128 square feet to Freedom

I have not lived a long time on this planet. So the feelings to have lost something that you once possessed are relatively new for me. I am not talking about losing my teeth, or even my fear of camping in dark forests.

As you grow up you learn lessons. You gain attributes and skills. You get stronger and more independent. You find your own direction and method to get things done. You are adding and adding and maturing.

So this new feeling of noticing that something you depended on has slipped away, is not one i like at all.

To be Free.
The idea of freedom for me, is something so different than the word really relates. When i am free it is because i made the right decision and i will not suffer any pain from a wrong decision. Without that pain to slow me down i am free to do what ever i want for who ever i want. (a humble man would replace the "want's" with "can")

I do not have the same fire and passion for that freedom anymore. I've let so many little things wash it away recently.

It is time to fix that.

Among other more personal parts of my plan, i have a empty wall next to my bed. 16x8 feet. In the bottom right corner, near where my head rests while i sleep there are seven cards. On each of these cards i have written something that my former freedom brought me, the things i miss the most. I plan on tacking up at least one card a day. I would like to cover the 128square feet with reasons to make my freedom, mine.

Now i must decide wither to go scotch tape or thumbtacks.

'91 is 19 backwards

I won't lie i was looking at pictures of a former high school flame. One of the few girls in my memory that actually got more attractive as opposed to more drunk, pregnant, addicted, boring or dead in the six years since we all parted. I am not getting all "just friends ryan reynolds" here wishing it would have played out differently; no need i survived high school and the six years afterwards i shouldn't ask for more. But i looked at some of her pics and was slightly enamored to the point of thinking, "hmmmm how could i swing seeing her again come christmas break?"

The First thoughts that came to me where quite the shockers...

Its been a while since you have ever gone/made/went -out with a girl your age. BOOM

How did i get to the point that i'd have to look into the dating historical annals to figure out the who was the last girl i dated that was within two years of my age? BOOM

Mitch to the best of your knowledge it was WELL OVER 2 YEARS AGO. BAM

Do you even remember what it was like to date someone who wouldn't get carded at a bar? BOOM

so i began to think...

Mitch did it really make that much of a difference when you did date someone who was born before grunge died? In those cases no Mitch they didn't.

Would it make much of a difference in any case? It has the potential to make all the difference, common interests, and some of them must of grown up a bit just like i have, right.

When i reached the conclusion that maybe more mature women may be necessary to my romantic interludes. I immediately posed myself the magic bullet question. Which magically blew my heart out the wrong side of my spine.

So Mitch, where are all the women closer to your age that you could be attracted too?

Oh yeah, all the older mature boys snatched them up when they were 19.

Vexat-, Tribulat-, Redempt-, -ion

I really like the films like, Cinderella Man, Invincible and The Sting. Cinderella Man and Invincible are at their most basic level inspirational sports movies and well Robert Redford ran a lot from mobsters and crooked cops in The Sting. But the sports have really nothing to do it, maybe a little but not too much.

What are the experts calling it now, "growth recession" or even the "BBQ Recovery"?

Low and slow just like the coal grill on the back patio. Stats might (with the right tweaking) be growing but not faster than that nasty inflation. You know that thing that makes the same product more expensive as it just sits there.

We patted ourselves on the back this September, we stayed at 9.1% unemployment. You know i lowered my expectations once to make things look better. She wasn't disgusting but the only thing she had going for her was that she qualified with my hetero-sexual ways, she was a girl.

GOP hopeful's remind me when the first kid got a trampoline on the street. How many kids could we fit on the biggest toy on the block, trying to steal the bounce from each other? Reversely Obams (cute huh?) feels like that QB who couldn't get that 3rd and long conversion all night, his punter must be getting tired.

I rant (Wall Street should choke and die) and I rant (banks are dens of thieves) and I will now get mooshy.

I like those movies because, they are people surrounded by their families whom are surrounded by really dismal economic situations. The world sucked at the start of the film and it sucked at the end. But the characters and their families experienced redemption. Albeit (finally got to use that word) after much cinematic tribulation.

I would wish that the director is getting close to that scene, for us (vague on purpose).

Talkin shop with Pops

I was waiting outside on my older sister’s driveway in Lehi. My cousin was late, we were taking her car back up to Logan for the Homecoming game which I had to work at that night with the rest of the Media Relation minions. I had said goodbye to my family earlier on, because they were still at this crazy mud race in the canyon. I was kind of down that I spent less than 12 hours with them, but I had work to do and that is a priority for me and parents alike. God granted me boon, when my family pulled into the driveway before my cousin.

I was able to hug and kiss my little sisters goodbye and give mom one more hug. But Dad just went and grabbed some gross power bars and sat with me. We talked college football, the best sporting league in the world. I was super anxious to leave so I wouldn’t be late so I doubt I was super conversational. Dad offered to drive me up if I needed to leave right now. My cousin showed up I hugged Dad and jumped in the car. Up in the press box we texted throughout the game. Scores and big plays were passed son to father. This afternoon we talked about the game I told him all that I saw and we talked about how next week’s game needed to play out.

This isn’t a “Disney movie” plug for how great this sport is. My Dad and I will always talk on or off season. But it is great to talk shop with my Father.

Dream like its 2013

So I was talking to my mom today while her and father and the remaining siblings traveled home after a fam-reunion. She was talking about certain ideas that were thrown around by the various family members for the next fam-reunion that should take place in 2013. She talked about urban scavenger hunt that takes place city wide in west coast towns like San Diego or San Francisco. Our family loves little cutsie things like that, I don’t really care either way. I attend these things to play with all the little ones, avoid questions about my future and eat allllll the free well prepared food.
But then I said, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.
“You know mom, my wife and I will be working at least two low-level, low pay jobs each. Plane tickets from Philedephia, Boston or Austin might be out of our price range.”
Mom was quick and played along.
“Yeah but by that time your father will have a job, and not just any job. He will be District Manager of some burgeoning medical sales company. 100k a year probably. We will fly you out, or help pay the rental car/gas costs so you can make that cross country trip you have always wanted to make.”
So it was settled my parents would finance the trip my beautiful wife and I will make out to the next reunion. Never mind, that I have eight more months till graduation and no real job leads. My car is less mobile than a terminal cancer patient. Completely small detail that I do not have a wife or any relationship and that the last one still makes me want to use up my yearly “f-bomb” quota in one fell swoop.
We can over look the negligible facts that it has been five years since my Dad has had a job that paid more than what he was making his first year out of college. That this isn’t the first time my family has been food stamp eligible. Little things like that.
I am not whining, Lord in heaven please do not think I am getting down with this. I just really appreciated the little scenario we created together my Mom and I. I have no idea why I loved it so much either. But in a “rough” time like this, can you blame us for enjoying it so much?

Then the past called

So there was this girl last night. Her hair was long down past her shoulders. She had faint freckles around her shoulders. If i hiked over a mountain I could rest my weary arms on her wide hips, like a shelf. Her derriere makes me wish I could palm NBA sized basketballs. I would gladly break my face on concrete if it would spare any harm to come on the most perfect set of legs ever. She has a triangle bottom lip.

I was in a hot dark room with this girl. The windows were open and the night breeze would gust in from time to time. There was abundant use of every flat surface. I could taste the salt in her glisten around her collar bone. Its rare to get opportunities hotter than this. This was as hot and heavy as I am allowed to experience.

Then the past called.

My phone was visible so i took a really fast glance at the name of this ill-timed caller. It was her, it was my past. I couldn't take the call (manners ya know), so I let it go to message. But from that moment on while I have an absolute vision breathing heavy in my ears, I could NOT stop thinking, "why was she calling me tonight?".

The past came ringing in for a 2nd time.

Now I am driving myself absolutely up the walls trying to think, "how am I going to get out of this and listen to her message, WHY IS SHE CALLING TWICE?"

I know exactly why this happened like it did. I know why I wanted to hear a voicemail more than sweat with a goddess. No analysis required.

PINKERTON = i am a mess

Hello my name is Mitch and i am a mess. I am a mess that inadvertently has been living his summer life up to this point in a fashion akin to PINKERTON. Yep that WEEZER album that no one really liked but the losers and now its recognized as one of their best ever. But let me explain track by track the realization i came today while rocking the entire album out.

1. Tired of Sex: i don't have sex, i am a good Mormon boy. With that said due to several failed and still smoldering attempts at making serious relationships work; i decided to take a break from seriousness and MAC my way through May, June, July and August. Its been fun but I catch myself often wishing that i could perceive some substance in any of these girls. When Rivers says "i know i am a sinner, but i can't say no", i know i once shunned the shallow types for exactly what i am doing now, but i can't say no. Because there is no better option at the moment.

2. Why Bother?: "Its just sexual attraction, nothing real so i better keep whacking." This one is a great testament to my attempts to totally mangle and maim my social life and previous social standards. I am only physically attracted to these girls, i know its not real, i've felt real and this isn't it. But then he screams, "i've known alot of girls, whats the harm in knowing one more." Because even if its not real, whats the harm, why bother? Its called a fling for a reason.

3. Across the Sea: Despite my attempts to be reckless, i do have some really cool and legit crushes on some cool and legit girls. Ones i would consider real. I consider them as such because we pen pal and i enjoy our conversations. That is real enough for me.

4. El Scorcho: This one is a hope more than a reality, its about meeting a girl that you click with on multiple levels as suggested by the verses about 1/2 japanese girls, and her not knowing about Green day (back in '96 it was quite a feat). Then his declaration of love, "i think i'd be good for you and you'd be good for me." Its simple and honest which i usually try to be when i am not trying to be reckless.

5. The good life: My life is not a terrible, I have jobs that pay me money and take up my ample time. I have an awesome pad and a car that works and plays PINKERTON really loud. I am cocky/arrogant/egotistical/good-looking/self-aware and for some reason girls of all kinds like this. So to be able to decide hey i am going to make a mess with all this and enjoy it, (and not get struck down by God), means that i cant be having it too hard. If anything i make harder than it needs to be by choice. "But who do i have to blame? nobody but me".

I am Mitch and i am making a mess while its hot and sticky, contact me if you feel so inclined to participate in any way.