Things that are only good in theory

Learning other languages
Doing it yourself
The state of Florida
Sand anywhere other than the beach
Reading when you are really tired
George Foreman grill
Doing shit on Sunday
Dog toys that make noise
Hairbrushes
Vibrating razors (is this not terrifying to anyone else?)
Waiting until the morning instead of doing it the night before
Really small laptops
Kind of big phones
Trail mix
Blogs

Well Here's Your Problem

I think the number one problem with my generation is that we don't finish what we start.  We don't have the ability to just sit down, accept the situation, do what should be done, and finish it.  There are so many potential reasons for this I don't even know where to begin, but I'm sure you can think of plenty more.

Over-stimulation and influx of information.  How the fuck is anyone supposed to focus?

We were told never to settle.  This is, of course in direct contrast to what every other generation who ever lived was told, which was essentially "deal with it."

Most of us grew up spoiled.  Again, compared to 99% of the people who have ever lived or who live in less fortunate circumstances, living in a warm shelter, lit with electricity and fed until we are all fat isn't such a bad deal.  The only thing is, we get complacent, then we expect more and more and more.

We were told we could do anything.  I am someone who struggles with this because I sometimes feel like I'm trying to be EVERYTHING instead of just what I can be.  And I jump from one thing to the next without finishing what I started.


Most people are fat and lazy.

The thing is, there are no excuses.  At a certain point, we as individuals (everyone, not just those in my generation) need to realize that we are in complete control of what we choose to do, who we choose to be, and what we choose to finish.  I have hope that young people will use the power of technology and information to become more aware and informed, and change the way people think and behave.  It has never been so easy to be so well educated, and yet, there are just so many damn Taco Bells.

Don't go to Taco Bell.  Do something useful.

This has been a rant.

Work

The next time someone says "ugh, Monday again" or "it's almost Friday!" you should cover your ears and walk away.  That kind of attitude is indicative of why so many people in this country are depressed, overweight slobs.  Think of someone you admire.  Do you think they worked for the weekend?  Of course not.  The weekend is nothing more than two days with different names.
Work is a beautiful thing.  It is what makes a person feel like they are part of a society and ultimately, what allows society to be possible.  Don't feel like you are just another cog in the machine.  You aren't.  And if you are, get another job.  Step back and try to ignore the confines of what your country and your parents and your government has consciously or subconsciously indoctrinated, and examine your life in relation to the world.
Are you making an impact?  Are you helping others?  Have you earned the things you have?  Are you doing something that makes you feel fulfilled?  Are you the person you want to be?
It's not that complicated, but it isn't that easy either.  Do what you want to be doing and live with passion.  The rest will fall into place.
Or don't.  What do I care?  (Just kidding)

Angelo Excerpt

This is an excerpt from "Scared Children With Cars."

            The ice cold water soothed him a little, and at least made his feel like he could breathe again.  He no longer felt like he was overheating, although his chest and back and arms began to itch, and he had no doubt that there was a large red rash spreading.  He pretended not to notice and once again, began to jog on the machine.  This time, to distract himself, he turned on the TV.  There was an old high school football game on, but that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.  He flipped through the channels casually, forgetting about the dying old man outside and his job and his home and all of his problems that seemed so inescapable at that moment.  Then he turned the channel one too many times and he saw it.  There it was: the exact giant from his dream.  It was walking across the desert and resting down beneath a tree, arms wide apart as it sat, exactly like the coach’s dream.  Angelo fell off the back of his treadmill and went somersaulting backwards into the wall.  A couple of people looked over at him, but he jumped right back up and insisted that he was fine, refusing any help or attention. 

            He looked back up at the TV and there it was, eyeless, mouthless, featureless, pure white, gigantic, with huge arms and legs, and smooth skin pulled over its sinew, like icing on a cake: perfect, seamless, hairless.  He gawked and his mouth hung open, terrified like he was seeing the devil for the first time, and for the first time believing in hell.  He turned the TV off and stared at the blue screen.  He walked over to the locker room to get his things, the words “you know that’s what you saw” repeating over and over furiously in his head, like a recording of a madman repeating his insane mantra.  And so “you know what you saw” became Angelo’s mantra: his torturous mantra that could not be silenced nor reasoned with.  He gripped his gym bag with a pearl white fist and refused to put on his winter coat. 

            As he walked down the stairs, he attempted to appear calm and normal.  Ignoring the voice echoing through his mind.  The glass door opened and then he saw the mob of people, an ambulance, and an old man in a gurney being lifted into the deathtrap.  Angelo roared at the top of his lungs, up at the sky, with his head thrown back and his arms out, fists clenched, palms up, elbows bent, like a man who was starting a brawl with heaven.  He ran as fast as he could to his car, somehow never losing his footing.  The doors were unlocked and he jumped in and sped away, “you know what you saw…you know what you saw…you know what you saw…you know what you saw…you know what you saw…you know what you saw…”

Woman Enjoys Everything in New York So Much, Can't Enjoy Anything Else Ever Again

   Nancy Killian, a woman from a rural town in southwest Indiana, vacationed in New York City this past fall, marking the first time she had ever left the state of Indiana.  During the three day vacation, Nancy reportedly ate bagels, rode the subway and tried some pizza as well.  There are conflicting reports of her being mugged after getting off at the wrong stop in Brooklyn.
   Friends say that upon her return to Indiana, Nancy couldn't let go of New York.  "She would just compare everything to one stupid fucking thing she saw or did in New York," says Sally Mae, a long time friend.  "She was only there for three days but claimed she just couldn't eat pizza from anywhere around here anymore."
   Nancy's father Abel echoed Sally's story.  "We went to the grocery store a few weeks ago and all she would talk about was how cheap everything was and how it just didn't look as good as it did in New York.  Her grandfather owns the store and the produce is all local and organic.  But to Nancy, nothing could be as good as New York."
  Nancy battled depression, claiming that "nothing is that awesome around here, everything is much more awesome in New York.  "This one time in New York I stayed up until like four and everything was still open.  It was crazy!"
   In a state of general malaise, Nancy roamed the streets of her hometown in the dead of night, knocking on doors and seeing if anyone wanted to go to a club.
   Eventually, it was too much for her.  She decided that if she was going to turn her life around, she'd have to make a move quickly.  So Nancy bought a one way ticket to Paris, apparently "the only place on earth as good as New York...maybe."  After arriving, Nancy was so thrilled at all of the aspects of Paris that were "millions of times better than any stupid thing in Indiana" that her head exploded waiting in line for the Louvre.

The Onion

I have decided that since I love the onion so much and find it so hilarious, I am going to do my own fake articles for fun.  So here we go.

And I can tell you exactly when it happened....

The moment I got old:  when I decided that shirts actually do look better tucked in

The moment I knew I would never go back to school:  the first week after I stopped going to school

The moment I became a true American:  when I mowed my lawn just so it looked better than my neighbor's

The moment I knew I wanted to marry my wife:  first time she agreed to watch Lord of the Rings, then wanted to watch the second and third

The moment I knew I was strange:  met Charles Frantz

The moment I hit rock bottom:  drank three cans of pepsi and a bag of bugles in English class during food day

The moment I started hating myself:  started blog

About "Scared Children With Cars"

This novel has been three years in the making.  It is the story of five lives.  The five main characters are battling personal crises in the midst of a global event.  It is about how individuals deal with fear, and to some extent how we deal with change and uncertainty as well.


In the beginning of the novel, we are introduced to the characters through a series of relatively mundane events.  We get to know them, a little about who they are and what makes them tick.  Then they start to experience personal revelations.  They begin to question the world around them and their perception of it.


Then we get the global event.  A possibly supernatural occurrence takes place in the deserts of West Africa.  The world takes notice, and many believe it is an omen of the end of times.  Some of our main characters believe this.  Some are skeptical.  Some think it is nonsense.  As the date of the alleged end times draws near, the characters begin experiencing even more hardship and serendipitous encounters until the story reaches a frantic climax.


At the heart of it all, there is Angelo: the realist.  The hard-working American who asks nothing from anyone and is content living his days on his own.  Happy living a simple life until events from the outside world come crashing through his walls and into his home.  And there is Tim: the idealist.  Although Tim has no personal contact or reason to believe in the end time speculation, he is swept up by it.  He becomes enamoured with the idea.  They are the antithetical characters that drive the story forward, and keep doubt in the back of the mind of the reader.


This is a story about love, fear, perception of reality, and how individuals are able to deal with what life presents.