Journal Entries from 2007

The following are some highlights from my 2007 journal. Some of these are funny, some are insightful, some just represent big moments in my life...i dare you to keep reading.

*note - some of the names have been changed to protect myself.

1/2/07 - 8:52 pm
Am I the only person on earth who sees speeding tickets as a form of punishment from on high? As if God's trying to tell you he's not so okay with something you're doing...? Then again, maybe it's the state of California telling me to slow down.

1/7/07 - 10:01 pm
Some days the loneliness isn't too bad. I can keep my mind and body so busy that I hardly even notice it creeping in around the edges. It hits the hardest at night...usually after some mild disappointment. I feel it climbing up towards me - its suffocating weight threatening to rob me of breath.

1/14/07 - 9:25am - Dorene's Baptism
So I stepped into the luke-warm water, the white polyester jumpsuit clinging to my legs and the air flowing to the top puffing out the chest. Dorene was more nervous than I had ever seen her. Earlier she had insisted that we practice so we would know what she's doing...but as she walked down the steps into the water, any memory of practice fled from her mind and she stood in the water, not quite sure what to do. . . I laid her down into the water - making sure all of her went underneath, then brought her back up. The smile on her face was more reward than I deserved...

1/21/07 - 12:56am
I went on mine and _____'s drive alone. I was in the area and decided to give it a shot. It brought back a lot of memories that I hadn't thought about in quite a while - like the time we helped that Korean priest find his way to another priest's house, the way she used to tell me to slow down when I was driving too fast, the stories we told and secrets we shared...ultimately the love we found that has remained with me like a slow and aching hunger. I couldn't forget her if I tried. Could she be mine? I hope so with my entire capacity to hope.

2/6/07 - 8:25pm
The retreat was pretty typical of a retreat. People talked to people who they never would have talked to under normal circumstances - bedtimes were broken, friendships forged, preconceived notions abandoned...testimonies borne with tearful fervor - all in brave defiance of the inevitable rematch with that "real world" pacing back and forth, waiting patiently at the bottom of the windy road.

2/6/07 - 8:40pm
On a completely unrelated topic, I've begun to wonder whether or not ____ could ever be completely and entirely mine...with her all too frequent mood swings and appearances/disappearances, her general aloofness and seeming inability to commit even to a thirty minute conversation... I wonder whether at this point in her life she's capable of giving herself entirely to another person.
Half the time, I feel almost as if I'm chasing after a shadow or reflection - a mere likeness of something real and tangible. But you can't hold or catch a shadow any more than you can trap wind in a box or bottle up sunshine. You can chase after it and know eternal frustration - or you can bask in its warmth, feel the power of its breath and admire its beauty. But you may never own it.

3/6/07 - 9:40pm
I've filled enough pages with frustrated prose dedicated to ____. She doesn't deserve any more ink. She doesn't deserve any more pages.

4/17/07 - 8:10pm
____ is back in town. She ran off to Utah to find a man and unfortunately she found one. He even asked her to marry him and gave her a ring. It would have been all find and good if he had left it at that...but he had to go and change his mind and break her heart.

Yesterday a 23 year old english student at Virginia Tech killed 32 people and then turned his gun on himself. It's the worst massacre in the history of our country. At this time of questions and mourning, rather than deploring the act and the actor and comforting those left behind to mourn, the pundits and talking heads have already begun spooning out blame like some vile medicine. Before the bodies were cold or even removed from their final resting places, the media had begun blaming the administration - as if they could have somehow forseen this tragedy and prevented it. It was a horrible, terrible act, but it was no-one's fault but that 23 year old english student.

5/6/07 - 2:26am
I'm done. I can't keep things up with _____ any longer. Yes, I know...she's fantastic, intelligent, fun, successful, spiritual, everything i'm looking for and more...but not. I really don't enjoy kissing ____. I always end up with saliva all over my face. She opens her mouth way too wide and often tastes like milk that's been sitting out for too long. And then there's the insecurity...and the nervous laugh...and so many other things that don't make her a bad person, they just make her a bad person for me. I'm tired of finding the wrong people.

5/8/07 -
Last night ____ came online and started talking about Dickens' Great Expectations. She said that she's Estella and I'm Pip...and we're doomed to repeat the same vicious cycle until...? She talked about how neither of us can be truly happy without the other...and wore she wanted me and was ready for things to be different...And I didn't believe her...because tomorrow she'll stop talking to me and fall off the face of the earth for a month.

7/4/07 -
I spent most of today alone. I'm beginning to realize just how much I hate being alone. As if my escapades with the fairer sex weren't enough of an indication...I can't stand being alone. I get extremely lonely...almost to the point of despondency.

7/29/07 -
I finally said goodbye to _____. Well, that is to say I deleted her from my life. I erased her number from my phone, along with all of her texts. I deleted and blocked her from my messenger and erased her from every address book I have...I even deleted her old emails.
This all happened a few weeks back and she's texted a few times and tried to call. I delete the texts and messages, and even the phone call from my call log.
I haven't bothered to tell her. Part of me hopes I won't have to...that she'll just get the hint and disappear...part of me (honestly) wants to hurt her like she hurt me so many times. She really doesn't deserve any explanations. There came a point where I realized that with her in my life, I couldn't move on. As long as she still called every week or messaged me, i was still hooked. Let's face it, the relationship wasn't going anywhere...she just liked having me around...and i'm sick of it. So i'm done.

8/29/07 -
I'm out on my own once again. Monday morning Natalie and I packed all of my worldly possessions into the minivan and drove to Irvine.
I'm sitting in the master bedroom of my first post-college "real" apartment. Of course things might be a bit nicer if I had a bed, or maybe if we had some couches in the living room...but as it is, the living room is a blank canvas and I'm sleeping on an air mattress until my bed shows up sometime next week.
It feels good to be back out on my own. Although it's admittedly strange to "cut the cord" so to speak and leave mom's home cooking behind in favor of cup o' noodles.

9/11/07 -
Six years ago the towers fell. I sat in Joao Caetano's living room in Paranagua, Brazil and watched the smoking buildings - struggling to comprehend the meaning behind the event.
We all walked around in a bit of a stunned daze for the next few days. The world changed during those days - like a great beast suddenly awakened from a long satisfied slumber. At first there was confusion as it cleared its eyes and shook the lingering vestiges of lethargy from a murky head...then came a deeply profound sadness...and finally - the rage that would engulf the world and cause its people to shake and tremble.
I wonder sometimes at the innocence of that missionary - washing clothes by hand in a sink off of a small house. I wonder about the world - as it woke to face the frightening day - not knowing what was to come - unable to imagine such hatred. I wonder if the innocence stolen by those two planes will ever be had again.
I pray to the God of hope that the answer is yes.

9/17/07 -
Have you ever met someone who makes you feel utterly and completely inadequate? Someone who wrestles some treasured piece of your world-view away and neatly disassembles it, exposing its fundamental inadequacies as you look on, horror stricken?
Tonight __________ took my job, something I'm developing a certain amount of pride and satisfaction in - and made it seem like something low and dirty - something despicable...something that no right-minded individual would possibly consider wasting his life on. And the worst part of this whole situation is that she was right.
it all started when she asked about my day. the conversation progressed to numbers as indicators of productivity...and it was as if I showed the bull my red cape - she charged and attacked relentlessly until I no longer had the will to defend myself.
Fundamentally and ideologically, she's absolutely right - Ideally we would find out what fulfills the basic needs of an individual and point them towards that ideal. Ideally that simple recipe would unlock man's hidden potential.
And of course I realize that we live in a real world filled with quotas and measurements of virtually all shapes and sizes. We're constantly evaluated and compared to others. We're taught to meet expectations and win all the races. There are winners and losers, A students and F students...but does all of this foster the best in mankind? Does it play to the best within us or does it play to all that is base and terrestrial?
There are three levels of measuring ones' self:
1. measuring against defined expectations/measuring against others.
2. measuring against your own expectations - independent of anything outside - playing to what we believe is the best within us.
3. measuring against God's expectations - allowing He who is not limited by terms like "possible" or "reasonable" to set the bar. By operating on this level, we do not limit ourselves by mortal understanding - but we allow an omniscient, all-loving being to show us what we are truly capable of - and with his help - we achieve more than we could have ever imagined.
So how do I pull people up from level 1?

10/7/07 -
So I bought a motorcycle. You know how I sometimes get a bit impulsive? Well, on Thursday I got it into my head that I wanted to take a look at some motorcycles, but just look. And now I have a bike.

10/22/07 -
(Sidney Sheraton)
At about 12:30 I was torn from my dreams by a persistent knocking on my door. It took me a while to realize that the knocking wasn't, in fact, part of my dream...so I untangled myself from the sheets and went to the door.
I opened the door to Dad - still groggy from sleep and wearing nothing but his one-piece corban garments...standing in the hallway on the 18th floor of the Sidney Sheraton.
I asked him w hat he was doing out there and he mumbled something semi-coherently about how he wasn't sure, then proceeded to fall into bed and start snoring like a man trying to ward off bears.
The next morning I asked him about the episode. He had thought it was all part of a dream. We both laughed hysterically and later learned that one of the side effects of the Ambien he had taken was sleep-walking.
Needless to say - we'll be locking the door on the boat.

Traveling can be a dangerous thing. I'm not referring to snakes or sleep-walking - but of the seductive nature of the lifestyle. There's something infinitely appealing about living out of a backpack or suitcase and discovering new people, new places and along the way, discovering yourself.
Somehow, somewhere in the past two years I've managed to silence that wild thing inside of me that needs to leave everything behind and discover. But it can be a dangerous thing to wake that part - and here in Australia I can feel him groggily shaking off the vestiges of a long slumber, and beginning to whisper to me of unknown lands - and days without responsibility.

So there it is...if you've made it this far - congratulations. I didn't proof-read any of this so i'm sure there are typos and other worse things that i really shouldn't post in a blog...but that was my year.