A Festivus Tiding

A moment of your time.

I've recently taken the habit of writing these notes. Equal parts trying to make people laugh or think, and making myself feel better by just airing my shit out - these notes have become something of a priority in my life. I've already touched on love, friendship, the weather, and smelly, oddly dressed, cardio-crazed socialites. So what to write now? I realized, I don't have any daily gripe this time. But rather than wait for the dramatic effect of a year-in-review Mega Note, I decided to put out the Big Kahuna Note now... in observance of, say, Festivus. Yeah, Festivus.

Twenty-year-old, Jenna Foellmi, died last week from what authorities say was "a classic case of binge drinking." I mention this because it was a name in the paper, nothing more. Had I known her, it would have been a very real tragedy that altered my daily life. But above all, I mention this because it wasn't me. Or you. Countless names in newspapers have appeared as cursory reminders that life is inconstant. Yet every day we wake up, and every day we go to sleep. It's easy to take for granted, we've done it our entire lives.

I mention this because it's the only way I've found to relate to what countless teachers, family members, and historic minds have said: Life Is Short. Personally, it seems more like life is extremely long. At least until it's almost over. But the "almost over" part is the kicker. It keeps you on your toes - like some people I know who speak of cold weather: It reminds you you're alive! At least it ought to. As this year draws to a close, I feel compelled to acknowledge that I'm still here, and thankfully (if you're reading this), so are you.

Ms. Foellmi; my fellow classmate, Tyler Brengman; and my favorite teacher, Marion Bohnsack are among those whom I will not have the fortune to see again. I'm writing this note as a thank you, and a resolution.

Don't ever say you "Don't have the time" ever again. Of course you don't - no one does! Time isn't something you're entitled to or are given in order to parcel out arbitrarily. It's not a matter of how much Time you Have, but how much Life you Do. Life IS short, but it's also quite grand. It will never cease to give you choices, and whether you're diving over a waterfall, making love, or watching cartoons, you're doing life, and you're making a choice.

I've had quite a year. I braved yet another birthday (if anybody needs a few let me know, I'll be happy to trade down), I criss-crossed the country, I attended 16 straight months of school, and I graduated. Mixed in there were emotional Tilt-A-Whirls, lessons about the opposite sex, and the occasional really good sneeze (for which I am eternally thankful). I strengthened old friendships, forged new ones, and strained some of the most important others. For that, I am both thankful and sorry.

At the risk of forcing you to scroll down any further, I will leave with this: If you like her, talk to her; If it scares you, face it; and If it's precious, protect it. Life is short and nothing is guaranteed. This also means that nothing is permanent - so what's there to be afraid of? If you screw up, it'll pass; If you're hurt, it'll heal; and If you do right, it Will matter.

So, thanks for this moment of your time - obviously you could have been doing ANYTHING else. *Be different, Breathe deep, Laugh and Cry often, and take Pride in those two ovals of the Earth that you own, resting beneath your feet.*

I'll see you next year.

Evolution, you're needed in aisle "Human"...

I've worked in coffee shops for going on 4 years. I mention this because coffee shops are great cultural cross-sections. People arrive in their various cliques, or meet potential romances, or geek out on their Macs after desperately searching for an outlet. But coffee shops are also a zoo of humanity; most people are weird - you probably are too. But there are highly specific, species-like classes of weird people. What follows are three Y2K-era words for some really, really odd people that make me wonder about the shallowness of the gene pool.

"Bicyclones" (noun) - There has to be a word for these upper-class, pedal-powered warriors who come clacking into coffee shop on their bike cleats, decked out in a matching helmet-jersey-spandex shorts ensemble. I have no doubt that in 10 years, this phenomenon will be looked back on much the way fondue and hyper color T-shirts are now. Bicyclones are known to travel in herds of 4 to 20 and appear to be sponsored by companies like Ben and Jerry's ice cream, or Nature Valley granola bars. But these jerseys - as well as the cleats and shorts, which are nauseously revealing when suctioned onto 60-year-old men, can be purchased at any bicycle shop for around $200.

"Cheekers" (noun) - This is the term I've coined for the counter-culture fashion phenomenon in which young men cinch their baggy jeans precariously around their lower hips, about mid-cheek. I have no clue how these pants remain adrift just above indecent exposure, but they do, and as far as I know, they are simply referred to as baggy jeans. One would think that the older generations would have coined some derogatory name for this youthful display, but it's possible many don't notice as the wearer of "cheekers" usually garbs himself in a baggy button-up emblazoned with a dragon or some image of Al Pacino from "Scarface."

"Tagnant" (adj) - This for Mr. Body Spray - you smell. Where once a shower and a little aftershave were the accepted means of deodorizing and freshening oneself, Tag and Axe body sprays have pushed to consolidate the processes into one quick spritzing. When a tagnant customer walks by, their presence is declared punch in the chops and usually lingers for the better part of an hour. While overuse of cologne and and perfume are just as offensive, only tagnance implies an air of uncleanliness, again because body spraying is supplanting bathing as a pre-social activity.

Honorable mentions:

Triple-shot-half-the-chocolate-skim-sugar-free-hazelenut-

mocha-and-can-you-tell-me-how-many-carbs-are-in-your-apple-fritters-single-
bachelorette. Honestly, can I interest you in a glass of water and a brisk jog, perhaps?

Patchouli, dread locks, and B.O. guy. Allow me to introduce you to my friend Tagnant-Joe. I think you two will get along great!

No-Tip Dick - Maybe your name is Roger or Susan. But for some reason, people have chosen to make the word "dick" a common name. If you ask me, it's ridiculous to pretend it means anything other than a flaccid penis, but if you insist on choosing that instead of Richard, Rich, Rick, or Susan, be my guest... Dick. But please, pull that corkscrew out of your ass and find it in your Yuletide spirit to drop that 13 cents into the tip jar, pretty please.

Brisk? No, it's frickin' freezing!

I just, I really hate being cold.

People are always asking if you'd rather be too hot than too cold. And honestly, about 90% of them always yell at what a freak I am for saying I'd rather be too hot. First of all, stop yelling, why'd you ask?! Second, what the hell is wrong with you? Doesn't anyone realize that the very sensation of being cold and shivering is a last-ditch effort by your body to tell you, "You need to get away from here. You are going to die if you don't make warmth happen soon!" Cold=Bad. The worst are those people who come with, "Oh it's great, it's brisk. It reminds you you're alive!" What?! No, no, no, no; BREATHING reminds you you're alive. Being cold just sucks.

Really, really... I hate being cold.

She sells sea shells dow- no, no, no...

Madam, I'm Adam.

That's a palindrome, it's the same backwards as forwards. So are: race car, kayak, Poor Dan is in a droop, Go hang a salami - I'm a lasagna hog, and Never odd or even.

They're all reversible! The point is this: Who the hell has time to think of this crap? Why don't you people get a job, or volunteer, or something. These aren't even that entertaining.

Honestly, Mimes DO useless crap and don't say anything; Palindromists SAY useless crap and don't do anything.

What were we talking about?

It's exactly like that, without all the sex

Friends.

Really the best part of life is holding on to, and making new friends. Everyone is going to go through hard times just like they're going to have moments of unhindered joy. For those times, and everything in between, friends are the canvas that make a painting come to life. Laughing feels better, crying comes easier, and silence sounds better when you're among friends. Like a deposit box that stores those items you don't want exposed to the unpredictable tumult of everyday life, friends are a place to leave pure, unadulterated pieces of yourself that remind you of the best parts of who you can be. They shape you and take shape by you, and they can endure pain, time, and great distance.

Really the best part of life.

A box of chocolates, huh?

How do you type a sigh? What letters do you use?

Lessons are NOT easy. Even when you know that what you're faced with is a lesson, something pivotal that you will look back on many years forth; something that will help to define who you are, something that jerks you into the present - making you painfully aware of being alive; even then, it's still going to be really f'ing hard to endure.

Sometimes - these times - you just have to feel your way through. The brain likes to think, and it *thinks* it can pull you through everything. But sometimes, you just have to shut the door and wait out the storm.

It's times like these that you just have to throw your head back and sigh, however you spell that.