The Shade-Tree Psychologist*

The Awkward Introduction

2011-11-18T14:56:00.001-06:00

Your palms are sweating. Your heart lodges itself into your throat, and you can no longer swallow. You wonder if you’re having a heart attack.

If only you could be that lucky.

No, it’s the 5 seconds between you coming up with something clever to say and meeting that complete stranger for the first time. Oh, and that complete strange happens to be your Boss, your future in-law, or that co-worker you’re going to be sitting next to for the indefinite future.

It’s the Awkward Introduction.

“So I heard that you’re no good at cooking.”

“No! I mean that you don’t like cooking and I mean that I am no good at cooking and I agree with you that I don’t like cooking because I’m no good at it.”

Yeah, you still didn’t get it right. And no, that wasn’t clever.

At all.

You now get to spend the next hour and a half (that’s 90 minutes …. which also happens to be five thousand seconds) trying to recover from your terrible, terrible comment because that’s the table you were assigned to, and yes, you do have to sit in that chair because don’t you see your name on the placard?

That’s the second dumb thing you’ve said.

Now you get to sit uncomfortably in the middle of the table, coincidentally in-between the two funniest people in the room (in the world?) who deliver original joke after original joke that would earn them thousands should they wish to pursue a career in comedy.

Now your only company is the frog lodged in your throat because you’ve already used up your benefit-of-the-doubt.

Twice.

…

Finally. The tile screeches as a couple of chair legs drag across the floor, signaling the beginning of the end of the gathering.

The invisible clock begins ticking in your head. How soon is too soon? How long is too awkward? Do they wish you were already gone?

After you wait what seems like an appropriate time (it’s been 20 minutes, but it seems like 3 years), you make your move.

“Thank y’all so much! It was so nice to meet everyone!” Liar.

You walk out the door (don’t run, don’t run) and shut it behind you, imagining all the gossip that started the moment everyone heard the door click.

You rush home, longing to “veg” and forget about the episode. You walk over and click on the computer and get yourself a glass of water.

And then you sit down and begin to blog about the experience.

Ninja Tactics in the Workplace

2011-11-17T15:19:00.001-06:00

This post is for everyone who considers the “minimize” button the quintessential key in the 21st century work environment, for the person who considers gmail chat one of their essential job functions, and finally, this post is for the person who can stretch a 10-minute task into an 8-hour project.

Which means, of course, this post is only for me …

Ninja Tactic #1: Since you’re still here (thanks for humoring me), I’ll give you the the oldest (I mean, my oldest) trick in the book: minimizing a window.

Windows Key + D

This littl’ puppy brings you right to the desktop, which is naturally filled will all types of Word docs and PowerPoints you’re currently “working on.” Now, where was that file I was looking for …

Ninja Tactic #2: This is a more advanced feature relating to Ninja Tactic#1 (super secret): how to minimize a single window:

Windows Key + Down Arrow (gotta push twice!)

Now, if you do it juuuuuust right, you can minimize the current window you’re viewing without ever giving that tall-tale nod to the upper right of your screen.
Smooth.

Ninja Tactic #3: The online timer.

http://www.online-stopwatch.com/countdown-timer/

This Ninja Tactic takes time. dedication. commitment. You see, everyone here knows that I split my hour into 50-minutes working, 10-minutes “on break,” because it has been shown to be the most productive utilization of your time (It’s true: click here, here, and here).

But what happens when there’s no work? (which I know doesn’t happen to anyone else).

You simply put your timer on a 10-minute increment, proudly display it in front of all your other windows and …. read a book!

Did your 10 minutes run out?

Reset it!

Rinse and repeat until you get something else to do. If someone surprises you at your desk while reading a book, well, they’ll have to excuse you because YOU’RE ON BREAK! Been’ using these Ninja Tactics for years.

This post inspire any Ninja Tactics of your own?

Opposites Attract

2011-11-14T15:45:00.001-06:00

Raise your hand if you've ever looked forward to a hunking bowl of cereal, only to discover there's no milk.

Raise your hand if you've ever saved that last piece of pizza, that last piece of succulent chocolate cake, only to discover someone dismantled your carefully planned defensive wall of milk cartons, apple juice bottles, and a strategically placed head of lettuce and SHAMELESSY DEVOURED YOUR TREAT! (I'm not bitter.)

You see, it's true what they say: Opposites Attract. Whatever you desire you don't get. Whatever you don't want is when you discover you're baby sitting your little nephew who sent a recliner through your house window during his previous visit.

When does it end?

My current episode of "Opposites Attract" has me convinced that "Opposites Attract" is a Kosmic Law and not just happenstance: I went three weeks with no work and a subsequent Netflix binge when I decided to rekindle my blog.

What happens?

Four projects from no where. Five days of unmerciful sickness after two years of being sick-free. And a boss that has called me for advice more this past week than the entire time I've worked here.

Classic.

If any of you have figured out how to combat this kosmic case of irony, I'm all ears.

I'm stumped.

The Warmth of Winter

2011-11-11T11:53:00.001-06:00

Winter is the warmest season of the year.

The snowflakes pecking at our doors, the piercing coolness of an open window .... that ritualistic morning race to turn off the fan while still in our PJs. It all adds up to make us appreciate the warmer moments of life:

The joy between a blanket and the one you love. The playful tug-of-war inside the blankets. The light kiss on the cheek. That highest level of contentedness that can only be reached between the hours of evening and morning with the one you love.

That first cup of coffee with your partner. The heat almost races from the cup to your hands, spreading its warmth throughout your palms: eventually winding its way to your finger tips, momentarily giving you the ability to touch the face of the person you love with the warmth you always feel inside.

The long morning goodbyes. Nothing makes you appreciate the connection you share with your significant other than the time between your morning shower and the closing of your car door before heading off to work. That time is filled with a kiss (or two ... or three), hugs that protect you against the bite of the wind, and the inside jokes that get you through the day.

Yes, winter is definitely the warmest season of the year.

Happy 11/11/11 Everyone!

Update

2011-11-08T12:13:00.001-06:00

Readership, don't leave me now!

I have had a terrible, terrible bout with sickness. Suffice it to say that I've missed two days of work and 6 pounds of Josh.

It's been rough.

I just came back to work today, so naturally I have tons to catch up on. I should return to our regularly scheduled broadcast either Thursday or Friday (lots of training this week).

Anyway, Roger out.

I mean, Roger Roger.

Errr .... you know what I mean.

Humanities Formula

2011-11-03T13:14:00.000-05:00

T = Training.

B = Boss.

Today, T = 4.5 hours, and B = 0 (Not here today).

So, T + B = Me sleeping at my desk.

G'night (*ahem* Afternoon ....)

See Ya Tomorr......

...ZzzzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzz

Ahhh, Co-Workers: You Know the One I'm Talking About

2011-11-02T12:46:00.003-05:00

It's a beautiful day.

The sun's warmth permeates your skin, you feel good about using words like "permeates," and you almost feel like skipping.

Almost.

But at that moment you walk in through the door, lost in your own incomprehensibly giddy thoughts, it happens. You see them.

The peanut butter to your jelly, the butter to your toast: "The" Co-Worker. (I interrupt this broadcast to give you the word of the day: Sarcasm -- mocking, contemptuous, or ironic language intended to convey scorn or insult)

Ahh, you know the one I'm talking about. It's that one person that has the phenomenal ability of metamorphosis. It's the closest thing to a mythical creature you'll ever see in your life.

It's that person that can take any word, phrase, or term of endearment, and shift it, change it, riiiiiiiiip it apart and smash it back together into the words you know you "meant":

"Oh, so I look pretty today, huh? So I'm guessing I look like street trash, city compost, barn-yard MUCK every other day, huh!?"

Yes. That's exactly what I meant to say. How Did You Know!?!?

Not.

What is the prescription for this individual(s) (let's hope you only have one)? The Shade-Tree Psychologist is at a loss.

By the way, you look great today! (Excuse my language.)

What They Don't Tell You About College

2011-11-01T12:33:00.005-05:00

Parents: Cover your kids' eyes.

Kids: Close your facebook.

General Public: Viewer Discretion Advised: The following is not for the squeamish.

This sentence must contain something so interesting that it retains your attention for the rest of the post; because I consider the following information so important, I'm going to try my best: Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.

I'm allergic to copper.

Are you still reading? Excellent. Prepare to have your mind blown:

What They Don't Tell You About College #1: What you learn here in 4 years you could learn on your own in 6 months.

Ask any college graduate, and I mean any (English major, Engineering major, Political Science major [that's me], Nuclear Physicist, whatever) this question:

How much of what you learned in college did you use in your first job?

If you get a different answer than a variation of the following: "Well ... not much actually, I learned pretty much everything I needed to know 'on the job,'" then I'll remove this post from my blog.

Go ahead. Do it!

What They Don't Tell You About College #2: College is a business, just like Microsoft and Apple: their goal is to make a buck.

Quick! What's the first thing that comes to your mind: EXPEDIA! Dot ________.

That's a jingle.

Now, consider your favorite college:

Texas A&M University: Gig 'Em __________.
University of Texas: Hook 'Em ____________.
Texas Tech University: Raider! ___________! (Sorry Tech fans, no one knows about your school.)

That's also a jingle.

I'm just promoting awareness.  Remember that even though it's a college, you're still paying for the marketing, just like on a bag of Lay's Potato Chips.

Sometimes, the generic brand tastes just the same.

What They Don't Tell You About College #3: Professors aren't teachers.

Ever sit in a college classroom and, after 5 minutes, your brain goes into a coma? (Your secrets safe with me ... and the blogosphere ...)

That's because college professors are not teachers. They're academics hired to bring prestige and money to a University through the medium of grants. They have a huge impetus to publish research so they can obtain tenure, cementing the fact that you will, indeed, never understand the difference between a plagioclase and potassium feldspar.

So, instead of engaging in meaningful teaching techniques, they Talk, Talk, Talk ...

Talk ...
             Talk ...
                            Talk ...

about their research. And Brain Research tells us that you'll forget 90% of what you hear after only 3 days, most of it being forgotten within the first hour after you hear it.

So: What is What They Don't Tell You About College #1? (Don't peek!)

Told ya.

What They Don't Tell You About Your Own Attention Span: When we begin expanding a list beyond 3 items, our memory looks for the nearest cliff to jump off to end the pain and suffering that numbers 4, 5, and 6 bring with them.

I'll spare you the pain.

What is the Moral of the Story? Get an education.

Wait, what?

Fact is, people with more education do earn more money during their lifetime, have a higher life expectancy, and have higher job satisfaction than their non-educated counterparts.

I just think it's a highly inefficient (and costly!) way to tell your future boss that you're trainable and perseverent, which is essentially what a degree really gets you.

In my opinion, if the education system was more like becoming a plumber, we'd all be a lot better off.

P.S. I'm not allergic to copper.

Don't judge me.

Love (The Real One!)

2011-10-31T11:04:00.003-05:00

Does inspiration know no irony? Why must it compel me to write about love (of all things!) on a cold, overcast, Halloween day? (My brain is devoid of inspiration on most days, so as they say, "beggars can't be choosers.")

Let's begin.

Riding the coattails of the post on the difference between "Love Ya" vs. "Love You" (there is a difference!), I present to you real Love (not the one you find in a glass slipper or at the top of a tall, tall tower).

Before I describe what real love is, let me go all "philosopher" on you and tell you what love isn't. (That way, you might mistake me for someone who knows what he's talking about. We can only hope.)

What Loves Isn't

Love is not butterflies.

Love is not a tingling sensation.

Love is not "chemistry."

Love is not thinking about someone all day.

Love is not in a box of chocolates or pollen from a rose.

That's called Infatuation.

I get butterflies when my favorite UFC Fighter enters the cage against someone who might beat him.

I get a tingling sensation when I lose track of time reading an awesome article while in the bathroom.

I feel chemistry when I pour alcohol into a wound I received when trying to put in new windshield wiper blades for the first time (noooo ... that didn't happen *ahem*).

I think about someone all day when she's my boss and I have nothing to put in my Weekly Report.

I assure you that, when I married my wife, I did not do it because of the butterflies I got. (I was actually stabbed in the eye by a butterfly and took half the day trying wash out their "flying dust" from my retina. Not the best experience.)

What Love i....... Not Yet!
This is where you expect me to tell you that Real Love is picking scabs, scratching a hairy back, or showering while your better half "does their business."

That's just gross.

Love is a lot more than all of this, yet is as simple as any of these.

What Love Is
Love is a choice. Love is choosing to Talk With, Spend Time With, or Watch Project Runway With your significant other instead of watching your favorite UFC Fighter decimate that someone who never really had a chance at beating (I mean c'mon, it's GSP!).

Love is making mistakes. Love is watching your favorite UFC Fighter instead of Talking With, Spending Time With, or Watching Project Runway With (very unlikely) your significant other. It happens.

Love is forgiveness. Even though you neglected your significant other, whether it was for a day, a week, or even years ... they still choose to love (the real one) you.

I promise next time I'll go walk with you instead of watching UFC!

Love is making mistakes. Crap.

Love is a pendulum. One time you're on one end, another time you're at the other, but you're always in flux thinking how you can get your significant to the side of the pendulum they like the most.

Finally, Love is a State of Mind. Here's the easy, cliche, psycho-babble fact you hear all the time: Whether you choose to Love or choose to Hate, you'll be successful 100% of the time.

But let me run that by you again.

Whether you choose to Love or choose to Hate, you'll be successful 100% of the time.

The only thing you can guarantee that your significant other (you included) will do is screw up. It's gonna happen: over and over and over again.

It's the space in between those screw ups that defines the "Real Love" we all search for through the T.V. shows,

With time, a cumulation of The Small Things, and enough forgiveness, we can all really, really Love.

--The Shade-Tree Psychologist

2011-10-28T13:34:00.001-05:00

I have a confession to make: I like making lists.

Shhhhhhhhhhh!

What's the big deal you ask? (Yes, I am putting words in your mouth. I've been known to enjoy conversation with myself more than with other people. Don't judge.)

Try explaining structured To-Do lists, or God-forbid organizational strategies to a family who's more accustomed to terms like "Y'onto?" (Do you want to?) or "That dog don't hunt" (That doesn't make sense), and you may begin to understand my involuntary looks over my shoulder as I write this post.

To tell the truth, I'm still getting used to this whole "organizational" thing anyhow.

To tell the real truth, if myself 2 years ago saw myself today, my 2-year-former self would force my current self into a bathroom stall, dunk him in the toilet, and steal his lunch money to pay for the social skills he's gonna need in the future (the future in two years? Wait, what? I'm confused ....).

N-E-wayz ..... (Look! I used text-speak! That means I'm cool, right? .... right?)

To illustrate my new-found obsession with lists, I've created a "Table of Contents" if you will (you will, right?) to give you a little taste of what's to come.

C'mon, you know you're excited about a list of posts intended to show you the ongoings of a complete stranger you've never met in your entire life.

Thought so.

Now, what I thought was interesting about this Table of Contents was the story it told in itself. It pretty much is a high-level overview of my life in the past 3 years.

I wonder if you'll be able to read between the lines.

Enough of my yackin'. What you say about gettin' to that Table of Contents I've been talking about.

Y'onto?

Table of Contents

1. GraduatingCollege

2. Gettingthe First Job

3. MovingBack To A Small Town

4. TeachingExperience

5. Gettingthe Second Job

6. MovingTo a Big Town

7. IWill Never Donate to a Non-Profit Again

8. Gettingthe Third Job

9. ~~Friends~~and Family

10. DoingWhat You Love

11. ExtrovertàIntrovertàExtrovert

12. Makinga Better Work Environment (Talk!)

13. MissingOut On Family

14. Growingin a Marriage

15. TroublesWith Church

16. BalancingLife

17. SelfHelp Books I’ve Read and What I’ve Learned

18. ProductivityTips

19. PersonalFinance

20. TroublesomeCoworkers (You Know You’ve Got ‘Em)

21. Womenvs. Men Decision Making

22. FirstTime Home Buyers

23. LosingWeight

You only read the first three. Go back and read the rest.

I'll wait.

...

So, wadh'ya think? Any guesses on what happened in the space in-between the numbers?

Revisiting the Past

2011-10-27T13:54:00.004-05:00

Revisiting my old blog entries (though not many) has been a great experience for me. I've never written a journal, so the thoughts I jotted down as a young-married yet-to-be-college-graduated is as close as I've ever come. And it was hilarious.

It's funny that no matter what stage you are in life, it's always the stage where "You Know Everything." There's something to be said for having the ability to point at my 3-year young self and laugh at him mercilessly, letting him know how much he didn't know.

I wonder what my 3-year future self will point at me and say?

Anyway, during this revisiting process, I came upon one of my blog entries that has since lead my blog to get almost 10,000 page hits.

A complete accident, I assure you.

I just got lucky with the name. However, after seeing that it is, in fact, quite a popular in the Google search engine, I've decided to completely revamp the post to fit the needs of the Googlers.

So, after spending over four hours revamping my original entry, I give you my most popular Blog Post (Remastered):

"Love You" Vs. "Love Ya"

Without Further Adieu ...

2011-10-26T13:32:00.003-05:00

I re-introduce the ONE, the ONLY, once-removed cousin of someone who used to go to college who used to know a friend who knew a buddy that said he had an uncle for a doctor:

Me.

With someone with those credentials, how could you not take my advice? (That's a rhetorical question! DON'T ANSWER!)

This is my official re-entry into the Blogosphere. (You may now begin blaring the trumpets).

For some of you, you will remember me from the the early days. The days of Bonus Fries and complete immasculation.

For the rest of you: be prepared. I've come a long way from the beginning. I'm three years married, two jobs removed, and thousand of sentences further into my life.

And it's been interesting.

I've decided to share the wisdom I've gained along the way* to a world that I find needs more laughter.

So, prepare to laugh, prepare to get angry, and prepare to be disappointed if you came here with any hope of finding something applicable to your life.

It just ain't gonna happen.

*Note: Said wisdom is subjective in nature and likely to cause more harm than good. Refunds not available.

P.S. It feels GOOD to be back! :)

Being Old Enough to Say "I Remember When ..."

2010-02-03T17:38:00.006-06:00

I remember when "being on time" was an inherited trait: not a job skill you could list on a resume.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture is replacing me as editor on their staff, and out of the 24 resumes we received, 90% of them listed "being on time" as one of their strong points. Of course, half of these were late to the interview. The iRoNy!

I'm a remnant of what you call "old school" (even though I'm just 23; but hey, who's counting!?). I like my answers in "yes" or "no's," and I consider "being on time" arriving 15 minutes before you're due. So, no ... I'm not really interested in how you got "trashed" last weekend, or how if you had 10 more minutes with "that girl" you could have "closed the deal" (we both know you couldn't close the deal with a mail order bride). Or even how your immaturity forces me to write every other word in quotes, Gah!

Point is, it seems finding a decently qualified employee (aged 18-23) is on par with getting your wife to agree with you on the simplest matter (I mean c'mon baby, you're obviously better at folding clothes than me!). Good luck with that endeavor ...

Anyway, long story short: after weeks of deliberation, we finally hired someone. Turns out, she has a DUI (Driving Under the Influence). Awesome.

A Wife's Interpretation on Marriage

2009-02-15T17:31:00.004-06:00

My wife was recently asked to a coffee date with one of her bible study friends at church. The friend is engaged, fixin' to get married, and -- scared to death. So, she asked my wife to reveal life's secrets to her, in an attempt to better wrap her head around marriage.

As the incredibly thorough person my wife is (I'm so blessed), she typed up a little page on what life is like after unbridled freedom and one too many trips out with your friends (okay, that might be my little addition).

Without further ado, my wife's comments:

Wedding Planning:

The wedding planning is FULL of decisions, and planning, planning, planning. The moment the ceremony is over, STOP. Don’t plan, Don’t worry, Don’t bring up questions… the reception and honeymoon should be relaxing, worry-free, and spontaneous. If you can let yourself go then you and your Husband will have a Great Time.

Identity Crisis:

Becoming a wife is not like graduating high school and suddenly you’re college student. It takes time, work, and growth; much like our relationship with God. We are God’s child instantaneously, just how we become wife instantaneously at the wedding, but it takes a lifetime to learn both.

Honeymoon:

They’re not like the movies, but are special, incredibly intimate, and unique to the two of you. You’ll wind up thankful that they are not like the movies.

The Art of Becoming One:

The Art of Becoming One does not happen the moment you kiss, but happens over time.

Arguing:

The first six months will be as romantic as all get out as well as a trial. It will stretch the two of you while you learn to argue, learn to live together, learn how to be married. This is the part of becoming one.

Communication:

You think you know him, but just wait. You will think that you are saying “1+1=2” and he is going to argue with you that the answer is not 16, and why would you even say that, and then tell you “2-1=1.” It will both leave you tired from a word-whirlwind of misunderstanding, and completely stumped about how it started in the first place. This isn’t arguing, this is just daily confusion. Over time, you’ll learn how to communicate effectively by learning each other’s communication techniques. More importantly, and the more difficult, is that you will also learn to change and to adapt to better understand each other.

Love:

Marriage is so that two people can spoil each other.

Quirks:

This is the funny part about marriage that will make you laugh every day. Truth: Things that you do are going to pester him. I have no idea why it matters to him that my purse is unorganized, but it does. Him using my towel when he gets out of the shower instead of his is going to pester me. Just laugh. :)

Sticks and Stones May Break my Bones, but Words Will Never Hurt Me: An Analysis

2009-02-09T14:57:00.007-06:00

After four years of college, I've learned that placing a colon after a title and inserting the words "An Analysis" somehow makes the words that follow it valid on some way. I'm fixin' to (slang for all my Texans out there) come way out of left field, so I'll need all the help I can get.

I'm old enough that when I was a child, the phrase "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" was still a commonly used phrase among children. Now that I look back, those words seem so much more to me now.

In a world of riddlin and political correctness, it now seems that tough skin, emotional restraint, and owning up to your mistakes are a thing of the past. In the years of my elementary education, when someone told me my mom was fat and poor, we laughed. In today's world, it causes irreparable psychological damage.

It's hard for me to watch the news for more than ten minutes anymore. I'm bombarded by sexual innuendoes and the degradation of the [insert anything here] within a one-minute segment. I watch as political "high-ups" profess social inequality while simulatenously tuning in to hear our African American (can't say "black") President speak.

I listen as a random street person propelled to reality-tv star status proclaims that they have abandonment issues because their parents got divorced at an early age. That's funny, because some of my best memories are when my step-dad was off in a different state working. Hell, if he would have "abandoned" me more often, I might have more good memories with my cousin whom I was raised with.

My point is this: I am 22-years old, and I have yet to meet a person who said "Yeah, my childhood was devoid of any misgivings, and I can't remember a time where I felt sad." I've had some issues growing up, but who hasn't?

For me, I begin to get drowsy ten minutes into a conversation about someone's successful business life. But hell, you mention the word "asshole" and I'm asking questions! The fact is, those "irreparable" moments are the times that made us who we are. God bless heart ache and pain! I'd be one hell of a boring person without them.

Bottom line: I wish there was something I could do about the almost infant-like sensitivity of the world today. How am I suppose to express a brilliant idea if I'm afraid the person next to me might be offended and take me to court?

I plan on raising my children with a backbone. I might even adopt my mother's adage when growing up: "If it ain't bleeding, then you ain't hurt." Hmmm, I can see Child Protective Services now ...

Life's Super Ironic Lessons

2009-02-07T16:49:00.005-06:00

Before I delve into my cynical-charged excerpt on modern life, I want to bring you down with me. *Ahem* I mean, I wish to explain myself so that you will better understand my perception.

Lesson 1 on Life's Super Ironic Lessons: What you often learn to be true frequently turns out to be untrue later down the road (sometimes right down the road, like at the next intersection).

To illustrate my point, take our great country of America for example. I don't know about you, but when I was in grade school, a dude by the name of Christopher Columbus discovered America. As a child, I was very content that an adventurous Spaniard sailed over and claimed the land that I now proudly eat McDonald's at on a regular basis.

But ... things changed. Namely, I graduated to the 5th grade. As I grandly articulated that our sweet America came from a hippy rebelious sailor man, I was rudely interrupted by my new arch-nemesis, our 5th grade Social Studies (what they called "History" in the lower grades) teacher. Apparently that Christopher Columbus guy had nothing to do with discovering America. Vikings had alread laid claim to that area years before.

For me, it signified the end of my prepubescent innocence, and the beginning of my adolescents (AKA fun slowly seeping out of your life). It literally was like finding out that there was no Santa Claus. I mean what the hell lady? At least prep me before destroying my imagination.

In college, we now learn that not only didn't Christopher Columbus discover America, but he began the raping and pillaging of thousands of women and children. I guess that the poem

"In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue. He landed in America, spread disease throughout the land, and caused the death's of thousands of Native-American Indians (who consequently really discovered America) so that your rich parents could buy you things that you don't need"

wouldn't be the best start-of-the-year lesson plan for a bunch of 4th graders.

Well, there was going to be more "Life's Super Ironic Lessons," but apparently I was more affected by the first lesson than I realized (damn it Columbus, we used to be friends!).

Give me your thoughts. Was there anything that you learned, only to find out that you've been living in a hut for the past five years? Please do tell.

Cars ... The Word You Love to Hate

2009-01-14T09:58:00.005-06:00

Have you ever noticed the only time you ever talk good about your vehicle is right after you buy it? That enthusiasm seems to dwindle away shortly afterwards ... why is that?

Well, I am here to break the cycle, if only for just three minutes. I'm here to talk about my car problems, only in a new light. Here goes: the story of a car; a friend who likes to get me from A to B ... barely.

First, I love how my 1,000 dollar repair on the catylitic converter didn't fix the problem. It's a great conversational piece with both friends and strangers alike. "Yes, it does in fact sound like Gandalf and the Fire Demon are battling beneath my car. How nice of you to notice." Or, "You know what? I believe you're right; I think I will go call the dealership again and let them strip me of my innocence and increase the cynicism in my life. What was that number again?"

Secondly, I love how the side panel is coming off, so when I wear long-sleeved shirts, I get orange sticky insulation all over my clothing. It's especially fun when I'm in a college class -- I get the BEST conversations that way! "Holy crap! You're right! It's all over me ... how funny. It was also funny last class when Bob pointed it out, and in Psychology when I overheard Susy pointing it out to her friends. The people at this college are so perceptive!"

Thirdly, I love how the average estimated battery life is five years, but the battery life on my car is a week. I enjoy those extra mornings with my wife as we discuss the day's To-Do list over the ambiance of '95 Ford engine as I jumpstart the battery on her car.

Forthly, I love the roominess of a '2000 Volkswagen Beetle when we go on trips. I get that special "Me and You" time with my cat, him continually yelling in his carrier, me petting his face and whispering sweet-nothings in vain as I simultaneously look out for policemen because I don't have a seatbelt on. Those are the best times.

Lastly, I absolutely LOVE that the trade-in value of our car is already lower than what we've invested in it. There's nothing like knowing you've strategically placed your money in the most lucrative investments. I'm thinking about going into financial advising -- anyone interested?

So ends the story of my relationship with my car -- beyond the dealership lot. Oh how I enjoy the memories!

"Love Ya" vs. "Love You"

2009-01-10T13:35:00.006-06:00

This post is for all the ~~women~~ people out there who want to know if there is a difference between the phrase "Love Ya" vs. "Love You."

Yes. There is a difference*.

Now you know. (That peace of mind is free-of-charge. You're welcome :) )

.................

Wait, you're still here? You want to know m.o.r.e? Well then ... *ahem* Allow me to explain!

First: Let Me Answer the Question You Really Came Here For:
Yes ~~ladies~~ folks, "Love Ya" is a significant form of emotional expression meant to show that he does, in fact, like you more than he did in the beginning of the relationship.

You may now sigh in relief. (3...2...1.......)

You Okay? Good. Now here's the bad news: "Love Ya" is not "Love You." Like I said, there is a difference.

"Love Ya"
"Love Ya" is a Step, the the Next Step really, but it is not what you're hoping for. There's still more work to do.

Graphically, you can think of "Love Ya" as this:

You have to understand that us men are more subtle in our expression of emotion: we have to be. It's a cultural thing.

"Love Ya" is our way of "trying on" The L-word. We gotta' kick the tires a little bit, see how it holds up. So now is not the time to freak out:

"You love me!?"
"You want to meet my parents!?"
"You want to get a dog together!?"

The answer to these questions are No, No, and No. And if you ask these questions too much, you'll end up back here:

So: take a deep breath, relax, and realize that you are now in the top 10% relationship-transition bracket. Congratulations.

"Love You"
This is as serious as you think it is. The phrase "Love You" from a man is about as rare and mysterious as the sighting of a Leprechaun or a politician following through on a promise.

You have to understand that to a man, the phrase "Love You" has always represented the following:

Understandably, hearing this phrase means you've accomplished at least one of the following:

Made it through multiple football games and correctly identified no less than two (2) players
Made a T-bone steak and mashed potatoe meal "just because"
Laughed consistently enough at his jokes to make him believe he's actually funny (we'll take all the pitty you're willing to give)

Yeah, I know ... it's a pretty big deal.

But seriously, the "I Love You" gig is as big a deal for him as it is for you, hard as that may be to believe. Cherish it, it's a real gift.

"Love Ya" vs. "Love You" Stages in a Nutshell
Wuzzup? I can't remember your name.
See Ya Later Still can't remember your name, but you seem cool.
See Ya Later, Man Still can't remember your name, but I'm definitely going to work on it now.
Love Ya It just took me three hours of contemplation to say that, you better appreciate it.
Love You Usually comes after the non-rejection of the "Love Ya" phase. Congratulations, you are now part of .0001% of the population in their lives.
Note: This phase does not necessarily guarantee that they have, yet, figured out your name. Be patient.

And there you have it, the official difference between the phrases "Love You" vs. "Lova Ya" (Be aware that "official" can have a wide interpretation).

Hope this post cleared everything up. In fact, if it did:
DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A COMMENT!

See Ya Later,
The Shade-Tree Psychologist

*Note: If you are a women, there is absolutely NO difference between "Love Ya and Love You." The term "love" is used broadly to express feelings for a multitude of things, such as friends, family, enemies, coats, puppy clothing, fingernail polish, etc.

When Blue Collar Meets White Collar

2008-12-29T09:49:00.003-06:00

Marrying into a family COMPLETELY opposite of mine has been one of the best experiences of my life.

For one, my wife's family hands out 100 dollars for all Christmas and birthday festivities (my new Wii games give their thanks).

For another, it's like I get to live two different lives all bundled in one. I talk about the newest stock exchange developments with one, and how long it'll take the pig to bleed out with the other.

Let me give you an example. My wife and I have spent the last week with her family, and yesterday started the week with my family. Here is some example dialogue between the two families:

Hers: "Well, a business is all about maintaining rather than obtaining. Getting a business is easy, but the upkeep is where it will succeed or fail."

Mine: "You remember that saw that I cut my thumb and my fanger (county accent) with? Well, they got frozen up the other day, and I stuck my fangers in ... well, the warmest part of your body, yuh know? It thawed 'em out reel good."

Yeah, defintely two different sides of the spectrum. Wish I could tell y'all about the time our parents met up before we got married ........

Anyways, good times are to be had, so I'm gonna get back to the festivities. As a new aspiring blogger, this is going to be like fodder for animals -- I'm gonna have LOTS to write about.

See you soon!

P.S. It's great to be back!

Technical Difficulties

2008-12-23T11:16:00.004-06:00

Ah! Sorry everyone, but I've been visiting my In-laws and I have no internet access. (Momentarily at a friends house who has been so kind as to let me borrow the internet.)

I'll get back to posting as soon as possible (I got LOTS to talk about!).

I can't wait to get back at it. Until then, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

--Josh

Italics ... And I'm Not Talking About Grammar

2008-12-16T08:04:00.021-06:00

It all started with a day worth celebrating, a couple of (or three) margaritas, and a PetSmart store conveniently located within walking distance.

Now that I look back, I'm sure it was a trap. My wife and I did great battle on the issue of a pet. Me? Let's wait until we get a house. Her? If I don't get something to love on now, you'll pay.

She won.

So, on the day of her birth, we ended up where this story begins: Fish Daddy's, waiting to consume large amounts of shrimp, and chowing down on calamari in eager anticipation.

It was at this point that I made my first mistake. I ordered us a margarita (Frozen Sangria, lined with salt). Good for me, it tasted great. Bad for my wallet, the cat cost 95 dollars.

But we're getting ahead ourselves, for that was only the first margarita. There were still at least two more to come (being very ambiguous for a reason here folks).

After the ensuing drinks and delicious food, we realized we may not be prepared to drive back home. (Our first clue may have been my wife's burst into spontaneous laughter when trying to ask for catchup.) Yeah, taking a walk was a good decision at this point.

So, this is how we ended up walking around in the block of stores surrounding the Fish Daddy's restaurant, with PetSmart's neon signs vigilantly pulsating in the onset of evening darkness.

And then it came ...

"Hey baby, you wanna go walk around in PetSmart for a little bit?" No, I don't. But I answered "Yes, I do!"

Needless to say, 20 minutes, a cat named "sugar," and 150 dollars later (naturally, we had to make a run to our local Wal-Mart and pick up all the necessary accessories that comes with a newly adopted pet), we were driving home with a mountain lion in the back (our cat is huge).

Which leads us today. A cat (formerly "sugar," now "Italics"; I'm not sure we did much better), who demands to be petted in the morning, orders you to open the blinds when he wishes to look outside, and will not take no for an answer when he sees Mommy and Daddy having some alone time. Yes, I can see the end of childlessness drawing near ...

So ends the story of Italics, the product of a night gone good ... too good. I now leave you with this -- a picture of a "mistake" turned great companion, our cat Italics:

Unexpected Surprises

2008-12-14T21:51:00.022-06:00

Call me lame, hell, call me boring, but I just had one of the best times I've had in the past two months ... with my wife's grandmother.

Yes, singles, accept it now. After marriage, your best memories are made with a 72-year old woman while sitting in her ill-lit living room watching continual episodes of Bob Barker and "The Price is Right" in the background. (I was like 3 out of 4 on the showcase showdowns -- BAM!)

Hanging out with a grandmother is kinda like staying at a five-star hotel resort. Upon arrival, we were presented with fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate and pecan cookies, our choice of shrimp, pork chops, or baked chicken entrees, and freshly laundered sheets, complete with home-made decorative quilts (all compliments of the resort -- I'm kind of important). Hmm, now that I think about it, I could have saved so much money on our honeymoon.

I also discovered that grandmothers have telepathic abilities. There were several instances when I thought about being thirsty, and bottles of water magically appeared on the light stand next to me. (Consequently, I tried my hardest not to wish death on her incessantly yapping chihuahua.)

I have to be fair to myself though, my wife's grandmother isn't any typical old grandmother. When she announced that she would like to take us out to lunch, I started gearing up for the nearest Dairy Queen and perhaps a late excursion to the local Bingo. However, to my surprise, she brought us to one of her favorite local restaurants, which just so happened to be a Thai Restaurant. (You heard me correctly, Thai.)

Now, I don't know about you, but my grandmother would launch an avalanche of 20 Questions at the mere mention of the word "Thai," making me inevitably regret suggesting something "so provocative" in the first place.

So, after many pleasant surprises, subsequent amazing meals, and just plain ole' grandmotherly tender love and care, my wife's grandmother bid us on our way (stuffing our pockets with all the sweets you could imagine. I think I may still have some chocolate mints if you're interested ;).

Moral of the story? Visit your grandmother. You get lots of crap for free, and you get meals that can tide you over for a week.

Just kidding! There's just something about going down memory lane with someone of that wisdom that sets everything today into perspective. It's a very enlightening experience, and a surprisingly fun one as well.

(But seriously, you get lots of free stuff.)

The President is in the Building

2008-12-12T12:56:00.026-06:00

So what did you do this morning? Oh yeah? That's great. Well, I only MET THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! (By met, I mean sat in a chair 50 yards away from him, but still ... ) He gave a commencement speech to our seniors graduating in December. (I'm sure that with a little research you'll be able to decipher where I go to college.)

There's just something about seeing the President that makes you feel like you should be doing something, like offering him your first-born son or something.

It's funny, you could have spent the last four years talking about how you'd give him a piece of your mind, but when he walks in the building, you're looking around for the nearest shoe polish. QUITE a humbling experience, lemme tell ya.

Here are a couple of awful photos I took during the experience, (more for proof of the event rather than a showcase of my photography skills, which are none).

Awful Picture #1:

Me being retarded on the left, and my wife being gorgeous on the right, as usual.

Picture #2

The Bush family on the megatron screen. A testament to actually how unimportant I really am. The only decent shot I could get was the megatron screen in front of my nose bleed section. Now that I think about it, I probably could have taken this shot at home ... Damn.

Picture #3

The President's "wheels." As you can see, the President required no golden carpet for his landing strip. The parking lot, where everyone else parked, was fine enough for him and his accompanying FIVE other helicopters that were there. Imagine my surprise as, trying to be suave with my wife to recover from being humbled to the point of embarassment earlier, six fricken helicopters rise above my head and fly off into the distance. I'm glad I have one of those "good personalities," because my tiny little Ford ranger definitely isn't helping me out in the "macho" department.

That was our little morning adventure. The President was funny, wholesome, and gave an extremely good speech, and his mother was grace personified. If any woman lived up to being the First Lady, it was definitely her.

I'll post no more pictures to give further evidence of my infant-like skills with the camera. I get plenty of jokes from friends and family as it is.

And with that, God bless, for we do live in the greatest country on Earth.

I'm proud to be an American.

P.S. My wife and I will be visiting her grandmother this weekend, so I will more than likely not be able to post. Don't want to let anyone think I'm getting lazy!

*EDIT* Formatting pictures on blogger is a nightmare.

Confessions of a Married Man

2008-12-10T21:21:00.009-06:00

For the single guys who might read this: run. I'm doing no favors for men tonight. For any married men out there, be prepared to nod your head ... a lot.

I'm 22, newly married, and watching Project Runway like it's going out of style. I actually get excited to see what clothing the disproportionately homosexual men on the show will dream up, and I am a secret fan of Tim Burton.

Wait, what? Masculinity? I have no idea what you're talking about.

When I'm not watching Project Runway, I'm tuning in to The Real Housewives of Orange County. Might as well put a dress on me now and call it good.

But seriously, I have no idea where it changed from me physically forcing myself to watch these shows in order to accomodate my wife's interests to me asking, in a very practiced nonchalant voice, "So, hunny, you wanna ... see what's on Bravo tonight?"

I used to watch football. Hell, I used to say "cool." No more. Now everything's reality TV shows, and I'm learning that the word "cute" can literally describe anything. When does it end?

When I hang out with my guy friends, I try not to notice the rustic theme (good choice!) their wife decided for the living room, or how well the blue accent wall goes with their curtains. I might begin rehearsing manly grunts and researching derogatory jokes to increase my manliness before too long. At the rate things are going, I wouldn't doubt it.

People, you're talking to a person who used to eat cereal out of a coffee can. I now make conscious choices on what dishware ("dishware" wasn't in my vocabulary a year ago) to use for when guests come over. Is becoming married a euphemism for becoming a transexual? It sure feels like it.

The sad thing is, I know I'm not the only one (you can deny it all you want guys, but I bet you'll be admiring your 40-piece flatware set by tomorrow). I recently had a conversation with one of my best married guy friends (I feel like I have to specify marital status now, it's like we're different creatures) the other day, and he stopped himself short on commenting on our new throw pillows for the couch. We looked at eachother, gave a mutual acknolwedging nod, and I proceded to inform him that we got them on sale. Got those bad boys at 40% off.

The list could go on, but I'm through emasculating myself for one night. There's plenty of opportunity for me to do it in the future, that's for sure.

I realize that this will more than likely be extremely funny to the married audience out there, and akin to discovering the genome of the human body to the singles out there ...

... Initial disbelief, but you'll come around one day. Oh yeah, you'll come around ...

Inspiration is Underrated

2008-12-09T09:50:00.015-06:00

In my short time as a blogger, I've realized something. In writing, inspiration is everything.

I've heard artists' abilities being attributed to their "inner eye," or writers' successes associated with the ability to extrapolate meaning from the mundane. However, I suggest this: it is the ability to apply meaning from inspiration that makes people of the liberal arts (writing, painting, etc.) sucessful.

For example, notice how "intellectual" this post is? It's not random. I've been engrossed in literature in studying for my final exam, and I just finished an hour-long episode on the History channel about how the Earth and the moon formed (which I find totally bogus, by the way).

Those are the little "inspirations" that have sunk in before I sat down to blog (I just used "blog" as a verb! I feel like I'm official or something now), which has obviously translated into my writing. On the same note, as I read each and every one of your blogs, I know that not only am I reading the articulation of your thoughts, but also all the little "inspirations" you've had throughout your day (or night, or morning, whichever the case may be). How neat!

If you really want to see the effect of inspiration, just check out my first post, "The Beginning." It's just a taaad bit "emo," lol. That may have been because I was listening to Metallica when I wrote it (a secret passion of mine -- heavy metal music [seems ironic, huh?]). So, in that respect, I have to be careful about what my inspirations are before I enter the blogosphere (BAM! I did it again!). I love the cheerful, funny tone my blog has taken, and I want to keep that going.

So ends the random thoughts (or not-so-random!) of a new blogger. I've heard that pictures have the capacity to bring in more readers (thanks Sandra!), so I'll finish with two pictures of my favorite musicians, Metallica and Jack Johnson.

How could that not affect your writing style?

College is Overrated

2008-12-07T20:29:00.010-06:00

Parents, don't scream at me yet! Hear me out on this one ...

Before I start feeding myself to the wolves, let me establish some things first: one, I am currently a senior in college, and will be graduating next semester (Thank God!); two, I currently have a 3.6/4.0 GPA (Grade Point Average), so this is not just a rant from a lazy college student feeling an injustice from the system (I get too much of that from the students' papers that I grade as it is); and three, college is overrated, suggesting that it is rightfully rated in the first place (hopefully this will somewhat appease my parent readers out there).

Now, for the juicy stuff.

I might begin by saying that this is not coming out of no where. I have a final tomorrow, and I am currently studying (*ahem* blogging ...) so I can get a good grade. For what subject you might ask? Geology. Your next question, and rightfully so, might be, "Why the hell are you taking geology (the study of rocks) in college?" Hmm, it's funny that you ask, because I've been asking myself that same question the whole freaking semester!

But here's the answer, and one of my first arguments as to why college is overrated. Geology, my dear readers, is required. Yes, in order to be an upstanding college graduate, the university I attend deems it necessary for me to be able to tell the difference between a plagioclase feldspar, and its prettier, more feminine counterpart potassium feldspar (one has potassium ions, and the other has sodium or calcium ions).

I couldn't make this stuff up. For more information, go here. (If you get past the "Did you know ..." section, you've done better than me.)

So, as a college graduate, I'll supposedly be more employable than my non-degree counterpart. I can't wait for the day that my future boss performs an emergency plant shut-down due to an unidentified rock source found on company premises. I'll be there to save the day!

The list could go on about bogus college topics needed to be learned (or more appropriately, memorized), in order to do well on an exam. I had to learn an "equation" in my Social Psychology class this semester, which consisted of the variables B = (P,E). "B," or behavior, is a fuction of "P" and "E" (people and the environment, respectively). What does this equation tell us? That our behavior is determined by the people we interact with and the environment that we are in. Wow ... talk about the next scientific breakthrough ... (Consequently, I found it very hard to attend that class.)

It comes down to this: it's the professors that make the difference in college; it has nothing to do with the subject you take. A good professor could have you salivating for that next class on fingernail growth, while a bad professor could severely screw up the class on Life Secrets: The Pathway to Happiness.

With that being said, I will say this. College has been an absolute blessing in my life. As the first person in my family to go to college, I take pride that I will graduate college next semester, no matter how hard or bumpy the road has been. Being exposed to different cultures, and having conversations with people from around the world (an opportunity not afforded to me in my graduating class of 22 seniors in high school) has shaped my ideology and view of life moreso that any other experience I've had.

For those who have never been to college, or are maybe scared of going because you don't think you "have what it takes," let me leave you with this. College is a testament of will, not necessarily a testament of intelligence. Will you study that needed five hours for that exam? Because that person next to you probably won't. Will you read the content, go to class, and participate in discussion? Well, that "super smart" 18-year old is probably still at home due to a hangover from the night before.

College is hard because it takes discipline, not "smartness." Take it from me, someone who was as intimidated as an incoming freshman could possibly be -- college is just like any other challenge in life, once you figure out the system, you got it beat. Go for it if you want it, because you can get it if you try.

And that ends my motivational speech for the night. How the hell did I get on that rant? I was suppose to be complaining about college! Oh well, Life has a way of doing that to you.

And with that, I'll leave you with your thoughts, because I really need to get back to studying those metamorphic rocks!

Bonus Fries

2008-12-06T08:59:00.013-06:00

Bonus fries?

Allow me to explain. Bonus fries are those french fries that,when purchased from you favorite local fast-food restaurant (mine is Burger King), find their way to the bottom of the bag, which is outside that ever-so constraining french fry box they are supposed to be in.

Now, I know I'm not discussing the next E=mc2 equation, but bear with me here. Bonus fries just might change your life too.

I went to my local Burger King last night (consequently after watching the new "Whopper Virgins" Burger King commercial -- damn America's marketing society!), and ordered the whopper w/ fries combo meal (hold the cheese -- you can keep your 50 cents kind sir!).

It is at this point, while nearing my home, that I experienced the goodness of what "bonus fries" has to offer. After finishing my french fries (or so I thought!), I reached into the bag for the encore --- the Burger King Whopper! But, unbeknownst to me (who doesn't love the word "unbeknownst" ?), the bonus fries were luring at the bottom of my fast-food bag, just waiting their turn to be consumed by one of the best in the business, yours truly.

Now, I don't know about you, but to me, those bonus fries are worth their weight in gold. You can' tell me that you've never had that child-like enthusiasm of scraping the bottom of the bag for those "extra" fries. It's like you pay for the ones in the french frie bag, but the ones outside the bag seem to be free of charge, yours to enjoy as a gift from the good people over at the Burger King factory.

So, the next time you visit a fast-food restaurant, pay attention to those bonus fries. If you don't notice an instant feeling of child-like euphoria, then you're at the wrong fast-food joint. Bonus fries should give you that much needed break from that frenetic pace that life can throw at you. Who says the "Good ol' days" can't be now?

P.S. Wow, this post made me realize how obsessed I am with food ... I love being an American.

The Little Things

2008-12-04T22:25:00.006-06:00

We spend our lives waiting for that next job, dream house, new car, or that white picket fence. But there comes a time in everyone's life when we realize that man, those little things sure are nice too!

I know there's probably a million different "little things" posts on a million different blogs, but by golly (trying to broaden my vocabulary a little bit), I'll be the millionth and one!

My epiphany came tonight. It came with a little bit' of sugar, a little bit' of spice, and a little bit' of love. My wife made me vanilla-chocolate pudding after our delicious lasagna dinner, and had set up the electronic massager (which I bought for her birthday) in my chair for me. Now, this may seem overboard to a few -- but that's my wife. It was from her that I was introduced to the concept of unconditional love.

Without going into the intimate details that no one out there would identify with, I'll tell you how the night ended up: I was watching tv, and she was asleep on the couch.

Surprised? Probably not. Actually, a lot of our nights end up like this. Now, I know, this is probably too hardcore for a lot of you to comprehend, but my wife and I like to live it up big. I just can't remember a night where we didn't have an adventure. (This is the official *sarcasm* tag just in case my sense of humor doesn't translate to the web.)

But anyways, that was the beauty of the situation. It was simple. It could happen to anybody -- it could happen to you. But only this time, I chose to see it for what it was: magical.

The look of peace on my wife's face, the incessant purring of our cat Italics (yes, our cat's name is Italics. My wife was an English major, and I'm one of those nerdy editor-types), and my sense of contentment became overwhelming. It was hard not to feel blessed in that moment.

Anyways, I finished up the night by waking her up and tucking her into bed (aww, how sweet, right?). And then I ... well, that was it. Simple as that.

Nothing perceivably extraordinary happened tonight -- it just happened on the inside. It was inspiring enough to write about it, even as my wife still sleeps in the very bed I tucked her in to.

For you, possibly another bland love story, for me ... a chance to write down a memory I can cherish forever.

P.S. I'll leave you with one last thing. If you have a wife, go kiss her. If you have a girlfriend, go tell her to cook you some dinner. (Hah, just kidding. But seriously, if you decide to do that, give me a shoutout and tell me how it goes!)

Update ...

2008-12-03T11:45:00.003-06:00

I found out how to search other people's blogs. Success!

Now, to creepily stalk all the bloggers out there in an attempt to get some feedback on my post ....

The Beginning

2008-12-02T21:42:00.001-06:00

I have no audience. No friends. No purpose. Just a desire to write (and create short, gramatically-incorrect sentences to seem mysterious).

Perhaps if my writing develops into something readable, I may make it viewable to the public. For now, I just wish to see if I have what it takes to consistently write during the day.

For the random encounterer: I am Josh.
For the random wanderer: Hello.

I have no experience blogging, nor do I have any experience writing for pleasure. But I do have experience wanting to blog and wanting to write for pleasure. So, we'll see what my mysterious subconscious dreams up (which probably isn't much).

That should be good for a first post, right? It has the wanna-be artistic beginning, the emo-style introduction, and a random-ass attempt at being creative. Yes, that should be sufficient.