not better, just different

Some people are raised to be selfish. Others raised to be selfless. Some are made to be givers and others to be takers. When I say that they are "raised" that way I only mean that their environment is one that stresses such actions. We, as able-minded people, always have a choice of our actions and personality. Certainly it is hard to break the ways we are taught since our youth, but to say that we are a product of our environment is a sad compromise. 

We are a product of our constant falterings, our successes, our life-changing experiences, our relationships, and our chosen environment. 

We are given an environment when we are born. That environment is more like a coloring book than an instruction manual. We see the outline of what could be. We can choose to color inside the lines and follow a predetermined course of action or we can mix the colors, go outside the lines, and make our own picture. When life gives you a bad environment it isn't saying you have to fail, it is simply saying your path to success might look different than everyone else's.

I'll never take anyone seriously who says that another person had a tough home life. 

From the amount of times I have heard that excuse you'd think that nobody had a happy childhood. It's an excuse tossed around just because someone had a different home life than others. The key word there, if the italics didn't give it away, is different. Nobody has the perfect home life. To some degree or another we've all had a "rough home life". 

Just because my family sins differently than someone else's doesn't mean my life has been any easier. 

Whenever someone says "rough home life" I think of my dad. I think of a thirteen year old kid living in a house with three older sibling and two younger ones. I think of those six kids living in a house with no parents. You wanna compare home lives? My dad and his brothers and sisters raised themselves for an extended period of time. That means packing school lunches and watching out for each other. Couple that with an alcoholic dad and a mom who just remarried another alcoholic. Really a storybook life isn't it? 

My dad never complains about where he came from because honestly, I don't think he'd have it any other way. Has my dad made mistakes? Hell yes. Was my dad ever a product of his environment? Hell no. 

He was a product of his decisions. He's a kid from Mount Washington who never went to college. He was an Army Ranger who travelled the world. He was a manager of a construction company. He was a heavy drinker. Now, he's sober and he works hard 5 or 6 days a week to keep a roof over my family and to keep me in school so that maybe my life can be different than his. Not better but different. 

NP: Wild World- Cat Stevens

ceiling can't hold us

What an eventful night.

In a spur of the moment decision yesterday morning I decided to join some of my friends for IUPatties day.

I haven't done anything like that before. I'm not usually the most spontaneous person. I usually prefer to have my days and nights mapped out ahead of time. Yesterday wasn't planned out at all.

I'm still learning things every single day. That's a sign that it's all going to be okay.

I'm doing a little soul searching today. Not in the sense of feeling like I've lost myself, but maybe more in the sense of finding myself. I guess that's a bit contradictory. Can you find something if it isn't lost in the first place? I think you can.

People are always looking for things that they never had.

Yesterday started off with me looking for a Chapstick I never had... That damn Chapstick. It's humorous looking back at how yesterday's events played out.

A ton of stuff happened in about 12 hours.

1. I accidentally stole a Chapstick.
2. I had some Sheetz food.
3. I heard some really loud knocks.
4. I saw a pyramid get destroyed and thrown away.
5. I chose the easy way out.
6. I dropped my wallet on the ground
7. I found out that apparently Cliff is from the airport.
8. I remembered how good my aim is with a snowball.
9. I fell asleep on a couch.
10. I fell off of aforementioned couch.
11. I continually called a dog by the wrong name.
12. I found out a certain someone has a Dairy Queen cake diet.
13. I lost a pair of socks but my shoes never came off.
14. I ate an Arby's sandwich.
15. I ended my night with some sprints.
(I also rocked a wicked cool Nike visor the entire time.)

That probably won't mean anything to most of you, but it doesn't really matter because to a select few it will mean everything.

NP: Love Sosa- Chief Keef

parents

It really is true that momma knows best. My mom is no exception to that. She is truly one of the smartest women I've ever met. That statement itself is probably an understatement. She is the smartest. She isn't one of those women who needs a Dr. before her name to show you how smart she is. My mom doesn't even have a master's degree. I'll bet you this though. I bet my mom knows a hell of a lot more about books and literature than 99% of moms (and dads for that matter). I have never seen my mom in a conversation where she was in over her head. (You know what I mean? A conversation where someone really doesn't know what they're talking about and they just kind of nod their head.) Well my mom has never been that person. She always has something to contribute. Even if it's just a tidbit that she read somewhere.

That woman can put away books.

Hell, I feel like I've done something special if I finish three books over the summer. My mom? She reads at least 10 or 15 I'd say. That's pretty spectacular if you ask me. Plus she does laundry, cooks, cleans, and builds puzzles! She's no slacker and I can say I've learned a lot from her.

When I said my mom was the smartest woman I've met I wasn't really giving her the credit she deserves. She's not just brains or book smart, she's life smart. I'm talking WISE.

She always knows what to say and that's a talent very few people possess.

My mom has said on more than one occasion that she sometimes wishes she would have pursued something else, something like law school. I think she did it right. Not that I don't think she could handle law school. She could. And my mom would've made a hell of a lawyer, I promise you that. But she's a hell of a teacher. I can't say I wish she would've done anything else because how could I be sure I'd even be here? If she went to law school would she have met my dad? Would I even be lucky enough to call her mom? Crazy thing to think about actually, never being born.

I love my mom.

My dad is a totally different creature. Smart in more ways than one, crazy in more ways than you can think of. My dad never went to college. School wasn't for him. You know what was? Making a name for himself. He did that by working at a very successful construction company. My dad is really good with numbers and he was a hell of a manager.

Helping manage a company doesn't teach you the main things I look to my dad for though My dad is versatile and gritty. If my dad had to do something unthinkable to help our family, I'm certain he would. And I'm certain he would do it well. He is a handy son of a bitch and the funniest guy I know. He taught me how to make yourself better by laughing at yourself. He taught me that if you can't be yourself in every situation you are doing something wrong. My dad never puts on a front. He is 100% himself. And basically, if you have a problem with that, you can go to hell.

My dad taught me something else. Something he didn't have to ever say. Something he might not realize he did.

He showed me that just because you're down doesn't mean you're out. No matter how down you are there is always a shot at redemption.

That's huge.

Obviously, I love my dad.

My mom had a text that was spot on today. Made me laugh, made me smile, and made me shake my head because I knew, once again, she was right. She always is.

I talk to my best friends every single day. Today is no exception. Every day. That's how it is.

NP: Flowers In Your Hair- The Lumineers

question for you all

So today the blog already has 143 views from last night's post. That's close to double the amount who have regularly been reading each time I post.

That makes me wonder...

So I'll leave it up to you guys. Is it a coincidence? Is it care? Is it people expecting a spectacular blog in the wake of a major change? Or is it, and I hope it isn't, a bunch of cynics trying to read into the mind of a proverbial fallen hero? 

You can answer that quietly to yourself. 

Have a great day everybody. A little bit of snow won't hurt you.

NP: Carry On- Fun.

let's see how far we've come

So where do I start? Not really an eventful day. Well, I mean, not many events. No more than usual. If we aren't measuring eventfulness in number of events and rather magnitude, then, well, today was extremely eventful. 

I'll spare you the nitty gritty. 

What matters isn't what happens to us, but what we are inspired to do because of it. 

It is nice to see how many people reach out when they think you need it. Thanks guys. 

I just wish I knew what to say to capture your attention. I could talk about time, about perspective, about love, or about being okay. I'm just not sure that I'm all that equipped to do so. 

What I know about time: Time is infinite, but the time we have is very finite. So much so that we don't know how much we have. Time heals all things and time also changes all things. (In varying degrees at least.) Time is constant, it just doesn't seem that way. Also, there is always time to reflect, but never time to regret. You can even reflect on bad memories so long as you don't regret them. Time is unpredictable. 

What I know about love: It's out there. There's a lot of it. It's really good. It can hurt really bad. If you don't give it a fighting chance then fighting for it doesn't make much sense. Love can be one-sided. It can be two-sided. Hell, in some crazy cases it can have three or more sides. Love is one of those things you have to believe in even when you don't see it. It's there and you have to believe it. You should fight for what you love. Love is crazy and like time, ever-changing. Love will make you miss out on certain things, but you miss out knowing that what you love was worth it. Love is unpredictable. 

What I know about perspective: Life is all about it. Love, time, and being okay all change depending on your perspective. Taking different perspectives helps you see things you couldn't before. 

What I know about it all being okay: It will all be okay. It'll take time, it'll take love, and it might even take perspective, but it will be okay. 

i.e.) Today was a beautiful day and nothing can change that. The sun must've read the blog and decided to give me something to smile about. 

NP: Jesus Walks- Kanye West

bamboozled

My head hurts. I can't focus on this calc practice quiz. Law and Order SVU is on. I'm ready for a break from it all. 

I started five different blogs and ended up deleting all of them. I had a lot to say and no way to say it. 

Wanna know what I'm ready for more than break? A little sunshine. Not the fleeting glimpses I get of it on a cloudy day. I want those sunny days where all worry is cast aside. The days where you think nothing can go wrong even after something has. I'm tired of all this gray in my life. 

I want a reason to smile every single day. 

I have some reasons, but the sunlight would be nice. 

Have I told you guys how much I miss baseball?

It's pretty damn bad. I hope I get the chance to play some ball this summer. There really isn't anything like the sweat you get during a baseball game on a blistering summer day. Nothing like running down a fly-ball to make the third out of the inning. Nothing like the rush and uncertainty of stealing a base. I miss it all. 

Baseball is the most beautiful game in the world. You see, baseball accurately describes us as humans. 

Baseball is a sport where perfection isn't expected. Where perfection, when seen, is almost other worldly. A batter can be a legend if he is successful 4 out of 10 times. A pitcher who wins 3/4 of his games is an ace. The one place you're expected to be close to perfect is in the field. Baseball is a team sport where an individual can shine through. It's also a sport where an individual cannot single-handedly win a game (not most times at least). Baseball in recent years has been marred by performance enhancing drugs. 

PEDs show how we as humans work. The way we are raised. The cultural perception of how things ought to be. We are raised to be perfect, or as close to it as we can manage. Baseball is a game where you simply cannot be perfect. With the exception of a handful of pitchers in a handful of games it isn't possible. There are too many factors. 

I think the biggest rush during a game is stealing a base. It isn't just speed that steals you a base. It has a lot to do with smarts. It takes a strong lead, it takes patience, and it takes vision. You pay attention to the pitcher's idiosyncrasies and you time him up. He'll give you one look, might throw over once or twice, but then he wants to focus on the batter. You can take a couple inches, but you have to be careful no to get too cocky. With a righty you watch his back heel. If he raises his left leg or slide steps you're off. With a lefty you have to cut down your lead. You can't take as much but now you have a decision to make. Are you fast enough to wait to him to approach the plate? Or are you going on first movement? Whatever the situation is once you put your head down there is no going back. Once your head is down anything could happen. A ball in the dirt and most times you are in easy. A curveball gives you an extra split second to get there. It comes down to how smart you are, how fast you are, and how good the catcher's arm is. 

I miss it. 

NP: My Oh My- Macklemore 

piano-side thoughts

Okay so maybe it's a keyboard. Doesn't take away from the fact that Jared is rocking out on it at 3:30 in the morning. It doesn't make much sense, starting to play at 3 a.m. but it does't have to make sense. It's cool with me. My weekend was nice.

Rode the bus home to see Graz yesterday then we came back down to Pitt for a while to hang before he went home. Back to Cinci in the morning for him.

Walking from Pitt to Pap's house showed me where I want to make it to one day. Life on Bayard we will call it. The street just has a feeling of something I can't quite describe. Somewhere between wealth and hard work. Not as shallow as wealth but not any blue collar type of hard work. It is a good feel though. A feeling like you've made it. Like you've done something right.