Lack of Lazy

My college semester ends this week, and it's the first one I've attended since my serving my two-year mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.Everything is wrapping up the way it always does; friends are leaving for home, apartments are being cleaned and the last few episodes of TV series are being crammed in. Finals are all but over - I have one at two o'clock this afternoon and then I'm finished - and there's an air of calm on campus. The rush of finals week has ended. Sighs are a little bit deeper and smiles are a little bit broader.

 I've noticed something about myself, however. Something that I caught a glimmer of over Thanksgiving break. I realized that I'm not the kind of person who gets excited for the end of things. I love beginnings. Not to say I'm the type of person who starts things and never finishes, because I'm not. But, to me, there's something about starting new that's really cathartic. Grades are reset to zero, and it can only get better. New friendships are forged with classmates. There are things to do, places to go and people to see.

 Over Thanksgiving, I was bored. Maybe bored isn't the right word, because the family I stayed with in Meridian was a blast. I think a better word would be antsy. Why was I so anxious? My teachers had all slammed us with homework prior to the break so that we wouldn't have to do any while we were gone. I thought I would really appreciate this. But then, there I was, day one of Thanksgiving break, checking i-Learn, eyes frantically scanning for an assignment to complete. I feel like I've forgotten the art of being lazy.

 Maybe it has something to do with my laid-back nature. I don't run races, I run just to run. I don't play games to win as much as I play to have fun (rhyme unintended). That doesn't mean I don't have a competitive Mike living inside me, I definitely do. But it really only comes out on my academic and career side. As for the rest of life, I'm not too concerned about being first or the best or the fastest. Point is this: I'm excited for break, but really I'm only excited to see my family and friends and get presents - at least I'm honest. But secretly, I'm really excited to start next semester and have classes and work and deadlines, because I'm pretty much useless if I don't have something to do.

 You know what though?

 That's a flaw I'm ok with.


 - Mike


 Maintain Consciousness - Relient K

Hap Ha Birt Da

Halfy Birthday to me!




Six months ago, I turned 21 and in six months I will be 22. (Yes, I know, my math skills are impeccable) Half birthdays are always interesting because they're like half the birthday with 0% of the fun. Really, it's more for me to have something to tell people about all day. Also good for having a reason to post on the blog in mid-November.

Here are some of the things I've done with the 6 months I've had of being 21:

- Become an uncle! (See earlier posts)
- Finished my mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
- Started back to college
- Bought a ukulele
- Got my appendix removed
- Grew a beard
- Read the whole New Testament
- Got a smartphone
- Saw Death Cab for Cutie
- Wrote a new song
- Rode a train
- Threw a snowball
- Been at the beach for approx. a tenth of the time
- Opened a bank account
- Subscribed to Inc. and Spin magazines
- Grew out my hair
- Joined another band
- Bummed around Charlotte for a few days
- Got all A's in college (so far...)
- Bought three new pairs of shoes
- Made new friends
- Threw up
- Played in a chess tournament
- Completed my first online class
- Grew a handlebar mustache

I'm sure there are some things I missed, but you get the point. I actually didn't realize how many things I'd done in the past sixth months. Making this list was kind of cool. I'd highly encourage you to do the same if you ever feel like life is boring. It's not as lame as you'd think.


- Mike


Zebra - Beach House

Neptunalia

The beach.

Something about those two words stirs in us something different. Something that's both excited and relaxed; it's unlike any other place, really. It means something different for each person, and yet is a common denominator in the way it makes us feel younger, happier and at peace. All of this, of course, depends largely upon where you choose to visit the shoreline.

Some choose to make a day visit to crowded, tourist-ridden areas where children play in the shallows and adults fraternize in the surf. Towels spot the sand like a near-completed abstract puzzle, containing colors, patterns and occasionally, a picture of Elvis. The noise of hundreds of cheerful voices fill the air, along with the cacophony of reggae, ska and, at times, country music.

Then, there are those who decide to attend the coast with a select few of their closest friends, renting a beach house for a modest fare. These can be found lounging around the porch, on that same consistent spot on the beach or dining at a local gem of a dive many have yet to experience. Typically, they strive to choose the less-crowded areas of the beach, though the company of others is a welcome sight as they travel from the house to the sand.

There are others, still, who prefer the shore for it's highest calling: an isolated strip that serves as the antidote to the pangs that accompany the everyday ailments of life. A place of calm and of comfort. Of familiarity, even if it's the first time. The shore begs for, almost requires, introspection and deep thought. Standing in the sands that have been beaten around in the ocean for millenia and finally found a resting place, one can stare out into the vast plains of water and wonder who might be doing the same on an opposing shore. In truth, although language, currencies and cultures may be different, every soul yearns for the ocean. They just may not know it yet.

And so we stare, and wonder.


- Mike


Temazcal - Monsters of Folk