My BFF and a Muslim

I do not know these people, but I took this photo of them.

Once I went on a short vacation-trip with my family up to some barren cabin on a lake owned by their friends.

1. I hate nature.
2. I hate the outdoors.
3. Going to a cabin sounded awful, but I bit the bullet and decided not to be a sourpuss and went on the vacation.

I went canoeing by myself because that is one thing I like about the outdoors. Actually I like kayaking better than canoeing because I suppose canoes are more for groups of people, or at least a couple. *Note to self that canoe = excellent date op. ((Actually, my hurdles coach in high school told the hurdlers that his first date with his wife was on a canoe. He said it was horrible because all she did was make him row and she just sat in the canoe thinking it was great.))

After canoeing, I decided to do my calculus homework (outside so that I could capitalize on the “beauty of nature”) and also read some books about doctors. Then I ate and went to bed.

I couldn’t go to bed because I felt like I would stop breathing. This really bothered me, but everyone was asleep, and I didn’t feel comfortable waking up my mom or stepdad/I didn’t know where they were sleeping and I didn’t want to creep around the cabin and accidentally see a couple getting freaky (because we were at the cabin with their friends). So I texted two friends.

My bff was rather nonchalant. He said his brother suffered from a similar condition, and that I should get it checked out. That is all. I was expecting more from him because I could have died that night, but I guess he’s just real cool in life-or-death situations.

My Muslim friend was more sympathetic. I do not know why I texted her because we aren’t really that close. She was more motherly than my bff, though.

What does it mean that I texted these two friends when I thought I was going to die? That I texted instead of called? That I specifically chose them? C’est la vie.

For the record, I didn’t think I was going to die, but I did want to tell someone what I was experiencing. I didn’t think it warranted waking someone up just to tell them what I was experiencing. But then what if I did think I was going to die? Would I still wake someone up with a phone call telling them, “Hey, I think I might die?” I told my mom in the morning, and various reports indicate that she watched me at night and hovered her hand over my mouth to ensure that I was breathing as I slept.

Breaking the Trend

Lately I’ve been posting items that don’t necessarily relate to me personally. I’ve been exposing my thoughts, but not me. I don’t mean that doing so is necessarily bad, but it will become bland very quickly if I don’t break the trend. Without further adieu, let me sit at the front of the bus. ((This is a reference to the extraordinary Rosa Parks who broke the trend when she could have continued to break herself.))

Actually, one adieu: I tend to think that these “personal” posts are boring: They’re all about me, and what has happened to me. If you don’t know me, or vaguely know me, then these posts are a drag — like my Nature of Mathematics class. I would say I wasted three credit hours during my first college semester, but I don’t think you should ever think that you have wasted your life. You know, I think I’m developing a fatalist view of life.

I tend to think things happen for a reason. When it comes to love, I lobby for the idea that there is only one person in the world for you: That’s 1 out of 6 billion people. I think it’s fate when people fall into a legitimate love. I suppose you can find a genuine love with more than one person, though. If you think of love as having prerequisites for each “type” of person, then certainly someone could find that “type” of person that would suit the “type” of love they harmonize with.

I tend to think that you can’t really screw up in life unless you simply do not try. As long as you keep rowing the boat, you will get somewhere. It may not be where you want to be, but you will always still have the option to change course. ((If you’re interested, at this point I began to think about how effective my analogy/metaphor is. Is life really open like a body of water? Or is it more like a road where it is more direct — one way, or a two way street? Hmm.)) Therefore it is my conviction that what happens in life happens for a reason; it’s fate. It happened to you and now you take some of the authorship of your life by reacting and managing the situation.

This really didn’t become a “personal” post. I can’t break the trend. How about this?: I might go see a rap battle at the beginning of October. It should be interesting, but I haven’t still decided whether I will go. Rap can be so influential and charismatic; it’s almost heartbreaking to see how much of it is dominated by hate, and lust for the physical and material. There is beautiful rap out there.

Before midnight I went down to visit Trevor’s room. Trevor is my best friend from middle school. Gradually we’ve grown apart, but we’ve managed to stay in touch and we’ve ended up at the same university. ((In fact, I hated him one year. It was terrible.)) It was real nice seeing him again, and just spending one-on-one time. He’s a brilliant man and a hard worker. He deserves whatever he is working for, and I think that is a career in medicine: He can do it. He inspires me.

Big Brothers Big Sisters starts this week! This is too exciting. I wonder what my Little is like. I’m so excited to still be working with kids. I’m glad I discovered that I liked working with them. It’s not the same as having my own kids, but I think one day I would love to have some. Like six. Two boys and four girls. And I have some of the names picked out.

I bought Gladiator and Hotel Rwanda when I took RJ and Z back home with me. It was a real privilege to show them around my turf. Both of those movies are good. In fact, I watched a good amount of Gladiator this past evening with some friends. I also made taco dip, and it was a decent for my first attempt; I had to call Rachel first to hammer out the details because her mom makes taco dip very well.

Z bought a penguin for Samantha this past afternoon for her birthday. It was a great find — by me, of course. I’ve eyes for spotting out penguins. I almost wish I hadn’t found the penguin because I really want it. Man. Why do I like penguins? How odd. I guess they are cute. I mean, look at them: They waddle.

The Giants are on bye this week. I’m 2-1 in fantasy football, and I think I will be 3-1 by Tuesday. I’m not sure if my league is that active though. The leader in our league is still starting Jeremy Shockey. ((Shockey is out for a couple of weeks with another inhibiting injury.))

That’s all. Love to you.