I may have mentioned to a some people last year that I was being “consumed” by a certain project, and needed to put it away. I never actually said that I did not finish it first.
It’s been along time. So, this is what I keep in my closet. I have been learning an awful lot of web programming lately in order to make that page, so I do hope it works.
Today I finished school. I mentioned this to someone yesterday who responded, “That would make a great birthday present.” I can’t imagine how this particular person would have actually known when my birthday was, which makes for a terribly unusual thing to say. While talking to someone else, it came out that my grades are, in fact, quite good, and they asked, “Are you actually really smart and you’ve just been hiding it from me this whole time?” Uh… what do you do with that?
Anyway, I never imagined that this day would actually come. At first I was numb. Then I was nauseous. My God, what a waste. That’s an awful lot of years I won’t be getting back.
So what happens now? i’ve done what you asked. Can i please come home now? Done, you say? Hardly. Stagnation is not perseverance.
There is a certain expectation that upon completing a degree in electrical engineering, one seeks employment in the field of electrical engineering. I realized a couple of weeks ago that, all other things aside, doing that would most likely involve moving. Now, I’m not strictly opposed to moving. You know, I once left my job, my house, my girlfriend and moved to a different state to learn how to build guitars?
-No you didn’t.
No really, I did. It happened. I was there.
-Oh, please. I know you too well… and I don’t believe it.
Whatever. I wasn’t planning on staying in California my whole life anyway. It’s just that I don’t want to move somewhere that is not a developing nation and I certainly do not want to do any electrical engineering when I get there. I’m not interested in having to start over someplace where no one knows me, for no good reason. But haven’t I spent months whining that no one even really knows me here?
So, endings, beginnings. I broke a guitar string yesterday. Those were originals. They came with the guitar. I had them for six years. Now that’s absurd. I’ve also been having such strange dreams and strange thinkings lately. How can I have such wildly different interests and priorities from one day to the next? What’s the matter with me? I’m too old for this crap.
By the way, as long as we’re somewhere near the subject, there’s something that’s been bothering me. Which is this:
N.O. 2/21
A.J. 4/2
E.D. 8/4
D.B. 5/2
J.D. 1/25
K.K. 12/12
A.D. 12/4
I don’t know. Maybe it’s unusual of me to dwell on such things.
You know, I don’t think that I have.
A long time ago I set out to prove something, set out to find something. And a long time ago I lost my way.
There’s been a lot of talk about mentors lately. I admit that as a new Christian I did not appreciate the importance of having a mentor. I regret that now. It was not until I went through a Campus Crusade Bible study about how Jesus chose disciples who would make more disciples and so forth. This is is what true Christianity is.
And how am I supposed to make disciples? You know, I was never even “lead to Christ.” I was just sort of kicked toward Christ and then left to figure it all out on my own. I have never even attempted to share the gospel because I wouldn’t wish what I’ve been through on anyone. Should it really be on me to find a mentor? Is that not like a child choosing his own parents? What kind of church would allow a young man to wander in and randomly poke at things for FOUR YEARS without ever bothering to find out if he really “gets it”? But finding my own mentor really is my responsibility, because we just aren’t set up for that kind of thing.
A couple years ago now, I was talking to someone about not quite this topic but something similar, and suddenly something snapped and I started listing example after example of times when I had honestly tried to ask questions, and either the person did not understand what I was asking or they just didn’t know or never got back to me or whatever. Each case taken individually was perfectly excusable, but taken all together only reinforced the idea that no one had the answers I was looking for. So naturally, I eventually just stopped asking questions.
I have been trying to post on Friday’s, and last week I was planning to describe my impasse with God in detail… but then I got some unexpected news.
My God… they actually named the baby after me. I… I better start doing something with my life.
I mean, they probably didn’t literally name him because of me… but surely they must have realized that that was my name, especially considering that, well, I had told them to do it. I was simultaneously shocked, honored, flattered, confused, and… horrified. Why would anyone do that? I am not a role model!
On another matter, tonight was certainly the first time that I’d heard of anyone using the F-word during prayer requests. And I wish I could say that was the worst thing that I’d done this week. It wasn’t even the worst thing that I said to anyone today alone.
So to you iiitimothy, I sincerely hope you do better than I done.
As for me, well, a lot of other “that was weird” moments happened this weekend. Too many to mention now. The kind of thing that makes you wonder if someone’s not trying to tell you something.
Two Sundays ago, I had a particular engagement to attend. It was located approximately ten miles from my house, and I had decided in advance that I would ride my bicycle there. (I purchased this bicycle for $10 at a garage sale some months ago, and it is somewhat surprising that I have yet to mention it, as I love it dearly. )
The foolishness of this plan became apparent rather quickly. Though I choose the bicycle over my car whenever feasible, I had yet to ride more than two miles at a time, if that. So here, I had chosen to do my first long ride, predominantly uphill, in the heat of a July afternoon… having eaten very little that day, I might add. Never-the-less, I persisted.
Approximately halfway through my journey, I had to stop. I had already traversed the steepest hill, but the rest of the way was still almost entirely uphill. I had also gotten a much later start than I had planned, and it was taking longer than I anticipated. At this rate, I would arrive so late as to hardly make the trip worthwhile. However, to give up and turn around would require going back over the hill that I had just come down, which was not an attractive option.
It occurred to me that there were probably at least five people that I could call who would drop whatever they were doing and come pick me up right then. But how embarrassing would that be? If I know myself at all, I would much sooner pass out by the side of the road than call anyone for help.
I had no choice but to pray and continue on my way, motivated by the fact that there was a pool at my destination; to which I successfully arrived, a mere hour and a half late.
The next Sunday, I was returning from church on my bicycle. I never did see what I hit, but I certainly heard the crunch and the hiss and felt the unpleasant loss of pressure in the back tire. I walked the bicycle for a significant amount of the way home, before eventually deciding that this too was madness. I eventually located a discrete place to chain it up and walked the rest of the way home to get my car and retrieve it.
Once again, having apparently learned nothing the week previous, not only did I avoid calling anyone, but I even walked past the house of someone that I know without stopping to ask for assistance.
Last week, I finished my 5 week crash course in Psychology. I found it pretty interesting. (Which furthers my claim that if you randomly select one GE course and one major course that I’ve taken, I will almost invariably have enjoyed the GE course more. (People think that I’m being facetious when I say that I have a midterm in my 4:00 class, and they ask what class that is, and I respond, “It’s the class that I have at 4:00.” I know the time and the location, and that it has something to do with ECE, and beyond that I honestly don’t care.))
Of course, both in the book and in the videos I had to watch, they seemed to be repeatedly emphasizing, “No really… this is real science… honestly…” Which becomes less convincing with each instance.
Nevertheless, there were some interesting ideas. One was the “spotlight effect”, which is when one assumes that people are paying more attention to you than they really are. That certainly applies to me. I only blog because it makes me feel like people give a crap.
Another concept really made me think, now there’s what’s wrong with me:
I suffer from a great deal of cognitive dissonance.