The Glass Sculpture...

GUYS. I've been going to school this week. I'm so happy.

Yes, I said I went to school and it made me HAPPY. You don't understand what sitting at home alone for a whole week does to your mind. My family's awesome but I mean... come on... I was quarantined for like 168 hours. Nobody else wanted to get sick, and I don't blame them.

My main source of company was my dog... and she farts... a lot. Thank God when one of my friends decided to grace me with their presence. I was going insane, and seeing someone that didn't live in my house brightened my day like you wouldn't believe.

I've been thinking about the topic of trust a lot lately. I've been thinking about whom I trust, whether or not I'm trustworthy, what makes trust, etc.

What I realized is just how valuable trust is.

You see, I view trust as a glass sculpture. It's incredibly complex. At the same time it's beautiful. Creating a beautiful glass sculpture takes a lot of hard work and time (at least I'd guess it was... I haven't had an art class since sixth grade). Glass, however, is fragile. It's breakable. It doesn't matter how long you spent on making that glass sculpture. One mistake and it's gone.

Broken.

Shattered beyond recognition. Maybe not even by any fault of your own.

I've built up my glass sculptures before to the point where I thought they were almost finished. They were almost perfect.

And then they came crashing down around me. Uh oh.

What happens then? Do you fix it? Do you think "oh well" and move on?

In my life I don't have a lot of fully formed glass sculptures. I can only think of two right off the top of my head. I like to think that this means I'm careful with whom I trust. Trust isn't something that I just willingly hand out to people. That piece of art takes time to be turned into a masterpiece (my "sculpture making" record is like six months... but who's counting?).

I visualize my personal sculptures of trust as being organized in a gallery of sorts. Most of them aren't finished. The one-on-one trust that I form with the people that I've met isn't something that builds overnight.

Completely trusting someone is hard. Former English politician (and I mean very former... the dude died in like 1748 or something) Isaac Watts said that "Learning to trust is one of life's most difficult tasks."

I couldn't agree more. To give someone 100% of your trust is crazy scary... or at least it is for me. It means keeping no secrets. Telling them absolutely no lies. It means letting them get to know you to the point where they can read you like a book.

That's a  pet peeve of mine, now that I think about it. It bugs me when people just assume they know someone. Personally I don't care who claims to be able to read me. Chances are you can't. You don't know everything there is to know about me. I can still lie to you. Chances are I don't trust you entirely yet. That's not a bad thing. It just means you have to be patient. Patience is a virtue... or so I've been told.

Trust is delicate. As delicate as the most pristine glass. I take a lot of pride in the glass sculptures I've completed. I take more pride in the one or two that I've managed to hold on to.

I didn't build them alone, after all. 

In A Perfect World...

I'm sick. I've already seen this episode of Full House. I'm bored.

Thus, this blog post was born. So today during 1st hour, I did some thinking (which is really impressive, by the way, because I was barely coherent, and if you asked me what I did during first hour I couldn't tell you). 

I present to you "In A Perfect World." Written by... well... me. 

In a perfect world, the petty drama of high school wouldn't exist.

Geek and jock would live in perfect harmony. 

The school slut wouldn't be pregnant... again.

School wouldn't totally stress us out. 

"Grades" wouldn't be a word that makes the typical teenager cringe. 

People wouldn't fight. At all.

In a perfect world, your differences wouldn't make you a bad person.

Politics would be a figment of the imagination.

Religion wouldn't cause the fights that it does. 

In a perfect world, we would have no worries.

We wouldn't worry about money.

We wouldn't worry about fitting in.

We wouldn't worry about impressing other people.

In a perfect world we wouldn't be defined by what we have.

We wouldn't freak out over the newest phone.

We wouldn't worry about what other people think of the car we drive...

Or the clothes we wear...

Or who we hang out with.

In a perfect world I wouldn't be sick.

Nobody would be sick. 

Everyone would get along.

Nobody would starve.

There would be no war.

Or crime.

In a perfect world the relationships I was so happy to have...

I would never doubt them.
Ever.

In a perfect world, the occasional silence wouldn't bother me... rip my confidence to shreds...

In a perfect world my damn shoulder wouldn't hurt (owwwwwwwwwwww). 

In a perfect world Tyler Perry wouldn't be in an action thriller movie. 

But the world isn't perfect.

High school drama exists.

School still manages to stress us out. 

We have plenty to worry about.

What we have still manages to help define who we are. 

People still get sick.

People around the world are starving.

Politics still has an iron grip on the nation.

So called religion still provokes fighting across the globe. 

I still doubt the people I'm blessed to have as friends... sometimes. It's not their fault, though.   

My confidence could use some help at times. 

My shoulder still hurts.

And sadly Tyler Perry IS in an action thriller movie... 

The world is far from perfect. 

Sometimes we just have to make do, though, and look at what makes the world good.

What makes your world good? 

College Admissions Counselors Will Love Me...

Sweet and simple. This is my college admissions essay.

Enjoy.

Honesty is Brutal

                The truth, like being stabbed with a hot rusty knife and falling from great distances, can be quite painful. However, unlike a hot rusty knife, the truth is something that people could potentially want, no matter how brutal it is. The problem is that the truth, like Osama Bin Laden, seems to be very hard to find now a days. It isn’t impossible, though. Just ask Seal Team 6. The problem about honesty comes from both ends, though. People don’t want to hear it and people don’t want to deliver it. Kind of like a new born baby.

                The first problem with obtaining the fantastic treasure that is the truth is that sometimes people don’t really want to hear it. Especially if the truth has the potential to be a little upsetting. Questions like “does this dress make me look fat?” have the potential to result in answers that people probably don’t want to hear. But hey, they asked right? I think a life lesson that society as a whole needs to learn is that it’s better to hear the brutal truth than it is to be lied to. Sure, you could tell the potentially large woman in the potentially too small dress that, no, it doesn’t hug her skin a little too much. Then she’d be really happy… until she got to whatever event she felt the need to dress up for. Then the whispers start, and you know the whispers are never kept a secret. She’ll hear about it, and boy are you in trouble when you get home.

                “Why didn’t you tell me I looked like a stuffed potato in my dress?!?”  Don’t deny it, the little voice in your head that is letting you read this essay read that as a shrill, yet feminine, shriek of rage. If you’re a guy, you might have cringed a little bit too.

                The other problem with being honest is that nobody seems to feel the need to be honest anymore. They don’t realize that if you don’t tell the woman that the dress is not for her body type, you’re going to hear about it later, and it will probably be louder. People need to stop digging themselves a grave and realize that honesty is going to save you from a whole lot of crap later on. You might have to deal with someone being upset with you for a few minutes, but in the end they’ll be glad you were honest. Nothing sucks more than being lied to by someone you thought you could depend on to be honest with you. So next time, before you tell someone a lie, ask yourself: “is the amount of rage I’m going to experience if/when I get caught in this lie worth it?” If the answer is no, tell the truth. If the answer is yes… please reevaluate your life choices.

                The truth has the potential to be slightly painful. Being lied to is significantly more painful. If you lie to people, you are destroying any trust they had in you. If they didn’t trust you to begin with then congratulations, you blew your chances. The compulsive lying that society seems to think is acceptable is going to end badly. If you don’t believe me, I’m sure Hollywood has done tons of movies on the consequences of lying. Go rent one, and then I’ll say “I told you so.” 

Friendships Are Mutual You Derp...

WARNING: This is one of my "I'm slightly pissed off so I figured I'd blog about it to release some frustration" blogs. So if you don't want to read anything like that... you should probably close this tab now.

I have a lot of pet peeves. Calling me by my last name is a pet peeve of mine. Being a hypocrite is a pet peeve of mine. Not following through on promises you make is a pet peeve of mine (it's a policy of mine to automatically be annoyed by any and all politicians).

The one pet peeve of mine I wanted to talk about, though, is people who try and successfully pull off what I like to call "one sided friendships." I think that it's within the realm of possibility that I could write a book on how much one sided friendships make my blood boil. If I could rate it on a scale of 1-10 for how much they make me mad, I'd rate them at a 19398293. True story, bro. If one sided friendships were a person, they'd be the ugly red-headed step child that nobody ever really wanted. If they were a day they'd be Mondays. Specifically Monday mornings. FACT: Mondays are notorious for being the day that heart attacks most frequent. Does that put it into perspective for you? I really hate one sided friendships. Like... if I could turn them into a person I would probably murder that person. But I wouldn't get in trouble. It would be labeled as justifiable homicide.

Maybe I'm just going about life all wrong, but I seem to encounter one sided friendships a lot. Usually I end them before they have the chance to begin. However I'm a firm believer that if you are going to be "friends" with someone, the feeling should be mutual. As in both of you should probably put in an effort to be friends. That's where the term "one sided" comes into account.

I will admit I am probably guilty at being the bad friend in a one sided friendship. A lot. This is me giving you permission to call me out on it. It is absolutely not fair to anyone to be in this situation.

However I also know that I have been and still am the person that is putting the effort into a one sided friendship. It freaking sucks. It's kind of like you'd jump in front of a bullet for that person without hesitation. But if it came down to them jumping in front of a bullet for YOU, you're not entirely sure they'd do it. If you're in that situation...




Signs you're the victim of a one sided friendship:

- You always have to start the conversation.
- If you want to hang out with that person, YOU have to ask THEM to hang out. They never ask you to hang out.
- You always seem to be giving the effort to maintain the relationship. The amount of effort put forth by the other person: goose egg.

If this applies to you, I'm sorry. Together we can find a cure. If you just realized that you're the douche bag in a one sided friendship... freaking fix it or stop leading that person on. Friendships aren't a light switch you can just flip on and off. If you were real friends, you'd go through some tough shit together. Not bail out when it gets tough, and them come waltzing back when the tough part is over.


In regards to the other end of my one sided friendship... 1. I hope you know who you are. 2. I hope you're reading this. 3. If you are reading this, we need to talk. 4. If you're not sure if it's about you, please ask. Because I do want to talk to you about it. Badly. To the point that it kinda hurts.

That's all.

Love,
JewFro

Life: A Race... With Hurdles... Crap...

So I didn't really expect to learn another life lesson while I was on my float trip. So guess what... I learned a life lesson. Crazy how that works, right? Right. You go on a float trip with two of your best friends and you expect to have fun and relax and life is like: "Lol, no, it's time to have another epiphany Tyler." It's a conspiracy. I swear it is. I really did have fun on the float trip, though. And this is me saying "thank you" to my friends who decided to deal with me for a whole weekend in the middle of Nowhereville, Missouri. In an empty raft, on an empty and slow moving river. The best part, though, is when the radio called us beautiful and told us we have that one thing that shot them out of the sky. OH! And if you need a good movie to watch, go watch The Client. It's an older film, but it's SO GOOD. I'm getting off topic, though. I could write a book about how the float trip was pretty much perfect in every way.

Digressing...

Most of you that know me know that I tend to think a lot. A lot of thinking leads to over thinking and in my case over thinking is bad news because 99% of the time those thoughts aren't what I'd like to call "balls of sunshine and happiness." Not even close. Well... bad habits die hard. However, this time my over thinking allowed me to arrive at another life conclusion:

Life is going to throw you a TON of shit. It's like you're running a race at a track meet, and the hurdles are the difficulties life sets in front of you. Now, you may be a great hurdle racing person, but for nonathletic kids like me, the odds are you tried to jump the hurdle and you face planted. Hard.

Now in this race that I like to refer to as "life," everyone face plants at some point. I don't care how good at running or how Kenyan you are. You're gonna face plant. An example of a "life hurdle" is over thinking. For some reason, I was blessed (cursed, but I'm trying to sound grateful) with the horrid fact that I over think EVERYTHING. Boom. Face plant. Times sixty-seven.

The fact that you're going to face plant and trip over a few hurdles is inevitable. How you deal with tripping over that hurdle is key, though. You can sit there and give up. That'd be the easy way out. Whine and complain because the big bad hurdle got in your way. Go run a different race, an easier, one without hurdles. Where's the sense of accomplishment when you finish though? You could also just lay in the middle of the track and become another obstacle others have to watch out for while they run their race. I did that. I hate to admit it, but I did. I still do on occasion.

OR you can get back up and keep running. Find some motivation. Give yourself a reason to keep running that race.

My reason is because every time I fell down, someone cared enough to help me back up. Especially here recently. I know I talk about them a lot, but I have four of the best friends you could ever have. EVER. Since I started my junior year of high school at least one of them has been there to help me up every time I fell down. Every time.

I have the friend who shares my love for music. We can fan boy/girl hard over classical music and Sarah Chang together. Nobody else understands our love for classical string music quite like the other does. But on top of that I can still count on her to have my back and exchange fears of upcoming chair auditions (THOSE ARE THIS MONTH, BY THE WAY), or contest, or other non-music related things. So whoever said a guy and a girl can't be best friends... you are an idiot... and I'm guessing you lived with your mom until you were 30. At least. So HA.

Then there's the friend who I can be totally loud and obnoxious with and we don't judge each other. We usually just try and be louder than the other person. Whether we're quoting Spongebob, Mean Girls, or talking about how we're going to be ready for the Zombie Apocalypse, it's just so easy for us to have fun around each other. We were probably related in a past life. Not siblings... we get along too well to be siblings. Close cousins is probably accurate.

I have to group these last two together. They're like the brothers I always wanted... but it would be unfair to any one set of parents to have the responsibility of watching after all 3 of us for any extended period of time that lasts more than 3 days. "LET'S GO ON A NATURE WALK, GUYS!" We then promptly get chased by what sounded to be like a rather massive and vicious dog. I don't actually know what the dog looked like. It was dark and I was hauling ass in the opposite direction. These two remind me, though, that I don't have to live life being so wound up and stressed all the time. They do a very good job of just mellowing me out. It's like an emotional massage... I just get to relax. And when I do start over thinking stuff they kindly tell me that I'm being an idiot and I need to just stop thinking for a little bit.

See, I never said you had to run your race alone. I definitely would have given up a long time again if these people hadn't cared enough to tell me to get back up and get my butt in gear. They serve as my motivation to keep running. And if I trip over another hurdle, they'll help me up again. Of course, as friends they're entitled to laugh at the fact that I fell down first. That's how it works.

Life, in its own way, is a race. There is no set distance. You just run. Hurdles are a part of the race. I hope you jump over most of them and they turn you into a better person with killer calf muscles. Some of them are going to pop up unexpectedly and knock you down though.  The stadium is jam packed with people. Some of them would love nothing more than to watch you fail. Why would you give them that satisfaction? You will fall down. People will be there to see it. I hope you have the motivation to get back up, though. Keep running, so that way when you do finish the race, you can look back at everything you accomplished and be happy with the race you ran. The only person you're competing with in this race is yourself.

How can you lose?

Chicken, Double Standards, and a Whole Lot of Stupid...

Normally I'd take a stance on this issue that sides with the gay rights activists. I'm firmly against discrimination because of things like sexual orientation, race, religion, gender, etc.

Let me just say, though, that I think the people that are totally flipping shit against Chik Fil A are way out of line. They've created a double standard.

From what I've read and heard, it sounds to me like all the owner of this chicken restaurant did was state that he is against gay marriage (and keep in mind, the dude IS a Christian, so yeah, there's a good chance he's against gay marriage. It's in the Bible... you know that book CHRISTIANS READ).

The gay community and their supporters have marched on the WHITE HOUSE. And now they're angry because people are gathering at a CHICKEN RESTAURANT? What?

No, I don't think Chik Fil A needs to be funding anti-gay movements. Not because it's wrong, but because there are better things that the money could go towards. You could help the poor, which is also Christ like, and actually benefits society.

But the fact that people of the gay community and their supporters are throwing a fit over people gathering at Chik Fil A is absolutely stupid and hypocritical. The right to assembly was guaranteed to everyone. So sit your overly righteous selves down, and get over it. Your rights were never taken away by a chicken sandwich. This whole issue was stupid from the beginning, and it needs to stop escalating. Agree to disagree and move on with your lives.

I think if people were actually being discriminate against, I'd be a little more sympathetic. This isn't discrimination though. I'm sure that a gay person could go into Chik Fil A and still BUY some chicken nuggets. And if Chik Fil A is like "Nah, dude. You can't have any nuggets." Take it up in court, not on my Twitter feed.

This is an incredibly pissed JewFro. Stay in school.

Deuces.

That Llama Was Rad... Those Pews Are For Sale... And if Mother Nature Let's It Rain This Weekend She's Going On My Bitch List...

This summer. I don't even... gah. A warning of how much I was going to learn this summer would have been helpful. I wasn't prepared at all. Which is fine. If you like fighting monkeys with flame throwers.

Okay, I didn't fight monkeys with flamethrowers, but that's definitely what I'm going to tell people I did on the first day of school when teachers are like "what did you do over the summer? Share it with the class. NOW." So much for confidentiality. Jerk. However, I figured I would share with you guys what my summer has consisted of so far. And if you don't want to hear about it... well that's too bad. It's my blog. I'll do what I want.

Let's start with the end of the school year. I took tests. A lot. I flipped my lid because I was stressed. A lot. I skipped classes. Twice. One of the times was for Chipotle. IT WAS JUSTIFIED. The other time was for a nap. Who cares if it was justified? I chilled with some friends and Chinese food and reinforced the theory that I can't throw objects with any degree of accuracy. Unless you count sarcastic insults as objects. Heh. BULLS EYE.

Then I started working. I really ruin the whole stereo typical lifeguard ideal. Muscular I am not. Hawt blond surfer I am not. Chiseled I am not. I sit in a chair for six hours and blow a whistle when little children get the idea that it might be okay to run. NO. Stop running. I love it.

The first huge event I had this summer was StuCo camp. And to all of the poop faces who say that StuCo camp sounds lame... well I'm sorry that you were never held as a child. Don't take it out on us. StuCo camp literally is the most life changing experience I've ever had (sorry mission trip friends. Silver medals are purdy, though). When you get 500 of the most outgoing kids in Missouri and you put them together for a week on a college campus... dear God. I don't know how I lived through that. First you have to learn a crap ton of camp songs. Let me share with you the lyrics of one of those camp songs.


Dough - the stuff they put in twinkies
Ray - the guy who buys me twinkies
Me - The guy Ray buys twinkies for
Fah - a long, long way from twinkies
So - I think I'll have a twinkie
La - La la la la la twinkie
Tea - no thanks I'll have a twinkie
And that brings us back to dough
Twinkie, twinkie, twinkie, DOUGH

What? WHAT?! Who is Ray? And why is he buying me twinkies? I don't remember asking Ray to buy me twinkies. I don't even LIKE twinkies. This song doesn't even make sense! But singing it in an auditorium at the top of your lungs is fun. It's fun because every other person in that auditorium is singing along. Nobody else cares that you look like an idiot. Everyone else looks like an idiot too. StuCo camp is the one place I have been to where our differences meant nothing to anyone else. White, black, skinny, fat, gay, straight, smart, not so smart. It didn't matter who you were. It didn't matter where you came from. The only thing that mattered was that you were there, and your life was going to change with everyone else's. I assure you that I have never been to any other place EVER where you can just be you and not one person judged you. Not one. The acceptance that we showed each other that week was incredible. I wish everyone could go to Fulton. It changes your life.

Another thing I learned about at StuCo camp is the word Gusto. Living with Gusto and how important it is. I'll explain that later though.

P.S. ...

MASC HOW DO YOU FEEL?! I've missed screaming that. So much.

P.P.S

FAMILY K I MISS YOUR FACES COME BACK INTO MY LIFE KTHXBAI.

Oh and if you've ever told me that StuCo camp sounds stupid... I've probably visualized pushing you down the stairs... multiple times. Good day.

The other event I got to take part in was a mission trip to DeSoto Missouri. I think there should be a limit on how many life changing weeks you can go through in one summer. I was so overwhelmed. I learned a lot on the mission trip, too. No I'm not going to preach to you about how awesome God is (although He is undeniably awesome). I'm probably not the right person to do that. I'm still new to the whole religion thing, and I'm working those kinks out.

I think the thing I liked the most about DeSoto was the people. I went with a youth group full of people that I love (dear friend, thank you again for forcing me to spend time with your youth group... you were right and I was wrong and this is the ONLY time you'll witness me admitting it. So HA.) so I was already prepared to have a blast. What I didn't expect was for our youth group and the First Baptist Church of DeSoto's youth group to get along so well so fast. Holy friendship Batman!

The most significant lesson I got out of the mission trip to DeSoto was that you only get to live on this earth one time. Just once. Don't waste it.

I don't think they intentionally tried to teach me that, but that's what I got out of it. Now I want to take this lesson, and I want to pair it with the word I mentioned earlier: "Gusto." Personally when I hear the word Gusto I think about just enjoying life, but at the same time giving 110% at everything you do.

Those two weeks combined taught me that, because you only live once on this earth, you need to enjoy your life and give 110% for everything you do. Otherwise you're just wasting your time. It's a simple lesson, but it's a significant one.

My two big trips for this summer have come and gone. They're over. That makes me a little sad. The last thing I'm getting to do is go with two of my best friends on a float trip for a weekend. I'm so ready to just float down a river and relax. It'll be good thinking time. But not my usual kind of thinking. Only happy thoughts. So friends going on the float trip... I'm counting on you to make me think happy thoughts. Not the usual negative bull shit that runs through my head. Please and thank you. Let's float.

This summer has been freaking crazy (in a good way). I'm so glad I got to meet and grow close to so many new and awesome people. I'm even happier that I got to grow even closer to people I already knew. I feel absolutely 100% ready to take on senior year, and I'm kind of excited for school to start.

I hope all of you have also had a satisfying summer.

Don't do drugs.
Don't have sex, or you will get pregnant. And die.

--Tyler