L-i-v-i-n...g.

So I know I try to poke fun every so often at whatever is on this brain of mine, but I thought it would also be good to give this blog a little more dimension.  I'll keep this one short but it's a lesson in life that I found out to be extremely helpful for one's mental health...what validates you?

This is an excerpt from my personal journal I write in about 2-3 times a week...

"So let me first state: I hate being validated by work.  I hate it so much that this was one of the first stepping stones to understanding the WHOLE picture of life.  If work validates you, then your sense of importance and mission is through work.  If God, family and your relationships validate you then your mission is through your faith and people.  Well, I made a mistake at work today.  Technically I made the mistake a while ago but it just got to me today.  I was forced to put off an installation for some of the guys at a colony.  This is a pretty big deal.  Apparently this is a bigger deal than I originally thought.  When it comes down to it, it was my fault too.  There is legitimate blame to be thrown around to a couple different parties but hell, that’s no good just blaming people.  It was my mistake and I feel pretty awful about it.   Geeze!  But then again…

Life is big.  I feel like I let down some people, but it’s not the end of the world.  I can easily see myself being upset for a while but I’m really trying to look at the big picture and understand 1. where I can fix this for next time and 2. this is just one thing out of a large amount of things going on in life..."

Basically I came to the conclusion that life is too big to be worried about a (relatively) small problem right now.  Obviously you can tell that I feel bad about making this mistake, but as long as a lesson is learned and the mistake has made its effect on how you will go about things next time...there is no need to put yourself through extended misery.  Learn, fix, adapt, grow.

Just some personal knowledge that hit me pretty hard last afternoon.  I hope it helps anyone out who's reading this!  One last request I have is that you check out this article.  My good buddy, Matt Samson, just got a writing gig for Examiner.com under the Festivals section.  Dude was born to write.  Check him out here .  Happy reading!

My mind...mid-flight.

So I usually fly just about every week for my job.  In my previous post I highlighted exactly where I’ve been so far this semester so I won’t repeat myself.  I’ve found that I do a couple of things, unconsciously, to entertain myself before and during the flight that helps time go by faster, or at least takes my mind off whatever 2-5 hour flight I’m on or is ahead of me.

 

I can’t help but think, every time I go through the aisle when I’m boarding the plane, of what it would be like if life all of the sudden turned into an episode of my favorite TV show: Lost.  I think of how we would crash, what people I would befriend and form my “tribe” with and who I would potentially enter a love triangle with.  I think of who would be the elderly yet skillful hunter who used to be wheelchair bound and whether or not I would be killed off the show or make it back to the mainland only to discover that I want/need to get back on the island.  In retrospect this sounds so diluted I can’t believe I just wrote it, but I can’t help but think it!

 

So, for the record, I’m completely against terrorism.  My mind does wander every time I go through security however.  I think I unknowingly snuck a plastic slingshot on once…does that count as a weapon?  I got searched for about 15 minutes in Denver the other week because of the harmonica in my carry-on bag and got through… but couldn’t that be somehow fashioned into a weapon?  What about lighters?  I’ve accidentally gotten through security with those before, as well as a HUGE belt buckle and a watch.  Again, I am anti-terrorism to the core…but does anybody else feel me on this?

 

Just before I started writing this I had my headphones on, listening to my iPod shuffle before we took off.  The flight attendant asked me if the shuffle was playing.  While I read her lips and shook my head, an audacious fib, she asked me another question and pointed to my shoes.  Her flight attendant wit had pierced through my lie.  I go, “Yep, you got me” and took my earphones out.  It was pretty embarrassing to be honest, but she laughed with me and for whatever reason I got a piece of gum out of the guy playing Sudoku sitting next to me.  But…do we really have to turn our iPods off in order to take off?  To land?  Will the wings fall of the plane?  Is there something they’re not debriefing us on in the Safety Instructions Manual?  I travel via plane about every week and in my opinion it helps to have music on in order to take your mind off that, “am I actually going to throw up right now,” feeling every time you take off and land.  Also, about 5 minutes into the air I found out that my phone was still on…does this really matter or is turning off your cell phone a power-move on their part?  I wonder what it actually interferes with.

 

At any rate, that’s all I got for now.  Traveling, man…it’ll build some character.  Comments?  Questions?  Let me know!

The college couch, laughing/eating and The Valley

As I write this I’m about 36,000 feet in the air somewhere above the border of California and Nevada.  I’ve recently come to the conclusion that my life is a complete circus.  In the past three weeks I’ve had Texas BBQ in Wichita Falls, TX, touched the Atlantic Ocean off of Virginia Beach, VA and this past Wednesday I touched the Pacific Ocean off of Malibu, CA where I had some fish at a restaurant on the beach at sunset.  I spent this past week going to rush parties for the colony I work with at Cal State Northridge, spent my days drinking copious amounts of coffee, partied in the Pacific Beach area of San Diego, drove 6 hours to Merced, CA (about an hour north of Fresno) after 3 hours of sleep, drove back down this morning to LAX and now I’ve found myself en route back to Chicago.  I’ll be in Champaign, IL next week, Denver, CO the week after that and then finally College Park, MD where my travels will hopefully ease up.  I’ve woken up a couple times this week and had to remind myself where I’m at; not because I partied too hard the night before, but because I’ve been traveling so much that I legitimately forget what city I’ve woken up in.  Regardless, LA is a ridiculous amount of fun if you know the right people and I’ve had a hell of the time this past week. 

 

Here are couple things that have crossed my mind this week and as of late…

 

While in Pacific Beach this past weekend I slept on a couch in one of my friend’s college-apartment.  I haven’t done this for quite some time, as I mostly find my bed whenever I’m able and willing to, but it put me right back in my college days.  It also gave me a bit of a cold.  I mean, who knows what could have happened on that couch?  You know the kind I’m talking about.  The color has morphed from vibrant to a pastel-Eastery hue.  It could have been passed down through a couple generations of college-friends, donated by a parent or could’ve very well been scooped up on the side of a random street having been tossed out for God knows what reason.  Either way, it was the couch or the floor and I chose the couch.  Really when it comes down to it I shouldn’t be surprised in the least that I got a sniffle or two after sleeping on the thing.  Sleeping on that couch might be the equivalent of licking a public restroom door handle or snorting a line of dust off the floor.  Really!  How dirty was your living room nearing the end of your college career?  Would you willingly make your own college-couch your place of rest for the night?  I’d rather sleep in some kind of body condom or on wet newspapers.

 

I’m not 100% positive, but I think there might roughly be a 1/8 of a peanut stuck in my nose as I write this.  I grabbed a handful of peanuts at afterhours the other night and started laughing before it was completely chewed up, swallowed and yep, I’m as positive as I can be that there’s a small portion of honey roasted peanut lodged somewhere in my nasal cavity.  I’m going to look up on Google how to dislodge this peanut because on top of some major nose-blows, I’m starting to get anxious about it and think it will stay there until I do something about it or eventually choke to death.  Suggestions?  Insight?

 

Friday night I went to a party in Granada Hills, CA which is part of the greater San Fernando Valley, also commonly known as “The Valley,” (thanks Entourage).  For everybody who has no clue what that city’s all about (I’m still trying to figure it out), it’s apparently a pretty wealthy community up in “the hills” that dons it’s cash-flow in the form of beautiful and extravagant houses.  The party was held in the backyard amongst a pool, hot tub, heat lamp, a stonewall waterfall and fire pit complete with a tobacco-filled hookah that I sporadically graced my company with throughout the night.  In no way am I bragging, but it was pretty much everything I thought a party up in “the hills” could be, including a sexy time.  I’ve always been wide-eyed when it comes to “the hills” of southern California because it gets me wondering how there can be that much money all in one place.  After much contemplation I asked the owner of the house (actually his son) what everybody does to support their mortgage payment and he replied with a question of his own, “Don’t you know what the San Fernando Valley is known for?”  After studying his curious yet deviant smile that accompanied the question, I quickly remembered that…notoriously, The Valley is where over 90% of adult flicks are filmed.  Yep, I said it and I was in that hood.  Needless to say, I wasn’t part of any filming during my tenure at the party.  I couldn’t help but think, however, that maybe his curious smile may have meant that his backyard was a showcase for more than the occasional rush party.  However unnecessary it was, I took a shower once I got back to my hotel room and shuddered by myself.

The Mountains, nostril-closing cold and the facebooks

Well it's that time of year again...or is it?  I've never, in my entire life, been exposed to this kind of cold.  In the past three days, I've yet to see anybody's face outside because, according to the weather channel, you can get frostbite if you're exposed long enough.  Hey, that's just awesome mother nature.  Aside from my bitter (no pun intended) distaste of this weather, I've actually had a hell of a winter break.  Let me tell you a bit more...

Colorado, b-boys and a broast...

I went to Colorado for New Years Eve followed by a week of snowboarding with some really great people.  I think this may be hands down the best vacation I've ever had.  We hit some of the big ones out there including Vail, Keystone and Breckenridge.  Mountains by day, a long soak in the tub by dusk ending with a "let's put all of our aches, sniffles and pains away to party" by night.  Aside from every other highlight of the trip, I think my favorite parts may have been a tie between weaving in and out of my buddies on their boards all the way down the mountain and being able to watch a friend of mine fall twice.  Once into a glass door (!) and again in front of a cab due to a copious concoction of booze and cold.  Similiar to the cold we have now, you know the kind you have trouble moving your mouth with after a while?  Actually, it's hard to say what was my favorite because Colorado is amazing in more ways than I can count.  We went to a local bar in downtown Breckenridge and at one point we had a 1990, House Party III dance circle going. All we were missing was Kid 'n' Play and some girl named LaShante.  Did I mention the go-go dancers who were pulled half way through the night?  That might give you an idea of the awesomeness of the circle.  Soon enough everybody's attention was on the amateur b-boys break dance battle.  I felt like I was in Stomp The Yard II: The Battle of Breck's Dirtiest Bar Floor.  I'm not sure how all THAT happened but it will be a rememberable week nonetheless.

Back to the cold...

I apologize if I offend anybody by saying this, but I have a genuine dislike for people who run outside in these conditions.  You know who I'm talking about.  They're usually wearing some neon look-at-my-legs-pitter-patter outfit on, their cheeks are red enough to burst open and I can't help but ask the question, "Why in the world would you do that to yourself?"  I'm a big fan of fitness, but running in these conditions is like saying I want to befriend death, pain and misery today...so look at me!  Obviously it's not my body, but you won't see me running outside below 50 degrees or in any other kind of element besides sun and fun.

The Facebooks...

Anybody who knows me has a pretty good idea I'm a facebook freak.  There I said it.  But I wonder...has anybody ever defriended someone on facebook?  Ever denied anybody from being your friend on facebook?  Well, I don't blame you.  It seems there's two relationships that this can happen.  The first relationship is maybe a random person who wants to be your friend.  I question, do they really want to be your friend or just quasi-creep out on your profile?  I guess that question is directed more at girls than guys, but do you know what I'm saying?  I'm probably one of the friendliest people you'll ever meet (hell I do it for a job), but it just makes me feel a LITTLE uncomfortable knowing that a person I've never physically met has access to personal information, as well as a whole gaggle of scandalous pictures that are meant for, you guessed it, your friends.  I had a person friend me who I have never met before, as I'm sure many a facebooker has.  She then proceeded to start a conversation with me on the facebook chats.  It's not that I'm being rude...it's just that I don't really know what to say to her?  I don't know why she's talking to me in the first place?  Anybody feel me on this?  I felt about as safe as hurling ninja stars on whip-its as I do carrying on a conversation with this stranger.  The second relationship that everybody has absolute permission to say no to being a friend is...a parent.  My mother asked me if I would be her friend on facebook and I retorted with a blunt no.  Ma, love ya...so much, but we're not friends.  You're my mother.

That's all for me!  I haven't written in a while and it felt good to belt this one out.  Let me hear from you!  Thanks for reading.

Republicans, Contact Lenses & My Kobra Kai costume.

Greetings one and all!

With the election of a new president, a seemingly bright light at the end of the tunnel nearing for my travels and a true holiday season just around the corner, I thought I'd write down a couple thoughts that have been swarming my brain like bees on honey. Except my brain, unlike honey, is composed of matter that can think. :)

Elections, man.

I will be the first person to tell you that although I am very passionate about the direction our country is heading/needs to go, I will only state my case and politely poke fun at the die-hard republicans for their loss. It's not that I'm hardcore left or right, I only feel that an immediate change is necessary to American politics, ergo, we are in desperate need of a new president. We're as in need of a new president as a heroin addict is for a detox. Let me state, first and foremost, that being president is a TOUGH job. I do have a small amount of sympathy in my heart for George W. Bush because given the timing of his terms, there was a lot of stuff going on! Given, some of the "stuff" that was going on was brought on by him and his cabinet (i.e. Iraq), but nonetheless being a president is tough. I wonder what he's going to do after his term officially ends. If I were him, I would find an island somewhere in the Carribbean, only to return to America for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and some other random event, say...The National Hot-Dog Eating Contest? With an emaciated approval rating (somewhere around a lowly 30%), I'm not sure it's a smart move to show your face in public post-January. In my head, I imagine him coming out to crowds who would (for the first time since King Arthur's time) throw cabbage and rotten fruit at him. Too bad. Another thing! I saw a couple people's posts on Facebook saying that they were moving to (insert random country here) if Obama was elected. I'm going to go ahead and guess that these people were Republicans. I challenge these people to do just that, joke or not. These kind of people are silly in my opinion, and they need to learn to crawl before they can walk. My suggestion to you: eat Count Chocula for breakfast rather than your regular Grape Nuts...then we can start discussing a move to Bangladesh for you.

What's it? Where's it? Who's it?

There's a show on TV that's called, "How's it Made?" I'm not the biggest fan of this seeing as how it goes, in depth, about how plastic bottles, doorknobs, locks and etc are made. It's a personal preference and not very interesting to me. I think you can only reach a certain height of entertainment with a show like this. I am interested, however, in how a couple things are made. Plastic bags. They're just so dog-gone thin! AND, how do you package them so tightly compact, while also being able to come apart so easily at the grocery store?! Amazing. More interestingly, I want to know how contacts are made. Are they made in a lab? A production line? Have Optimologists just been playing a trick on us the entire time by saying there is different kinds/sizes/colors but in reality, they've been merely lying to us? Are there such things as different prescriptions when it comes to contacts? Is this just a placebo effect? Furthermore, seeing as how I put contacts into my eyeballs, my body, everyday...shouldn't I know a little more about them?

Post-Halloween Stress Syndrome (PHSS)

So, I'll go ahead and say it...I missed Halloween. I didn't miss it because I'm closed minded and din't want to participate. I didn't miss it because I didn't have a costume. I didn't miss it because I was sick in bed. I missed it because of...work. Long story short, I had a huge banquet that Friday night and (for some AWESOME REASON) a volunteer for my work decided (yes decided, not forced) to schedule the event for a majority of undergrads on questionably the biggest holiday of the collegiate world. I LOVE Halloween. For one night a year, it's OK to dress up as anything you'd like. Girls can get away with wearing, well...literally anything, guys get to be a part of this and everybody has a good time. At any rate, I won't continue on about missing it. I will, however, lay into a company called BrandsOnSale.com. I almost feel like I'm doing the world injustice by capitalizing the company name, but I want the world to know: Unless you plan on getting the wrong costume, a 20% re-stocking fee, and over 2 1/2 hours on hold, do not interact with this company. Prior to my knowledge of missing out on Halloween, I ordered a legitimate Kobra Kai costume, you know the one from Karate Kid? Yeah, I was pretty pumped up about it too. Not only did they fail to send all of the necessary parts (i.e. skeleton gloves and mask), they sent a child size costume! I tried to trick myself into wearing it. I really did. But after the costume came up to my knees and elbows partnered with an uncomfortable super-wedgie, I just couldn't settle. Following 2 1/2 hours on the phone on hold, I was hung up on. Another solid 1 1/2 hours later, I finally made contact with the bossman who told me I had to either pay a 20% re-stocking fee (for the wrong costume they sent) or exchange it while paying the shipping and handling which was another $10. Let me state, prior to this point (approximately minute 53 of my first "on hold" experience), this was about principle. You just don't do that to people! I understand making a quick buck, but I'm a letter writer...ok?! At any rate, I sent in the costume with the prescribed details that Assistant to the Regional Director, Trevor, gave me and I'm awaiting my money back. All in all, this cost me $40, but I've yet to still get a credit for my time and patience from BrandsOnSale.com. If I sound the slightest amount of bitter, that's because I am...with the fire of a thousand suns.

That's all for me! I have some down time here and there so these are some things brewing in my brain. Let me know what you think! I know I'm reaching like 3 readers at best, but this is still super fun.

I've been dazed and confused for so long it's not true...

Hello all (if anybody who actually reads this),

After a 2 month hiatus from normal every-day life, I'm back! I'm back to Chicago for a bit while my travels subside and I can actually begin to understand what it's like for a normal civilian to live in the same city everyday for at least a little bit. In my line of work, it's feast or famine and right now, we're in the famine-era. The kids are at school, I'm home in Chicago, I started a colony in Champaign, IL over four weeks, turned a colony into a chapter in Philadelphia in a weekend, saw the sunrise on a mountain in Southern California, drove around 5,000 miles and visited just about every coffee shop I could throughout the entire trip. I guess a safe theme for the two months was, "What a long strange trip it's been." While it has been a extremely physically, but more importantly mentally exhausting couple of weeks...I'm glad I did it and can engage in reality once again. You see, when you're at the point of traveling so much that you have to consciously remind yourself what city you're in again (let alone, what part of the country you're in), you know you've traveled A LOT. A couple things that have been on my mind lately...

Traffic man...

I was driving to work this morning and was held up a bit by some traffic due to some construction. While this is a necessary part of commuting (it needs to be fixed sometime!), the people who are fully aware of the signs that say, "Merge: One Lane Ahead" or better yet must have a narsty case of glaucoma to go without seeing the HUGE FLASHING ARROW that is pointing to the single lane bug the bejesus out of me. I mean, let's put this into context...and for the record I am being completely fair on this. Huge flashing arrow usually means, well, get the hell over to the other lane! On top of the arrow, wouldn't you just take a clue and look at the majority of people who are conglomerating into the one lane that will get you past the construction zone? What makes them any better to speed up to the uncongested lane that's about to end and then sneak ahead of everybody else who patiently waited their turn and did the "right" thing by adhering to the construction/traffic signs? Same goes for unconstructed zones when you see, "Lane ends in _____ feet!" Why would you speed up and screw over everybody who is abiding by the rules? What a bunch of jerks. My friend Kenny and I, who I used to drive to work with, used to occupy two lanes so that nobody could cheapskate-pass us on the right. Given, I was followed within a 1/2 mile of my home one time by an angry dude, but I felt it was my vigilant-civilian duty to show people that they shouldn't screw others over for abiding by the rules of traffic. We don't do this in the line at the grocery store do we? At the fair? The bank? Then let's not do it anywhere else!

Food Comas...

Everybody knows what I'm talking about here. You're all jacked from coffee in the morning and you go to lunch. While at lunch, you stuff your face with whatever meal is in front of you. I work out a bit and am usually STARVING at lunch so I usually tend to over indulge. After lunch there may be a bit of chatter, but I want you to look around (and better yet, listen around) to the office around 1:15ish. SILENCE. I might as well be an infant in the nursery. My pulse is slow, I'm warm and comfortable and the only thing I'm missing is a pillow and fold-out alarm clock under my desk Costanza-Style. Why wouldn't we take a lesson from one of the older nation's lunch hours like Spain? Don't they take off like two hours of everyday for siestas and cocktails? How about naps in kindergarten? When did we ever stray from this? Production takes the back-burner post lunch anyway. I would be more than pleased to have an adult-sized crib and flannel-jumpsuit regardless of my dignity.

Seasons...

Savor the quasi-reasonable weather because in the city of Chicago, we might as well dig a hole in the ground armed with our laptops, some granola bars and an internet connection because once the first snow hits we might as well have a ball and chain attached to our leg. Let's face it, you don't do ANYTHING in the winter. You're pale, you get home from work and you're tired or don't want to face the elements to do anything and TV more or less consumes your life. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit this but I remember on more than one occasion on a weekend in the winter, I moved a total of two times from a couch in a span of 16 hours. One was to bring out 2-3 meals-worth of food for the day and the other was to use the restroom. How pathetic is that? Well, it happens so use this somewhat OK weather to your advantage while you have it.

That's all for me. Just a couple things I had to get off of my brain so I hope you enjoyed!

Topical Ruminations

I've been living in Champaign, IL the last two weeks, working like a dehydrated Mexican mule, forced into trolleying ignorant tourists across the island of Cozumel for the price of say...a happy meal toy? So like...$0.14? Ok, so it's not that dramatic. But seriously, I've been working 16-18 hour days. Recruiting is a tough job and what makes it even more challenging is that on this campus, every fraternity in the WORLD exists...aside from the one I'm attempting to create from scratch. At any rate, it's raining today and I'm not about to unfold my recruiting table out in the quad and lap up the hot sticky rain in my oversized, borrowed SAE polo on this late August day...so I thought I'd write down some thoughts that have been circling around this bulbous head of mine as of late.

Smoking...

I was once told that there's always a good excuse to continue on with a bad behaviour. Say drinking alcohol for example. It's always going to be around, there's always a reason for it and somewhere around the world or in your very city...someone is probably imbibing as I write this. I mean, think about it. It's Monday! Let's drink. I got past 3 classes for the day! Let's drink. It's raining out! Let's drink. We're bored! Let's drink. Not to sound like the pessemist, but there is consistently an excuse, no matter how unvalid, to drink or carry on with any bad habit. So I turn my attention to smoking. Seeing as how I've been on a Big 10 (holler) campus the past 2 weeks, I've seen a lot of people lighting up their cigarettes and liberally exhaling a cancerous cloud of tobacco into the unwilling faces of this campus' society. I can't say I'm perfect. I have been known to have a cigarette or two in my college days, but it's been a long time from that point and I feel validated enough at this juncture to say ew and gross. You see, I've been on this purity kick lately. Part of that is keeping my lungs healthy. I can't imagine what it would be like to one day wake up and not be able to breath because of what YOU put in your own body. In addition, doesn't it just feel like crap in the morning? Most of the time your breath smells like you've been dipping your toothbrush in an ash tray and I say unnattractive and unhealthy. I guess I just don't get it.

Peddling...

So along with starting a new chapter for a fraternity, I've been doing a lot of peddling in the main quad here at the U of I. We're offering a $100 scholarship to attract dudes to join and let them know more about the fraternity and we're literally using the line, "How would you like to win $100 to the bookstore?" $100 cash in college? Are you kidding me? I would've worn two left shoes for a month or free based a poinsettia leaf for $100 in college. Nonetheless, some kids just won't give you the time of day. I have a newfound respect for people who are trying to get you to join or sign up for something along the street. I don't always have to agree with the organization's stance or their product, but I sure do have some respect for them. I've found that asking them a question, rather than just stating what you're giving away is more effective. I've also found that asking a question brings about a sense of compliancy to answer. In addition, what this produces is either an answer (yes or no, thank you) OR an amazingly uncomfortable corner-of-the-eye stare from the imposed-upon party as they emit some kind of audible "err...uhh...I..." followed by a noun of some sort. It's actually very cave-man like. The noun could be something as simple as "class" meaning "I'm going to class so I don't have enough time to entertain your plea" or it could be something as ironic as the word "fraternity" as in a statement, not a question. Yes, I'm aware I'm representing a fraternity and I'm trying to actively recruit you into it...but replying with the word "fraternity" might just mean the only thing that comes close to a response in your head is by telling me what I'm representing or who I am, which makes me think of the first Austin Powers when he was without an inner monologue. I'm not sure where I was going with that, but I think anybody who's peddled for a purpose or cause knows what I'm talking about. It can just get downright uncomfortable and somewhere along the line you have to develop thick skin and an appreciation for people that have taken your position before.

Language...

If you can't decipher by now, I don't really try to use different language than the average 23 year old but sometimes it just comes out differently. Bouncing conversation back and forth from my friends the words, "word" or "bro" or "dudes" or "sick" or "yo" has frequently found it's place in the common language that we use together. I would also go as far as saying that these words are something that my generation understands and can relate to. I wrote an e-mail to a couple of the guys that I've tried to recruit into the fraternity and I've CCed some alums on the e-mail. I've used a couple of the words I've listed above, not because I'm trying to downplay the fact that I'm going on 2 years (yikes) removed from college and trying to be hip, but in actuality I'm using them because they are of my own vernacular artillery. I recieved an e-mail from an alum today that cited these words and even went as far as saying I sounded like a 45 year old who was trying too hard to relate to the younger folk. His request of exchanging "dudes" for "gentlemen" is validated, however, he went on to say that I sounded like a "wigger." He then e-mailed me a blog of proper use of "wigger" slang. First and foremost, this man doesn't even know the color of my skin and that is EXTREMELY offensive. I took a mental timeout to reply to this guy because I was seeing red at his ignorance to race in this context. I'm not saying he is a bad person, or any kind of racist...but I have to ask the question, where does he get off telling me or anybody what language to use as long as it's not profanity? Second of all, how would he feel if he found out instead of being white I was Black? Asian? Latino? Not to end this post on a sour note, but ignorance to race is something I'm passionate about changing. We all bleed red, we all came from the same Father in heaven. Aside from the race side of this, what is a 45-50 year old man doing telling a 23 year old how to talk to guys that are half his age?!?!?! Grow up.

Alright, that's all for me now. I hope you enjoyed these ruminations because they've been on my brain for a while, I finally had time to write them and now I'm off to go pitch the fraternity to some sororities on campus. Life is tough.