Semper Fidelis

Sometime this morning, one of my best friends got on a plane to San Diego to begin his time in the United States Marine Corps.

Caleb and I have grown very close over the last two years...we've made some really good memories, but, just as importantly, he's been there for me for some of my biggest learning experiences. Each one of those old posts features some aspect of my life that he was either a part of or had a direct impact on. I have really valued our friendship thus far, and have him to thank for so many good times and for helping me grow as a Christian man.

Therefore, it's difficult for me to fathom a summer without him. He'll be in basic training most of the summer, and I won't get to talk to him again until, at earliest, August. It's tough for me to think about, and I can only imagine what it's like for his family or Anna.

But I know that this is something that's really important for him. I remember how much it meant to him to get into the Naval Academy, and how crushed he was when he narrowly missed the cut. He has a genuine desire to serve his country, and his chance to do so is now. I know how driven he is to succeed and I know he'll work his tail off to get the most out of it that he can.

So while it's sad for me to say goodbye to a close friend for such a long time (along with the added uncertainty that comes with the possibility of plenty more military service down the road), I'm excited for him to be able to fulfill his dream of serving in the Marine Corps.

I wish him God's blessings on his time in the Marines, God's protection if he is ever deployed in battle, and for God to give him the strength to be the best Marine he can be.

So for now, good buddy, I'll be praying for you. I'll toast ya with a Sun Drop and (discreetly) listen to Taylor Swift in your honor.

Now go off to San Diego and give 'em hell...I'll have the cigars ready when you're done.

Business as Usual

I often joke about being a businessman. Whether it's seriously overdressing for my retail job or making completely bogus, off-the-cuff marketing consultations to actual companies, I have worked to build a facetious persona of faux-professionalism.

So when spring break rolled around this year and I didn't have any major travel plans, I figured what better to do than to be a businessman? After I decided on a theme for my spring break I made a point to take an accompanying photo for each of the four points of being a true businessman.

I'm ridiculous.

Business as usual.

I. Golf Outings

When I started golfing almost two years ago during the magical summer of 2008, it was mostly for the fun of it, but also partially due to my knowledge that a lot of business is done on the golf course. After the torrid pace of golfing done by my high school friends (Caleb Meyer in particular) and myself during that first summer, I slowed down a bit last summer with only about 45 holes of golf or so. However, Caleb and I decided to get an early start on the links this year (especially because he won't be able to golf anymore once he leaves for the Marines in a month), knocking out a relaxed nine holes on one of my days off. Caleb and I have probably golfed at least 10 rounds or more together over the years and it's something that I hope we can keep doing as we get older and our responsibilities take us all over the country.

I'm still a fairly miserable golfer who averages about one good drive for every nine holes, but my putting skill is marginally enough to keep our rounds vaguely competitive. Of course, I always take the entire round to explain (with tongue firmly in cheek) that my fashion sense makes up for my lack of golfing skills. To that point, I have always appreciated the unspoken dress code of golf. Even when we golf par 3s and crummy public courses, I jump at the chance to throw a sweater vest over a polo, get a matching cap and put on a pair of slacks or plaid shorts. The way I see it, if I can't be an accomplished golfer, I might as well give people the false impression that I am.

And obviously, the conversation is great. Golfing wouldn't be any fun alone. Even though we always have a full 20-30 minute car ride to and from the course, there's something about walking the fairways that makes it more special. We'll talk about girls or school or life in between mumbling curses for a wicked slice or a sand-seeking drive and it's just excellent. Tuesday's round was even better as we got to get together with a few guys afterward, sit on the patio and have a Swisher or two. A fitting end to the day for a couple of colleagues. Business as usual.

II. Business Lunches

Many a contract has been hashed out over lunch at a casual sit-down place, so Wednesday I seized the opportunity to catch up with a friend and tie it into my week of professionalism. Anna is one of the friends from high school that I really enjoy staying in touch with, and our time spent together generally takes the form of going out for lunch, thanks to our busy schedules of work and school. That strikes me as a very adult thing anyway - my parents each still have their friends they keep in touch with, but unless they're relatives or family friends, the preferred and sensible way to stay in touch is to meet for lunch hour.

For Wednesday's lunch, Anna and I got the obligatory "I'll have my people call your people" and secretary jokes out of the way to pick a time to hit the pictured restaurant and catch up a little about life over sandwiches. The restaurant was pretty decent, and the experience on the whole was quite pleasant, as our "business lunches" always are. I stayed and we talked for a while after lunch and then I had to hurry off to Madison to work a closing shift. Business as usual.

III. Tax Forms

Through all the politics and culture of the business world, the ultimate point of it for most of those involved is to put dinner on the table and a roof over the head. This of course requires a salary to be involved. And if there's a salary involved, then both Uncle Sam and Bucky Badger are going to want their cut of it.

Although I had a fast food job for 2 months in 2008, 2009 was my first year of pulling in any considerable income. There just wasn't any financial pull to work before and during my time at USF, but the transfer to UW changed everything - and I have put in quite a few hours at the bullseye as a result. The work is plenty, but the income is steady. Too bad I know it's all going to sail out the window at the end of the school year. I can only imagine what it would be like to be working and not paying for college...

But while 5 months of hourly wages isn't a huge chunk of change, it still requires all the due diligence of filling out all my federal and state tax forms. Thusly, the better part of Thursday morning was spent doing data entry with a W-2 in hand. I've been working for a while, but I feel like, despite being busy work, putting a finished tax return in the mailbox kind of legitimizes the idea that I have a job. And of course pulling in a refund makes the pencil pushing seem less wearisome. Business as usual.

IV. Gainful Employment

Hopefully this picture (or at least the tone of this whole blog) properly conveys the sense of self-deprecation and irony I have about my position in life. Now and then (with increasing frequency lately) I will have a spur of the moment decision to go to work in a sweater vest, tie, and maybe a fauxhawk or something, just for the heck of it. I can't say exactly why I love doing it so much, but I guess it must be some combination of the business-mindedness I talk about and the desire to break the monotony of such a job now and then. I used to call it "Shallow Blake goes to Work" but now it's almost expected of me to class up the place on occasion. At a workplace in which going above and beyond uniform-wise means tucking in your shirt, my exploits are generally noticed by higher ups. One particular day of overdressing led to one of my supervisors starting a store-wide best dressed competition, which I narrowly won (for the dayside team at least) thanks to a purchase of white suspenders and some parted and slicked hair. Your move, Don Draper.

And of course it's all meant to be taken with a grain of salt. Of the 40 hours I put in this past week, I only spent one shift dressed as the Duke of Backstock. The rest of it was just plain work, in just plain work clothes.

And that's what it comes down to for most of the businessmen of the world, as I understand. Just plain work. Sure there are goals to achieve, and business trips to take, and donuts in the conference room, but for all the build-up of the corporate ladder and office politics, the more I learn about careers the more I figure out that a lot of it is just...work.

Putting in a 40-hour workweek is something I will probably be doing for decades to come, but it was a fascinating change of pace from the college life. At school, there is a constant pressure, with constant deadlines - your responsibility doesn't even come close to ending when you leave the lecture hall.

For that reason, the 40-hour workweek seemed positive to me. Sure, 8 hours a day, 5 times a week is quite a commitment, but once you leave work, you're done with work. What a novel idea! I'd love to be able to have the luxury of separating my work life and family life down the road.

But of course, it's not all perfect. I can imagine how it could get monotonous at times, as I'm told by those around me who have started their careers. And yes, a lot of it is just work.

But maybe my current naivete and idealism about career life after college can serve me well. Maybe I will be able to find joy in the little details that I so jubilantly add to my life here and there. My dad's philosophies about not letting work interfere with faith and family have always resonated with me and served as a model for how I want to live my life in the future - even if it means denying an opportunity or accolade to better serve my Lord or the needs of my family.

So basically, while I make a big deal out of the little nuances of professionalism that strike me as exciting or interesting, I never want my job to be any higher of a priority than it should be. Here at Madison, there is an immense pressure to fully devote one's self to a trade, to show a true dedication to a line of study which would indicate an unquenchable ambition. But I'm reluctant to jump on that wagon. I understand what it would mean to give my all, to try my best, but to completely devote myself to a trade just to get ahead, just to cash in on success and pride and status? It doesn't appeal to me anymore. I'd rather not be defined by my work so much as by what kind of person I am, what kind of Christian I am, and, God-willing, what kind of husband and father I am.

I'd still like to succeed in whatever career field I end up in. I still fully intend to work hard at my studies and job. I just don't want it to be at the cost of those other, more important things. If I have to choose, I'd rather have my career be in the background to faith and family.

I'd rather it just be business as usual.

Out of Darkness

Today at work I found 50 dollars.

There it was, right on the floor by the office chairs and barstools. A ten wrapped in two twenties. No one around.

But of course, I was working.

I picked it up, and with a little thought, hunted down my manager within the store. I told her about it, they locked it up and told me that I'd get to keep it if no one claimed it within 30 days.

A little later in the day, I ran into the service desk lady, who told me that someone had come by right after I had dropped it off, not even knowing we had a lost and found, just to pick up an item on hold. While she was getting her item, she lamented aloud that she had lost some money earlier.

Of course, it was hers. The service desk lady told me that the customer told her she was "grateful" and glad that I found it.

50 dollars, each one returned to their rightful owner.

This story is pretty unremarkable. Everyone would do the right thing in that situation, right? Not to mention, I was at work. There's an added responsibility to me to keep an ethical code when I'm on the clock.

But...50 dollars is a chunk of change. 50 dollars is half of my week's wages. 50 dollars means I could skip a whole shift and not see the effect on my wallet. I came into work to cover for someone else's call-in the other night, causing me to have to stay up til 3 to finish my homework, and I didn't even make half of 50 dollars by doing so.

The point is, when you're in college, working hourly and facing debt and a bad market, 50 dollars is a lot of money.

I am not trying to make myself seem like a really good person here. It was the right thing to do, and I think basically everyone would have done the right thing in that position.

But what if I didn't always have to do the right thing? What if those years of Sunday School hadn't stuck with me? What if my parents hadn't held me to such a high standard?

Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.

The whole situation just seemed like an metaphor to me. What were my pros and cons for that situation? If I pocket the money I get 50 dollars. If I turn it in I get the satisfaction of having done the right thing.

If I go out and get drunk I get fun and friends and to forget about my problems. If I decline I get the satisfaction of having done the right thing.

If I have sex I get immense physical and emotional pleasure. If I don't I get the satisfaction of having done the right thing.

So when do you get to trade in the satisfaction for prizes?

As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God.

It seems to me that keeping the 50 is just like those things. I've certainly had my chances to do them. I've certainly been tempted to do them. Nearly everyone around me does them to great success and little consequence.

And it's all anyone talks about here. How drunk they got, who they slept with or wanted to sleep with or who wanted to sleep with them.

And I play along. Anytime something like that comes up, I coyly twist my words so that it seems like I share in the experiences, when in reality I don't and haven't. What am I doing?!

I want to fit in. I want to go to a party, play beer pong, get drunk, meet a girl and take her upstairs. I want to keep someone else's 50 dollars that I found while working. And it's as easy as just doing it. But I don't do it because I know that I shouldn't. That it would be a slap in the face to all the people who loved me enough to raise me and teach me in God's Word. A slap in the face to God.

And yet I weasel out of being bold about my desire to do what is right. I get marginalized for doing what is right, people look down on me and tell me that I'm young, I should live it up, I'm too uptight.

For it is God's will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men.

One of my biggest problems in recent years has been my lack of confidence. At times I am passive, submissive, obedient. That's not what girls look for in guys. They prefer trouble-makers, rebels, aggressive guys. I want to find a girl, so sometimes I think about how I can become less submissive and more of a trouble-maker. Less passive and more aggressive. Less obedient and more rebellious.

But why? It's so stupid! Are any of those things ultimately good qualities? When I'm at the gates after I die, am I going to proudly announce to God that he had ought to let me in because I made trouble and rebelled with my time on Earth? It sounds lame, but if it's not desirable in the eyes of God, then why should it be desirable in the eyes of anyone? And, on that note, why does that even sound lame? It shouldn't. It isn't.

Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every authority instituted among men...Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as servants of God. Show proper respect to everyone: Love the brotherhood of believers, fear God, honor the king.

When I've discussed my views on the Wisconsin environment with friends who don't go here, I've usually said that there are two options - you can join in the sex and drinking with everyone else, or you can sit at home and complain about it.

I've tried desperately to do neither, but I often find myself falling into the latter category. Surely there must be a third option. Surely there is something better than joining in or complaining.

Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind. Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.

This semester, I've been participating in a small group Bible study with a handful of people from the chapel. I was torn on going in the beginning, and it admittedly started off a little bit slow, but ultimately it has been incredible. We're studying the book of 1 Peter in a very in-depth manner, and I can't say enough about it. 1 Peter is such a good book of the Bible.

As a background, 1 Peter was a letter written to Christians who were being persecuted for their faith as an encouragement to be holy and live for God even in times of suffering. It's so relevant and worthwhile for anyone whose life isn't perfect. So, it's relevant for anyone.

I would hardly consider alienation and temptation to count as suffering compared to getting killed for one's faith, but the same messages hold true - be holy and live for God.

So does living for God count as that third option from defiant sinning or complaining about it? I guess it does. I don't know how one can put "live for God" on the calendar for Friday night, but I do know that living for God doesn't entail defiant sin or idle complaint. I have yet to figure out what it means for me exactly, but if I'm not doing everything in my power to exercise that third option, my days are wasteful.

I'd really recommend reading through 1 Peter. It has given me so much perspective as I face the inner conflict of every Christian. Every italicized passage I've had in this post has been from 1 Peter and there were so many that I could have included but left out. I must have read through it 2 or 3 times tonight in bits and pieces, just because I'm so intrigued, because I have so many questions and because it has so many answers.

I have been doing a pretty good job of going to church while in college. I say my prayers every night and through the day, but over the past 2 years or so I've really been hiding from my Bible. Thank God I couldn't hide forever.

And the God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.

The Proverbial Sunrise

I will be the first to admit that I have been well behind the curve for many of life's defining moments.

I didn't get my license until senior year of high school, I didn't start dating until college and I've still never been drunk.

However, today I have knocked off one of those things that everyone has done except me. I have finally pulled an all-nighter.

Well, I guess I haven't yet, but I am deep in the throes of one. I have only been awake 22 straight hours as of right now, but my classes don't end until 4:30, at which point I will have been awake 30 straight. Because I am obligated, assignment-wise, to go to both the first and last classes of my day.

And I'm feelin' ok right now. I originally had planned to go for a few hours of sleep, but at about 3:30 AM, still feeling productive with a lot still on the docket, I decided to call audible and go for the whole ball of yarn. The assist for the night goes to one of those huge cans of Starbucks Slurry. It's called an "Energy Coffee Drink" which admittedly makes me shudder a bit, but it didn't taste as bad as your standard Monster/Red Bull and kept me lively all night. I suppose I have finally turned to the dark side of coffee, although on the other hand I'm not sure if that stuff even counts as coffee. Either way, it's not something of which I wish to make a habit.

All told, it was really only a matter of time before I had to pull the ol' 24-in-a-row. College (especially Madison) is a lot of work, and I've gotten lucky on due date overlapping for the most part thus far, so eventually the luck had to run out.

And today was a veritable perfect storm. My to-do list contained an online quiz for Marketing, a 4 page paper, an unrelated speech, and 85 pages of reading in Journalism and 100 pages of reading about which I must lead a discussion today for Lit. Separately, not too big of a deal for any of those, but together it made for quite the Tuesday night.

Did I procrastinate somewhat? Yes. However, do you procrastinate somewhat? Yes. I'm just trying to make the best of it at the moment. Someday I will learn my lesson, potentially today if and when I hit the wall in a few hours during class. I still must give a speech today. Oh man.

I had a bunch of things to say concerning the journalism assignment itself, but that will have to wait. My efforts now must go into being able to stay awake for the next few classes.

With glowing hearts

You know, when the Winter Olympics start, I always make a point to myself how much less interesting they are than the Summer Olympics. The Summer Olympics, after all, have so many delightful fringe sports like badminton and sailing...how could the far smaller competition schedule of the Winter Olympics even compete?

However, for whatever reason, I have been watching this year's Winter Olympics religiously. I've never taken the time to watch any other Olympics this much, although I do admit I've kinda kept it to two sports: hockey and curling.

Hockey is a kind of a no-brainer for me to watch. It was the first sport I ever got into when I was very little, and I'm really starting to follow and appreciate it more and more. I think any fan of soccer can appreciate hockey and vice versa. There are a lot of tactical similarities and the low scoring is definitely an acquired taste. But I'll stand by it. The euphoria from one soccer/hockey goal is completely unmatched by most touchdowns, home runs and...three pointers?

I confess that the appeal of basketball is really starting to be lost on me. Sorry Badgers. I'll probably get back into it during march madness.

Heck, right now the reason I'm up this late for blogging is that I'm watching the Czech Republic take on Slovakia in hockey. The west-coastery of Vancouver makes for some pretty late live hockey, but this has been quite a good game. Not to mention the added storyline of former countrymen. It's like if the South had won and the Confederacy was playing the Union. Czechoslovakia didn't break up all that long ago.

But the Czechs are taking it right now, 3-1. Surely it is due to Jaromir Jagr, who at 38 years old is still sorta the man. He was the best in the league when I was little. It's hard to cheer against the Czechs when they have the nostalgia points. Of course the USA is my first choice though.

The other sport, curling, is more of a surprise. Yes, a lot of people watch curling ironically, because it is admittedly pretty funny that such a non-physically demanding competition can be considered an olympic sport. However, the strategy is actually pretty interesting once you give it a chance. It's like a weird oversized game of chess on ice.

The thing that draws me to it is the makeup of the teams. The American team (which actually ended up being pretty terrible this year) is from Duluth, Minnesota, and it's made up of 4 regular joes who curl and drink beer together with their free nights. That's it. It's basically a glorified suburban bowling team, competing for medals on international TV.

And that's really appealing to me. I think it would be really fun to take up curling with some friends. I know that Madison has a curling club with leagues and tournaments, and I envision it basically being like a tighter-knit version of a bowling league. Sure, we'd be competing, but the idea is to go out with the guys and just hang out, shoot the bull. All the while rolling a stone down a sheet of ice and sweeping in front of it. We could wear flannel, and have a cigar outside afterward. It just strikes me as a great northwoods man-bonding experience.

I think I'll make my way over to the Madison Curling Club some time and figure out how feasible it is to pick up curling as a hobby. So thanks, Winter Olympics. Every time you come around, I doubt you. But you find a way to set me straight. You're a cool customer, Vancouver.

It's not too late!

I am entirely incapable of accomplishing anything worthwhile once classes are done on Friday. It probably would have been good to send some resumes out today, but I had classes and a meeting and I need to write like 5 cover letters. Boo. I need to acquire some consistent motivation.

The resumes I need to send are as a result of last night's UW career fair, which was a chance for me to return to my ambitious, career-minded, tie-wearing self that I had more or less abandoned during last summer. Last summer I went from juggling corporate interviews to begging for hourly work, and the tease of the whole thing ended up being pretty demoralizing. It wasn't something I even wanted to think about until recently, and now I'm getting right back into resume mode. I'm one year older, have more experience, and go to a Big Ten school. The chance is there now.

I'm still up against it though. While I'm sure there were other people my age at the career fair, nearly everyone I encountered was graduating a lot sooner than I am. Heck, for one of my more promising leads from the fair I stood and waited behind a guy with a marketing degree and 5 years of post-college experience.

I would argue that I looked better in a sweatervest though.

When I consider my disappointment last year at not getting ultra-impressive work, it almost seems delusional. In such a tight job market, who in Madison would want to hire some 18 year old kid from the University of South Florida? But the search started off with so much promise. The part of spring break I was most excited for was a job interview on one of my first days back in Wisconsin. That interview went pretty well, but I ended up turning them down because I had two other interviews that I was more excited about. One of those interviews was my only one with the company (I was competing with college graduates), but the other one led to another interview, which they were willing to postpone until I came home from school.

The feeling was pretty good. I had made myself marketable enough to appeal to an established company from far away. My hopes were so high when I came in for the second interview, which I figured was to seal the deal. With my finest (only) suit and some tips from the parents, I had what I thought was a really good interview. The HR rep even started off by describing the job, payment, and schedule. Then the interview. Then she told me that they had filled the position and they might be interested for the fall.

Hey, thanks for bringing me in, though.

It must have been HR training week or something. It was good interview experience, I guess, but man. The feeling was deflating.

And the rest is history. I didn't get so much as a second glance from then (early May) until late July. I would have understood if no interest had ever come my way, but to be in demand early on and then have all leads go completely cold was brutal.

It was probably good for me, though. At USF, with the grades and the test scores and the scholarship perks, I was able to convince myself pretty well that I was hot stuff. The early job search success confirmed that to me, but God finds a way to bring you down a peg if you get a little too high on yourself.

And that humbling has been ongoing for a little while. Thanks to working long hours and relapsing into my diffident self (something that I had avoided for a few years), I've been the definition of a wallflower at UW.

But I've been feeling good, getting back into the groove of things. This week has seemed like a rebound from the crummy end of last year. I got to throw on a tie and a vest and promote myself as a potential employee and it felt good. I had to write a big 'ol paper for the base class of my new major and it felt good. I had a meeting with a sales subcommittee of the student org I just joined and it felt good. Feels good, man.

This is going to sound weird but...at certain points of my life, my left eyelid will twitch periodically throughout the day. I only remember it happening twice before - in the weeks leading up to high school graduation, and the first couple of weeks in Tampa. Those were both times of incredible excitement and anticipation. The months after the twitching, in both cases, were phenomenal.

Well, my left eyelid is twitching again. I noticed it at the start of this week. Now, either I'm just enjoying everything more because I feel like I should be (what a strange response to an involuntary twitch!), or the tic is a delightful little indicator. Either way, though, I'm feeling positive. There are still a lot of things I could be happier with, but I'm on my way.

I'm heading out tonight. The job search is beginning. School is going well. I've got a place to live next year. Watch out, Madison. I'm comin' back.

Keep it steady now

4 times flying out of Tampa since starting school there, 4 times blogging about it in the airport.

My weekend to visit old friends and my old city has come to a close. In a word, it was phenomenal.

I concocted the idea to visit Tampa one cold fall night in my UW dorm room. I don't remember the exact circumstances, but I was sitting alone in there, feeling bummed about something (who knows what, it could have been anything last semester), so I thought to myself, "why not visit my old friends in Tampa?" I found some pretty good deals online for my trip on a whim, and was all set to go on my own. I presented the idea to my parents sometime that weekend, and the prices were good enough that they suggested that the whole family go there for vacation in January.

This saved me the 150 or so dollar cost that I would have incurred flying down there on my own dime, so the idea was fairly appealing to me. I love when daydreams become reality.

I have made no secret about my continuing love for the city of Tampa. The weather is great, the bay is beautiful, the people are friendly and the girls are pretty (and not repulsed by me). During my first semester at UW, I frequently questioned my decision to return home from USF. I was actually turning a profit by going to school, getting awesome grades, living in a city I loved with a great climate. and, for part of it, dating. The reasons I came home are still in place, but those other intangibles have clearly gotten worse. UW-Madison is not cheap. My UW GPA is terrible. Madison is cold as hell...isn't, and the single college girls are, on the whole, less interesting and more superficial.

But I mean, UW's a better school? And that's ultimately what matters, I guess. I still have to convince myself that it's worth it, but I keep trying.

So fast forward however many weeks ago that this idea was born, and here I am giving the recap post.

Our trip began on Thursday the 7th with an afternoon Milwaukee to Tampa flight. We didn't do much outside of travel that day, but we did get dinner at one of my favorite Tampa restaurants. That was a theme for the trip. We ate so much and so well, it will practically take another semester of inconsistent college eating to lose the extra weight gained from all the amazing southern cooking. Oh man.

Friday was the first chance to see any friends. After switching rooms due to ants (Weird.), my parents took Evan and I to the apartment of John and Cameron. John was a high school friend of Maggie's, but I hung out with him much more than Maggie did as the school year wore on. He met his girlfriend Cameron during while Maggie and I were dating and they've now got a nice place together. They're both about 4-5 years older than I am, but I loved hanging out with them while I was at USF.

This was Evan's first time meeting them and they seemed to hit it off pretty well. I caught up with them, they served us chicken-fried steak and potatoes (I am a fan) for dinner and we went bowling. Eventually they took us back to the hotel and there ended friday's festivities.

Saturday was an absolute BLAST. After a lunch at Chick-fil-A (which might be my favorite fast food meal, and something that I had to introduce to Evan on this trip), my parents dropped Evan and I off at USF's campus. It still feels like home, ya know.

At campus I got to see Kelli and Jenna, who are both RAs now and one of my old roommates, Drew. They're all still high-quality folks.

We had made designs to go to a women's basketball game (which is something I had only done once while attending USF, but no other sports had home games that weekend) that night, so we met up with John and Cameron who took us from campus to James' apartment.

James was one of my 3 roommates and was probably the one I spent the most time with. I liked all of my roommates but James and I had sports fandom in common. He, John and I established a soccer fan culture at USF that I hope continues once we leave, and the three of us were always sure to never miss a USF football game, screaming in the stands at home or screaming at John's TV away. And after Maggie and I broke up, smoking cigars behind the dorm with James did something to keep me sane.

The funny thing about that last part is that Maggie and James are dating now. I'm a fan of this, as they're both good people and it's that much easier to stay in touch with each of them if they're dating. I can't help but chuckle a bit at it though. Don't read anything into that, it just...strikes me I guess.

Maggie was over at James' place when we got there, so Evan got to meet her for the first time. Pleasantries were exchanged and they grilled some pregame burgers. It was good to see Maggie again, and nice to see her more as an old friend and not as much as an ex-girlfriend.

After dinner we went to the game. My old USF ID (which also got us 10% discounts at a few restaurants on the trip) got me into the game for free, and Evan got in free as a guest of the group of us students. Free sporting events for students is a sweet deal.

Because a lot of the student body hadn't returned to campus yet (classes started monday), and because USF students are less than enthusiastic about basketball (both women's and men's), there was hardly anyone there. As a result, we basically got to control the cheers of the student section.

John pretty much already does his share of cheer management at most USF sporting events, considering he was recently distinguished for having attended the most sporting events of ANY student last semester, which, if continued through the rest of the year, will be rewarded with on-field passes to our game against the Florida Gators next year. Which would be incredible.

As we watched our team get disassembled by #25-ranked Georgetown pretty much right out of the gate, we got to at least have fun with the cheering. We stood in the front row of the student section and it was pretty clear that whatever we yelled would be heard by everyone on the court. It's hilarious to get reactions to the things you yelled from D-1 athletes during a televised game.

Evan and I were even able to bring back some of our cheers from Lakeside days, like "ole!" after 3-pointers and the progression of "We want a basket!" into things that kind of rhyme with it, like "Paper or plastic!" and "Monks are monastic!" However, unlike Lakeside, the other USF fans appreciated the off-the-wall cheering. You'd be amazed the at the dirty looks that you could get from supporting your team in high school. I guess we disrupted their texting or something.

We got on TV and the arena screen quite a few times too. The game was only televised in the state of Florida, but we could see from the press monitor that the camera was relying on us for crowd shots. Celebrity USF fans, I tell ya, and Evan never even went to school there.

Sometime early in the game, an arena promotions guy was milling around, looking for people to participate in one of those halftime on-court entertainment games. My aforementioned friend Kelli suggested that Evan and I volunteer, and we got picked to do it. Basically, the game we did on the court consisted of us starting at half-court, taking a layup, and racing back to half-court with the slowest person getting eliminated. The prize was a 25-dollar iTunes giftcard (and adulation, of course).

Given that Evan and I were 2 of the 4 people chosen for the game, odds of a Samanas victory were pretty good. Evan and I made our first two rounds of layups with ease and the other two players were cut, leaving it to an all-Samanas final round (which is pretty legit, because we can just share the music). During the final round, the Bulls mascot did me a solid by harassing Evan's path to the basket, and I came away the victor of the night. Talk about sibling rivalry coming to a boil. I was originally just worried about not tripping or airballing a layup (is that possible?).

Oh, and I caught a shirt too. I just have to get as much free stuff from USF as possible, I guess.

Evan and I made further fools of ourselves by loudly complimenting the shoes of one of the dance team members (the joke is that they all have the same shoes, see), which led to her cracking up during the routine. We added her on Facebook then, obviously.

The game ended heavily in the favor of the visiting Hoyas and we eventually bid everyone goodbye. Back to the hotel, and there ended Saturday.

Sunday was spent mostly with the family. We went to service at Northdale, the WELS church I attended weekly while I was living in Tampa. It was really good to see everyone from the church who helped me with the transition, including the family who gave me a ride to church and Bible study every Sunday. Being held accountable for going to church every week was really key for me in my first year away from home.

After church we drove the half-hour across the bay to St. Petersburg for grouper sandwiches at The Hurricane, something that we have done almost every time we've visited the area. You can't turn down fresh Florida seafood when all you can get in Wisconsin is frozen cod.

When we got back to the hotel we settled in to watch the Packers playoff game. I'm too disappointed to say much more about that one. I still love ya, Aaron Rodgers.

Once we had dinner, we were too exhausted to do a whole lot more. We watched a little TV and I fell asleep hours before I usually do.

And here we are, Monday, the last day of the trip. We did a little shopping by the airport (5 dollars for a new official Buccaneers hat? Deal!) and prepared to take off. Which is where I started this post. In the obviously completely sweet Tampa airport.

Like one of the previous "Bruised" posts, I've actually written most of this in the plane. The 893 from Tampa to Milwaukee remains a great flight. On the plane, we got to watch the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico right before we reached the Florida Panhandle. Breathtaking! I won't gush about it as much as I have in past posts, but it's absolutely gorgeous.

So that's where I am now. We'll probably be landing within the next half hour, and I'll have a week or so to shake off the renewed wanderlust for Tampa Bay before I start up again at UW.

My livelihood is in Madison, my family is in Lake Mills, and sometimes my heart is in Tampa. In time I'll figure out the balance of the three.

Light in the dark as I search for the resolution - 2010

Relationships
1. Finish the year proud of the relationship decisions I've made.
In the past year and a half, I've over-analyzed, acted before thinking, convinced myself of things I didn't believe, given up, and just about everything in between. This isn't particularly different from last year's, but with new wording comes new progress?

Experiences
2. Take a new pineapple picture
Some would call the pineapple/'myspace mirror shot' profile picture iconic. I mean, actually probably not, but I always felt like it captured me a bit better than any other picture could. I don't really look like I did as a sophomore in high school (or even close for that matter), so it could use an update.

3. Attend an NHL game
I've been to games in the NFL, MLB, NBA, MLS and several NASCAR races (in addition to 3 international soccer matches and lots of college football, basketball, hockey, and soccer), but despite being a pretty big fan of the EXTREMELY underrated National Hockey League (primarily the Tampa Bay Lightning) I've never been to a pro game. Obviously a lot of this would be chalked up to there not being a pro hockey team in Wisconsin, but that's a pretty bad excuse since I lived in an NHL market for a year. I'd like my first NHL experience to be a Lightning game, but I think I'd enjoy it either way.

(I like sports way too much for my own good. Being a Sportscenter anchor is like my dream job.)

4. Watch the DVD of "Hotel Rwanda" that I own
Because I got it for free at Target. It's probably a good movie, I'd imagine.

5. Drive in a state that I haven't driven in before.
Therefore, any state that isn't Wisconsin, Minnesota, Illinois, Florida or Georgia. Road trip implications! OR just a stupid day trip to Iowa and back.

6. Celebrate Stabby the Green Pepper Day
And hopefully get others to celebrate what is obviously a great holiday.

Personal Improvement/Achievement
7. Get a legitimate summer internship with a legitimate company.
Hopefully I'm in a much better position to get a respectable summer internship than I was last year. The biggest thing, though, is that even if I don't get the kind of resume-improving job that I want, I at least have a pretty solid job with the ol' Targs that I really wouldn't mind working all summer.

8. Play soccer competitively
I'm on the books with a local club team, but I've already had to turn down an invite to their first winter tune-up league. I'm hoping I can get to playing some tuneups with some of the guys on the team before hopefully joining up in time for the full 11v11 spring outdoor league. Intramurals eat your heart out, this is mildly legit!

How is this a resolution, you ask, if I'm already on the team? Well, the reason I haven't been able to play yet is that I've been way too busy with other stuff. Hopefully I'll have a better outlook next semester with improved classes and a diminished work schedule.

9. Do something creative on a large(r than usual) scale
Well this is generic. I do a fair amount of creative things throughout the year, but I'd like to create something for the sake of creating something. Record a new song, make a short film, write a book. None of that stuff is particularly productive, but it's refreshing. I'm not trying to write the great American novel or something, but it's an escape that I've been mostly keeping myself from.

10. Serve the Chapel in a capacity that I have not yet served
I'm a fan of the Chapel but I haven't been able to spend much time there in my first semester at Madison. I've lent a hand here and there but I'd like to get a lot more involved, whether that means being a housefellow or not.

11. Go Running
This doesn't even have to be regularly, I just haven't made an attempt at it in some time. I have a feeling that with a little training I'd be a whole lot better at it by now than I ever had been before.

12. Swear less
Ok, for serious this time.

13. Pay off my sophomore year student loans
It would be great to be just about caught up. Getting the first year free was a huge blessing.

14. Accomplish at least half of my New Year's Resolutions
Because last year's last resolution was a stretch.

While I'm wide awake

Here is the original for those types who turn on the director's commentary while watching DVDs.

Relationships

1. Make wise relationship decisions this year
Well, my relationship decisions for this year were as follows:

Winter and Spring in Tampa: I took myself completely off the market as I transitioned from a short but whirlwind relationship.

Summer at home: I burned a bridge and spent months trying to prevent myself from rebuilding it while busying myself with work and friends.

Fall and Winter in Madison: The bridge was rebuilt. And I was too exhausted and jaded from school and work to figure myself out enough to become someone worth dating.

So were my decisions wise or unwise? I guess it's a shade of gray. But it isn't exactly progress, is it? If I'm keeping myself accountable with these resolutions (which is the point), then I can't possibly give myself credit for this one.

2. Spend no more than a month in "No Man's Land"
A month? I don't know if I could say that I spent a day in No Man's Land this year. Which has its positives and negatives, really. All told an improvement though, I'd say.

3. Find myself a good MLC marriage track girl
I only spent a couple days this year visiting MLC, and I definitely did not spend those days actively searching for a wife. That's ok. This resolution is facetious, but I still maintain that I'm almost infinitely more likely to find someone there that I'm on the same page with than I am at UW.

Experiences

4. Half-facetious resolution that was lost on the cutting room floor.
Wasn't accomplished, wasn't attempted, wasn't serious, and didn't belong in the "Relationships" section before. Ha.

5. Go to at least one MLS game
(September 26)
I went to my first MLS game with my roommate and his girlfriend, as we watched Chicago tie Toronto 2-2 in a thriller. We had such a good time that we went down twice more (for playoff games), even appearing on Sportsillustrated.com as a result. Jordan and Heidi got season tickets for next year and I'm sure I'll join them for a number of those games. It's a passion now. Go Fire!

6. Go Clubbing
Regretfully, no. I think it's regretfully, at least. I do think that it would be an interesting experience.

7. Actually go to the beach.
(February 21)
I did, on several occasions. They were some of the many pleasant memories I have of my second semester at USF. I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone in a week.

8. Remember to celebrate Stabby the Green Pepper Day
(April 10)
And to great fanfare! This will probably be a resolution next year too, after which it will just annually become second nature.

Personal Improvement/Achievement

9. Finish with a cumulative 3.9 GPA at USF
(~May 2)
A surprise 4.0 for the second semester ensured that I ended my time at South Florida with a 3.93 GPA. Good thing, too, because I could only dream of doing that well at Madison. It's a whole different world.

10. Learn to cook passably
I didn't really even attempt to do this. Oops.

11. Find a way to play soccer at least twice a month
(up until October)
I was doing so well with this one, but predictably it got totally derailed by the Wisconsin winter. I even had a fall/winter indoor league lined up, but I was way too busy with work to do much more than entertain that idea. However I played often during the summer and took every advantage of the Florida weather to go outside and kick around. A winless intramural season was tough, but then again I was one of like 3 people on that team that had even played soccer before.

12. Keep the Lord in my life
Although I fret about the other things on this list so much, at least I've still got the most important one.

13. Work and find enjoyment in it
I started working at the ol' Targs in July and it's been way more enjoyable than my first (fast food) job. Sure, it's not always a blast to stock tampons or fold clothes for hours on end, but I have definitely found enjoyment in a lot of it. Particularly when Shallow Blake goes to work.

14. Swear less
What is it about living on campus that makes it so easy to swear? Oh, probably that everyone around you does so constantly. Even so, I'm always careful about who can or can't hear it...mostly it's done in the confines of my dorm room. Knowing that anyone and everyone can see what you do on the internet, I maintain the "Al Michaels Standard of Verbal Decency" while I do my social networking.

15. Get a scholarship
I thought about giving myself this one, considering that I do have a fairly substantial corporate scholarship at the moment. However, I mentioned at the start of the year that I wanted to get a scholarship in addition to that one, which is not something that I accomplished or even tried to do. I guess there were just other pressing needs over the end of the summer.

So I accomplished 7 out of 15. That's just under half...

16. Accomplish at least half of my New Year's Resolutions (8 of 16)
...until now. I'll be back tomorrow.

Well.

I'm not really even sure what to say right now. For the third time in the last 4 years, a relative of mine has passed away during the week of New Year's. This time it was my Grandma Marie, who was technically a step-grandmother (having married my maternal grandfather after his wife passed in the 60s), but was always treated as my Grandma growing up. I don't have much eulogizing to do on here, as I've almost just become kind of numb to the whole situation anymore. I'm more saddened and prayerful for my Grandpa, who despite his own constant health problems now has to face the death of his wife for the second time.

I was in the middle of my New Year's Resolution post, but I mean, that can wait.

I don't know. This time of year and these last six months have really been something.

Digressions

If included every digression I wanted to while blogging, each post would probably be about twice as long, and make about one tenth of the sense. Still, I tend to take mental note of what pops into my mind like those Vh1 music videos of the late 90s (You know...? I'm thinking of something real, right?).

Here are just a few I encountered, vaguely categorized.

Concerning Pokemon and the phenomenon of PPPDecember
- Any time a fad gets too popular on Facebook, I see it as my opportunity, nay my DUTY to be a smartass about it (I get it from my parents, I think). However, I'm not that opposed to Pokemon Profile Pic December, as I have fond memories of Pokemon just like everyone else. Even so, I couldn't just join in. Therefore, my roommate and I agreed to start with "Obscure and Worthless Pokemon Trainer Card December" and work our way toward a pretty amusing coordinated profile picture war later this month. Way to go me for way over-analyzing facebook fads.

- I enjoy the amateur psychoanalysis based on what pokemon one selects as their profile picture. Don't pretend it doesn't happen.

- Perhaps it's due to my upbringing as a conservative Lutheran, but I refuse to warm up the idea of any pokemon beyond #151. Even Mew is kind of a stretch... I stopped paying attention to the series well before they released the, like, 500 more pokemon or whatever that there are today. I never saw what was wrong with the 150 we had.

- If you don't pick Squirtle out of the 3 choices at Professor Oak's laboratory, you are probably a terrorist.

- If I were to play by the rules and pick a pokemon profile picture, I would probably go with Tangela. A bundle of vines with huge eyes in tennis shoes? How did Pikachu get to be face of the series over you?!

Concerning Pandora
- Pandora is something I held off using for quite a while, but I have definitely started to see the benefits the more I use it.

- What if there was a Pandora for dating? You just enter in a person that you like a lot of the qualities of, and it shows you several similar options based on your preferences. I'll bet someone has made a youtube video about this or something.

- I make a lot of jokes about liking pop music, but I like it way too much for my own good. The 3 stations I rotated between tonight are probably pretty embarrassing.

- One of them was "Live your Life" by T.I. featuring Rihanna. I won't say the other two, but I'm willing to put myself out there over that song. I don't care, I really like it, you guys. It's one of about 3 rap songs I will defend my like of to the grave. The other two have already gotten mentions in blogs this year.

- The more normal Lady Gaga's music and image gets, the more I like it. Which of course means that there is an awful lot of Lady Gaga that I hate.

- At least I still listen to old Relient K?

Concerning Snow, Career Opportunities, Friendliness, and the use of the term "Sweetheart"
- I'm actually pretty sure I want to move back to Tampa after I graduate from UW-Madison. There are a lot of things about the city that I am in love with, and I just thrive a bit more in the friendly, laid-back atmosphere of the south.

- But we'll see. I've been pretty sure about a lot of things.

After my 5th blogiversary post, here's my 109th total. Epic.

I've always been kind of opposed to the overuse of the term"epic," but if Al Michaels can say it during Sunday Night Football, I can too. This is also how I justify the phrase "What the hell?"

On the way out of my last economics lecture, I overheard a girl saying to someone else, "Well, then, you should blog about it!"

So I guess I will then.

I owe my general readership a more detailed explanation for the appendix and emergency surgery references sprinkled around my internet doings. I guess I'll just jump right into it...

It all started on Wednesday night, not long after my post "And We'll Say Hello" (because I'm sure everyone reading this can picture which post that is based on the title...). UW systemers would remember this as the snow day, which I was fairly lukewarm about considering that I only missed one class as a result and still had to work my 7-to-midnight shift at the ol' Targs. Regardless, I was still pretty cheery at the thought of a snow day and the night got better when I and most of my coworkers were sent home from work at 9:30 because pretty much no one braved the roads to shop.

In usual circumstances, my roommate Jordan and I go get dinner around 11 PM or later, because we both work late shifts pretty consistently. However, that night, due to the roads, all the university food places were closed early. We were both pretty hungry so we started entertaining the idea of calling for a pizza. The standard digestive anticipation (I don't really know what phrase to use for it, but I think everyone more or less knows that feeling right?) I felt in my stomach was increasing as we weighed our options of all the local delivery places.

Within a couple minutes of researching, that feeling had grown to actually be pretty uncomfortable. Eventually it didn't feel as much like hunger, but more like nausea or indigestion. At about 10:15 or so I decided I wasn't interested in ordering anything anymore, and I ate an apple and went to bed with the intention of sleeping off the increasing stomach pain.

10:30, of course, is a ridiculously early bedtime for most college students, especially for one that regularly works past midnight. I just felt that miserable. It didn't get any better, as the pain continued to increase as I tossed and turned until about 2:15 AM.

My first inkling in discomfort or sickness is to assume the very worst. However, since I know this is kind of a weakness, my actual course of action is to pretend that nothing is wrong whatsoever and try to tough it out. Since I've got that mental override pretty firmly planted in my distress gameplan, it can take quite a bit for me to overcome that and actually try to fix something that is wrong with me.

The abdominal pain, while at that point being the worst I could ever recall (I couldn't even stand up straight at its worst), would not have been enough to seek help on its own. But the chills...

I was absolutely frigid cold. It must have been a sight to see. I was laying in bed, bundled up in a comforter, sweatpants, two pairs of socks, 3 layers ending with my warmest sweatshirt, and a hat and gloves, and I was still shivering my teeth off. My roommate was in the same room writing a paper at this point in an undershirt and gym shorts...

I got out of bed and took my temperature to see if I might have a fever to go with the chills, assuming at this point that I might just have a new stomach flu virus. My suspicions were laughed at when the thermometer read "95.9".

95.9?!

Assuming that the thermometer was broken (but not really ruling anything out at this point), I took my temperature again. 96.1. Wow.

Doing what anyone who grew up on the internet would do next, I hopped on my laptop and WebMD'd the possible causes of an abnormally low temperature. After ruling out hypothermia (Why is that even on webMD? Do people really need an online diagnosis after getting pulled out of freezing lakes?), I determined that the body's reaction to an infection was roughly the only sane explanation for the ice cold temps.

At this, I vetoed my fear of being a hypochondriac (would that be hyperchondria?) and called my dad. Thankfully, he's usually up at 2:30 AM - I wasn't going to hedge my bet on university health services, given that most other university services were undermanned due to the snow.

After debating all of our options over the phone, he finally offered to come into town and bring me home, in hopes that I could get a doctor's appointment the next morning. Jordan stayed up until my dad got there in case anything happened (what a good roommate...seriously, I'm so grateful for that), and he got there at about 4. I made it home by 5 AM and passed out under quilts as the exhaustion finally overruled the pain.

In hindsight, I probably should have taken some painkillers. Huh.

I woke up after about 4 hours of sleep feeling quite a bit better. It didn't hurt too much at all and I was beginning to think that the whole thing might have just been some nightmare false alarm. I had a doctor's appointment anyway though, so I figured I'd go just for the sake of going. I drove myself to the doctor's office and after a short consult, my doctor basically said "The low temperature's a bit concerning, so we'll send you to the hospital for some lab work and a CT scan just to make sure it's not appendicitis. It probably isn't though."

The doctors in Lake Mills are notorious for ordering completely unnecessary tests for the sake of caution, so I was pretty skeptical. For instance, they've made it a habit of diagnosing everyone in my family with "heart murmurs" and ordering echocardigrams - which always end with the tech at the hospital wondering why an echo was ordered in the first place.

I figured I'd drive to the hospital (in my beloved Watertown), humor myself with the tests to justify all the class I missed, and head home after a false alarm.

I had the blood taken, I had an IV put in, and I had my CT scan. The tech running the scan started to take the IV out after the scan was over, and a nurse said "shouldn't we leave that in just in case he needs surgery?"

The tech replied, "Nah, I don't think we'll have to worry about that."

(Spoiler alert: Thanks a heap, pal)

At that point I was pretty certain I was fine. Obviously I didn't look like someone dealing with appendicitis and I didn't really feel like one either. I sat in the lobby, opened a Time magazine, and awaited my clearance to go home.

I might add now that my doctor told me that he wanted them to call him with the results so that he could tell me himself. The waiting area receptionist summoned me to an office near the reception desk and told me to pick up the handset.

I expected, "Hey Blake, this is Dr. Basarich. You're good to go."

I got, "Hey Blake, this is Dr. Basarich. You do have appendicitis, and we've already scheduled your surgery. They'll tell you what to do when you hang up."

Hooooooooooly frick.

I got a chance to call both of my parents (both of which were at least an hour away at work) and tell them about it, and then I was led into my surgery waiting room. I was for the most part still pretty calm at this point, although I was really just trying not to think about it. The anesthesiologist started some preliminary stuff as I sat in the operating bed, and then she just sat in there and talked with me for a while. For that I am forever grateful. It was about an hour before my mom got there, and I was rolled to the operating room about 5 minutes after she arrived...therefore, if not for the friendly anesthesiologist, it would have more or less been me and my thoughts (with a break for a new iv drip installation on my hand. Hey, thanks again, CT scan tech) for an hour leading up to emergency surgery.

I should send her a Christmas card, or something. She was incredibly reassuring in an otherwise fairly scary and lonesome situation.

I really wasn't all that scared for the most part. I did a lot of praying, and I kept reminding myself that this is an incredibly routine surgery that they probably do all the time. I never considered myself to be all that much in danger, but still, there were the nagging doubts.

"I'm going under, there's always a little danger with that."

"What if this is the time the routine surgery goes wrong?"

"They are cutting into my abdomen. Whoa. Hold on a second. I've had mouth surgery, but this..."

"This is emergency surgery...EMERGENCY. surgery."

Soon enough, though, I was in the O.R.

Soon enough, I was out of it.

I don't know how long the surgery took, but it's not like I would have noticed either way. I woke up completely drugged out, groggy, and in a fair amount of pain, but also thankful to be awake. The recovery from there was slow...I wasn't able to get out of bed for several hours after that, and I just about collapsed walking the 5 feet to the bathroom. All while hooked up to the IV. Blegh. No one said it would be pleasant.

My mom was with me the whole time, and Evan and my Dad came to visit for a few hours that night. I got a few calls from relatives (i.e. the Monkle) but for the most part I wasn't out spreading the news.

I watched some college hoops, #6 Syracuse vs. #11 Florida in Tampa (...sigh), and got as much sleep as is possible with abdominal wounds and nurses coming in constantly to check your vitals. The next morning I had a little bit of breakfast (I made it 23 hours without eating anything. Which isn't quite a day, but is still longer than I've ever gone without sleep) and chilled in the hospital until my 5 PM discharge. Wheelchair on the way out and everything...rollin' like a big shot.

Hospital stays aren't great, but they are what they are...the tough part is the restrictive period afterwards. It's been five and a half days since my surgery and only tonight have I eaten my first full unrestricted meal. Walking to class is tough. Shoot, walking up stairs has been tough. I'm not allowed to pick up anything of any weight for some time now, and since my job involves lifting, I have a surgeon's note saying I can't go back to Targs until January 2nd. One one hand, that sounds like a bit much to me; but on the other hand, stocking stuff all day in my current 'old man' physical state would probably be pretty disastrous.

So now I'm back at school just in time for finals (I don't have one til Thursday, so yes, I can afford to blog tonight) which have barely been of worry to me compared to my physical state.

Finals are kinda strange this semester. This semester on aggregate has been so ridiculously terrible compared to any other I've ever had that I'm probably just going to call mulligan on it and start going for that other major I wrote about on the night of the appendix attack.

I'm not sure how strongly I'm going to be able to finish this semester, but part of me feels like I have a few pretty reasonable excuses if I don't. Well, there's never a reasonable excuse to not try your best, but if ever there was a semester to just close out and forget about, it would be this one. Calculus, 20 hour work weeks, 7 school days in the last month lost to bouts of swine and appendicitis...yeah, I'm ready for a change. Maybe next semester I can actually have time for a social life, enjoy what I'm learning, and feel like I'm working toward something I actually want to do after college. A boy can dream...

So there's my appendectomy. I definitely went more in depth than I thought I would, but I've gone a whole semester with only quantitative assignments - I'm kind of yearning to write now and then. For that reason, I keep wanting to write more and more blogs (3 in one week's time is already a ridiculous pace. That probably hasn't happened here in years), but I'll hold myself back for a little while until after finals. After that, I'm going to be blogging at least twice more regardless of motivation - I've got resolution recap '09 and 2010 resolution making to take care of.

Until then, I've got some tests to take. After that, it's sweatervests, Tampa, and bowl games for a whole month. I cannot wait.

Five Alive

Delicious, yet unrelated

After five years, Flight 109 is still alive and kicking...more or less at least. I've blogged semi-regularly recently, just in time for the sudden resurgence of blogging I've noticed lately.

Generally anniversary posts are reflective in nature, or at least have a fair amount of substance to them. However, given the exceptional circumstances which engulf my present situation, I'm going to leave this post as more of a memorial marker than a contemplation.

I'll probably have a reasonable post about said circumstances ready within the next few days, but for now I'm resting on my laurels. After all, this is my first time ever making a blog post without an appendix, so I'm understandably exhausted. Blog stamina is stored in the appendix, see.

So I'll just say this: thanks to everyone who has followed this humble little journal, whether it's just been for a few posts or if you can remember reading this in 2004. Thank you to anyone who has commented on a blog post, either online or in person - you have no idea how nice of a feeling that is. And thank you God, for blessing me in countless ways over the last five years which are chronicled here.

War and Peace Out.

And we'll say hello

Snnnnnnnnnnnnow Day!

The University of Wisconsin-Madison is notorious for its complete unwillingness to call a snow day (like, once in the last 20 years), but for whatever reason last night's blizzard was ridiculous enough to lead to cancelled classes. Having driven in it (and having to drive in it again tonight to go to work), I can say that it is pretty bad out there but I don't think this would qualify as one of the two worst snow storms in Madison of my lifetime. Ol' Chancellor Biddy must just be the charitable type when it comes to missing school.

I didn't get out of all that much today. Today was one-class Wednesday and I still have to go to work tonight, but at least I got to sleep in, eh? Plus I suppose there's just the added excitement of learning about it the night before. It makes you feel like a kid again. I got to enjoy hearing it from some of Evan's roommates, who are all characters. It's always a good time over there when everyone is together and last night wasn't an exception. Even though the power went out for 2 hours and it was freezing in there.

We've entered the last full week of classes, and boy will I be glad to be done with this semester. This semester's workload has been fairly insane and I'm looking forward to a jam-packed winter break...3 Christmas parties (with new sweatervestery to be purchased!), a Tampa weekend, a tentative MLC trip, and maybe a Badger hockey game sprinkled in here and there. I can't believe there used to be entire weeks where I had nothing going on...

I'm so excited for break because I'm so sick of school. The class load this semester has been enough to get me to consider a few different paths in college. I'm no longer a lock to be majoring in marketing. I still want to be doing the same type of thing as a career as before, but I think I might prefer another way to get there. The alternate major I'm considering is "Journalism-Strategic Communications" which admittedly sounds a bit more convoluted than marketing, but is described simply as a "blend of the studies of Advertising and Public Relations." That's more or less what I wanted out of Marketing, so I'm going to take the entry-level course for that major next semester to determine if it is a better fit for me than Marketing.

I still fail to fully understand what the best fit for me is, but that's a big part of your first few years of college, right? My qualms with marketing were that I have no interest or skill whatsoever in accounting, finance, management, or really any business-school factor that would be included in 'Marketing' but excluded from Strat Comm. However, the rhetoric and presentation of advertising is what got me fascinated by marketing in the first place. I have a hunch that I would thrive considerably more by building up that side of my interest than trying to force myself into a path I'm not as sure of.

So I haven't switched majors yet, but I'm taking next semester to decide. I built next semester's classes specifically to knock out required gen ed credits and keep both Journalism and Business doors open. This next semester is a big one.

I thought I had it all figured out by now...but I still kind of do. I know roughly what I want to do when I'm done with school. I'm just at a fork in the road - where both roads probably lead to more or less the same place anyway.

I'm hoping that maybe the whole "have everything figured out at age 18" thing is more my own mental creation than the reality.

Although, I'm gonna be 19 soon. Better get on it. Everyone knows THAT's the age where you need to have everything figured out.

See ya again in 3 days.

INFP

I generally don't put a lot (read: any) credence into personal assessment tests that can be taken online. However, since the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator predates the internet by decades, I suppose it can be taken a little more seriously than "Which Twilight Vampire named Edward are you?" and the like. Most people have heard of it, and I'd say quite a few people I know have taken it as well. It doesn't serve all that concrete of a purpose, but I took it a year or two back and it amazes me to this day how accurate it is as a personality analysis. I suppose if everyone broadcasted their Myers-Briggs results, we'd all have a better idea of how to deal with each other socially, or at least get an idea about how what we do affects those around us.

When I took my assessment (I don't actually remember where it was, but it was free, online, and took a good 30-45 minutes at least), I got the result of INFP, which is apparently "The Idealist." There's a website that has really detailed explanations of what all the results mean, and for the heck of it, I'm going to post what my result said.

The Idealist

As an INFP, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit into your personal value system. Your secondary mode is external, where you take things in primarily via your intuition.

INFPs, more than other iNtuitive Feeling types, are focused on making the world a better place for people. Their primary goal is to find out their meaning in life. What is their purpose? How can they best serve humanity in their lives? They are idealists and perfectionists, who drive themselves hard in their quest for achieving the goals they have identified for themselves

INFPs are highly intuitive about people. They rely heavily on their intuitions to guide them, and use their discoveries to constantly search for value in life. They are on a continuous mission to find the truth and meaning underlying things. Every encounter and every piece of knowledge gained gets sifted through the INFP's value system, and is evaluated to see if it has any potential to help the INFP define or refine their own path in life. The goal at the end of the path is always the same - the INFP is driven to help people and make the world a better place.

Generally thoughtful and considerate, INFPs are good listeners and put people at ease. Although they may be reserved in expressing emotion, they have a very deep well of caring and are genuinely interested in understanding people. This sincerity is sensed by others, making the INFP a valued friend and confidante. An INFP can be quite warm with people he or she knows well.

INFPs do not like conflict, and go to great lengths to avoid it. If they must face it, they will always approach it from the perspective of their feelings. In conflict situations, INFPs place little importance on who is right and who is wrong. They focus on the way that the conflict makes them feel, and indeed don't really care whether or not they're right. They don't want to feel badly. This trait sometimes makes them appear irrational and illogical in conflict situations. On the other hand, INFPs make very good mediators, and are typically good at solving other people's conflicts, because they intuitively understand people's perspectives and feelings, and genuinely want to help them.

INFPs are flexible and laid-back, until one of their values is violated. In the face of their value system being threatened, INFPs can become aggressive defenders, fighting passionately for their cause. When an INFP has adopted a project or job which they're interested in, it usually becomes a "cause" for them. Although they are not detail-oriented individuals, they will cover every possible detail with determination and vigor when working for their "cause".

When it comes to the mundane details of life maintenance, INFPs are typically completely unaware of such things. They might go for long periods without noticing a stain on the carpet, but carefully and meticulously brush a speck of dust off of their project booklet.

INFPs do not like to deal with hard facts and logic. Their focus on their feelings and the Human Condition makes it difficult for them to deal with impersonal judgment. They don't understand or believe in the validity of impersonal judgment, which makes them naturally rather ineffective at using it. Most INFPs will avoid impersonal analysis, although some have developed this ability and are able to be quite logical. Under stress, it's not uncommon for INFPs to mis-use hard logic in the heat of anger, throwing out fact after (often inaccurate) fact in an emotional outburst.

INFPs have very high standards and are perfectionists. Consequently, they are usually hard on themselves, and don't give themselves enough credit. INFPs may have problems working on a project in a group, because their standards are likely to be higher than other members' of the group. In group situations, they may have a "control" problem. The INFP needs to work on balancing their high ideals with the requirements of every day living. Without resolving this conflict, they will never be happy with themselves, and they may become confused and paralyzed about what to do with their lives.

INFPs are usually talented writers. They may be awkard and uncomfortable with expressing themselves verbally, but have a wonderful ability to define and express what they're feeling on paper. INFPs also appear frequently in social service professions, such as counselling or teaching. They are at their best in situations where they're working towards the public good, and in which they don't need to use hard logic.

INFPs who function in their well-developed sides can accomplish great and wonderful things, which they will rarely give themselves credit for. Some of the great, humanistic catalysts in the world have been INFPs.

Every paragraph of that I read, I shake my head and think how accurate it is. I suppose that's probably the case for anyone that takes one of these, but for some reason it's really fascinating to read your own. I think we as humans love when people tell us what we already know about ourselves. Reading this, I just want to tell the website that it really gets me.

But it's only a website of course. I simply find it nice that someone put so eloquently into words my answer to the conversation piece of "tell me about yourself".

Baby, you'll be famous

Now I know what it's like to live for the weekend.

College life has become a bit of a grind. I still have the occasional leisure time to myself for unproductive things (like blogging), but the homework and the job are ultimately pretty pervasive to the point that little Xbox breaks and such just seem like distractions and procrastinations. All told, it's all right, I'm accomplishing a fair amount - but I really only enjoy myself when I specifically set time aside to do something that I want to do. It's about the mindset, I think. It has to be something to look forward to, and something about which I've told myself, "yes, I am taking up valuable productivity time, but I will get joy from this! Learn to accept joy!"

So I'm trying to set aside more of these times. Perhaps that's the wrong approach, and I should start being able to find joy from everything...but to do that, I have to shut off the worrying part of my brain - and I can only do that a few hours a week.

So what kind of things DO I do with worry-free time?

The most exciting for me has been Chicago Fire games. Well, technically I've only gone to one of them, but my crew and I ("my crew" is used loosely here...it's more of a random smorgasbord of 5 people) are heading down November 7th to watch Chicago take on the New England Revolution in the playoffs. The first Chicago Fire game I went to was late September of this year and I'm hooked. My love of Major League Soccer (and all things soccer, really) is well documented, so it was probably only natural that I'd love going to games. I'd go as far as to say that my first Fire game was among the 3 best days of this year (behind only my two US National team games this summer). Plus I achieved one of my New Year's resolutions by finally going to a game, and I am totally still working to accomplish those.

Something else I'm about to start doing is going to Badger Hockey games. Evan and I got season tickets this year because our dad used to take us to games at least once a month for several years while we were growing up. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of excitedly hopping in the car with dad and going to hockey games...I started going when I was 4 or 5, I think. We'd get to our seats, get hot dogs and share one of those huge stadium sodas (always a diet coke...probably why to this day I like diet coke unlike every other male I know) and watch Badger greats like Brian Rafalski and Badger not-so-great-but-still-a-cool-guys like Jake Soper.

The reminiscing was enough for Evan and I to buy season hockey tickets, although because of work I can only go to the Friday games, and even then something tends to get in the way - so I haven't been to a game yet this year. I'll probably go this Friday, although Evan probably cannot go and I'll be forced to look for someone to go with and take his ticket. So hey, anyone want to go to a hockey game Friday night? or want to buy Saturday night tickets, ever?

(The sales pitch seems irrelevant when few people read your blog).

And one of these weekends (perhaps the weekend before Thanksgiving?) I'm planning on taking off of work and heading up to MLC. I of course have a lot of friends up there (many of whom I haven't spoken to much lately, due to mutual busyness and distance) and I always love a good weekend trip to anywhere. My last trip to MLC was a lot of fun, but there were several variables involved that could be improved on for the next trip. I always enjoy trips there either way, because the kindly folk at MLC are such a breath of fresh air compared to the prototypes I run into all the time at UW (or ran into, in the case of USF).

Golly gee, I sure would love going to school there, I just don't want to be a teacher. Funny how some of my friends have the opposite sentiment. Maybe I'd eventually feel the same if I actually did go there.

But if I went to MLC, I'd be able to get that nice, family-minded WELS girl from the plan...instead of the near-vacuum of female interaction that comes with my tight schedule. But that can always change...and that's a topic for another post. Get to bed, Blake. You have an exam tomorrow.

You just might find...you get what you need

Last night I got in a conversation about plans. More specifically, I was asked what my backup plan for my major would be if I for some reason didn't get into the business school here.

Without much thought, I rattled off my non-business school backups to marketing: economics, mass communication, journalism, sociology. I have thought about this before. And there is no indication that I should have any trouble getting into the business school.

This is because I plan. Too much.

One walks a fine line when mapping out the future. I know a lot of people claim to plan too much, but for every overanalyst there's a former high school party animal managing an Arby's. I prefer to err on the safe side.

All in all, it's a reasonable way to live. Having goals and backup plans just mean that you're always prepared. But it can get you into trouble.

Even though I always have a backup plan, I can get my heart set on an ideal goal. this, of course, is stupid because nothing works ideally. But boy will I work to make it happen.

And this is where I'm stuck. College to me is one elaborate connecting flight between being a kid and "following my plan". I feel like I need to have everything figured out by now...which is well and good as motivation, but puts a lot of pressure on my actions.

For instance...I don't drink because I set my mind on being morally sound and not drinking til 21. I work all the time because I need good references and experience on my resume. My key factor for transferring to Wisconsin was to seal a better chance at getting into Northwestern for grad school. So that I can get the good, steady, limitless potential job in Chicago. So that I can get on my feet and attract a nice family-minded WELS girl. So that I can work and save like a madman to get a decent house in the far northern suburbs of Chicago. So that I can raise my kids in a safe suburban environment, take them to Fire games, and send them to Shoreland Lutheran (where they'll play soccer of course!). So that they can be good, responsible, morally sound kids just like their dad tried to be. So that the Mrs. and I can retire down to Palm Harbor, Florida and join a country club with our retirement savings. So that I can show off pictures of my grandkids to my old man golf friends.

Aaaaaaand, what are the odds of that all happening?

Yet, every B I get on an assignment, every screw-up at work feels like another dent in the plan.

But it's a dent in a ridiculous plan. I can basically guarantee that 20 years from now this plan won't look a thing like what I ended up doing. It probably will look far-fetched 2 years from now for that matter. Yet I struggle to convince myself not to tie myself to my plans.

The key here is trust. My faith in God is fine overall, but my trust in his plan is constantly lacking. I feel the need to blueprint out my entire life, even when he certainly has something much better in store for me than what my restless young adult mind churns out. It just takes a lot for me to trust that.

Parts of my plan collapse all the time, so that's why I come up with backups. But the backups are just as likely to collapse as well. But that's fine. That means I'll live out a life that was picked out by someone better at planning than myself.

Which is encouraging.