When I grow up

What did you dream of being when you were merely 7-years-old?

In elementary school, I dreamt of being a teacher. My first grade teacher's name was Mrs. Tasker. I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to teach phonics, basic arthritic and science. I wished to be a tall as her, as kind and thoughtful while still holding true to the fundamentals of student learning. I felt the majority of my peers were inspired by their own teachers. Teachers are the first adults children spend more time with other than their parents. They are not there to replace them, but to act as a support system for learning and social needs. I discovered the need to continue this sector of American life within my very own American Dream at the ripe age of seven, however there was no way to know where I was going to end up later.

Continuing, the majority of school aged children aspire for careers in teaching, nursing, firefighting, etc. because those are the people who they look up to. There are the one's who are there to help and to create focus. They keep people feeling safe and secure. Security goes missing the moment one leaves the womb. A person then is exposed to the elements until they are sent six feet under.

Currently, I strive to become...a writer? Yeah, I'm a crazy in the sense even questioning my own goals. My grip of the English language remains weary and my sense of self dwindles. Thoughts continuously running through my mind lend me little sanctuary for answer if this is real. The truth is, I love telling people about things. I love telling stories. I can't successfully say I am a good storyteller, but I like to keep people as well as myself informed. I want to be in the middle of the world, talking and really trying to discover what makes humans tick. Who are we? Why are we here? What are the reasons for the problems in the world?

Dreams? Since the first time I watched Almost Famous, I've wanted to write for Rolling Stone Magazine. However, that is what I would like to refer to as "reaching for the stars," but goals are what make humans succeed. Recently, I am striving to work towards the greater good. I want to go an be in the middle of what is happening in the world. Take me there, soon.

Right now, I'm just procrastinating on an article I have to write, but I really am so confused writing down these thoughts helps me organize.

By the way, currently on a HUGE Mumford and Sons kick. Why have I never heard of these fellows before? GREATNESS.

Four years too short

Starting this back up again. There are so many thing to do, with so little time. There needs to be time for reflection. The angle, the goal for this remains a mystery. I feel like this venture will help continue a persuit of...the unknown. I really don't know what I am striving for at this moment, but I am positive I will find the answers soon. I am about a month before limbo starts. The alternate reality that it is no longer socially acceptable to drink excessive amounts of booze to forget the rest of the world. Tragic, I know, but not the end of the world. There are different things to focus on. Like, what kind of job to I want? Where do I want to work? Is this the right path for me? Should I go to grad school? Do I want to make my parents happy? or just me?

My own self identity is slipping. Last night, I finished reading "Mother Night" by Kurt Vonnegut and related the entire time to the protagonist, Howard W. Campbell. Not in the whole being an American spy aspect, but all of a sudden finding oneself is a perpetual state of nothingness, purgatory.

I don't know what I want or where to go to even find where my Starting in May, my own purgatory will be the glorious Akron, Ohio. (Uh, Akron just got a shout out on the Sonic commercial in between segments of the Kardashian sister whinning, which is ironic because we don't have Sonics there...SWENSON'S!) Anyway, I don't know what will happen after those first three months, but I have a suspicion that the answers will find me, hopefully soon.

I secretly wish I was still 18, wide eyed and innocent. Not know what I want, but still having the answers within the walls of this institution. UD is letting me go, but it will forever be mine.

Real Life Lessons

I found this on my old, old, old xanga.com blog from high school.

"How to be cool.
By: Tre Cool

Trying to be cool is not that cool.
Everyone should have their own style. Yesterday we were on a plan from Berlin and there were 25 hair models all coming back from some hair convention. They were trying to out-cool each other so much. They were wearing weird clothes, it looked like every single thing they were wearing was thrift store items. It was like everything had a story. That was pretty cool, but trying to out-cool people is not cool. You've got to just let it course through your veins.

Hair made the man/woman.
Cutting your own hair is really cool. I've had disasters, but it's always grown back. The extra inch is cool. You know, when you cut the hair at the top of your dick really short, so when you're standing naked you dick looks longer? That's a top tip for the gents.

Respect the cock!
Condoms are very cool, because they allow you to have sex without getting diseases. And children, which is kind of like a disease because it makes you throw up in the morning and then it turns you into a parent. Sex toys are cool, too. Dildos and whatnot. Wow, Tre's guide to cool is getting good.

Don't wear sunglasses indoors without a very good excuse.
I think it's a little weird unless you're just been in a 12-round boxing match. And even then, met me check out the shiner, dude.

Only get into fights you can win.
It's best to either just walk away or make sure you can win it. It depends on how important it is. If it doesn't really matter fuck all at the end of it forget it, but if it has something to do with my band or my family then it's cool as long as I make sure I win. I almost got my ass kicked the other day. I know it's a little homoerotic, but I've been wrestling people bigger than me on the tour, and once they start kicking my ass I start cheating. Cheating's not cool. Wresting's not cool either. It hurts.

Build up your alcohol tolerance.
Being able to drink more than your friends and being the last one standing is cool. But don't drink and dial. It's better to text when you're wasted. Texting is cool.

If you're not blessed with natural cool, work with what you've got.
Embrace your geekiness - own it, make it yours."

I hope you kids were taking notes!!

PUTIN GIVING A RASPBERRY ON THE BELLY OF A CHILD, NORMAL:

Happy Birthday Jesus, Sorry Your Party's So Lame.

I’m a few day late on this, but this is a point I need to bring up.

The worst day of the year to be born is Dec. 25., Christmas Day. The annual celebration of capitalism and consumerism, but it’s not all about the presents. It’s about who you have to share your special day with, Jesus. The exact date of Jesus’s birth is not officially known, but for some reason ancient peoples decided on the twenty-fifth day of December. Take it into consideration, think of a famous person born on your birthday. That person is no way the son of God, therefore, will not be respected more than you by your family and friends. So, sucks for you.

Most people forget why we give presents to one another, but if anyone can think back to the tale of the three wise men following the star to bring the baby gifts of myrrh, frankincense and gold to the dingy stable in Bethlehem. This some how evolved into a tale of some fat guy wearing a red suit, living in the North Pole and sneaking into everyone’s house Christmas Eve to leave presents. Utter, bullshit.

Bringing it back to birthdays sucking on Christmas argument; the holiday season is a month long mess of traffic, overcrowded shopping areas and tree lighting ceremonies; all of the sake of Santa...err..Jesus. It is just an occurrence that the fact of your own birth be lost in the hustle and bustle, truffle and shuffle between Thanksgiving and New Years because the holiday season has become a sanctuary for the American Dream rather than a time of giving and spending time with loved ones. The month like marathon of shopping is now what defines our culture and not the holiday cheer. The cheer coming from spending money on expensive gifts in hoping to see a smile of who ever opens said present. Blah.

Christmas should really be about togetherness and giving, not only presents, but time and your body to helping the community at large.

I’m not done here, will finish later

Putin Pic:

Are you there Vodka? It's me Gina.

Who I aspire to be: Chelsea Handler.



No, really, I’m serious.

For all of you who are not familiar with her work, Handler is a New Jersey native comedian who rose to fame thanks to her sharp tongue featured during her own late night talk show on the E! television network. She is the modern day renaissance woman along with having at least three New York Times bestselling books. (Dear Oprah, Boom, Roasted). During the entire Leno vs. Conan ordeal, I was busy watching this combination of Jewish and Mormon heritage ripping into everyone from “The Situation” to Mel Gibson.

He's just misunderstood:


Handler starts where the Spice Girls left off with the whole “Girl Power” fad by excessively drinking and sleeping around and gives a definite answer to why men are from Mars and women are from Venus. All the while, bringing the reality back to how both sexes want the same thing; to get laid. Don’t lie to yourself, you know it’s true. (I think if she was in the Spice Girls, her nickname would be Skanky Spice or Drunkie Spice.)

They'll tell you want...what you really, really want:


THE BREAK DOWN
Reasons why I aspire to be Chelsea Handler:
1. Her best friend is a little person
2. She has three bestselling books describing her sex life and love of alcohol.
3. According to Forbes, she’s worth about $19 million. Yeah.
4. Life time supply of Belvedere vodka
5. The people who work for her are eccentric.
6. Hosted the VMAs
7. Accomplished writer
8. Having your own television show is a plus too.
9. Getting to make fun of whoever she wants.
10. Meeting famous people (most of who she taughts nightly on syndicated television)

Cons:
1. She might have an STD from sleeping around
2. She’s not even 40 yet, but I have reason to believe her liver might be in the shitter.

But, she does get to hang out with this guy all day:


In the end, Handler’s ability to make money off her love of vodka is the one of the most appealing things about her career. Futhermore, I love red wine. YELLOW TAIL REPS! CALL ME!



Anyway, I dream of a world where people realize we are all here as human beings for one simple thing…reproduction...and until then people like Handler will continue to show us the ways of the world through the art of comedy..err...alcoholism. It’s not exploitation of the female form, but a fact of human existence.

HERE’S PUTIN:

The Beginning of the End

There is no other reason for me starting this blog other than pure boredom. No place would hire me during winter break because I obviously lack the skills needed to sell hams and slacks to overbearing assholes. So, for the past three days, I have been attempting to plan my escape out of Akron, Ohio as of May 2011. It's going to be a tricky task, but I think I'll be able to handle it.



First, applying to internships. Oh, God. The process of sending resumes, cover letters, clips...the whole shebang across cyber space in hopes of acceptance into the world of writing, editing and death by AP style. I am on the verge of selling my soul to Satan (sorry, Jesus) for the chance to get some newsroom experience and am committed to finding a summer PAID internship.

Second, trying to figure out how to continue my conquests aboard. Yeah, I want to teach English in Thailand. There I said it and am applying. (I think Cee-lo said it best it that one song, "fuck you." Am I insane? eh. Is this a good idea? maybe. Do I have anything better to do in this house than fill out countless application forms and e-mails? absouley not. Lastly, Thailand is know as "the Land of Smiles" and smiling is one thing I do best. BONUS POINTS.

Finally, I am sick of this bullshit weather and it might be one of the top factors of me wanting to move to Thailand.

My cat is a jerk and aggravating my allergies. The Cavs keep losing and Lebron keeps winning. Michael Jackson is still dead. The world just can't win, can it?

Side bar, the house repealed DADT (finally) and Obama stayed home from a Hawaiian vacation with Michelle and the kids to sign the bill. Sounds like the man is getting some of his priorities right. (you know, worrying about the well-being of the American public.) whew.

And now time for your daily Putin:


TOT ZIENS.