Reverb10: Beautifully Different

**Update from Drag Queen Bingo last night**
Last night was far tamer than I was expecting but still a lot of fun. I won!!! Someone got bingo before me in the second round but Miss Anastasia Beaverhausen, the resident drag queen and number caller, said she would do a second place winner if they could correctly answer one of her Drag Trivia Questions. The question was, "In what year did Prince Charles marry Diana Spencer? The hit single of that year was Olivia Newton John's, "Let's Get Physical"." After performing some quick calculations I shot my hand in the air and got it right. Does anyone else know what year it was? So yeah, I went up on stage, feeling totally embarrassed and I got to pick out a prize after Anastasia sized me up and I laughed nervously with my hands in my pockets. Not my smoothest moment.

As for today's prompt, they sure aren't pulling any introspective punches. I'm just gonna copy and paste today's:"Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)". It's these sorts of prompts that stump me. I'll give it a go though.

I think perhaps what makes me different, maybe not from my friends but at least from the general public, is my attitude of everything is fair game when it comes to humor. Nothing is off limits when it comes to jokes between friends. During the summer after college when T-Welsh was living in the 438, she said, "inappropriate" more often than any other word. It's just what I do. While some may see my jokes as being grossly insensitive, I actually think they reflect a deep sensitivity. Making fun of things is a way for me to circumvent actually contemplating how horrible things can be. If I make a joke about DADT, I was gonna dress up in fatigues this year for Halloween and grope other men, then I don't have to consider the incredible hypocrisy and injustice inherent in living in a country that doesn't even value you enough to let you die for it. I'm an all or nothing kind of guy so either I have to make light of everything or I have to sink into depression because when you really think about it, there is a lot in this world to feel sad about.

This prompt reminds me of a night back in freshman year at Madison. I was reading for class and there was this photo in one of the chapters. Even now looking at it makes me really upset as I'm sure it makes many of you. It is because of the realities of life and the world that I respond with inappropriateness. It's my version of the church giggles.

I don't know if being ridiculously inappropriate makes me beautiful, but I do think my capacity for empathy and sensitivity does.

Reverb10: Community

Well I missed yesterday's prompt but I haven't made anything in the last year since I'm not very craftsy. Today's is about communities, one's that I have found and which ones would I like to discover/join. This is a prompt that I can relate to.

The community I have found this year is a great one. Nerds. As many of my close college friends can attest to, I'm a huge nerd. If given the chance I would talk about science/psychology for days on end. While most people's eyes glaze at the first mention of the pros and cons of typical versus atypical antipsychotics, my community here at Vanderbilt is all about that shit. When Gina came to visit, we went over to a friend of mine's place for dinner. As we enjoyed our pizza, the topic turned to the use of imaging tools in research and the methodological concerns inherent in using such a technique. Clearly this devolved into a nerd chat of epic proportions. Gina handled it with kindness and understanding when she didn't immediately leave for cooler pastures. I'm incredibly lucky to have the chance to be surrounded by people who get as excited about their research as I do about mine. It seems almost criminal that I get paid to research/study that which I find most interesting.

On to the community I would like to discover. I would like to become more involved in the LGBT community here in Nashville. It's somewhat sad that I don't even really know what the community is like because I have yet to make a concerted effort to explore it. It's so easy to let everything else in life fill up your time which makes it easy to write off putting in the effort in getting out there. There is even a group here on campus for professional and graduate students and I have yet to go to one event. Therefore one goal for 2011 will be to explore that community and see if it has anything to offer me and vice versa. I am dipping my toe into that pool tonight though; I'm going to Drag Queen Bingo. Now that's a community event I can get behind.

Reverb10: Let Go

So I figured I would try to do as many prompts from this Reverb thing that I can. I tried yesterday but I couldn't think of anytime this past year I cultivated wonder in my life. Introspection doesn't work that way for me. Today's prompt: what (or who) have I let go of this past year?

It isn't complete but I think I'm starting to let go of needing to compare myself constantly to other people. Either in school or out and about, I usually find myself comparing who I am to who I perceive other people are. In my program, there is no explicit ranking of the grad students but within my first semester, I took care of that on my own. I am constantly updating and shifting the positions of my peers on my so called productivity list. Why do I feel the need to do this? In a way it seems to keep me productive because I don't want my position to slide to far down the ladder. Don't worry this isn't an ego boost either, I'm not even at the top of my own ranking list.

When it comes to other areas of life, I'm always acutely aware of what everyone else is doing around me. I'm critiquing other people's outfits, the way they talk, what they are doing, and just generally how they present themselves. I like to think this is just a love of people watching but truly, it's a double edged sword. Just as I'm judging the guy with the neon green windbreaker I'm thinking, "shit, I hope my jacket is fitted correctly" or "how's my posture and gait?". See when you are constantly watching other people, you yourself feel constantly watched. It seems logical to think, if I'm judging everyone else, aren't they all judging me?

Therefore in these past few months I've tried to stop judging. Trying to go cold turkey is too difficult but I'm easing off bit by bit. By doing this I've found I'm not as anxious in public as I used to be. The spotlight on my every move isn't as bright as it used to be. Sure I still get those moments where it seems like everyone in Starbucks is watching me mix my drink and thinking, "Ooh Sweet and Low? He must not know about the rats getting brain cancer." So at the back end of 2010, I've let go of comparisons and tried to learn to be ok with who and what I am. That's some deep shit.

I

I is for Inebriated.

This past weekend I went down to New Orleans to visit a friend that is doing a month long internship down there. My friend Nick and I made the 8+ hour drive down to NOLA, which stands for New Orleans, LA, (this blew my mind by the way), on Friday afternoon and arrived around 8. The drive down was fun, I made an epic playlist and we chatted the entire time. I won't go into too much detail about the trip but I will say that New Orleans is a beautiful city unlike anywhere else I have been to. It has such a rich culture and unique feel. Some of the houses down there had me dumbstruck by their magnificence. Beautiful front porches, vibrant colors, Shotgun houses, all of them so different from what anything I have seen prior. I got to try the traditional creole dishes, crawfish etouffee, jumbalaya, and gumbo. Each one more flavorful than the last. I also had more than my fair share of their famous drink, the Hurricane. The French Quarter was equal parts tacky and awesome. I felt like I was in Moulin Rouge. Although that may have been due in part to the fact that I was three sheets to the wind within in 30 minutes of getting there.

Prior to moving to Nashville and actually meeting people who had been to New Orleans, I had never entertained the idea of visiting. To me, New Orleans meant Mardi Gras and while I enjoy a party, that just seems too hardcore for me. It just goes to show that moving to Nashville has opened me up to opportunities I might not have had otherwise. I may not love Nashville all the time, and the greater South even less, but this move has been a definite net positive.

H

H is for Hearts of Palm.

So hearts of palm, has anyone eaten them? I had them for the first time last night and they were freaking delicious. I went over to a friend's house last night for dinner since she had gotten back into town after visiting her friends and was feeling a little friend-sick. I told we should have a low-key night to stave off any sad feelings of leaving her best friends. She is vegan so she said that she would make a big salad for dinner. While I knew the company would be great, a salad? Come on?!?

Well the salad was delicious and really filling. Turns out that putting a lot of different things into a salad that are healthy doesn't preclude tastiness. Let's see, the salad had avocado, tomato, green pepper, chickpeas, hearts of palm, and this tofu thing called Tempe. She also made a simple vinaigrette that consisted of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, dijon mustard, salt and pepper.

This whole post must read like I have never experienced vegetables but I kinda haven't. To me, vegetables are something you kind of have to put up with. I never really considered the possibility that they could genuinely be tasty. Whenever I heard people say they loved vegetables I thought they were just putting on airs. Like someone who says they are a morning person. After that salad, which I recreated tonight, I may consider myself one of the converted. We shall see.

G

G is for Gadgets.

I recently got a new phone, an Evo 4G, and I've become kind of obsessed. The people in my lab could vouch to how much time I spend playing around with it when I should be doing work. Ever since I was a little kid I've always wanted the newest and coolest toy, much to the detriment of my dad's wallet. This is gonna make me sound like a terrible person but one of my clearest memories of childhood is throwing a tantrum in a Toys R Us because my dad wouldn't budge on getting me an action figure. At the time it felt like my life would end if he didn't get me that toy.

Now looking back I'm glad my dad wasn't the type to just given in to his bratty son (in my defense that was a rare occurencec and you should have seen my older brother as a kid). While I still have my Veruca Salt moments, I learned that sometimes you don't get what you want. It's ok though, I don't think anyone's died from it yet.

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F

Is for F****t.

As with other words of it's ilk, this F-word is rife with controversy. I'm not going to write it because it is offensive to some and I don't see the need to repeatedly type it. Admittedly, my feelings towards it are somewhat ambivalent. When I first came out, I was vehemently opposed to it. I thought that it was a terrible word that had no place in intelligent conversation. Luckily I've only been called it, in malice, once by a homeless man. Due to his situation in life, I didn't really care all that much. I think not having a place to live trumps being called a nasty word.

Lately I have been finding the humor in this word. There is something deliciously naughty about using it among select company. A few weeks ago I called my brother and when he answered I said, "Hey f****t." He feigned insult and I found it to be hilarious. I know there are arguments for and against 'taking back' a word but the people who are argue it are usually insufferable. Without sounding insufferable myself, how do you argue free speech?

As I think about it, my newfound use of this word is related to the self-confidence I have developed in who I am. I've reached a point in my life where my sexual orientation is something so uninteresting that, to me, that word doesn't really have much of an effect. I know other people are offended by and offend with it but I don't think I really care. Granted I haven't been called a f****t recently by anyone who hated gay people but unless there was a fist following its utterance I'm fairly certain I would just let it roll off me. Their bigotry and ignorance is their own thing. They can live their life in some closeted turmoil (which is more than likely the case with though homophobes). I'm perfectly content with my interest in other dudes. If other people have a problem with it, they should stop being such f****ts.

E

E is for Energy

This is gonna be a relatively short post because I really want to get to F. Rather than some long introspective post I kinda want to ask a question that probably doesn't have an answer. Why is it that you can feel totally wiped out and then a song comes on that refills your battery stores? It's fairly well known that I dig dance/electronic music. My roommates used to marvel and make fun of how I would do homework to the likes of Madonna, the Scissor Sisters and assorted remixes. Rather than distract me, the heavy up tempo beat kept me from falling asleep and drooling on my book. Full disclosure, I'm listening to Kylie Minogue's newest album as I type this.

To me, music must perform a function. If I feel like bouncing around having a good time, I listen to the artists listed above. If I'm feeling down and sorry for myself, it's Bright Eyes, The XX, and Elliot Smith. When I'm feeling at peace with life and the world there is only one band that works: Deathcab for Cutie. I find it hard to understand people who only subscribe to one genre of music. Are they really that flat? Within a single day I can find reasons to crisscross genres repeatedly. You should all go check out this website Stereo Mood, it creates playlists based on your mood. Pretty darn nifty.

Shit, what am I gonna use for M now?

D

D is for Despicable.

Last night I saw Despicable Me with a friend of mine. It was pretty cute and there were some hilarious scenes. While standing in line waiting to buy my ticket, there were a couple of teenagers who were turned away because they weren't old enough to see Predators without a legal guardian. As I watched them, I was hit with a strong feeling of being present. All at once I was aware that I was 24 years old, living in Nashville, going to graduate school with the intent of becoming a psychologist. Not to sound hyperbolic but it felt as if I was waking up from a coma. I imagine it was a variation to what people describe when they are middle-aged and suddenly questioning where the past 20+ years went.

To be fair, I think this realization was slowly building over the week. I don't know if it is a result of blogging more than usual (re: blogging at all) or becoming reinvigorated with my love of research but I have been feeling calmer and more aware than I have in a long time. Life has a way of dulling our senses. As days go by you start to run on cruise control. It isn't automatically a bad thing, rather a simple fact of life that we put on the blinders to our surroundings.

Let's be honest, if memoirists actually chronicled their day to day lives, their works would be as boring as paint drying. The success of this genre is due to their ability to distill those moments that shock us out of cruise control into hilarious and poignant short stories or novels. Maybe my return to blogging is helping me become more conscious of when these "shock" moments happen.

C

C is for Cardio.

So yesterday I tried to blog from my new phone (Evo 4G) but I wasn't able to type in the dialog box after putting in the title. Chalk that up as a 'pro' for the iPhone. Also, I couldn't figure out how to delete the post so my newest post was an ominous 'C'.

I went to the gym for the first time in over a month yesterday and my body was initiating a revolt against exercise within 10 minutes. I hate the first few weeks of starting to work out again. It never is easy and you look like you are about to die while running or ellipticalling(totes a word).

Also, it should be known that I'm a sweater. This poses an issue here in good ole muggy Nashville. I walk outside for more than 5 minutes and I start feeling flop sweat dripping down my neck. So you can imagine the drenching I receive when I get my blood really pumping.

This is all meant to get to the point that beginning a workout regimen sucks. Yay healthy lifestyle.

B

Is for Buffeted.

Last night before I went to bed I thought I would be able to knock out a couple of posts during the day or at least mentally prepare them. My agenda for work consisted of running analyses on some fMRI data for a conference she is attending. Well that wasn't exactly in the cards.

What was supposed to be a relaxing day in front of the computer turned into a mad dash to keep one of our large studies from being shut down by the review board, babysitting a high schooler who is working in our lab, and a few other odd tasks around the office. I'm not the best at handling stress when I'm around other people. I get short with them if I feel they aren't performing to a level I expect from them. The thing is, when stressed out, I expect people to immediately fix whatever is wrong. Hence my getting irritated with anyone I come into contact with. Because of all this, I prefer to excuse myself and deal with whatever it is that needs to get done. Unfortunately today I was required to work with and around other people while as my stress level spiked.

As most people who know me well can attest to, I can't hide my emotions to save my life. My dad can tell within seconds during a phone call if I'm down or particularly excited about something. I'm an open book for better or worse.

After the fires were put out, I went with one of the Seniors in the lab to get a soda and I told her all about my stress response and how I tried to keep it inside so as to not blow up at anyone today. I was feeling pretty good since I felt I had actually handled today better than I normally would. To confirm my internal observations of budding maturity I asked her if she thought I was at all short today. She responded, "Oh don't worry Joel. You weren't like a total asshole or anything."

Awesome. Baby steps, I guess.

A

Is for Appetite.

It has been quite a long time since I have posted on my blog. After some highly aggressive campaigning by G, I decided to cave in and try this July Blogging challenge. I make no guarantees that I will complete it but I will give it a good effort. Maybe it was the nostalgia brought up by reading G's first two posts of the challenge or Kylie's new CD, Aphrodite, but I'm feeling the itch to write and attempt to be clever. Be warned, I'm shooting from the hip with this first post so if it meanders and has no point, get over it.

A is for appetite. When I look back on my 24 years of life I see great times with family, friends and all that good stuff. I also see epic moments of my insatiable appetites. Junior year when I finally got my license and a car, my HS made the school a closed campus. Rather than being able to leave for lunch to a fastfood joint, we had to eat in the cafeteria. I got around that injustice by eating lunch in the cafeteria and then, two periods later, going with friends to on of the many burrito shops around my neighborhood. Fast forward to when I was living in Minneapolis last year, I was placed on Domino's MVP list for carrying them through the Great Recession. I'm still waiting for their call to be the Domino's spokesperson. To sum it up, I have been and always will be a fat kid on the inside (and at times a somewhat round kid on the outside). Unless you have been in this position, you really can't understand what it's like to have that appetite inside you. It can seem at times that there is another person inside me who is never satiated. Call It the Id, call It whatever you want. It's there and It wants a late night snack.

How was that for a my first encyclopedia entry?

The Ivory Tower

Hey y'all! Well I finally got around to putting pictures up of the place where I will be working like a mad man. As you can tell I am not a professional photographer by any stretch of the imagination.

This is where my department is. Pretty huh?

This is their version of Library Mall.

Typical pathway on campus. Huge magnolia trees all over. Someone told me that they have one of each tree found in Tennessee.

I can see this clock tower from my office window. Yeah that's right office.

This is their school of engineering. Very imposing.

Not gonna lie, I would prefer a Caribou.

There you have it folks, a little insight into my life here at school.

No Pictures But Funny Stories

So I have totally been procrastinating on taking the pictures but it's because I have been kinda busy with school stuff. Pretty much every day I have been walking to the psych building to work on old research projects and getting started on new ones. It's great to live within walking distance of the campus but I am finding there are some major downsides as well. Well actually there is only one downside. I never thought of myself as a sweaty person, sure I would sweat when working out but who doesn't? Well I have come to find out that humidity and myself do not get along. While everyone around me looks as cool as a cucumber, I look like someone dropped me into a pool. It has gotten so bad that I have to plan around how sweaty I will get. For example, I had to go into the lab today so that I could get some work done. Also while I was there, I had to meet with the academic coordinator to go over my schedule. I knew that I would be a dripping mess once I got to the building; the walk takes about 20 minutes. I left for the lab early enough so that I could sit in my air conditioned office and dry before heading down to my meeting. This is all fine and dandy now since I have an overabundance of time but once school starts? I foresee having half my wardrobe at school for mandatory costume changes.

I have learned all sorts of things since coming to Nashville. It really is a whole other world from what I am used to. People are surprisingly polite and any women over the age of 35 calls sweetie or hun. Another thing that I have learned; Scientology isn't just for the rich and famous. One day when I was walking to school, already fairly sweaty I might add, I was stopped by three people. They were all dressed in business clothes and looked like they were on campus for a meeting. The leader of the group asked me if I knew where the Student Life Center was because they were part of an education conference that was being held there. Now I haven't been on campus long but I have started to learn my way around. I told here that I did and that I would be walking past it on my way so I told them to follow me. The woman and I made awkward conversation while the other two followed in silence. She was asking me if I was a student and what I was studying. I told her that I was actually a grad student, puffing my chest out a little, and that I was in the clinical psych program. After I had said this, the other two started talking quietly to one another while the woman seemed to intentionally ignore them. She asked, "Oh like psychiatry?" I get this a lot, the confusion of psychology and psychiatry, so I told her no actually. As we were nearing the Student Center I asked what school they were with since they were going to an education conference. The woman said oh we are with the Church of Scientology on 8th, you should stop by, bring friends if you want. I kinda tripped over myself at that point and said oh, well, here is the center have a good day. I booked it as fast as I could. I didn't even know they allowed Scientology in the South.

How Long Has It Been?

The last time I even thought to write on here there was snow piled on the ground and I never thought I would be warm again. Now I am sitting in a coffee shop, in Nashville, afraid to go outside because if I do, I will be drenched in sweat within minutes. I don't know if it is because I have lived in colder climates for the past 5 years but I cannot get over how flipping hot it is outside. People walk down the street in jeans and it blows my mind, how are they not suffering from heat stroke? Supposedly it is pretty bad up in the Cities but I am gonna put my money on it being worse down here.

I moved into my apartment earlier this week and it is pretty nice. The floors squeaked a lot wherever I walked but it didn't bother me too much. Unfortunately the same can't be said for the guy who lives below me. This came to my attention last night while I was talking to my dad on the phone. When I talk on the phone I like to pace around the room rather than just sit in one place. I don't know why I do this, I just do. About midway through the conversation and mid-step, I hear a double bang which seemed to originate from below me. I stoped moving just to see if it would continue, which it didn't, so I started walking again. Then came a single bang, definitely not a coincidence. It was about 10:30 at night so I figured the person below me felt that I should be going to bed when he was. I cry bullshit.

This morning I went down to the office to report that my floor was really squeaky and that I think the guy below me was banging on the ceiling to tell me to stop moving around. The women at the office told me he had come in just earlier to report the same thing. For some reason I feel threatened by this guy. It isn't my fault that the floor is squeaking and I shouldn't be forced to only move around my apartment when it is convenient for him. Either way, they are sending some maintenance people up to my apartment today to fix all the floorboards. Hopefully they will do an adequate job the first time so that my downstairs "neighbor" won't be banging anymore.

Today I think I am going to walk around the campus and take pictures of it so that I can post them on here. I want to give y'all a better idea of what life is going to be like for me here. I won't take any pictures of my apartment just yet because I don't even have my furniture yet so it looks like a crack den.

Because Procrastination Is What I Do

So right now I should be working on slides for a poster that needs to be done by Sunday. Now you may think that that leaves me plenty of time to work on it this week but I have some guests coming into town on Friday so I should really be getting this stuff done. The thing is, I just don't want to work on it. My avoidance is reaching the levels it was at when I was applying to grad school. I have checked every blog I read like 6 times, scoured HuffPo for any interesting news stories, Twittered, and now I am blogging. As a side note, a dude just walked by in jean shorts, ahhh Spring. See, this is how not into doing work right now I am. If I could just get myself to put in some effort for like 2 hours, I know that I could get some quality work done. 

So as I said earlier, I recently starting Twittering and I really think that the format compliments my personality. I am a horrible story teller, either I will start a story that kind of just wanders without an end or it will be a, "you had to be there" story. Therefore, blogging isn't something that comes easy to me. I rarely reread my posts and think, "wow that post flowed so well, and it was funny!" Which brings me back to Twitter, by only being able to write short snippets I don't have to be so worried with where it is going. A quick quip is all that is required rather than a long post filled with funny anecdotes and jokes. This must say something about who I am as a person. 

11:11 Make A Wish

As many of you know by now, a week ago today I found out that I got into grad school. Out of 320 applicants, 3 of us were chosen. It still blows my mind that I was accepted, especially since it seemed that every other applicant was from an Ivy League. Not that Wisconsin is anything to laugh at; our clinical program was/is ranked first in the nation. Too bad that ridiculous amounts of competition and back biting came out of that rating. I think that is what drew me the most to Vanderbilt, all the faculty seemed to genuinely like one another. Rather than viewing another's achievement as a threat, the Vandy profs bragged about their fellow faculty. The financial package that comes with the admission offer isn't something to scoff at either. My schooling will be paid for in full for all five years and I will receive a stipend each year for the nine months I am in school. Dr. Park, the prof I will be working with, said she will cover the other three months with a grant she has. Oh and if that wasn't enough, there is a chance that I could do research in Zurich, Switzerland for a summer. Someone please pinch me because this has to be a dream.

Last night I was driving home from watching the Oscars at Em's house and the clock said 11:11. I am a huge geek so whenever I notice the clock is 11:11 I do the whole, "make a wish" thing. Prior to last week, the wish always was that I hoped I got into grad school. Prior to that it was I hope I do well on the GRE. I am afraid that at my weaker moments I even wished for a boyfriend. Last night though, when it was 11:11 came around, I didn't make a wish. There is nothing that I want right now that I don't already have and that is a pretty darn good feeling. 

Now the only thing that is left is for the weather to turn warm here in the MPLS and rock out all summer long. I foresee another trip to Seattle, drinking around the lakes here (I wonder if they serve beer at the food stand on Lake Calhoun?), and just enjoying myself before I have to dedicate the better half of the next decade to becoming a doctor. 

Domino's MVP

Just when I thought I was getting the hang of making healthy life choices, my dark past has come back to rear its ugly head. Not moments ago, the buzzer to my apartment was rung. Seeing as how this building is too old to have an intercom system I had to hurry down stairs to the front door. When I got there I saw the postman putting today's mail into everyones boxes. He looked up at me and asked, "204?". I responded that I was the tenant at 204 and he hands me my mail saying, " I was able to get the netflix into your box but this wouldn't budge." I was hopeful that maybe it was an envelope from one of the seven other schools I applied to but it was not. No, instead of a letter of acceptance, it was a hard envelope addressed to Domino's Pizza MVP. I cannot tell you how much my heart sank when I read that. I got upstairs and opened it immediately. Inside the hard envelope was another envelope. The second envelope said that something this important required two envelopes. The suspense was killing me so I opened the second envelope and inside it was a letter thanking me for being such a valued customer, and for being such a loyal patron they gave me a free one topping pizza coupon. Now I am sure most of you read this and think wow that is so awesome I wish I received free Domino's coupons in the mail. Just think for the moment though on how much I probably had to spend to reach that level and how much pizza that means I have consumed. I had hoped that by trying to get back into shape I would have left that world behind but it looks like it isn't ready to give me up so easily. 

Up In The Sky! It's A Bird! It's A Plane! It's...

When I look back on my childhood, some of my best memories are of me playing in my room. I was never much of an outdoors kid, preferring to play inside with my toys or read the newest Bailey School Kids book. Of course when I had to I would play outside with the rest of the neighborhood kids, but it was never as fun as when I was by myself. When I played in my room, I could let my imagination run wild. I remember playing with my X-Men action figures for hours creating the most convoluted stories. Sometimes my dad would join me, he always chose to be Cyclops which was totally cool with me since I never really cared for Cyclops. Looking back I know that my dad would have preferred to take me outside and have me work on my swing or catching ground balls. Rather than forcing me to do something I didn't want to do, my dad accepted me for who I was and played action figures with me. That's the thing with my dad, he has always accepted me for who I was rather than expecting me to fit a predetermined role. 

I don't know when I first discovered superheroes but I am forever grateful that I did. These heroes represented everything that I wanted to be and I set out to learn as much about them as I could. I wanted to know how they became who they were so that I could hopefully join their ranks one day. The best thing about the X-Men is that they didn't become superheroes because of some gamma ray accident or being bitten by a radioactive spider. The X-Men were born with their powers. When I went to bed, rather than praying for a new bike or an A on a test, I would pray that I would develop powers. See, the X-Men didn't develop their powers until they were teenagers so from the age of 7 to probably 13 I was still holding out that I would one day be able to fly or freeze things with my touch. Unfortunately I never developed any powers and as I got older I would bring out the X-Men less and less. It seems that along with the toys, my imagination was brought out less and less as well. I used to create entire worlds within my room and these days I have difficulty visualizing an outfit I would want to wear. If your imagination needs to be worked like a muscle to be maintained, then I have let it atrophy. Maybe it is the winter but I feel like when I look around everything seems so boring and plain. What I wouldn't give to be able to look at the world like I used to. Rather than just seeing life as it is, I want to see life as it could be. I don't mean for this to sound like a loss of innocence or something but things seemed so much cooler when I was younger. Who knows maybe those powers are still in me, we Petermans are late bloomers.

Bartender, Gimme A Beer

Those would have been the words I would have said if the airport bar hadn't called last call as I was walking up to the counter. One of the great things about being of age is that you can be tipsy plus on a flight if you want to. I am flying the red eye back to Minneapolis and I wanted a chemical helper in my attempt to get any sleep on this flight. The drinks at the bar for sure would have been cheaper than the five dollars I will have to pay on the flight for a little bottle that wouldn't get my little brothers buzzed. It is a matter of public safety that I get a little sleep on this flight because I am gonna be driving myself home tomorrow morning from the airport. I don't want to be cracked out on lack of sleep and taking the 35W which is best likened to a series of sharp turns coupled with potholes that could double as in ground pools. 

I had a blast being home these past five days. Of course the weather was a much appreciated change from the bitter cold I am returning to. I was able to spend time with my family, go out with my brother, and see a bunch of movies. While the amount of time since I had seen my family last wasn't all that much longer than when I was in school, it was different this time. The time I have spent in Minneapolis has been so different from my time in school, I feel more cut off from my family. There is a greater sense of permanence in Minneapolis than there was in Madison. I have my own apartment, I will be registering my vehicle in the state of Minnesota, and hopefully becoming a member of the service industry soon after getting back. This is a level of reality that never existed in Madison and it is scary. 

I saw some great movies over this trip. I love the fact that during my time in Minneapolis I have seen a total of one movie and during my five day stay in Vegas I saw three. On Christmas Day, my dad, Jordan, and I saw Milk. That was quite the experience to say the least. I got uncomfortable when I saw Old School with my dad and there were boobies shaken all over the place, the idea of sitting next to my dad while Sean Penn and James Franco go at it did not sit well with me. I didn't realize until now the humor in the fact that I saw a movie about a gay rights activist's life on the day Jesus was supposedly born. Something tells me the social justice Jesus would be cool with it while the born again Jesus would damn me to hell all the while secretly wishing he had seen it too. It was a pretty darn good movie, definitely one that I will need to see again to truly decide my thoughts on it. The movie I have no problems rating is The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. This movie was absolutely amazing! It is crazy long (almost 3 hours) but everyone in it is phenomenal. My brother said that it cemented his rule of seeing anything with Brad Pitt in it. In my mind Brad Pitt has definitely moved from just an attractive actor to an attractive actor who has an amazing talent. Also, Cate Blanchett is both stunning and great in the film. I will definitely be buying this movie when it comes out.

I am glad that I stayed in Vegas for as long as I did because it has recharged my batteries. I am ready to get back to Minneapolis and get things in order. While it has been great to sit on my couch and lounge around, I need to get out in the city and meet people. I mean I just watched the premier of The City on MTV tonight and if Whitney Port was able to find a BFF and an aussie boyfriend who might not be ready to settle down than I should be able to do it as well. Hell I am ahead of her I got friends, although to be honest they don't seem nearly as interested in my life as Erin is of Whitney's. If these first two episodes are any indicator of the season then the producers are trying to remove all the silent staring from The Hills with methamphetamine induced speed talking. It is going to be a great season.