Public

You may have noticed something different about this blog.  Namely, it's no longer accessible by invitation only but is, in fact, accessible by anyone with an internet connection.  Why the sudden change?  My divorce is final.

You see, I never meant for this blog to be private, but when I first filed for divorce, I was afraid that Allison might use something I wrote against me.  Rather than censor myself, I decided to simply change the privacy settings to invitation only.  With the divorce finalized, I no longer have any reason to keep the blog private, so I've gone back to sharing my secrets with the world.

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my divorce.  Now that I'm a free man, it feels right that my blog matches that sentiment.

Status Update

Yesterday, I had to go to the county clerk's office for another status update.  The last time I attended one, I had just found out that the first summons I issued hadn't been accepted.  This time, I had just submitted a request for default (i.e., a request that the court moves forward with the divorce proceedings despite Allison not responding to the original complaint and/or summons), so we should be moving forward now.

One nice thing I found out: when Allison's thirty days to respond to my request for default runs out, I don't have to request a hearing date.  Rather, the court will issue one automatically.  I'm still going to call and make sure that no action is required on my part once the time is up, but it's nice to know I shouldn't be required to.  At the rate we're going, everything should be finalized before my birthday.

And that would be the greatest birthday present I could ask for this year.

See You in Court

I have a hearing to attend this morning.  It's about the divorce, but it won't be wrapping things up.  You see, when I had Allison served back in August, I didn't include one document because I had previously emailed it to her.  She had all the paperwork that I needed to deliver, but the court had no record of her receiving it, so I have to serve her a second time.  Allison already knows and I'm working with her to coordinate the delivery.

So why the hearing?  The reason I have to appear in court is because I first filed for divorce back in February and it doesn't usually take this long to finalize everything.  The court order I was issued simply says "Status Update" in the subject line.  I should be in and out in five or ten minutes, but since I filed in the county I was living in a few months ago, I have to drive about forty minutes to get to the courthouse.  If I skip the hearing, I risk having my case dismissed and I'll have to file all over again.

While it's inconvenient to need to go to court for something so trivial, it's worth it if it means that I can wrap this whole thing up.

Tuesdays with Media: Why are Comic Books Addictive?

For roughly six years, from 2000 to 2006, I collected comic books, which even included the two years I was serving my mission.  I enjoyed the characters, the settings, the interconnectivity between titles, all of it.  Even when I wasn't reading comic books, I was thinking about the stories and characters.  When I graduated from high school, my goal was to become a screenwriter as a way to break into writing comics, though the reverse is more common.

What I didn't know, however, was that I was addicted to comic books.  With the popularity of superhero films in the past few years, comic books are more prominent than ever before, which has led me to think back to the time that I spent as a collector.  I've decided to take some time to discuss why comics are addictive and why I had to drop them cold turkey.

Addictions can arise with any repetitive activity.  The brain registers a particular activity as pleasurable, so we seek to repeat the activity to receive the same reward.  As time goes on, the pleasure we experience with the activity diminishes, so we have to spend more time doing that activity to achieve the same high as before.  That's why compulsive gamblers can spend entire days in casinos: they've become so numb to the activity, but they still try to achieve the rush that came so easily early on.

Comic books are usually published monthly and are collectable.  That means that not only can I get a high from reading a comic book for that month, I can also go out and seek older comics to fill in the gaps in my collection.  Depending on what publisher you follow (the big ones are DC, Marvel, Image, and Dark Horse), there could be decades worth of comics to collect.  The first superhero comic (the most popular genre in comics, though there are others) was Action Comics #1, published in 1938.  That means that a hardcore collector of Superman comics has to go back more than 75 years to have a complete collection.  Even a relative newcomer like Wolverine first showed up 40 years ago in 1974.  And the hunt for missing comics is as much fun as collecting the new stories.

The stories themselves, at least when I was reading, pushed the reader to read multiple titles.  At one point, Superman had four monthly titles that you had to read if you wanted to know what was going on.  Then there were crossovers where, for example, the Flash might show up and help Superman with a mission in the pages of Superman, giving the reader incentive to also pick up The Flash.  On top of that, DC would put out a huge crossover mini-series once a quarter that involved multiple heroes' books.

All of that would be enough to make comic books addictive, but there is one other component also at play: self-insertion fantasy.  Comic books are heavily marketed to teenage boys, and generally had PG-13 level of violence and sex -- there was never any graphic nudity in the books I read, but there was plenty of implied nudity, which is when a character is naked, but the "naughty bits" are obscured.  And while the depiction of women in comics can definitely be classified as sexist, the real fantasy lies with the men.  Where women are depicted as "ideal" specimens for the opposite sex, the men too are depicted as "ideal" presumably so the male reader can insert himself into the story through that character.  Think about it: Superman's costume is so form-fitting that he resembles an ancient Greek sculpture.  He's perfect for a young boy to fantasize himself looking like.

Once I learned all of this, I gave up comics, though it was still hard.  During the first few months after I stopped collecting, I would go back through and reread a lot of old stories.  Allison's support really made a positive difference in my recovery.

Now, you may be wondering why I still watch superhero movies if comics are so addictive.  The reason is that most of the problems with comics are with the fact that they keep coming month after month.  The movies are a one-off experience.  You can by the DVD or Blu-ray, but that still only happens one time.  Even the fantastical nature of the heroes is toned down since actual human bodies and fabrics behave differently in the real world.

However, that doesn't mean that all comics are evil and have to be avoided, at least by other people.  There were some really good stories I read that were created by very talented writers and artists.  If you have a child that shows interest in comics, my warning is to be careful.  Check out what they're reading and don't let them read too many titles at a time.  Also, reprinted collections (called trade paperbacks or TPBs) can be a way to eliminate the collecting aspect of comics, which is the most addictive part.

While I still have a fondness for superheroes, especially Superman, I know better than to dabble in comic books again.

Weird Sadness

Allison's been served.  That means that our divorce is finally moving forward.  This is something that I've been working towards for months.  I've had several confirmations from the Spirit that this divorce is needed and necessary and I've been frustrated with the delays we've had with making this happen.

So, imagine my surprise that when I had finished making arrangements with Allison for her to receive the summons, that I broke down crying.  After all the pain and frustration I've already experienced, I didn't think I had any tears left.

This is another reminder that love is complicated.  You hurt someone and they hurt you and they hate you and you can't help but get angry when you talk to them and the best thing for both of you is to end your relationship, but you're still sad to see them go.  You remember how they laughed at your jokes and how they pushed you to be a better student and how the smell of their mouth was the most wonderful aroma you've ever experienced.  Despite all of the reasons that prove you need to go your separate ways, you're still sad about it and wish it could have ended differently.

Not knowing how to process these feelings, I shared them with Allison.  She confessed that she was sad too, adding that it was "weird."  Yeah, after all this time, it is weird to feel sad about getting divorced.  Weird, but, again, for the best.

Day of Unremembrance

Saturday was the sixth anniversary of the day that Allison and I married.  I have some mixed feelings about that.

On the one hand, it's a reminder that, despite all of the effort we both put in, our marriage failed.  On the other hand, if I forgot the date of one of the major events in my life thus far, I guess that means I'm moving on.

I suppose then that it's appropriate that I recently refiled for divorce.  I made some mistakes about how I handled the first filing (including taking too long to respond), but I think I've worked out the kinks this time.  The good people of Howard County, Maryland (the county I was living in when I filed) were even nice enough that they didn't charge me a new fee for refiling, which certainly helped.

Divorce is weird, so hopefully this chapter of my life will soon be finished and I'll be able to start the next one.  [Spoilers: I hear the next chapter has romance!]

*"unremembrance" is a recognized, English word, just an infrequently used one

Tick Tock

Yesterday was my father's 65th birthday.  It's nice that he's still so clear-minded at this age when so many other people lose their mental clarity as they get older.

His age got me thinking, and even got me to do some math: I, his third-born child, was born before he was thirty-three.  I'm thirty-two and and am still without children.  For those of you playing at home, that means my dad was well into having his family going by the time he was my age and I have to start over.

Now, I don't generally get existential.  I have little tricks to ease me into my birthday so it doesn't hit me all at once and even with the white hair in my beard and sideburns, I still look younger than I am (or so people tell me).  So imagine my surprise when I suddenly felt extremely old not on my birthday, but on my dad's.

This is not to say that I wish that Allison and I had had kids while we were trying to work things out.  Our divorce is going to be easier than it could have been because we only have to deal with each other.  And while I still hold to the fact that I don't regret the relationship I had with Allison, I also know that it's the best thing for both of us to get divorced.

But I'm really starting to feel my biological clock ticking.  I've always wanted kids, but now that desire is getting stronger.  I love my nieces and nephews and I even like (most of) my friends' kids, so I'm being reminded regularly that I'm not a dad yet.  And even if I meet the next Mrs. Larsen right after the divorce is finalized, we have to take into account courting and preparing the wedding, plus just being married for a little bit before we bring another life into the world, and we're looking at least a couple of years before I can add a new branch on my family tree.

Despite my frustration, I trust that the Lord is leading me in the right direction.  I just hope I don't have learn a new appreciation for patience before I get there.

Not That Girl

Divorce is hard.  You have to admit to yourself that the person that was once your best friend should be permanently removed from your life.  You try to be calm and civil, but there are so many confusing emotions that you sometimes scream obscenities at your spouse.  They're probably doing the same thing, too, but that's no excuse.

During what we've gone through so far, it's been hard to have to talk to Allison to discuss how we'll end things.  We've both said that we want the other person to be happy, but we've also both screamed at the other for being the reason we have to get divorced.  Like I said, divorce is hard.

Last Saturday, Allison left me voicemail to give me an update.  Towards the end, she said something that was really poignant: "You have to have someone that's into your kind of lifestyle and I'm not that girl."  She's referring to the fact that she doesn't support my membership in the Church.  I know that she stopped attending Church years ago, but I was committed to her and I told her that even if she didn't attend Church with me, I would stay by her side.  The reality is that when you're a faithful member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it affects every aspect of your life.  If your spouse doesn't agree with your faith, she won't agree with the majority of how you live your life.

Allison and I are both sad that things ended the way that they have and we'll both miss having the other as our best friend, but we also see that we have different priorities and goals, some of which are in conflict with each other.  It's too bad that we need to get divorced, but it's what needs to happen.

Metaphor

Another story that I wrote some time ago.  When I wrote it, I had just had my seizure and was still coming to terms with what had happened.  In an attempt to better see things from her perspective, I wrote this story from Allison's perspective.  Like with the other story, I changed the details, but the basic story is biographical.

Parable

I wrote today's story over a year ago.  I wrote it to help me better understand the struggle of having someone close to you dealing with something as terrible as addiction.  Now with major changes happening in my life, I wanted to share why things lasted as long as they did when it was pretty obvious that we were headed to ruin.

What Do You Do?

What do you do when you have a heated discussion with your estranged wife over the terms of your divorce that eventually breaks down into talking about all of the reasons your marriage has failed?  And what do you do when that conversation changes direction and you learn that despite all of your time apart, she still loves you?  And then what do you do when you realize for the first time that you didn't know if she still loved you after all this time?  And what do you do when you know that despite the fact that you still love her and she still loves you that you're not good for each other and that you should still get divorced?

You cry.  You cry hard and you cry bitterly.

Divorce: The Good Times

I wanted to have one post dedicated to the all of the positive things that happened in my life because of Allison, so here goes:

• I've never laughed as much with anyone else in my entire life.  Allison could have a great sense of humor at times and we loved to laugh together.
• I had my first major breakdown while I was dating Allison.  I started having very strong panic-attacks and I stopped going to all of my classes, which I ended up failing.  She helped me to calm down and get back to school.
• Speaking of school, I am confident that I would not have finished my degree without her support.
• Did you know that she helped me develop a sense of style?  I never really knew what kinds of clothes to wear, but she helped to steer me in the direction that led to what I still wear today.  I was careful to put that she "helped me" rather than she "told me" because she didn't dictate to me what I should wear, she just refined the style that I had but was buried under indecision and a lack of focus and having a defined style is great for one's self-esteem.
• She taught me the value of good gift-giving.  Allison is amazing at giving gifts and despite how things may appear, some of that rubbed off on me.
• I got to have several iterations of beards and mustaches with her.  Very few women actually like facial hair on men, so I appreciate that she liked it when I experimented with mine.
• I really learned to listen to the Spirit because of her.  I realize that this one is more "in spite of her" but the strongest and clearest revelations I have ever received in my life were in response to prayers concerning her, including if I should marry her.
• I learned how to really work.  Once I was supporting a wife, putting my all into my job really became a priority.  Before that, "doing enough" was my general outlook.
• I learned to manage money.  During part of the time that we were dating, I went really far into my overdraft simply because I didn't want to check my account balance because it gave me anxiety.  That's really stupid, but Allison taught me that financial management doesn't have to be stressful.
• I learned how to love another person and how I want to be loved by them.

Divorce is hard enough so I wanted to take some time to focus on the positive things that happened in my failed marriage.  I'm glad that I did so that I can look back and see that even though it ended in divorce, this marriage was still worthwhile.

Divorce [UPDATE]

UPDATE:
Because Allison and I have only just started the process of getting divorced, I will hold off on posting this week's essays until everything has been finalized.  I doubt any of my words could be used against me, but it's better to play it safe.

ORIGINAL POST:
All of my regular readers should now know that Allison and I have decided to get divorced.  It wasn't easy for me to accept, but I know it needs to happen.

Allison and I have been together for about nine-and-a-half years with four years of dating, two-and-a-half years of marriage, and three years of separation. That means that I've spent nearly a third of my life with her attached to me in some way, though the last third of that time was spent with us separated.

One thing that I want to make clear is that I do not regret my relationship with Allison.  Things weren't always easy with her, but they never are in love.  I'm sad that things couldn't work out, but I do not feel that my time with her was wasted.

Since we only just decided to get divorced last week, we haven't moved forward to file yet, though that will happen very soon.  I will do my best to make the split as amicable and pain-free as possible -- there will probably be posts with updates of our progress.

So, the rest of this week will be dedicated to some essays regarding my marriage and divorce.  And since I missed two days last week since I was reeling from the decision, I'll be posting all five weekdays.  They will mostly be contemplative, but I'm sure some emotion will find its way in.

Elephant in the Room

Today, July 11, 2014, Allison and I have been married for five years.  We've been separated for roughly half that time.

It's awkward talking to people since the fact that I'm married and separated eventually comes up.  I don't hide either that I'm married or that said marriage is estranged, but I rarely delve into anymore detail than that.  It's difficult for me, playing things so close to the vest: I'm usually a pretty open guy, but somethings aren't appropriate to share with the public, so I usually end up saying something stupid and vague like "it's complicated," which offers no real information.

Every couple goes through tough times, but being separated for nearly half your marriage is downright torturous.  I recently shared more details with a friend and he stared at me, nearly slack-jawed, and said, "I don't know how you manage.  If I had to go through that, I'd be a wreck."  It was a nice sentiment: I'm so accustomed to my situation, I sometimes forget what I'm really dealing with.

I don't write a lot about our separation, nor do I often talk about it.  I know that my friends and family worry about me and probably want more updates on our situation than I give but sometimes staying silent is best for all us.  I respect and appreciate the fact that everyone pretty much let's me be the one who decides when I share things and how much I say on the matter.  Believe me, I'm more frustrated about than anyone, which is why I often need to focus on other matters in which I am in more control.

Today's a weird day, but, if I'm being honest, all days are at least a little weird.

Opposing Advice

After my post on Monday, I've heard from some people offering support for what I'm going through.  The two people that have been the most vocal have been my mother and my estranged wife, both offering advice from an experienced perspective and each taking a different stance.

My mom encouraged me to talk to my doctor and to see if I can get help.  She also pointed out that our family has a history of anxiety and depression, so I am predisposed to this condition.  She reminded me that if I am suffering from depression due to a chemical imbalance that getting treatment is a much better solution than seeking out destructive behavior as a means to "self-medicate."

Allison gave me a pep talk and told me to remember that the problems I face and the sadness I feel are all in my mind.  She told me to look to a power greater than myself to find strength (it reminded me a lot of Alma 37:47) and that while the path of medication is easier, it's not better.  She's concerned that if I start taking anti-depressants, that I won't be able to function unmedicated.  She admonished me to take things slow and to be careful about jumping into treatment.

Again, both of these women have struggled with depression in their own way and they are talking to me from a place of experience.  Also, they know me better than probably any other people on the face of the earth, so it's not just generalized advice.  And yet, they each are taking diametrically opposed positions on the subject.

For now, I'm kind of listening to both of them. I have scheduled a doctor's appointment for next week, but I want to talk to him about options before I run and go fill a prescription.  I appreciate the fact that I may be able to correct the potential chemical imbalance in my brain on my own, but I may also need some help.  For now, I need to gather information and ponder the matter prayerfully.

Personal Totems

The standard definition of a totem is an item of spiritual significance, although the word has sort of been adopted by the secular world to simply refer to an item that is of personal significance to a particular individual.  I've been thinking lately about the fact that, whenever I leave the house, I make sure that I have ten items with me.  While there are exceptions, like when I go for a run or have to head to the ER, if I'm not at home, I will always have these ten things on my person.

1. Belt

I bought this belt while I was serving my mission from a genuine Amish tanner.  It is the highest quality belt I have ever owned and even though I had to add two new holes to it to continue wearing it, I refuse to even entertain the notion of going belt shopping.  Not that it needs replacing, mind you.  Even after over a decade of constant use, it shows only minimal signs of wear.

2. Pendant

When Ian returned home from one of his tours of duty, he brought me back a pendant carved out of camel bone.  I was surprised since I'm not one for jewelry, but I was touched that he took the trouble to get me something personal.  Ever since then, I've worn the necklace as a way of symbolizing my family.  I think it's appropriate that when it hangs from my neck, the pendant rest near my heart.

3. Hair-tie/Bracelet

Before I moved to Maryland, I was growing my hair out.  It was Allison's idea, but I thought it might be fun and since I was just working a retail job, I figured it wouldn't hurt my job prospects.  I had just grown my hair long enough that it was starting to become unruly, so I asked Allison one day if she had an extra hair-tie.  She had one on her wrist that she gave me.  I got a haircut almost as soon as I arrived in Maryland, but I kept the hair-tie.  I now wear it like a bracelet around my right wrist as representation of my separation with Allison, as much our marital separation as our physical separation.

4. Watch

When I first entered the mission field, I bought a nice bracelet-style watch off an Elder that would soon be returning home.  It was a nice watch and I got a good deal on it.  Afterwards, it was one of only a few things stolen when my parents' home was broken into.  I went a while without a watch, not really planning on when, or even if, I would replace it.  Allison took the decision away from me when she gave me my current watch as a birthday present one year.  It's a Fossil, the same brand and style of the last one, even the same color.  It was touching that she paid such close attention to the details, but simply the gift itself was already thoughtful enough.

5. Wallet

I have owned this wallet since sometime in high school.  It's not that it's in such great condition, like with my belt - it isn't falling apart, but there is at least one seam that's completely missing along with some other areas where it's been beaten up a bit.  No, the biggest reason that I haven't replaced it is that I hate wallet shopping.  All I want is what I already have, just new.  I don't like reorganizing my various cards and identifications, so having a wallet where everything is where it's supposed to be is really convenient.

6. Cell Phone

Of course I carry a cell phone with me.  However, I have yet to change over to having a smart phone.  I know once I do, there's no turning back, but, honestly, I like having a small phone that fits next to my fat wallet.  My current phone makes calls and can send and receive texts, though I can't send pictures from it, even though I can receive them.  Huh.  Well, it works for my needs.

7. Car Keys

I really should call it my car key, singular, since there's only one key on this ring.  I have a few "shopping club" cards on there, my vial of consecrated oil, my flash drive, and the item that I use nearly as much as my car key: nail clippers (I get a lot of hang nails).

8. House Keys

This time it really is keys, plural.  I am so paranoid of locking myself out of my apartment that when ever I leave, I catch the door with my shoe until I am physically touching the keys with my hand (which now a move committed to muscle-memory).  I keep the house keys separate so that when I go running, I can cut down on extra weight by not having my other keys with me.

9. Lip Balm

When I was a child, I licked my lips so constantly, I would not only chap my lips, but also the area right above my lips, resulting in a patch of red right under my nose that would turn brown as it healed - I remember a handful of times when someone would ask me how I could have a mustache when I was so young.  The only solution to stop me was lip balm: not only would the balm taste bad, but it kept my lips moist enough that I didn't need to lick them.  Ever since I started going to public school again at age 11, I've made sure to always have lip balm with me.  I prefer a particular brand these days, but I usually pull the label off since I like the aesthetic of a plain white tube.

10. Wedding Band

The only time I take my ring off is when I go running.  I've lost enough weight since I picked it out that it rattles a bit but it still fits well enough during my regular activities that it isn't worth getting it resized, at least not yet.  While it's obvious what my wedding band represents, I'll simply say that I had a particular style in mind when  I went ring shopping with Allison in the weeks leading up to the wedding and I was pleased to find exactly what I was looking for with this ring.

So there you have it.  Many of the items listed here are practical, some are sentimental, and a few are both.  While I am not a materialistic person, these are ten items that I refuse to be without.

Two Years

Today is weird day for me.  It is both Allison's birthday and the two year anniversary of our separation.

I've avoided the subjects of Allison and our separation on this blog because it's so complicated.  While I have written about serious things like my depression, that only involves me.  I don't have to worry about what I should or should not share when I'm only writing about myself, but once we bring someone else into it, I have to think about if I'm crossing a line that I shouldn't.  Even when I wrote about Ian's fondness for Coke over Pepsi, I got his permission.  Not being in regular contact with my estranged wife makes it difficult to feel comfortable writing about us because I would have to also write about her.  However, today is different, so I will address our separation, if only briefly.

Allison made a lot of sacrifices for me when we got married.  I picked the University that I wanted to attend and she went along with it, despite the fact that for her degree in Sociology, she could have studied practically anywhere.  We were also really poor, especially that last year together, living on food stamps, trips to the Bishop's Storehouse, and my meager wages from IHOP.  All of that put a lot of stress on our marriage.  When we first got married, we talked about how foolish it was that most people got divorced due to financial reasons, but after over two years of struggling to pay our bills, the stress was just too much.  Money troubles don't ruin marriages, they cause stress-levels to skyrocket which ruins marriages.  Think of it this way: constant stress puts an extreme strain on any relationship and money woes cause more stress than just about anything else.  I always had a good attitude and would say that once we graduated, things would improve.  Then I failed 20th Century British Literature due a single missed assignment and couldn't graduate on time.  All of the stress and money woes of the past year came to a head and something had to give.  Unfortunately, that something was us living together.

I prayed hard about if we should get separated and the Spirit confirmed that we should, but I felt comforted that that was not the end of our marriage.  It was still very difficult to drive Allison to the airport so that she could to go back to stay with her folks, but I was comforted that the Lord knew what He was doing.  Since that time, I have asked for further instruction and been told to simply wait.  I have been ready to move on, but Heavenly Father has made it clear that things are not over.  Please don't think that I am being naive in hanging onto a failed marriage.  I am simply following directions that I have received from the Lord.

Today is still a weird day, but I am happy that I wrote about this difficult and complicated subject.  It was oddly cathartic.

"Neither do I condemn thee ..."

I've been thinking a lot about my post from a little while back, about how I used to be a jerk.  In particular, I've thought about the process that's led me to a better person; in other words, the lessons that I've learned.  Reflecting on this has led me to one important lesson: the importance of accepting people without agreeing with their choices.

When Allison and I first got married, we were both active in the church.  Unfortunately, Allison's testimony wasn't strong enough to withstand our move to Oklahoma and she stopped attending within a few weeks of our arrival to the state.  This was difficult for me, since my faith is such a big part of who I am.  There were several times that I sat down with Allison to convince her that she needed to go back to church, but she fought back, giving reasons why she didn't believe anymore.  Eventually, all of this came to a head when she told me that she would never go back to church and I needed to decide if I was willing to stay married to her if that was the case.  I realized that even though things were very different from what I had expected, she was my wife and that I needed stand by her, even if that meant that we no longer shared the same religious beliefs.  Obviously, other problems arose and we got separated.  While I wish this wasn't the case, I can't change what's happened.  But even though Allison and I disagree on certain parts of the other's lifestyle, I still accept her as an individual.

This lesson was very difficult for me to learn, but once I understood it, it really hit home.  It hurt to see Allison leave the church, but all I could do was either cut her from my life or accept that she had changed and still love her anyway.  I chose the latter.

This lesson reminds me of how our Heavenly Father must look upon each of us: He allows no sin, but He still loves each of his children.  When we sin, He is disappointed in us and will urge us to do better, but He leaves the decision up to us; we simply have to face the consequences of our actions.  I'm glad that I now see that showing warmth and kindness to someone does not necessarily mean that I condone their actions, simply that I respect their agency.

Me, Circa 2009

When I was in my first semester at OSU, I took one of my favorite classes: Advanced Composition.  Among our assorted assignments was one where we had to email everyone in the class regularly with a writing sample that was at least 100 words long.  I never deleted any of the emails I sent or received and I spent some time recently going over what I wrote about four years ago and I wanted to discuss the ways in which I'm now a different person.

I complained.  A lot.  I didn't like Stillwater, I didn't like the younger people I was going to school with, I didn't like the cultural differences of Oklahoma, I didn't like how much I worked (now I can't get enough work), etc.  It's really a shame and I hope that I don't come off as that negative now.

I had more frequent spelling errors in my writing.  I'm not perfect and I still make mistakes, but I feel like I catch more of them these days.

I was funnier.  Maybe I was more relaxed, but made a lot more jokes.  Not all of them were funny, but I tried more often than I do now.  That makes me a bit sad.

I must not have been afraid of offending anyone, because I was crass.  I pointed out the racism I had observed since moving to Oklahoma (and most of the kids in the class were native Oklahomans) and I teased people that liked the Twilight books (at least four girls in my class admitted that they enjoyed them).  While those aren't terrible, I was shocked at how brazen I was.

I liked to give unsolicited advice.  Do I still do that?  I hope not, or at least that I don't do it often.  I think I assumed that since I was older that I could help the "poor kids" I was in class with (I was really full of myself).

I wrote a lot about how much I loved Allison.  I know we were newlyweds, but it was still sweet to see the strong affection that I shared multiple times (I even said that one of my favorite moments was our first dance at our wedding, something that hasn't changed).  I still love Allison, but I've rarely written about it since our separation; maybe I should change that.

In one of the emails, I found an early draft of my shoe story and it really did get better by having one of my classmates review it.  It's a reminder that I should write more stories and that I should make revisions to them, too.

All in all, I really don't think I'd like me from four years ago if I met him today.  I've had a lot of "real world experience," as Dad calls it, during that time and it's really had a powerful impact on me in how I see the world and interact with people.  But I've also had some professional writing experience and that seems to have made my creative writing style drier and less witty, which I don't like.  Still, I'll take being a better, more positive person over being funny.

Delayed Reaction

As you may recall, the allergist I saw told be to take Zyrtec daily to control my allergy symptoms for the time being.  That was pretty terrible since it made me so drowsy that I was barely fulfilling my responsibilities at work.  So I called him and said that I needed an alternative.  He told me to come and pick up a sample of a nasal spray that I could try out that wouldn't make me drowsy.  So I went and picked it.

While I was there, I pointed out to the doctor that one of the places that I was injected with allergen hadn't gone down all the way yet.  Because the nurses in his office are very good about placing each allergen in a particular spot, he was able to identify what caused the reaction simply by looking at where it was located on my arm.

I had a delayed reaction to cockroach.  I asked if it was a particular part of the cockroach, like it's skin, or if I was allergic to its feces.  I'm allergic to all things cockroach: skin, scales, feces, eggs, etc.  And, the doctor pointed out, I don't have even touch them to react.  I could be inhaling various bits of cockroach, along with dust mites and mold.  Gross.

I guess I'm lucky that things that I reacted to the most strongly are nasty and I don't want to be around anyway.  I would be terrible to be allergic to sunshine or Allison.