Life after college is kind of not that awesome. I think the worst part of life after college is not having the same opportunities to meet people your age. Tonight is saturday and I'm sitting at home writing on my blog because most of my friends are out of town. I say most because I'm pretty sure 2 of my friends have begun dating but didn't tell any of us. I'm on to them.
Anyway as an adult I don't know how to meet other adults who are fun to hang out with. I could just go to a bar, however the bars in my town are all kind of crappy. Also when I do go out with friends I never just see a bunch of young people hanging out there anyway, so I'm convinced that I either 1. go to the wrong places or 2. am the only young person left in the town. It is kind of like the movie "I am Legend" except "I am alone."
This entry sounds kind of emo-ish. I don't mean it to. I am just venting my frustration at the fact that after college I don't know how to make friends. I wish I was 5 years old again. 5 year olds have no trouble making friends.
Keep on rocking in the free world.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
5 Years ago was a Wednesday
5 years ago February 6th was a Monday. It was a cold day. It was a normal day. I was a college sophomore, classes were done for the day and I was just hanging out with my friends. I don't remember what we were doing, probably watching a movie. My cousin's ex-girlfriend came in the room and said, "Scott, Jim (my cousin) is trying to get a hold of you. He wants you to call him." After trying to call Jim and then eventually communicating with him through instant messaging I found out that my Grandma had been rushed to the hospital. I sat alone in my room for awhile talking with my brother and my cousin trying to figure out what was going on. My girlfriend eventually came over to see if I was ok. I wasn't. My Mom called and I found out that my Grandma had nearly died but the hospital stabilized her condition. She had been having health problems but seemed fine now. She had pneumonia.
February 7th was a tuesday. My Mom called me in the morning. My Grandma was doing fine. she was sitting up and talking and seemed ready to make a full recovery. I was glad. I went to class and completely forgot she was in the hospital. I was going to visit her on wednesday. I couldn't go tuesday because I was shaving my head to raise money for Habitat for Humanity in an event called "Hairless for Habitat." I spent Tuesday a happy man. My head was shaved bald all the way down to the skin. my scalp felt alien. February 7th was a cold day but I took no notice. I stayed up very late that night.
February 8th was a Wednesday. I woke up late and had to hurry and shower. I was supposed to go to Chapel at 11 am with some people I worked with and it was 10:30 I would have to hurry in the show. I returned to my dorm room wrapped in my towel I turned the lights on and saw that my phone's red light was blinking. Voice mail. I cradled the phone on my shoulder while I tried to get dressed and listen to the voice mail at the same time. It was my Mom. She didn't say much but it sounded like she was about to cry. All she said was "Scott find Jim." Those three words stopped the world. I could hear my heart beat. I put the phone down and stared at the blank white wall by the phone. The ring of the phone shattered the silence. "Hello" I said.
"Hey it's Jim. We need to go to the hospital. I'll pick you up in 5 minutes on the side of your building."
"Ok." I said. The next thing I remember was standing in the cold waiting for Jim's white truck. The campus was motionless. No one was outside. the cold wind wasn't even blowing. The only sound that could be heard were the big wet snow flakes falling on the ground. The lack of any other noise make their collision with earth deafening. The ride to the hospital was silent. My Grandmother was lying in a bed with a breathing mask on. Everyone was there except my cousin Michelle. She was on the way. No one was really talking. People were trying to talk to her but not saying anything important. My Grandmother is not a stupid woman. She knew that her time was coming, she knew she was dying. Modern Medicine has been able to slow death to an inhumane crawl so that our loved ones can gather in a room and feel emotions that tie their stomachs in knots. Some people choose to speak, others just sit in the room looking helpless. My family was the latter and I was embarrassed for them. My Grandmother looked around at us all there and said to us, "you all should have come yesterday when I was doing better. I'm not doing well today so you should get back to doing whatever you were doing. Come back when I'm better." No one moved. No one said a word. No one took her hand and said they loved her. Everyone just looked from her to their shoes. You would think that a dying loved one would be of greater importance than one's footwear but it was not the case on this day. 5 Years ago I watched everyone as their emotions ate away at their stomachs and their eyes traced the intricate details of their shoes. My shoes were brown.
My Grandma laid in bed awake and sort of talking most of the day. Although the doctor said she was critical she seemed stable. There were not changes in her condition. We ate lunch. It was awkward. It was also Ash Wednesday. Hospitals make lousy fish.
After lunch we returned to the unending nightmare of unspoken feelings. The doctor would come in and look at things. My Grandpa was walking with each of his kids one by one out in the hallway. My Aunt and Parents got in a disagreement about the oxygen mask. My Grandma tried to take it off and the doctor would put it back on. The disagreement was pointless. "Why don't these people just say how they feel?" I thought to myself. The sky was gray and cloudy. The only way to know time was passing was by looking at at clock. The clock slowly marched forward.
At 3 Pm my brother Joe needed to go downstairs to get his allergy shots. If you don't get allergy shots on a regular basis and you need them, it can mess up the dosage. This presents a problem for the patient and the doctors or something so even though today was serious we didn't want to mess up his medical condition. I volunteered to go with him because I couldn't stand being in such a ridiculous room anymore. Before we departed I took my eyes off my shoes. My soul was restless. My Grandmother was dying. The chains of silence broke. I walked freely to my Grandmother's bed side. I looked into her eyes and said, "Grandma, Joe has to get his allergy shots so I'm going to go with him." I paused knowing that other people could hear me, I was nervous and scared but most all vulnerable. "Grandma I love you." I said. I leaned in and hugged her. I kissed her forehead. She reached an arm around me and said, "I love you too kiddo" and then she pushed her oxygen mask against my face and tried to kiss me through it.
That was the last time I ever spoke to my Grandma. Five years ago was February 8th, it was a Wednesday and it was the last time I spoke with my Grandma. I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me. She died later that day.
I have no idea if anyone else had to courage to say goodbye. I don't know if anyone else received an oxygen mask kiss. I don't know if anyone else took their eyes off their shoes. All I know is this... that for 20 years I was able to share my life with an exceptional woman. We used to watch birds out her back window. She was a strong and stubborn woman. She said I was so ornery that I gave her gray hairs. She made the most incredible brownies I have ever eaten. She was the only Grandmother I ever knew and I loved her. 5 years ago my life changed forever. It was a Wednesday, and I spoke to my Grandma for the last time. She said she loved me, and that is how I will remember her.
February 7th was a tuesday. My Mom called me in the morning. My Grandma was doing fine. she was sitting up and talking and seemed ready to make a full recovery. I was glad. I went to class and completely forgot she was in the hospital. I was going to visit her on wednesday. I couldn't go tuesday because I was shaving my head to raise money for Habitat for Humanity in an event called "Hairless for Habitat." I spent Tuesday a happy man. My head was shaved bald all the way down to the skin. my scalp felt alien. February 7th was a cold day but I took no notice. I stayed up very late that night.
February 8th was a Wednesday. I woke up late and had to hurry and shower. I was supposed to go to Chapel at 11 am with some people I worked with and it was 10:30 I would have to hurry in the show. I returned to my dorm room wrapped in my towel I turned the lights on and saw that my phone's red light was blinking. Voice mail. I cradled the phone on my shoulder while I tried to get dressed and listen to the voice mail at the same time. It was my Mom. She didn't say much but it sounded like she was about to cry. All she said was "Scott find Jim." Those three words stopped the world. I could hear my heart beat. I put the phone down and stared at the blank white wall by the phone. The ring of the phone shattered the silence. "Hello" I said.
"Hey it's Jim. We need to go to the hospital. I'll pick you up in 5 minutes on the side of your building."
"Ok." I said. The next thing I remember was standing in the cold waiting for Jim's white truck. The campus was motionless. No one was outside. the cold wind wasn't even blowing. The only sound that could be heard were the big wet snow flakes falling on the ground. The lack of any other noise make their collision with earth deafening. The ride to the hospital was silent. My Grandmother was lying in a bed with a breathing mask on. Everyone was there except my cousin Michelle. She was on the way. No one was really talking. People were trying to talk to her but not saying anything important. My Grandmother is not a stupid woman. She knew that her time was coming, she knew she was dying. Modern Medicine has been able to slow death to an inhumane crawl so that our loved ones can gather in a room and feel emotions that tie their stomachs in knots. Some people choose to speak, others just sit in the room looking helpless. My family was the latter and I was embarrassed for them. My Grandmother looked around at us all there and said to us, "you all should have come yesterday when I was doing better. I'm not doing well today so you should get back to doing whatever you were doing. Come back when I'm better." No one moved. No one said a word. No one took her hand and said they loved her. Everyone just looked from her to their shoes. You would think that a dying loved one would be of greater importance than one's footwear but it was not the case on this day. 5 Years ago I watched everyone as their emotions ate away at their stomachs and their eyes traced the intricate details of their shoes. My shoes were brown.
My Grandma laid in bed awake and sort of talking most of the day. Although the doctor said she was critical she seemed stable. There were not changes in her condition. We ate lunch. It was awkward. It was also Ash Wednesday. Hospitals make lousy fish.
After lunch we returned to the unending nightmare of unspoken feelings. The doctor would come in and look at things. My Grandpa was walking with each of his kids one by one out in the hallway. My Aunt and Parents got in a disagreement about the oxygen mask. My Grandma tried to take it off and the doctor would put it back on. The disagreement was pointless. "Why don't these people just say how they feel?" I thought to myself. The sky was gray and cloudy. The only way to know time was passing was by looking at at clock. The clock slowly marched forward.
At 3 Pm my brother Joe needed to go downstairs to get his allergy shots. If you don't get allergy shots on a regular basis and you need them, it can mess up the dosage. This presents a problem for the patient and the doctors or something so even though today was serious we didn't want to mess up his medical condition. I volunteered to go with him because I couldn't stand being in such a ridiculous room anymore. Before we departed I took my eyes off my shoes. My soul was restless. My Grandmother was dying. The chains of silence broke. I walked freely to my Grandmother's bed side. I looked into her eyes and said, "Grandma, Joe has to get his allergy shots so I'm going to go with him." I paused knowing that other people could hear me, I was nervous and scared but most all vulnerable. "Grandma I love you." I said. I leaned in and hugged her. I kissed her forehead. She reached an arm around me and said, "I love you too kiddo" and then she pushed her oxygen mask against my face and tried to kiss me through it.
That was the last time I ever spoke to my Grandma. Five years ago was February 8th, it was a Wednesday and it was the last time I spoke with my Grandma. I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me. She died later that day.
I have no idea if anyone else had to courage to say goodbye. I don't know if anyone else received an oxygen mask kiss. I don't know if anyone else took their eyes off their shoes. All I know is this... that for 20 years I was able to share my life with an exceptional woman. We used to watch birds out her back window. She was a strong and stubborn woman. She said I was so ornery that I gave her gray hairs. She made the most incredible brownies I have ever eaten. She was the only Grandmother I ever knew and I loved her. 5 years ago my life changed forever. It was a Wednesday, and I spoke to my Grandma for the last time. She said she loved me, and that is how I will remember her.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Thursday, December 10, 2009
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