Fatal Abstraction

No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

I am a smoker. Ugh, just writing that is disgusting and depressing. And when I get depressed, I have a cigarette. So, I’ll be right back.

…

Okay, back.

As I was saying, I am a smoker, and have been for the past 6 years. Wow. Since I turned 18, I have been smoking Marlboro lights. Some days I only will have three and some days I will knock off an entire pack without even thinking. I am not stupid or ignorant, I know that smoking kills, makes me age quicker, stains my teeth, gives me an off-putting smell, and yet still makes me look cool.

Every New Years Eve for the past three years, as part of my resolution list, I run to the local CVS and purchase the 50$ Nicotine patches and savor the taste of my “last ever cigarette” before the clock strikes midnight. Usually by 10:30am New Years Day I am back out on my patio, cigarette in hand, and excuses in progress.

“It’s the best cure for a hangover.”

“I already bought the pack, I might as well finish it”

“It’s not New Years Day in Australia yet.”

I have now started to really realize how much I do not need cigarettes. None of my friends smoke, so it isn’t even a social thrill anymore. I feel that I get judged, by new acquaintances or even people on the street. I don’t want a cigarette to define who I am. It is now turning into a lifestyle change, and not just a habit dropping. If I begin to cut out the things that go so well with a cigarette – coffee, red wine, stress, one night stands – I will be able to quit the habit that much easier.

So, finally, after years of putting it off, I am going to terminate the tabacco. For good, without any gums or patches or pills. And I think that with enough perseverance and determination, I can quit cold turkey.

This is my time. I have to quit. No ifs, ands, or butts.

A Word In Progress

After being completely enveloped in my new favorite book “Eat, Pray, Love” – yes, I tend to follow the crowd when it comes to reading – I decided it would be a good idea to go see the movie the minute I finished the last chapter. And I did.

I don’t know if it’s the complete opposite with how you, my public followers, read books which  you enjoy, but with me, I never want to finish them. I know usually when you are reading a book you cannot put down, you…don’t put it down. I wish I was like that. I would have actually finished the book 2 weeks earlier. But, unfortunately I read one or two chapters in a night, and as soon as it starts getting good, I put it down and find something else to occupy my time. Usually involving macaroni and cheese, porn, and wine. In that order.

Okay, I am getting off track.

A part I took from the movie/book was how they defined cities and themselves by a single word. I left the theater in a constant contemplation as to what my word would actually be. The thesaurus became my best friend that night. Sorry Lindsay.

I thought of every word that not only described me, but overall defined me. I confided in friends to even help put an end to my search. The answers I received were smart, funny, and handsome. While all true, I wanted to stay away from words that just dealt with character and physical traits.   

Two days later, still searching, I discovered five words that I thought explained exactly where I am at in this time of my life. They were skeptical, indecisive, inconclusive, hopeful, and blessed. I thought about if for a while, well, 25 minutes, and wanted to see which direction I could go in with either of the word selections.

Sure, I’m skeptic, but who isn’t? Indecisive, that fits. I can’t even choose a word that defines me. Inconclusive labels my question on what I want to do with my life once I leave Orlando. I am hopeful that whatever decision I ultimately make, will be the correct one (there goes that skepticism again). And blessed. I pause at blessed.

I can sit here and talk about being scared about the future for days. Because I am. But I do not know what is in store for me in the next month, or even year. I can only discuss the past, because that is what I know. And what I know is that I have been blessed with such an amazing family and group of friends who I could not live without. We do everything imaginable together. Whether it be laughing, dancing, drinking, or talking.  But most importantly, we eat, pray, and love.

Is there a sole meaning of ‘Soul Mates’?

Everyone uses the phrase “soul mate” so loosely these days and usually it is being referred to the person that they are dating at the time. I (ahem) have this…friend, who thinks that every person they date is their soul mate. I, I mean my friend, has probably had about 10-15 soul mates just this past year.

What makes someone a soul mate? Does it indeed only have a sole, individual meaning? Does it only apply to relationships? Can it apply to friendships? Extended family, perhaps? I used to think a soul mate was someone who got you. Someone who understood everything there was about you, and you with them. If you were a puzzle, this other person would be that last piece that fit perfectly into you to portray a beautiful picture.

I think nowadays we believe so heavily in soul mates that we force the meaning onto every relationship we have. “Omg, we shop at the same grocery store – soul mates. We have the same auto insurance – soul mates. We order the same value meal at Wendy’s – soul mates.” These characteristics are so broad and ubiquitous. I am sure that there are more than 2 people in this world that order the double cheeseburger value meal with no pickles and a sprite to drink. If you are someone that orders this exact meal, and is reading this right now, email me!

But what really got me thinking about the term soul mates was a chapter in this book I am reading. The author states that she has this friend, and she asked him what his idea of a soul mate was, and his answer really stuck out for me. So much, that it completely changed my current view of the term. He said:

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.  But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it.”

From now on I am not going to look to every person I date as a soul mate, or try to label the “perfect person who also drives a silver car” as my soul mate. My soul mate will be the sole person who comes into my life and changes me. Opens me up to a new life with new experiences, and shows me a different way of living, for the better. And then, all of sudden will just leave. No tears and no regrets. I look forward to meeting this “soul mate” of mine so I can learn and grow into a much better person.

Living in a Technology World

I know that the 80’s were about living in a material world, and in the 90’s were about living in a chia pet’s world, but is the millennium about living in a technology world?  I find myself contemplating this very thing on a day to day basis. Going to school learning about all different types of communication, and the importance of having a conversation, it seems that perhaps I am wasting my (and my tax dollars) money. How often does interpersonal (person-to-person) communication really happen? These days, probably never.

Don’t get me wrong. Technology is amazing. Awesome, in fact. I use it every day. Hell, I am using it right now to type this out. The world is immersed in different devices to make communication easier and more efficient. We have the iPhone, which I will stand by as the biggest hindrance in technological advances.  Have you ever tried having a meal with someone who owns an iPhone? It is almost impossible. These people are connected to thousands of people all the time. The phone calls, the texting, the emails, the facebook, the twitter, the myspace (wait, no one uses myspace anymore, right?), the words with friends, the skype, etc. When you have all that, why sit down and talk to someone that is right in front of you?

As mentioned above, I am a big supporter on technology. It helps me keep in close contact with numerous friends and family that I normally would not be able to see on a regular basis. I get to see my nieces school dance pictures through facebook, I can email my high school friends and see what they are up to post-graduation, and I can skype with my mom and dad (if they figure out how to turn on the computer first. We had this issue once. I don’t want to talk about it).

I just wish that technological communication would take a back seat to face-to-face conversations. People do not understand how rude it is to pick up the phone and text while they are in the company of friends. It would be the equivalent to me picking up a magazine or newspaper and reading it in the middle of your important and heartfelt conversation.

So, take this as a lesson to never take for granted the person sitting across from you. Soon, they will be the people deleting you off of facebook and hitting the ignore button when you call. And I in turn will take this as a lesson that we are indeed living in a technology world, and I am a technology boy.  

Used To

I used to think you were different

Someone special and unique

I used to think you cared for me

By the way you kissed my cheek

I used to think you loved me

By the way you made me feel

I used to believe in love

Because with you, it felt so real

I used to believe in happiness

That everything would work out right

I used to just lie in bed

Wanting to hold onto you so tight

But now I feel only nothing

And I wish you only knew

That I go through the same routine

Because that’s what I’m used to.

The Postponed Prelude

I guess I should have written the introduction to my blog before I rambled on and on about clothes, and scrapbooks, and hangers. What can I say, when you feel inspiration, go with it.

So, uh, here it is. My blog. Fatal Abstraction. Pun intended. I don’t know what made me decide to finally get my own blog site up and running. I think I am about 5 years too late. Does anyone do this anymore? Oh well, I am used to being behind the trend. I just found out 3 days ago that Jnco Jeans are a big faux pas. Next they are going to tell me that AirWalks are out dated, and that no one carries around a Tamagotchi anymore.

What will this blog contain? Well, I cant answer that. I am going to try to write about simple, unpretentious, concepts and ideas. Things that my readers (yes, the two of you) can relate to, instead of rambling on and on about the effects of global warming or ‘what I did today’. I don’t think anyone cares about the life I lead. And believe me. You shouldn’t. It is the antithesis of exciting.

I am a student at UCF – graduating this semester. Please, hold your applause. It has taken me 5.5 years. I needed to finish. Van Wilder is not a icon I have looked up to. Neither is Tara Reid, but that is an entirely different blog posting.

I am also a server at “the worlds most fun and exciting dining experience”. No, it is not a Chilis. And it seems that every day I have a bizarre story to tell, either about a crazy customer request or overhearing the absurdity of my co-workers lives.

Most importantly, I am writing this to entertain, so my friends (yes, the two of you) can take a 5 minute breather of the stresses of life and read my ridiculous nonsense that hopefully will bring a smile to your face! Enjoy. 

<insert witty and creative sign off phrase here>

Cleaning Out My Closet

Last Monday I moved into a new apartment, and as I am sure most of you know, moving is a huge hassle. Leaving everything down to the final hour, I rushed through my packing, throwing nearly everything but my tv into trash bags and lugged them down the 5 minute drive to my new residence. It wasn’t until later, when I started unpacking, that I saw how much stuff I really had accumulated over the past three years of living in my old apartment.

Books I have never read, movies I have never watched, and clothes I had yet to wear. I found close to ten shirts that still had their tags on. Now only if I could find the receipts to return them for drinking money….errr….bills.

Since the closet at my new apartment is smaller – much smaller – than my old walk in closet, I decided it would be a great idea to clean it out. Some people have a hard time letting go of people. I have a hard time letting go of clothes.  It seemed that every piece of clothing I picked to get rid of told a great story. I know I must seem like a crazy person, but it’s true. Aren’t there clothes in your closet you can’t let go of because you wore it when something extraordinary happened? (Just nod yes and agree).  

The shoes I wore for a themed Halloween party, the tie I wore at my niece’s kindergarten graduation, the blue button down shirt I wore when I had my first date here in Orlando. All, dumb enough, mean something to me. The shoes are pink and yellow, the tie is ripped, and that blue button down shirt definitely doesn’t fit anymore. They are the equivalent of pictures in a frame.  Each memory on those tacky orange hangers (sale at Target) remind me of all the fun times and experiences I have had, and to get rid of them would just be like having an eternal sunshine of the spotless mind moment – minus the blue hair.

So, to deal with my situation, realizing there wasn’t a sock that could be thrown away, I decided to make an investment and buy a nice, sturdy dresser. Well, an Ikea dresser, anyway. And once I finish putting it together (its been laying in the living room for three days now, half done) I will store my memories in there like a scrap book or photo album, where if I ever need to be reminded of great moments of my past, it is just a drawer away. And for all those new memories to come, well, that’s what credit cards are for.