New Things.

You might be looking at my blog thinking "What is going on? A title change?! This is an outrage."
But you're probably not. You're probably just disregarding the title change and dissecting this post for something else.
If you have a curious mind and want to know the reasoning behind my title change, I suppose I can share.
My former title was stupid. And held no relevance to my life whatsoever.
The new one, however, is extraordinarily applicable.
When I attempt summarize my life, all I can say is that it has more question marks and exclamation points than I can count.

O, Porcupine.

I want to blog. I really do.
But I just keep forgetting to do so. It's purely accidental.
Or maybe I'm just too busy.

Life has the tendancy to be hectic.
And hectic is the perfect description for my life.
I like hectic. Not the bad hectic that makes people suicidal.
But the perfect amount of chaos and disorder to balance everything out.

That's the hectic I like.

Nothing really seems to be ritual anymore.

I don't mind the lack of order at all.
Change is definitely on it's way and I couldn't be more pleased.

In the midst of extensive change,

it's hard not be feel uneasy about everyting that's going to happen.
But it'll be alright. It always is.
Regardless of how unfortunate things may become.

It's kind of humorous.
While all of this is happening. I've been able to

take time to enjoy everything God has done for me

and appreciate this amazing place He gave us.

I feel as if that statement needed to be italicized.
So I did it.

Summer is nigh. Be excited, pariah of blog followers.

My bathtub, my rules.

You know, those really big ones that could seriously alter the course of your life?

Not changing who you are, but changing where you be who you are.

I don't feel like I'm qualified to make some decisions. Like someone smarter and older should be making these decisions for me. But that's just how it's always been. I should probably get used to that. Siiiiigh.

When I have big things to think about, stupid little things make me abnormally angry.

Like the other drain on the bathtub that tells you how full your bathtub can be. I was just sitting there basically fuming, thinking "Where do these people get off? This is my bathtub. In my house. If I want it to be too full, it'll be too full."

But then it got more complex that that. I started getting more angry that I can't control more things in my life.

I can't control if my best friend wants to hang out with drunken redneck lame-o's who will push her away from God and where she needs to be.

I can't control my friends getting pregnant.

I can't control what my parents do.

None of it is my hands. I mean, I feel like it should be. I always take responsibility for things I really don't need to.

Ever since, I was little I've been told "Oh, don't worry about anything. God's in control."

That's such a broad statement. A Sunday school answer to playground trauma. I mean, we don't really think about it until we feel like we can't conrtol anything.

Basically, what I've gathered is that I need to stop trying to make everything go the way I personally think it should be going and just let things flow.

You really can't control the flow of His plans, you can only disrupt it.

Which I don't plan on doing anymore.

--------

So apparently, more people read my blog than I thought they did... Like 16 actually. Whoa.

Just a metaphor.

You know how you always have that one puzzle piece that looks like it'd fit perfect for the empty space on your puzzle? But then you try to make it fit and it just doesn't fit at all?
That's how I feel.

Hey you. Here's this.

It just really doesn't fit on the page. But that's okay.

Social Networking.

I was thinking about the concept of social networking.
Probably because I watched THE WORST movie I have ever seen today. It was The Social Network.. Basically, it's about this guy who invents Facebook and gets sued by rich Harvard Law students who aren't used to people telling them they can't have something.
Anyways, my Facebook started to make me mad.
Just by clicking my "Info" button, my basic perception of myself is summarized for anyone who feels compelled to read it.
I mean you can see what I like, who I hang out with, my interests, and my political views. (I hate politics so I filled that box with "Glenn Beck.")
I don't like being summarized. AT ALL. Are we really not that complex?

I like to think I'm a bit more complex than the other 500 billion Facebookers.
Everybody and their mom has one. Even my mom, the most non-conforming of them all, has one.
Her latest Facebook escapade was creating an event called "Man Chasing" and inviting me and all of my friends. Even the male ones. It was hilarious. I think if people took Facebook in a not-serious manner people wouldn't advertise their personal lives all over their walls so much. Like, when someone gets dumped, EVERYONE knows.
Why? Because Facebook told them so.
I'd personally like to be less transparent.

I don't know.

Flashback.

It's time for summer. And previous summer flashbacks.

We went to Silverwood.

It was a daaaang good time.

Destroy shoes.

Geting really big Slurpees just because you can.


 

 You climb on rocks and pose like geeks.

 Walmart parking lots. Just because.

 You spend over 24 hours with the same people.

You stop caring if you have sunburn and freckles.

Yooou.

If your life had a face, I would punch it.

I really wish people wouldn't change.

You know, when you make friends you never see that in the future they'll be saying "Screw you this is why we never talk."
It's a stupid situation. We grow up, you swear, you insult everyone who doesn't meet your criteria, you're perverted and you expect me not to say anything about it. That's not the way it works. It's just not. You're just not the same person. And it makes me sad.
I understand that everyone grows up and that losing friends is just going to happen. But sometimes it just kind of hits you hard.
and the worst part is, you know that they're telling people bad things about you. For telling them what they've become. Awesome.
I just don't understand why.
I'm one of those people that requires absolute reasoning when things happen.
Maybe you just chose your path. And I chose mine. And they don't intertwine.

It was indeed a battle.

So I had a Menchie's Frozen Yogurt date with my ladies tonight.
Jamie Fox was just taking way too long to show up. So Elisa and I were sitting in her car interpretive dancing to Mumford and Sons when this homely mid-30's couple pulls in to the parking space in front of us.
Our headlights were on, and the couple made it very obvious that they were displeased.
Then.. It was a staredown.
The man with the frames and receeding hairline and I locked eyes for too long.
I won. He looked away first.

I like my life.

I had something good to blog about..

But then I was informed that the History Channel is having a special on the Valentine's Day Massacre.
That must be watched. So I'm cutting this business short. (:
Being the holiday enthusiast I am, I had an eventful day.
My dad got me a new plant. And then I got some Play Doh. SCOOOORE!

Hooray for consumer-driven holidays that celebrate the massacre of saints. Hahaha.
A majority of America spent over $30 on their lover who feels 100% entitlted to recieve something from them. Uhhhh, cool.
That's kind of funny to me. (:
I'd rather have an adventure or something cool that doesn't cost money, you know?

I'm wearing socks today.

Normally, I never ever wear socks with Toms. But I am today.
I'm going to be walking about downtown Tacoma and eating food. And I don't want my feet to be all cold and what not. That would be very unpleasant.

I hate squash more than any food in the world. It's Satans's favorite snack.

That's all I have to say today.

I'm with these people:

I like these things.

I like receiving grace that I don't deserve. God just doesn't run out of love. I like that.

I like mt iPod quite a bit. It's a good Christmas present.

I like my hamster. He's quite the little gentlemen. One day, I will take him to foggy London town.

I like it when other people have babies. I like babies. Especially chubby cuddly ones. Those are nice.

I like my family. I really do. And I'm glad I can say that. I like that.

I really like it when you get a text from someone. And it's the person you wanted to text you.. (:
That's nice. But it hasn't happened since last night. When I was sleeping. Dumb.

I like naps. Especially when they weren't supposed to happen. Like, at an inappropriate times.
Those are good.

I like randomly going into a hiccup fit after eating a pancake.

I like going to the zoo. It makes me happy.

I like wearing my cheetah print footie jammies.

I like laughing. But not giggling. Giggling is irritating.

I like it when my friends go to Las Vegas for a missions trip. I'm really excited to hear about all the cool stuff that God's going to do throughout the week.

I like going to Applebee's for half-price appetizers after youth group with my crew. That's good.

I like that one kid.

I like the Steelers. They're going to send the Packers packing.

I like to brush my teeth and floss. So wonderful.

I like the smell of my shampoo. Organic is good.

I like my lava lamp.

I like GREASERS. So hot.

I like corrective eyewear. I would probably die from some horrendous accident without it.

I like being happy. It's my favorite.

I like the gee-tar. But I can't play it.
I guess I'm okay with that.

I like swinging at night time. With a partner in crime, of course.

I like me.

I like you.

I like us.

West Virginia?

You know, when you ask your childhood friend's younger brother about how their sister that used to be your best friend is doing you expect a response like "She's doing awesome!" Or depending on the situation something like "Not so good." I even expected something like that.

The response I did not expect was "She got married and moved to West Virginia."
But that's what I received.
... What? It was pretty shocking. The concept of West Virginia being a location of interest to anyone is slightly humorous. I just don't know how I feel about that, really.

I mean, it's just weird to think about someone you spent a large portion of your childhood with just gets married and moves to West Virginia. Hahaha.

Man, I'm getting old.
But it's okay. Because this is how I roll:
He alone is my Rock and my Salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. -Psalm 62:6

(Yes, I've noticed that my most recent blogs are related. And that's purely unintentional.)

I've Found the End.

Where the Sidewalk Ends.

The moment was not as glorious as finding where a rainbow ends. It just didn't feel right for some reason. Like it was something I never should have to see. I mean, when we're little we veiw the sidewalk as an eternal pathway that has no end and has no beginning. How can we not? At a young age, we assume everything lives forever and dogs can't die. Until your dog actually dies. Then your entire little world falls apart and reality weighs 49835654 pounds.

In a sense, that's how this was for me. Being nauseated and potentially having a stomach flu, I found this encounter way more personal than I normally would. Being sick generally has that effect on me... For some unfathomable reason, the looming cloud of adulthood drifted over my head and I started craving the innocence of childhood and being lead to believe that this little path paved for me would never end.

Finding the end of the sidewalk symbolized stepping off the "safe-zone" of childhood and adolescence. I realized the road wouldn't be paved for me anymore. I have to lay my own pavement now.

I think I'm ready for it, though. It doesn't scare me as much as it should. I know who I am, and I know what I want to do and who I want to be.
According to Erik Erikson's stages of psychosocial development, the purpose of adolescence is to achieve a state of identity.
There are some definite tweaks that need to be worked out, but that's what college is for, right? No one knows how to do the whole "life" thing perfectly, and I don't intend to try.

I think I'm definitely on the right track though. The beauty of life is not knowing all the details.

Outburst.

I understand that it's "orange chicken." But I don't see why there needs to be orange peels in the chicken.
It's apalling. Real people don't actually eat them.

Today was mediocre. It started out with unpleasant faculty members who pick on not-cheerleaders. So I took the elevator in sheer rebellion. Without written permission. That's really the only way I can rebel.

Then I watched some kid heave a milkshake all over a parking lot. It was awful.
That made my day.
I tried my hardest not to laugh. It just didn't work. Jerk move of the day.

I'm going to throw paint at people in a bit. So that's good. Hooray, hooray.
I was going to go to Zach's acoustic show at the Oasis Cafe with Joe and friends.
But I'm going to some kid's throw-paint-at-other-kids party instead.

I feel like sleeping outside tonight. Proabably won't end up doing it.

I love Ferraby Lionheart. I've been listening to that guy all day.
He's good stuff.

Outburst = DONE.

kthanks.

Beware of Heater Vents.

When I was like, six years old I had one of those freak albino hamsters with scurry red eyes.
His name was Carl. Carl was impolite. And always showed his teeth.

He looked like this: (But less cute. More malicious and sadistic-y.)

I Google image'd "albino freak hamster" to find this. Because that's what he was.
Anyways, I could never hold him like the individual in the photo is holding their albino freak hamster.
Carl let no one touch him. I used to think his eyes were red because he ingested my mother and I's blood every time he sank his albino freak teeth into our flesh.
My mother later explained that my theory was incorrect. He was no mutation. Probably just a sociopath.


Carl's ball was the wall of safety between him and I. It was the only way I could show him any affection without endangering my life.
He scurried about my house in his spherical world all the time. I guess you could say he was content with that.
I'm not 100% sure though. Like I said, we didn't talk much.

One fine evening, after a strenuous day at elementary school, my mother and I fell asleep as Carl was parousing our living quarters in his ball.
No one thought about him before sinking into blissful slumber.

When I awoke, I made a devastating discovery...
Carl, slow cooked to death on a heater vent. His ball had been encased on a aluminum death trap enclosed by thick home carpeting.
I ran to his corpse, let out an agonizing wail and waited for my mother to come to my side.
I can remember her reaction perfectly. "Oh! Uhm.. I think he's dead, honey."
With the confirmation of his demise, the wailing only intensified. I wailed for over an hour.
I grieved my loss for about an hour. Then I was over it.
He was impolite, anyways.

Hence, my title. If a friend of yours' cruises your house in a plastic ball, I highly recommend you obstruct all access to heater vents. With a new hammy companion, I take many precautions to maintain his safety.
He's a more polite fellow.

His name is Dr. Lawrence Delight. He looks like this:

He likes to cuddle. And he's fan-say.
He's not an albino freak. And he will NEVER come into contact with a heater vent.
Learn from your mistakes, kids.

Lower Still.

Lower Still by My Epic.

Look, He's covered in dirt.
The blood of his mother has mixed with the Earth,
and she's just a child who's throbbing in pain,
from the terror of birth by the light of a cave.

Now they've laid that small baby
where creatures come eat.
Like a meal for the swine who have no clue that He is
still holding together the world that they see.
They don't know just how low he has to go,
Lower still.

Look now He's kneeling He's washin' their feet.
Though they're all filthy fishermen, traitors and theives.
Now he's pouring his heart out and they're fallin' asleep.
But He has to go lower still

There is greater love to show,
hands to the plow,
further down now,
blood must flow.
All these steps are personal.
All His shame is ransom.
Oh do you see, do you see just how low, He has come
do you see it now?
No one takes from Him
what He freely gives away.

Beat in His face
tear the skin off his back.
Lower still, lower still.
Strip off His clothes,
make Him crawl through the streets.
Lower still, lower still.
Hang him like meat,
on a criminal's tree
Lower still, lower still.
Bury His corpse in the Earth.
Lke a seed, like a seed, like a seed
Lower still, lower still.

ower still, lower still...

The Earth explodes.
She cannot hold him!
And all therein is placed beneath Him.
and death itself no longer reigns.
It cannot keep the ones he gave himself to save
and as the universe shatters the darkness disolves.
He alone will be honored.
We will bathe in his splendor.
As all heads bow lower still.
All heads bow lower still.

It's incredibly difficult to comprehend that God would love us so much that He would place Himself in this position. It blows my mind. It really does.
Do we deserve it? No. We never will.
But that's what makes it so beautiful. The grace that we can't even begin to understand.

The Triple Rainbow.

Recently, I had this dream where my soulmate Jamie and I discovered a TRIPLE RAINBOW.
The sight was incredible.
Her and I were walking down a stone path that eventually lead to the exposition of a beatiful mountainside.
But the mountainside was not alone. It was accompanied by the most beautiful triple rainbow anyone could ever see.
"Hey, bro. Do you see what I see?"
"Yeah man, how could I not?"
At this sight, we were absolutely overwhelmed. We began to weep and babble about how beautiful it was. Kind of like that one guy from that one YouTube video. Yeah, him.
I even started rolling around on the ground.
Then we started taking pictures of the triple rainbow. But we had like, legit photography cameras and what not.
It was a dream. That's about it. Really cool.
Connection? I think yes.

My First Step Into the World of Blog.

This whole thing started with "I'm going to go to my math homework."
Then I remembered that not only did I desire a blog, but my stepmother feels it will benenfit potential college acceptance. Two for one!
You know how they like, look at things like blogs and Facebook to see if you're not some drunken adolescent liar-face? Yeah, like that.

Future Content: Spiritual stuff, the pure irony of my everyday activities, music junk, Bible analyzation, adventures I embark on, God moments I feel need to publicly broadcast, and maybe some other ramblings.

I think that list can summarize it pretty well.
Whooooo. Now I need some faithful followers and I'll be like the Frodo Baggins of the blogging community.
That'd be cool.