalled in memory. The feeling in the back of my neck is much like the one that brought me home from Portland. It is the call to move on.

August 2007 I moved back home, payed off piles of dept and got back into school. April 2008 I was asked to look after my father until my sister could get up from Pennsylvania. It turned out that it was unhealthy for my father to stay with my step mother. When I moved back from Portland the two biggest reasons were my father and my dog, who had put on about thirty pounds. My father lives with my sister in Pennsylvania and my dog is around a healthy weight.

My hometown no longer fits who I am. I am the man that can not be seen because of the light. If I get my degree before something holds me here, I will move where ever my heart takes me.

-NK

Journal Entry #4: A Cup too Much

2008-08-29T06:09:00.000-07:00

This morning as I woke up, the first thing that I noticed was that the room was not coming into focus nearly as fast as it normally does. Then the thought 'oh shit I sent a text didn't I' literally echoed around in my head. I withdrew my phone which was still in my pocket. There was a response to my text. Though it had a angry feel to it, I was happy to actually get a response. I replied apologizing that I sent them a text at 1:44am, at the time it felt necessary.

I got up and went into the bathroom, where I noticed dry blood on my hand. When I act against my nerves and do something anyway, I get nose bleeds. It took a little bit before I remembered and then I laughed at my self, because I had said 'Yeah, you know the greatest thing about this nose bleed, I am going to wake up then be all freaked out when I see the blood on my hand.

Last night my friend and I hung out for the last time before he goes off to college. It was the first time that he had seen me since my birthday... so, one way or another I drank about 300 ml of Wild Turkey Bourbon Whiskey. In my 'heightened' sense of being, I thought it would be a good idea to send a text to someone that had not responded to my last few text messages. About half way through the first word a drop of blood welled up on the end of my nose. I wanted to finish the message so I just put my hand under my nose. When I finished and sent the message I cleaned the bulk of the blood off my hand and told my friend that it was going to be interesting when I find the dry blood and bloody tissues the next morning.

-NK

Journal Entry #3: Two weeks early.

2008-08-28T12:10:00.000-07:00

In the summer of 2005 I started to live by one of the creeds of Lead American's Law and Trail Advocacy team. It goes as follows: "If you are early, you are on time. If you are on time, you are late. If you are late, you are unacceptable."

Today I left the house at one, for my class that starts at four on Thursdays. I stopped at the small town convenience store to order a sandwich and get a drink. When I got to the Education Center I walked up and asked what room my class would be in. The two women gave me an odd set of looks, then they reviewed a chart of classes and rooms. "Yes we do have it, but it also starts the week of the eighth."

So the fabric of my well planned day of reading and going to class was thrown out the window. Somewhere in my memorizing of my schedule I neglected to notice or memorize the date my class started. Needless to say I was too early, I had a good laugh over my misunderstanding of the class scheduling.

Now for a day of lounging around the house.

-NK

Re- Three Shades of Me: The Author Within.

2008-08-28T08:44:00.000-07:00

I love to write things that are believable. I like to take the mundane and make it extraordinary, which I normally can easily do, so long as I neglect to state how many times the action is done. I enjoy giving advice, in a way that people are more likely to listen to and gain from it. I have found that the best way to help someone to gain from advice is to remove all the things that make them think about themselves. I will take the message that I want to give and place it to the best of my ability on a universal scale. I analyze things around me for research. I tend to write in a way that shows my bias toward my distaste in hypocrisy and ignorance. I am ready to pour out words when ever a pen hits paper or when the key lay under my fingers. I prefer the pen and paper approach; I find the scribbling and adding of new thoughts aesthetically pleasing. I get mad at my limited spelling ability and my slow reading pace.

You can sit down anywhere and the words will flow from your pen until it runs dry. You will feverishly try to get a new pen to continue your thought where you left off. You have been know to press down hard on the page with an empty pen so that the idea does not get lost just because you were out of ink. You will say random things all the time. You seem thrilled to listen to others responses to questions like 'what would you do if you had 360 billion dollars.' You pour out all you have onto the page trying to free yourself of your burdens and help you and others build strong senses of self. You get loud when telling a story, you write as fast as you can and the words come out choppy because you skipped whole chunks. You hate going back to look at your work, but you love to develop your skills in writing. You love to hear that you thoughts and efforts went to a good cause. You prefer to write with spoken words, the fact that you can say the same basic message a different way and achieve the same goal with different people makes you want to talk things out more then write a general overview.

He sits at a bench and writes on his knee. He stands in line at the store and listens to the conversation in front of him. He loves to say what is sitting on his mind. He blurts out things to break the ice. He uses his words to help people see things that they do not normally look at. he says things that make him credible to the person and he then uses his credibility to tell the person who they are and how they can change. He takes everything and writes out in hope to stop the cycles he sees everyday. He loves the things his gift can do, but hates living the life that it demands. He writes realistic fiction to convey a message, he writes fiction to relax, he writes his thoughts to understand them, the writes his conclusions to set goals for himself and open the minds of his readers. He tries to be an influential character, he will help a friend at the cost of the friendship. He will relish in the advancement of the person and he will cry at the loss of a good friend. He will open up to let others know they are not the only ones. He takes the time to find the good in the bad. He tries to validate his actions with words, but sometimes never believes them. He understands the risks and continues, because he believes that if on person is help it is worth more then the sacrifice to make it happen.

-NK

Journal Entry #2: The Back Porch

2008-08-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

Today was blessed with the chance to read on the back porch. The sun (which between nine a.m. and two or three p.m requires a hat or good sunglasses, otherwise you end up trading squinted eyes.) warmed my skin and made a perfect level of contrast on the pages of my book. The wind was just strong enough to cool my skin but was not strong enough to turn my pages for me.

I decided to refrain from enjoying what in my opinion is the best from of television. The three frames made by the railings and mid beams of the porch offer an uncut, unscripted program that is object to change do to chance. When sitting in the chair on the porch you can see one of the three neighbor's houses and their yards boxed in by one of the frames. Today the front and right panels only held the houses and the trees that moved in the wind. The Left frame however housed a home improvement project. Two men where making the plain white house a rustic brown tiles house, while listening to early nineties soft rock and encouraging the two dogs to run back and forth staring down at my dog, which made him whine and run back and forth.

The CD I was listening to (All American Rejects' self titled album featuring the song Swing, Swing.) faded to the background. My thoughts and attention were torn between the book, my dog and trying to think how to rewrite my 'Three shades of me Post.'

I got a decent amount of pages read, my dog is a little more trained on sitting still even if he wants to run and bark at other dogs and I may have come up with a way to satisfy the writing assignment. All and all a good time sitting on the back porch.

-NK

Three Shades of Me.

2008-08-27T13:24:00.000-07:00

The analyzing my advice giving. (my opinion 1st, 2nd and 3rd)

When it comes to talking to other people I like to make and assessment of another person. With my assessment I try to work out my clarity of who they are. I look at there physical stature, there expressed emotions, I try to clarify what they are saying with there responses and I try to compare there responses with: the information I know on the subject, things I have seen before from this person, what I do in the situation, what I wish I had done, what I may do and what I think would be helpful for that person, based on trail and error with them and others before them. I try to let people know where I am coming from (things I have done things I have seen), I retell stories and events, I try to make up applicable hypothetical situations. I try to soften the harshness either by thinking it out or explaining it out.

You sit there, your mind is wrapped around thoughts. Sometimes you take minutes to respond, other times you instantly respond and it takes you many minutes to explain out what you blurted out. You like to allow people to make there own decisions, without leaving them feeling like you did not answer their questions. You fight with yourself to come up with the words that will make the most sense. You hope and pray that you have not somehow created a situation that you cannot handle, but you strive to feel like your experience is useful and will help them empower their lives.

He looks into his friends eyes. He then looks as though he has gone blank. Sometimes his first words sound illogical, but he finds a way to drawn out what he means, by explaining his reasoning. Sometimes he looks upset, other times he looks thrilled. His words are quick and disclaimers and reasoning outnumber the actual amount of the advice he gives.

-NK

The walk in.

2008-08-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

Soon after I left the house I felt warm inside, at first I thought it was a by product of enjoying my 21st birthday yesterday. It was not until I was in the parking lot of the school; that I realized that I was happy, not reacting to the fallout of a few drinks.

I went through the first portion of my online classes assignments. The second I found that I was going to be working with a blog for the class I was excited. I rely on feedback to grow personally and through no fault of anyones really the blog that I have been keeping this summer does not get that many hits and when it does no one really responds or they do and a few days later I log on and see they made a farewell blog or even worse I log on and there is no sign of any activity for weeks.

My cousin will tell you that I analyze everything and for the most part come up with reasonable assessments of personal character and on my favored occasion I will come up with something that I can use to fuel working on myself.

For those that have not figured out what, other then coming out of my first legal hang over, was the cause of my warm feeling; I enjoy learning, so I was a little excited to get back in the thick of it. Another week or so of work and classes will wear on me, but I am going to enjoy my excitement today.

This also may be the only time that the chosen name will come up. This blog is a class assignment, and I felt it fitting to allow any readers to know that it may one day be sweep to the side for other assignments (bigger and better things sounded to cliche, though I do hope it is the case.) So I apologize in advance if I just vanish from the recently posted log.

-NK