And I Hope

Merry Christmas to everyone who may stumble across this little posting.
I'm just fine today, and happy to report it. Tired, but happy.

If anyone comes across some words, could you package them for me, I'm hoping that mine come back soon, for I miss them. I'm hoping that my latest schemes to move out of my 'rent's house lead to a rebirth of my etch-able ebb and flow.
And I'm hope, truly, that you all have a very Merry Christmas.

I think I avoid posting here, which is quite amusing, because that's why I made the account- to post, to write, to... have it. Done. Why am I afraid to write, to open? Was I hurt too much by how much of myself I put into it? What can be done to begin again? I think I am a little afraid, that's why I don't post- I'm afraid I'll open up and let it all out. And I don't want people to know what I'm thinking anymore, I don't think... hmmm.
I'll have to see what happens over the next few months, where I wind up. I decided it's time to move out of mom & dad's place and strike out on my own, where I can make my own decisions, organise things the way I want them organised, and not have to worry about their problems. I feel for them, I'm bummed that the current economic situation is causing them stress, but I can't emotionally handle staying here to "help out" not that I've been much help since I've been here.
I'm starting to sound juvenile to myself, am I being selfish? AGH! NO! That's the same cycle I get caught up in EVERY SINGLE TIME! So, I'm outta here in a few months, no debating. All I have to do now is get my stuff sorted and figure out just where I'm gonna live.

Anyway, it's Christmas day and I've got a phone call to make. :)

~oceanmemories

Is this where Einstein got his ideas?

I'm adjusting... mabye it's best left at that. I never had any false hope that it would get easier when the mission was over, but near the end I'd have been lying if I had told you I wasn't eagerly anticipating the change of routine... Well shoot-dang brother, quite the change it has been, and continues to be. I can't even pretend to be ahead of the curve on this one. The Elders in my area here in San Diego stopped by tonight, and I told them that the strangest thing was how the elasticity of time didn't revert to the innocent state I seem to recall it having before my Mission (perhaps it's only the nostalgic irridescence of memory anyway). It seems that before, time moved only forward, always at a steady pace. Then on my mission, I had been out for a year and had only been in the MTC the week before. Now here I am, I've only been home for a literal 4 1/2 months and it feels like I've been back for a year, and like I only got off the plane yesterday. I've been up and down so many times I think I may have either whiplash or an impacted spinal column. Sure, part of it has to do with depression, related medications, and the inherent, aberrent behaviours associated with such a drastic shift in climate and routine, but damn. I'm barely making it. On my last day at work, as I was apologising, a co-woker, Dan, told me his motto was "Adapt and move forward." I think his motto changes according to the situation at hand, but that was a good one. Can I do it? That's a good question. I'm pretty tired of the answer depending on which day I'm asked. Do I always do what I already know I should because I've tried and proven it? Do I always read my scriptures? No. Pray? No. Eat a balanced, healthy diet? No. At least exercise? Hell no. Why? Why don't I just suck it up and do some part of it, make some kind of effort? Why do I talk myself out of action when I'm down, even though I know that action would help? Do I always wait for a spur? ...
Why am I making this known in the limitless bounds of the ether-tubes? Hmm, I dunno, perhaps because it feels kind of like living, only safer. That sounds probably more fatalist than it really is. What I mean to say is that it feels like it's been a while since I've done something that scares me- even a little. Something to make me, you know, live a little. What does it take to scare me? Good question. Exposure. I'm not afraid to lose my job- even though when I quit the resulting emotion was more complex than I'd anticipated. I'm not afraid to fail- failure is actually my safety net. I am afraid of people and what they think of me, to an extent. I'm afraid to be seen for what I am, to be exposed to the point where my true and irrefuteable nature can no longer be denied, when others, but especially myself, must acknowledge my greatest fallibility, my most exploitable flaw:

I am undeniably, unmistakeably, flawlessly, and above all else perfectly....
HUMAN- As evidenced by my propensity towards irony... and milkshakes...

I have strange ideas.

As a preface, you should know that I often have fun little ideas course through my head in the midst of a conversation, therefore, if you ever have the singular pleasure of conversing with me and notice a far-off look in my eyes for a second or two, I probably just had a plot outline or something such as the following flash across my devious little brain. Because of this, I often wish I knew how to do flash animation or even just draw well so that I could illustrate a comic or something. So, if anyone who reads this happens to think it's a good idea, (despite appearances to the contrary) feel free to animate it and please send me a copy.

Our hero is a who is sick and tired of feeling like he fails at everything, like he's not good enough. He decides to join a workout club run by a group of local ostriches.. (yada yada yada- the title is Ostri-cising.. get it?)

Are you paying attention? Am I?

Apologies in advance for the not-so-veiled sexual reference

Just some trivial stuff on my mind today. Namely how disgustingly behind my forward-thinking is.
At work today, I noticed for the nth time the smarmy face of our dear friend Mr. Harrison Ford, reputed outstanding citizen of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, staring up at me. Out of curiosity, I pick up the October 2008 issue of NatGeo's "Adventure" magazine to see what it holds. I never make it to the article about Mr. Ford's rules of adventure, because just a few pages in I'm startled by a photo out of one of my very own daydreams; the backsides of dirt mounds in the background and a steel motorcycle ramp in the foreground, I find myself looking at an airborne motocrosser sailing over the arc of -what's this?- a fully airborne Subaru STI rally car. My inital wonderment and joy fade as I helplessly read the attached article. Rally is apparently making quite a mark these days in U.S. extreme sports culture. I thought I had grown out of the X-Games when I realized I could no longer skateboard, even though I secretly wished I could do something good enough to get into the games. Well, it just so happens that my beloved rally has been featured in the last several installments of the destination extreme sports event.
Now, before you think this is just a simple rant, please understand. I was under-exposed as a child. I knew nothing about rally in my formative years, for goodness sake I didn't really even know that club soccer was such a big deal, I thought only a few kids played it (I guess my deductive reasoning skills were still developing too, since the "few kids" represented about 60% of my friends). I discovered it some time in my teens, while perusing computer game cases at a shop or surfing cable channels at a friends house (we didn't have cable). I recall being mezmerized- after all, this was what I wanted to do when I drove my mom's 74 beetle around town, or better yet on those few occasions where I got to drive it down some washboard road in the desert for a camping trip. But you don't do those kinds of things in your mothers car. Well, not that you'd admit to, anyway... not even in a blog. I was not often the kind of kid to try that kind of stuff full-on, however. Are you kidding? That's a good way to really crash a car! I know, I've watched it on TV.
Anyway, here I am reading this article about a very talented kid named Travis Pastrana who sort of crashed the american rally scene on a wild hare, and Ken Block who's great idea's earned him the $ to finance his own upstart rally carrear. Of course he's got talent too, or he probably wouldn't be alive any more. I don't have a problem with these guys, though. What crushed me was that my obscure european sport is now being marketed to the generation I want to leave behind me... I suppose my problem is that I need to see the good in them, and I also need to realize that the true fans are the ones who will hike for hours to be on the turns and at the jumps that are 10, 12, 15 miles from the closest road that isn't closed for race day. It's becoming less and less obscure. On the bright side, it appears certain that the true fans will still be a pretty core bunch.
You know, I hated the idea of this new generation of rally fans for a while, but since I've had time to think as I've written this, I just might be OK with it after all. Besides, Rally is like a really amazing girlfriend. You just can't stay mad at someone who makes you feel like that. The fact that you get to slide all over her curves is just an incentive for making up.
~Oceanmemories

Sputtering Out

I think and think and think about how badly I need to write some things down... be it here or elsewhere. I think some more about it.
By the time I do something about all that thinking: I'm out of time- out of energy- tired.
Curse this stinking hole of a life I've made for myself.
I think that gets me more than about anything else. No matter how much I search for a scapegoat, the only one I can blame for my circumstances is myself, in some way or another.

Under The Whelming That Is Over Me

Whoa.
Too much going on- yet so little. I'm not even registered for classes yet and I'm already freaking out about the time crunch.

Starting to Move

I can't believe how quickly this past week has passed. I've not quite been home for two weeks and I already have done more than I feel like I've ever done in that short a span pre-mission. Maybe I did actually learn how to work a little harder out there.
So, I am again employed by Adventure 16 Outdoor and Travel Outfitters. I start on Monday. I've been shopping for a MacBook, because I am absolutely enthralled by their ease of use- having grown up with a father who lost most of his hair due to the fact that he's a computer programmer on DOS based machines (admittedly, I caused whatever hair may have been remaining to abandon it's post). Hopefully I'll be able to save up over a couple of months and get one of them-thar newfangled lap-desk-micro-apple-chip doo-dads. I'll be meeting with a counselor at Grossmont College on Monday to try to begin to plan out my educational path for the next little while. I'd like to have a newer car that I don't have to worry about breaking down if I take a trip in it. (Read: Subaru). Oh, did I mention that all of my belongings are scattered throughout the several rooms and storage spaces in this unfamiliar house my parents moved into while I was on my mission for the last two years? Well, they are.
Also, I'm being taken to a dance tonight- not entirely against my will, since I've been invited roughly 15 times by various friends- but I'm certainly not overjoyed about the prospect of hideously awkward conversations yelled over terrible music at a church singles dance. No offense to those who organize them, my social tendancies just seem to clash horrendously with mixers of this manner. Should I change, try to enjoy them? Probably. Will I try very hard at this point? Nope.

Hmm, that's a rather negative note to finish on- so I'll have to find something more positive to close with. Give me a minute whilst I sally forth to switch out my wash...

Ok, so I have a bad attitude about a few things- I'll be the first to tell you just how far from perfect I am. Well, now that it's about 10 minutes till the thing starts, mabye I'll shower and get out there to see what happens.

I'd rather stay home and write a letter.

A Second Chance For A First Impression

I've been meaning to get this site up and running so I can use the link as a general re-direct for any and all other personal sites I'm running, including: Facebook, MySpace, DeviantArt, YouTube, and whatever else you can think of. My purpose is in the fact that blogger seems less likely to be aggressive in marketing questionable websites/material in their banner ads. I like that, because it's one less hassle for me to worry about.
That being said- my plans for 'From The Ashes' include taking on the duties of being an outlet and sounding-board for me and my thoughts on various subjects, events, opportunities, and emotions. It will be, in essence, my attempt at a second chance to make a first impression to anyone re-directed here from one of those other sites.
Thanks for looking me up.

~Oceanmemories