What This Blog Should Be...

It has been a few years since I have written anything for this blog. When I started it my goal was to write about my life and journey to make up for the lost time of my life from the four years previous. I had hoped it would be a tale of debauchery and drunken idiocy, something equivalent to that of Tucker Max or Hank Moody. It was nothing like that, instead, the pendulum swung the other direction. I spent the past few years growing more than I ever would have expected. 

I had this idea that since I was in a committed relationship from the age of 21 to 25 that I had let a great deal of the those crazy moments escape me and it was time to catch up, so while some of my closest friends were having kids or getting divorced, I wanted to try psychedelic mushrooms or sleep with a multitude of loose women. I was fresh out of a breakup that was not my choice so I obviously was not in my right mind. I started by spending most nights drunk. Actually, it was every night. If I was not out with a friend in Dallas then I was sitting in a dive bar drinking with 50 year old addicts and failures. I would drink enough to get to sleep at night and go into work hung over every morning. I nearly lost my job over it. This probably sounds depressing or pitiful, and it was, but the truth is, I would not trade those days for anything.

It was those days that led me to meeting new people and those new people who gave me reasons to drink in high spirits instead of low. I spent the next few months, no, years re-learning who I was and began to love myself. The stories that I thought I would write in this blog all changed. I was living life but the stories were not about sowing my oats or destroying myself, instead they are about appreciating who I am, growing as a person, and learning to love myself. I have not written any of those stories here because I quickly realized that my story is not the same as someone else’s. I have kept most of those stories to myself because they were the exact opposite of what this blog was supposed to be but now, I look back and realize that those were the stories I should have told, the only problem is that no matter how I tell them, you would not understand them unless you live them yourself. 

What I can say is this, never look at a decision you have made and see it as a mistake. Don’t regret those past relationship or choices. Don’t regret what you did on a whim. It is those decisions that can shape your life, it is those decisions that could take you from drinking yourself to sleep, to sleeping soundly knowing you are appreciated and loved.

The History of: Me

    It has been roughly a month or so since I have posted a blog and there are a few reasons for that. I have been busy with the daily grind and focusing on a few new things but tonight I wanted to take some time to write an entry that I have been meaning to write for some time.

    When I was a junior in Highschool I joined the school newspaper and that is one of the key moments in my life where I realized that I really enjoyed writing. There was another key factor much earlier in life before this but I will write about that another time. Recently I was cleaning out my house and I stumbled across the self-summary I had to write for English class. This same English teacher was the head of the school paper. Below, is the exact essay written word for word and letter for letter that I submitted to that teacher as my first assignment.

Dear M. Ferris

    As a student I can be very odd and entertaining. I am usually a jokester inside and out of the class and try to keep a bit of humor in everything.

    I like to be treated fairly, as long as im not the example all the time i’m okay. Its easiest to get along with me in any way. I connect with interesting teachers and boring teachers I dont connect with.

    I dont like reading aloud because it goes slow, and presentations always cause that stomach churning feeling. Group work is something I avoid so im not stuck doing all the work. Writings great but sometimes there are points where you cant explain what you want too.

    I’m a fairly well writer if its fiction; non-fiction is to solid for me to write, it has form and facts and fiction is what you make it. My weakest skills in English is spelling and keeping my vocabulary use simple, both I would like improve on.

    Thinking of previous English classes I realise I only did bad when I did’nt respect the teacher, I felt that way towards Mrs.Sneed.

    I would like to accomplish a high grade in this class but evaluation is your choice. I’d rather not be judged by my ideas or outlooks because their so odd.

    I play guitar and draw and write, im also interested in being a movie writer or show writer or possibly an animator of my own show. I’m not a proud person because their just accomplishments and if it wase’nt you who did it then someone else would have.

    All you can really do to help me is keep things interesting, be open to odd ideas, and maybe repeat instructions because I have a tendency to tune out now and then. Question’s for you, do you run the school newspaper?

                      Sign your student for two six weeks,
                                                           James

I read over this self-summary now and think back to this time in my life and there are a few things I must address.

“I like to be treated fairly” ... WELL NO SHIT, WHO DOESN’T!

“Group work is something I avoid so im not stuck doing all the work. Writings great but sometimes there are points where you cant explain what you want too.” … HEY 16 YEAR OLD JAMES, STOP BEING A FUCKING DOORMAT AND MAKE OTHERS DO THEIR SHARE OF THE DAMN WORK, ALSO, LEARN TO WRITE YOU TWIT, MAYBE THEN YOU CAN “EXPLAIN WHAT YOU WANT!”

“I’m a fairly well writer if its fiction” … I WAS OBVIOUSLY STEVIE WONDER WHEN IT CAME TO RECOGNIZING MY SKILLS…BLIND!

“; non-fiction is to solid for me to write, it has form and facts and fiction is what you make it.” …WHY DID I TRY TO USE A SEMICOLON? Although not to toot my own horn this is the guy who wrote his completely factual final essay in 4 hours while stoned out of his mind for his Interpersonal Communication class in college and made a 97 on it.

 My weakest skills in English is spelling and keeping my vocabulary use simple, both I would like improve on.” …THE MOST ADVANCED WORD IN THIS ENTIRE ESSAY WAS “VOCABULARY” AND “ACCOMPLISHMENTS!” ONE CAN ALSO SEE THAT I WAS HORRIBLE AT USING PUNCTUATION!

“Thinking of previous English classes I realise I only did bad when I did’nt respect the teacher, I felt that way towards Mrs.Sneed.” … INSULTING OTHER TEACHERS, WAY TO GO DICK!

“I’d rather not be judged by my ideas or outlooks because their so odd.” … IDIOT, FUCKING IDIOT!

“I’m not a proud person because their just accomplishments and if it wase’nt you who did it then someone else would have.” …LOOK AT THE SELF-CONFIDENCE JUST POURING OUT OF THIS DUMBASS, WHY NOT BE THE PERSON WHO ACCOMPLISHED THE GOAL, YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO BE PROUD!

“All you can really do to help me is keep things interesting, be open to odd ideas, and maybe repeat instructions because I have a tendency to tune out now and then.” … I’M FAIRLY CERTAIN SHE HELPED ME MUCH MORE THAN I EVER STOPPED TO REALIZE.

    This brings me to my points, One, never be afraid to laugh at yourself, and two, there was no reason for this instructor to offer me a position in the school paper later on and granted I was eventually kicked out but that was for different reasons that I brought upon myself. I do remember that the last article I wrote for the paper was highly scrutinized and I was continuously questioned on the fact that I wrote it because it was so different from what I had been turning in. I never considered why I was interrogated so much about it until I found this and realized just how much my style of writing developed in that short time. I look back at this now and reflect on just how much of a dumb ass know-it-all I thought I was and laugh, but I also have drawn a great conclusion from it. There is no one in this world who is perfect, no one who cannot find something they can improve on, and if we can spare some patience on those people and help them see what it is we see in them, they maybe, just maybe they will develop into someone they are supposed to be.

 

 

Mementos & Memories

    Memories are a great thing. They have the ability to warm our hearts or make us cold with fear. Majority of us don’t need mementos to hold on to those memories and yet we will cherish things for a lifetime because of what it makes us feel. I have 4 items in my house that I have held on to since I was a bright eyes piss ant spending half days at school. Allow me to clarify, that would have been when I was 5. 

   

    The first is a brown teddy bear that my mom tells me she found at a garage sale. I honestly don’t know what age I received him at but I remember this picture of tiny me holding him and having a hat on his head. He was my buddy growing up! I wouldn’t consider him my safety item growing up because I didn’t take him everywhere but I remember always cherishing him. Now, he sits in my closet waiting for the day that I can give him to my kid in hopes that he can be their buddy too.

    The second is my Elmo. Growing up I slept with him by my side every night. I loved it because my mom would come in at night and hold him in front of me and do the Elmo voice. She would move his head around and say things like, “Elmo says that James needs to go to sleep because he has school tomorrow and if he doesn’t sleep we will be in big trouble!” That damn shtick would crack me up every time.

    I remember when I was in my teens a few of my friends found Elmo and monster-napped him. One of them took Elmo back to her place (bow chicka bow wow) and tied him up from the ceiling. I remember having to walk to her place and steal him back. Maybe she let me steal him back and the mission just seems grander in my mind like an Oceans 11 heist.

    I hold on to Elmo in hopes of sharing the voice with my kids one day. I hope that when they want an Elmo I will not have to go buy the $80.00 scream and hump robot dancing Elmo but instead can show them the original I grew up with.

    I also have a patchwork quilt that I slept with every night from when I was 5 all the way through High school. It wasn’t my baby blanket or anything; it was just my favorite cover. My cat use to always come lay on me when I slept with it and nurse on the loose strings that came off of the cover. Today, it sits in my closet more worn out than a Civil War Flag. I don’t plan on passing it on, there isn’t much of it left to pass on, I just haven’t been able to toss it out.

   

    Lastly, is my Power Rangers Dragon Zord. That’s right MoFo’s I still own the original Dragon Zord! It was my favorite toy as a kid! I loved the color green growing up and the dragon was way cooler than that clumsy ass Samurai thing we called the “Mega Zord.” I owned the not so Mega Zord, and the White Tiger Zord but eventually gave those 2 away. I never understood why I held on to the Dragon Zord until my interpersonal communication professor in college asked me to write a letter about my favorite toy growing up. I wish I still had the letter because ti helped me learn a great deal about myself when I was going through a hard time. The letter helped me realize that I identified the color green with courage and the Green Ranger as a leader. I held on to the toy as a symbol to remind myself that I am a leader and it would always reinforce the qualities a great leader should embody. I still have that Zord on my shelf and every so often when things get tough or I doubt myself I look at that Dragon and remind myself who it is I need to be.

    Now, once again this all seems like empty rambling with no sense of inspiration, but bear with me…these mementos are all symbols. They all remind me of great experiences in life and allow me to reflect on the moments that brought me here and made me the person I am today. I want to urge everyone to take a moment and reflect on some of your greatest treasures, on items that mean nothing to anyone but you, and feel the emotions they bring to you. I invite everyone to write about their favorite toy and discover why it was so important to them while growing up. I would love to hear other peoples stories but only if you want to share those feelings and thoughts, sometimes they can be more than we are prepared to handle.  

 

Now & Then: Gatsby

    I enjoy a party as much as anyone else. There is a great deal of enjoyment in gathering people, mingling, and making new friends. In my past one could have considered me to be a young Gatsby. I would host parties for the simple reason of inviting over women that I had interest in with hopes of wooing them.  

    In my early twenties it was easy to get off of work at 10:30 (PM), grab a case of beer, some Boons-Farm, and invite all of my co-workers and friends over to party. I would give my roommate 15 minutes’ notice to get out of his PJ’s and spot clean the house. Within the hour we would have fifteen to thirty people over playing beer pong. There would be plenty of people smoking cigarettes on the porch and decent pop rock or top 40 playing on the lap top while everyone mingled. Usually a few hours in the roommate would end up on the roof with at least 2 other people while some drunken girl craving attention would have flashed her boobs at least 5 times by one o’clock.

    This method worked well for me and often led to me and some young lady in my room but I have never been a fan of the golden rule of sales…Always be closing. Almost always I would stop things before it went too far and while most guys would say this is dumb of me I honestly enjoyed knowing I have self-control and self-respect to not raise my number just because I could.

    Jump forward to 2015, I am now 26, living alone, single…again, and finally realizing the flaw in Gatsby’s master plan. Hosting booze fueled nights in hope of creating a relationship or connection of any form is a poorly laid out plan. It offers a great opportunity to catch all of the red flags but why even waste the time. I’m not saying that only bad things come from these situations, that is far from true, a great deal of amazing things happened on nights like this but it always had its flaws.

    Building a connection with a woman who is 5 beers and 4 shots in while she flashes the room will not lead me or many others to true happiness. These actions should be the writing on the wall that warn us of what we are about to get into. I am happy that I no longer find appeal in this Gatsby concept but also wish to pay my respect to what it has taught me. I learned that I have a great deal of self-control and that our intuitions and insight can save us from some really bad situations.

    I reflect on these nights and cherish that they are a part of my past. I hold memories of growing close to friends and a lover in these situations very close to my heart and often smile when I remember them. I will never forget the New Years that the roommate and I ended up in our birthday suits with glittery top hats over our junk while playing pong against each other. I will always cherish the Sunday cookouts with horse shoes and fajitas. I will always grow warm when I think back to my first surprise party thrown by someone who loved me even if the surprise was ruined. I know that I usually try to wrap these blogs up with some form of inspiration or call to action but not everything in our life has to be a step forward or a leap in a new directions, sometimes it is perfectly fine to stop, sit, and reflect on where we have been, instead of worrying about where we are going.