Gettin' Freaky.

I'm not gunna lie, working from 8am to 6pm in at least 80 degree weather with long sleeves, pants, a helmet and a 40lb backpack on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday isn't exactly what I had in mind for my senior summer.

...Then again, I never imagined $4.25 for a gallon of freakin' gasoline or $15,000 for a semester of college, either.

Hmmmm. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm pretty freaked out right now. Yet I can't help but feel that the term "freaked out" doesn't fully illustrate my state of mind.

Let me explain. Right now, I'm...
frustrated with how much EVERYTHING costs,
afraid that I won't be able to keep out of debt for my first year of college,
physically tired pretty much every day due to my crazy job,
scared that I'm not focusing enough time on my spirituality,
feeling guilty because I feel like I'm blowing off my Dayton Friends to spend time with my Minden friends, yet not even spending adequate time with said Minden friends,
falling behind on my daily Bible reading,
out of money until my first paycheck comes next week,
worried because my first paycheck will have to go towards my car, dirt bike, Worldvision, gas and food, and therefore leave little for college savings.

So the closest thing I can come to summing that all up is "freaked out."

Now. Whenever I write a blog similar to this, I try to end on a high note so as to not deter my avid readers from returning because they think I'm too whiny.

Consequently, do I have any avid readers?

Finally and At Last...?

"High school is like a girlfriend that you've had for a really long time, and you get super fed-up with her and dump her. But then you remember all the good times you had together."

-A Wise Man


Well there it is. I was on my way to Emily's graduation party the other day and I drove past the four-way stop that leads up to DHS. I thought to myself, wow. I'm never going to have to go there again. I guess that's when it hit me. I want to get out of Dayton, to see the world, to sail the seven seas and wrestle a wildebeest or two. But high school, however much I was tired of it and wanted to get it over with, was essentially the starting block for my life.

Looking at it that way, I'm kinda sad that I was so eager to leave. Amazing what some cliche speeches, maroon robes and annoying tassels can reveal, huh?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"And I spent last night,
Tearing down,
Every stoplight,
And stop sign in this town"

-Relient K, "I So Hate Consequences"

Going into my senior year, that was a sort of an unofficial theme song. Some of my closest friends in my life had just left me in the dust, and I was stuck to high school like white on rice in a glass of milk on a paper plate in a snowstorm. And however unintentional and beyond our control it was, I still let it get to me.

Looking at it that way, I now have the green light. But as I step on the gas, headed for college, I feel a certain suffocation coming from all the unknowns. Finally free of the rigid schedule and relative predictability of Dayton High, I realize just how much I have to face.

I'm not gunna lie to you... it's freakin' scary!

What am I going to major in? Who will my friends be? What teachers will I like? Which ones will I be unable to stand? How will I pay for those unpredictable costs? Where will I park? Who will I ask to edit my papers? Will it be as windy as it is in Nevada? Where will I find a job nearby? Will the classes be too hard? What will I do for fun? Will I have time to do everything i want to do?

Like it or not, I know the answers to those questions here in Dayton. But where I'm going, I've only got guesses.

But still, I'm ready. One thing I've learned about myself is that I'm sometimes slow to warm up to a concept... but once I catch on, watch out!

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On a quick tangent, I decided last week that graduation is what I picture dieing will be like as a believer. A lot of people I know were really sad about it, wanting me to stay just a bit longer. But I knew that better things were waiting for me, and deep inside, I couldn't wait to see what it was like.



Thanks for reading. Stick around.

-Daniel

Dear _________,

"So a pirate walks into a bar, and the bartender is like, 'Hey, you have a steering wheel in your pants.' And the pirate says, 'Yarr, it's drivin' me nuts!'"

(Such was John's input in the middle of our AP calculus test on Wednesday last week.)

AP tests are done. Well for the most part, at least. The fire of high school is out, and all that's left is the mop-up. I've got a research project and some stats left to do, but overall there's no... umph... left at DHS. And it feels really cool, to be honest. It's cool to finally be the ones graduating, to be the ones celebrating 12 years well done, to be the ones leaving. I've got some misgivings, but I'm psyched.

Mostly, I've found that I'm thankful. This struck me as strange at first, but upon further inspection - upon looking back over these past four years and the junk I've overcome, the good times I've had, and the memories that stick out - I've come to realize that it's so fitting... so right.



Dear Hans, John, Mike, Jason, and all my other peers,

We did it, guys. Congrats. John, Jason, and so many others; we've been hashing this out as a makeshift team since pretty much kindergarten (except for you, Hans. I think we picked you up in like first grade... slacker.) I remember all those ridiculous GT classes with Mrs. Williams, the Halloween pageants every year in elementary school year during which Mr. Greenburg would always dress up as a green M&M and Paul would always be a pumpkin. I remember sleepovers and bike rides and The Oregon Trail. I remember entering high school and wondering if our little band of miscreants would still be together, only to find out that the bonds became strengthened. I remember all the times you guys put up with my shenanigans, all the times I was a total jerk or loser or what have you.

So thank you. Thanks for being such awesome friends. The laughs, the memories, the crazy stunts, will never be forgotten. Good luck wherever you're going to college (yes, even if it is UN-ARE lame.*) And don't think for a second that August 20th will be the last time you see my crazy face.




Dear Robbie, Stacey, Jeff, and David,

Dudes (and dudette). Why is it that here I am, about graduate high school and move into the great wide world, and you aren't here to celebrate with me? Tisk tisk, you guys. All I can say is be ready for a severe toilet papering to come in the near future.** I'd be a colossal liar if I claimed that you all had no role in this. I don't now where I'd be if you hadn't been there to take me out to Chili's, to allow me to watch 24 in your house, and to nail me with a hacky-sack from time to time. Most importantly, thank you for your investment in me. Thanks for taking the time to explain this whole Christianity thing, to answer my endless questions, and be a tangible picture of Jesus in my life.

Let me tell you that there are few people in this world more amazing than you lot. And that I can't wait to come visit you this coming school year. And that I miss you all terribly. And that sometimes I sit on my roof and yell your names really loud until the neighbors call the police.***




Dear Aaron, Lars, and Brandon,

I think you of all people should be congratulated on putting up with me, because you are some the few people in this world who I can just totally dump all my crap onto the table in front of you and know you'll help me sort it out. Thanks for being such awesome companions and having such tireless patience with me. Let me tell you that the A-Team better not perish because of my untimely departure, or else I'll have to turn all "Dark Side" on you and come back to destroy you each one-on-one in an epic funoodle battle.

Oh, and remember not to get Brandeldandon mixed up with Dandlebrandon.**** That could be awkward.




Well, there's just a little of the gratitude that I felt like sealing into a pod and launching into cyberspace. I can't wait for graduation to come so that I can finally say that I'm done. And I can't wait for college so that I can finally say that I've begun.



-Daniel

P.S. In addition to this blog, I mailed out a letter to a specific individual towards whom I've been feeling immense gratitude. I sincerely hope that you have received it, as I would feel like an epic jerk if your role in this thing known as "my life" was forgotten.


*Yes, I realize that a certain scum pond is equal in area to a certain college. Go ahead, have your laughs. ;)
**Or a severe coffee table organizing, if you're Stacey.
*** May or may not have just made that up.
****Dandlebrandon - (n) The infectious disease of the eyebrows, characterized by major vocal frying and extreme insomnia. Not to be confused with Brandledandon.

Crunch Time.

...and I don't mean the 15 or so minutes before I leave for zero period during which I consume copious amounts of Cap'n Crunch.

I mean that over the past two weeks I've been attacking calculus, (perfecting my area-finding and slope seeking abilities,) mauling government, (and I don't mean the tone of my last blog*,) and tackling English (both literature and language, if you please,) in a final effort to be as prepared as I can for these AP tests in May.

You see, God gave me this really awesome vision a couple weeks ago concerning my future, but it also dealt with my present... ever heard of the Parable of the Talents? God's given me talents in the form of intelligence and quick learning. When He calls them into account, a I going to say? "I did okay in college, but ended up with a lot of debts and so I couldn't do too much for You later on." Or will I hand what is His to Him and say, "Here, You gave me these, and I did all that I possible could with them."

Awesome! I guess that since I accepted Christ, I've been thinking in the back of my mind, "well I can do good in school, but that requires a lot of work, and since Jesus is all that I need, it doesn't really matter if I get sorta lazy." But ever since about two weeks ago, my mind's clear and focused... and the Parable of the Talents is practically tattooed on my face.

Lemme at 'em!


-Daniel

*I can still smell the scent of burnt eagle feathers on my keyboard...

Stay Safe.

Jake enlisted with the National Guard about two weeks ago. He didn't tell anyone before he did, not even Dad. Talking to him earlier today, he told me, "I dunno, I just woke up one morning and didn't like how I was living. So I stopped by the recruiting office."

I don't know why this feels the way it does. Jake and I haven't been "super close" or anything pretty much since he entered high school. And I didn't sweat him going off to college two years ago. I mean sure, it was only in Reno and all, but still... I didn't really think too much about him not living at home anymore.

But when I met with him today, the last time for at least 6 months, it felt like the last time we'd meet ever. It felt so strangely surreal, much like the first time I wrestled in a high school match. The ref blew the whistle and stepped back. Before I even knew what was happening, I was grappling with some ripped senior from White Pine High School. It wasn't until later that I looked back and thought, "What? That was me?" And now I'm sitting here at the computer thinking "That was the last time you'll see him for 6 months, and the best thing you could think to say was 'stay safe?'"

I keep telling myself that this isn't as bad as I think. He's leaving on Monday for Fort Benning in Georgia for basic training, then somewhere else (I forget where) for AIT, or Advanced Individual Training. He's scheduled to be part of the communications corps, setting up and taking down satellite relays. After that, since he chose something called the 'College First' plan, they'll allot him two years to finish schooling before he's "fair game" (his words).

Fair game? This is Jake we're talking about.

I read in my government book last week about taxes. There's this tax the government implements (you'll have to excuse me for not remembering the specifics,) where they basically tax the assets of someone once they die. I thought that was bogus, and I was even more outraged when I read about how the Congressmen and Congresswomen gallantly patched up a loophole in the tax, so that even if someone gives all their stuff away before death, the government can STILL tax it.

And I sit here and think about how my brother will be "fair game" (for the same government that feels it necessary to tax the family of a recently deceased loved one) in about three years and get this sick feeling in my stomach. Will Jake be part of Pickett's Charge? Or co-pilot on the Enola Gay? Will he help take the flaming oil fields in the Middle East? Or will he just spend his days camping in the jungle, hoping that the Vietcong hasn't found his location?

The war over there is pointless anyway, so they won't deploy him, right?

Right? Bush? Hillary? Obama? McCain? You see how pointless this is, right? You see that this isn't just one concerned brother, but millions of us, right?




Keep him in your prayers.