Foreign Territory

As I read over my last entry, I realize it has one fatal flaw: I fail to fully expand on how Boy Scouts is fun and what duty requires. I fear I was just filling in "useless" words in an effort for a higher post count. I look back through my journal and realize that I have posted five times in five days, with only twelve hours separating "Minute Details" and "Forgotten Pictures." I need to stay away from post count or viewed count "obsession." Anyways...

Major Archie Gates (Three Kings)
The way it works is, you do the thing you're scared shitless of, and you get the courage after you do it, not before you do it.

Last Friday (May 23, 2003), I finally asked Erin out. The next night, we went to Appalachian Brewing Company for dinner, then met up with Steve and Allison to go see Bringing Down The House (A surprisingly all right movie) at a local theater in Middletown. Before we went to the movie, we stopped at a local Aeropostale where Steve and I tried on clothes while Allison and Erin gave their opinions on how they looked. I had Erin home by 11 PM, we hugged, and I asked her if she wanted to go out again the next week, to which she said, "Yes."

For my first steps into foreign territory, I thought it all went pretty well.

That same night, I went through the whole situation and tried to evaluate myself. As I recalled my own actions, I realized that I did not really act like how a boyfriend acts, but I further question my own actions and find myself saying that I did not open this door or pull out this chair for her because I want a casual relationship. Also, it felt awkward; I am not normally the kind of person to do those little things for someone else. When I first picked her up, I opened my car door for her, but it felt too weird; if we were in a closer relationship, it probably would not have felt abnormal. I had no problem with paying Erin's way through the whole night (She wanted to pay, but she had only $3 on her), but doing those little chivalrous things seemed too formal. And as I give the "paying her way through the night" idea more thought, it brings up another possibility: buying friends.

I could have come over to her house the next day, but I was confused as to what the "rules" were to how Mormons treat Sunday, the day of their Sabbath. Instead, I came over to her house on Monday (Memorial Day) with a 16 lbs box of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream, to which Mrs. Schmucker replied, "Eric... why did you bring over ice cream? I am trying to keep off the pounds." Erin was happy to see a "massive" box (They are not massive to me anymore) of ice cream being brought to her house. As she ate a bowl of the stuff and we sat on her driveway, I got a chance to meet her senior prom date (Yet another Steve that she knows; I swear that she has at least a dozen friends named Steve). He mentioned something about a picnic, and suddenly, I was invited to go to a Mormon picnic. I certainly was not about to say "No"; seeing as how I wanted to get closer to Erin, I saw it as an easy way to get that much closer.

What I received made me feel more distant.

Upon going to the picnic, it was very apparent that Erin was welcomed quite openly by everyone because she knew everyone there. However, the sensation was quite different from my perspective. I use the term "Gaijin Complex" from Japanese Culture: A Primer For Newcomers because it accurately describes the situation. Basically, it was "us and them." Of the dozens of people I met there, only two or three actually went further than "Hi, my name is ______" when talking to me. While I was not expecting to be welcomed by everyone, I was not expecting such a cold response from almost everyone. After a while, I was expecting someone to openly say, "Get the fuck out of here," but that never happened; this never happened because most of them are almost painfully nice, and openly saying something that harsh is not in their nature. However, one thing I do not like is when people hide their emotions and feign politeness; covert dislike is just as bad as overt dislike.

I remember once reading in a book that Mormons had a specific word for non-Mormons, but the word eludes me at the moment.

Another specific feeling that I got from attending this picnic was that I was a dog on a leash with Erin holding the end. I realize that this was not Erin's intention, but this is how I felt when it was all said and done. We came together and never once did I stray further than 20 feet from Erin (Or rather, Erin stray from me) without her telling me to "Come here" or "Eric, I want you to meet Sister/Brother ______." She would "drop me off" at a table, go get some food, then come back to find me in the same place and not saying much. I would attempt to start conversations with people around me, but I received the "gentle" brush-off every time. I was the "dog" simply being led around by Erin and did not deserve any attention.

Today (May 28, 2003), Erin and Allison had an "All-Star" game for PIAA soccer (I guess it was their unofficial last soccer game in high school). I mention this because, as I left Erin's on Monday, I told Erin that we would probably do something on Wednesday (Today). However, what actually happened would be what I would call a "big fucking waste of time" (Granted, I was not doing anything specific nor did I have any plans for the rest of the night). After Erin and Allison lost their game, we drove to someone's house which was located behind Lower Dauphin High School, drove to the local Wendy's, and found out that our group of four was not having dinner together. Steve and Allison had to help Allison's step-father drop off a car somewhere, Erin got food with another friend at the Drive Thru (I guess they call it "Thru" instead of "Through" because it might cost them a few more bucks per sign if they spelled it properly), and I was left out to dry. Basically, I had been led around, thinking that we would do something semi-productive, and in the end, nothing happened.

In afterthought, I looked closely at people's behavior. With the exception for when Allison threw my right sandal at my testicles (Oh, does she throw hard), Erin never really paid much attention to me. I am not about to get envious about the fact that Erin talked to and gave more attention to Steve than she did to me, but it certainly is disheartening. And by no means do I want to "hog her all to myself" or anything stupid such as that, but it would be nice if she had just talked to me without me having to initiate the conversation. As I think harder and harder about this, it makes me feel as if the prior "progress" that I had with Erin simply went up in smoke; back to square one; like we never had gone out at all.

I found the words to ask Erin out, but I need to take it a step further from that. I think that I need to find the words to express my feelings towards her, to let her know that I want to be a bit more than friends, to let her know that I love her. But I would be a fool if I did not think that this would possibly scare Erin away entirely. I question the need to do this; I realize that our relationship is static because Erin is not really "taking me seriously," but I have a strong feeling that Erin would not be able to face me again if I express to her my true thoughts and feelings about her.

If self-improvement is not the answer, perhaps self-destruction is.

I already said in another entry "Erin makes me want to be a better man," but I realize that the opposite is true as well. If Erin can make me want to be better, then Erin can also make me want to be worse. I am not lying in the least bit when I say that thinking of Erin has made me seriously consider suicide. By no means do I want to bring harm to Erin, but the more I think that my attempted relationship with her is a complete failure, the more I consider suicide to be a viable option to solving a problem that I think is of the utmost importance: the ability to get close to someone of the opposite sex. I know that Kain would say something like "Anime will solve your problem"; my mother would say something like "Family/Work will solve your problem"; Brandon would say something like "Weed will solve your problem." However, I do not consider those to be solid solutions. I find two definitive answers: get into a closer relationship with Erin or suicide.

Another possible conclusion I cannot dismiss entirely: I just have not found her yet. I could just be overreacting to all of this and not looking at it from a more objective position. Erin is merely the first woman I have ever dated, and I am trying hard to make Erin be the "right" woman when she really cannot be. If this were true, then it would definitely break my heart seeing as how I already have my heart set on Erin. Just as I said a few months back, I just want a relationship with some real substance to it; I could care less about the sex aspect, but rather, I care about building a relationship that works and where the two of us care for one another beyond a mere superficial level. Even as I know Erin's personality and patterns, I have a bad feeling that she is not looking for a boyfriend, but that is not really an excuse to make my effort half-assed.

Asking Erin out in the first place was hard enough, but I still have to keep on going. Courage will come to me eventually; in the meantime, I have to tread lightly in the foreign territory that goes by the name of "Love."

Character Building

The "Professor" threw out the 25-exposure roll of film. I guess that means I will never find out what was on it in the first place.

Hank Weis, ex-Reservation Director of Hidden Valley Scout Reservation
If you aren’t modeling what you’re teaching, you’re teaching something else.

When my family and I moved to Pennsylvania back in 1991, there was a two-year gap between when I had friends. In an effort to help me make some friends, my parents encouraged me to join Cub Scouts, but perhaps that was not their sole intention in condoning such an action.

I think I first joined Pack 108 back in the winter of 1993, but I may be wrong as far as the season is concerned. Anyways, I do not specifically remember any meetings, any campouts, or that stuff because they were not that memorable, or maybe I cannot remember them because it was just so long ago. However, I do remember all of the people I met there, stupid little activities we would do, and just... having fun. I will not go as far as saying that we had a grand ol' time or whatnot, but it was fun nevertheless. However, it seemed like it was just a prelude to Boy Scouts, sort of like how they want to sucker you into thinking or buying something by letting you try it out for free or only showing you the fun parts. That is my only guess as to what the true purpose of Cub Scouts is simply because there seemed to be no organized effort at anything other than the fun aspect.

Comparing Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts is almost like comparing apples and oranges; they are similar but they are also very different. Apples and oranges are both fruits but they taste very different by comparison; Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts are both organizations based upon similar principles but are entirely different when it comes down to what actually goes on. For example, Cub Scouts is child's play to say the least because everything is oriented towards children and it feels more like one big babysitting organization. On the other hand, Boy Scouts is the exact opposite because the scouts make shit happen, not the adults. Yeah, adults have to come along on campouts and hikes and all of those cute things, but they are not usually running the show (Okay, they do all of the financial stuff). It seems similar to the situation depicted in Robert Graves' Good-Bye To All That in the fact that the grunts (Scouts) are in the trenches doing all of the work while the officer and logistics staffs (Adults) sit in the back and try to make sure that things happen somewhat according to a designated plan.

As much as it seemed like Cub Scouts was trying to sucker me into joining Boy Scouts (Almost in a fashion that made it seem like "Oh no! Boy Scouts sucks a monster cock!"), there was no suckering because...

... Boy Scouts was even more fun.

Okay, I will admit that when I first joined Troop 108, I was picked on most of the time by the older scouts, but this seemed like a weeding-out process. Separating the chaff from the wheat, so to say. In short order, I earned the nickname Sox because I always wore these long white socks with stripes on them that I would pull up to my knees (And sometimes past my knees), and I earned the nickname while it was still summer. Everyone would laugh about them and make fun of me for it, and I eventually decided that shorter socks might be better. Another thing is that there were some other scouts in my troop who were just fucked in the head, and there is no other way to put it. As I look back and remember these people who were just screwed up, it does seem as if their only real purpose was to separate the willing from the weak, a "natural selection" like process (I could probably go on for the rest of the day with naming this process). However, as I became older and gradually began going up in the ranks, this process died off. This happened partially because I was just getting older and was not taking much more shit from these people, and part of it had to do with the fact that my troop was losing many of the older scouts who had originally been picking on me. Some of the older scouts had dropped out, but most of then became Eagle. This is a bit surprising because only 2% of all scouts ever become Eagle.

Anyways, Boy Scouts was a blast. There was no partying, drinking, or anything like that; just pure, clean fun. Hell, I gave up three summers to work (Read: volunteer) at Hidden Valley Scout Reservation just because it was fun. There was work involved in all of that, but most of the time, it was just raw fun. I gave up almost a month of the summers of 1998 and 2000 in order to go to Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimarron, New Mexico (Many miles of hiking, eating freeze-dried food, and running around where no trace of civilization existed with 80 lbs. of gear on my back). Even after all of that blood, sweat, and tears, I can still say that it was a damn fun time.

Somewhere along the line though, the line between fun and duty was blurred, and I am not sure if this is good or bad. The good thing is that when you combine fun and duty, you are more willing to perform your responsibilities because you want to. However, the bad thing is that you could possibly lose sight of your duties because you think that whatever is fun is your duty. Both are separate elements and can be combined, but even with the line blurred, you must be able to see through it all to know when to divide them.

I technically became an Eagle Scout on February 22, 2001, although my Eagle Ceremony was a month or two afterwards. As I stood at the podium to give my acceptance speech, I could not find the proper words to say. I kept saying "Scouts is fun" multiple times in various ways, but I never pinned down a specific reason. I had so many thoughts and memories rushing through my head that I just could not pick a specific instance to talk about to expand on the "Scouts is fun" idea. I think my parents have it on video, and I laugh about it as I think about it even now. It makes me feel silly because I was trying to make up my speech on the spot even though I had one written down in my pocket.

In my life, I have been to at least a dozen Eagle Ceremonies for people that I know in the central Pennsylvania area; however, I have been invited to many more. The main reason I did not go to any of those other Eagle Ceremonies was not because of time constraints or anything like that, but simply because of who the person was and how they "achieved" their Eagle. If I ever received an invitation from someone, it was because I was friends with them to some degree, but being friends with them does not mean that I should deny the fact that they may have fudged part of the "road" to becoming an Eagle Scout. While working at Hidden Valley Scout Reservation, I saw at least four or five kids per summer who would have their Eagle before they were even 14 years old. I never agreed with this because all of these kids were immature and did not understand what they were getting into. To them, it was merely a game; beat it as fast as possible and move onto the next big thing.

The most heart-wrenching part of all of this is seeing people not earn Eagle Scout when you know that they do deserve it. I am talking about those people who just put so much time and effort towards Boy Scouts that they lose sight of their personal objectives in it all or those people who have so much potential but squander it by quitting/never really taking advantage of what they can exploit from within themselves. I have seen many of these people go through Boy Scouts, and it truly pained me to see it going on around me all the time. While preppy kids would practically buy their Eagle Scout, there were other people who never got Eagle Scout but deserved it far more. On my Philmont 2000 Trek, there was a kid in my crew named AJ who openly admitted that his father (Who was also apart of the crew) pretty much did his entire Eagle project so that all that AJ had to do was "earn" merit badges at summer camp. After talking to a number of people from his troop, I got the impression that AJ never worked on any merit badges and had just forged the papers for all of them.

Becoming an Eagle Scout is something special to me; I even had an eagle tattooed onto my left shoulder blade to symbolize what I had become and so I could never forget who I am (Although other factors contributed to my desire to get a tattoo). I honestly believe that Boy Scouts made me a better person in many ways, and it does for many other young men as well, but I cannot deny that it loses its potency as people take advantage of the system. As I came back to Hershey for this summer, the "Professor" informed me that there was a new man in my troop who basically took control; since there is a relative lack of scouts, this man has gained leverage over my troop's leaders by pointing out that he has a strong sway over many of the parents and their decisions to continue supporting the troop (Monetarily and with their sons). I have no clue why this man wants control over a Boy Scout troop, but I cannot deny the "air" that he had around him the last time I went to a troop meeting.

Since then, neither the "Professor" or I have gone to a troop meeting; the troop we once knew is dead.

Despite all of that, I cannot forget all of the lessons that Boy Scouts has taught me, nor can I forget all of the people that I was friends with for those short seven years. At the very least, I got a "Get out of Jail Free" card from a Federal "mail cop" who happened to be my assistant scoutmaster. It was there to have fun, but if you dug only a little bit, it was there to help you mature and become a better person.

Forgotten Pictures

Not too long ago, I unearthed a 15-exposure roll of Advantix film, and I had no clue where it came from or what it even contained. I made a "wise" move and got them all on CD as well as double hard copies, even though I did not know what they contained. The results were rather interesting. Most of the pictures were from my senior prom and a few were from Senior Week 2001 at Oceancity, Maryland.

This is a presentation of a few select pictures that will help put a face to names that I have mentioned and will mention throughout my entries. By putting a face to people, they become more real and alive.

Side note: If I ever get the other mystery roll of 25 exposures developed, I will try to post some of them as well.


Pictured (Left to Right): Steven Whetstone, Brandon Arce, and Eric Joseph (Me)
I have mentioned both Steve and Brandon multiple times, and up until the previous entry, Steve was only a name and had no actual face (To the readers, I mean), and up until this moment, Brandon was just a name without a face.

This picture was taken at my senior prom towards the end of the night. Brandon had some "gangster" thing going that night, and he always wanted to do "gangster-like" stuff (Not African-American gangsters; the intent was Italian-American gangsters). Anyways, this picture was us posing with "guns" in our hands. There was another picture on the roll that was taken only 20 seconds before this one where we were not prepared for it, and it came off as Steve and I giving the camera our deer-staring-into-headlights impersonations. I am a bit surprised that this picture came out as well as it did because of how rapidly we were just flying around and getting our pictures taken by all of our friends.

Also, this picture came after Courtney effectively dumped me (Something that I will never forgive her for). My hair was all messed up because it was windy outside in the gardens and because I had fallen to pieces. I cannot tell if I am smiling or just showing teeth (Nor do I remember now), but this was a rare moment after I was dumped because I looked happy.


Pictured (Left to Right): Michael Rittman, Erin Schmucker, Eric Joseph (Me), Brandon Arce, Meghan Turk, Allison Geiger, Steven Whetstone, Sharon Meilstrup, and Briant Giles
To say that this picture came out horribly would be an exaggeration; to say that this picture came out beautifully would be lying. I have no clue how or why the quality of this particular photo was not that great, but this is how it is, and I cannot help it. Anyways, this picture was supposed to be an "extension" of Brandon's "gangster" theme. I guess he saw a Godfather movie (Now that I think about it, I have never really watched an entire Godfather movie all the way through; this is something that definitely goes onto the To Do list) and got the idea that gangsters have big family portraits/pictures taken. The idea was good; the actual execution did not come out as planned.

This picture was of our group of friends (Aaron was not in this picture for some reason; as I think about it, I realize that I have not really spoken about Aaron in all of my entries, but I will in this one). It was taken as the prom was wrapping up, and we all stopped and got it taken on a whim (Actually, Brandon's whim since I guess he wanted a group shot bad).

I do not wish to bring unnecessary attention to something that I have already said before, but before you read the next sentence, look at the picture carefully and see if you notice something about me. I am the only one without a date. By this point, Courtney had dumped me like trash in a dumpster. Everyone else has their date with them, and this picture seems to bring to life a fear of mine: being lonely forever. I will not pretend that having a girlfriend/wife/whatever will automatically "fix" that fear, but it is apart of the solution. I see everyone else passing me by, happy with their spouse, and me left in the dust, alone.


Pictured: Steven Whetstone
Just a picture of Steve giving his best deer-staring-into-headlights impersonation. Actually, I think that Steve was trying to give a serious look at me while I took the picture, but he looks anything but serious.


Pictured (Left to Right): Meghan Turk, Erin Schmucker, Allison Geiger, and Sharon Meilstrup
Note: This picture was modified to remove excess "dead space" and focus on the people presented.

In this picture, the only person I do not know all that well is Sharon. She was Briant's date for the prom; an alright person and a little on the geeky side, but then again, most of the kids I knew in high school were a little on the geeky side.

Meghan is a rather interesting story. Brandon asked her to prom because he found that she was quite fun to be around, and nothing is really wrong with that. They both had a blast going together (Which makes me wish I had asked someone else), and at the part after prom, both of them started their infamous sexual relationship; still nothing wrong with that, even though Meghan was a sophomore and Brandon was a senior. Where things went wrong is when Brandon "corrupted" her, something that he takes great pride in telling other people. Basically, Meghan began giving Brandon almost nightly blow jobs; no vaginal sex, no kissing, no Brandon going down on Meghan. And this happened for the whole summer. According to Brandon, he kissed her two times throughout their relationship, and he never wanted to kiss her at all. They had to break up at the end of the summer not because Brandon was going to college, but because Meghan's mother caught Meghan sucking Brandon's penis at 2 AM one morning in August 2001. Brandon laughed the relationship off, and Meghan never really forgave him for "leaving" her.

There was the "family" picture before, but that did not provide a whole lot of detail of Erin. This picture shows Erin in much more detail, but since her dress was all black, the amount of detail is still quite limited. Anyways, Mike took her to prom, and I guess they had a good time, but it always felt like Mike and Erin were just good friends and nothing more. As I look over the picture more, it does not really do Erin much justice because she looked better than that at prom. I guess I will have to search around for a better picture of her at a later date and time.

Last but not least, Allison. Steve and Allison had been going out for a little more than six months when prom came around, and their relationship seemed a bit shaky at this point. I say this not because they were having major problems, but because they had yet to "open" themselves to each other. That did not stop them from both having a blast at prom, and actually, it seemed as if prom was a great bonding time for them.


Pictured (Left to Right): Aaron Freeman and Karen Norris
This is "jumping" ahead of things, but this picture was taken at Senior Week instead of our Senior Prom. I chose this one to show Aaron because I completely forgot the name of Aaron's prom date, and because this picture is a bit funny. This was taken right after Aaron got done downing a few shots of cheap vodka, and he was pretty much drunk at this point.

Since this picture was taken, Aaron has moved down to Oklahoma to go to college, and he has pretty much removed himself from our little group because of a constant lack of contact. He is a good friend, if not cocky and confident in everything that he says (And with the amount and type of stuff that would come out of his mouth, he always seemed pretty positive that that is how things happened).

Karen deserves to be talked about a bit. I am not quite positive, but Aaron and Brandon came into contact with her online. Only after they discovered that she was going to Oceancity, Maryland at roughly the same time as us did both of them gain an interest in her (They were also interested in her because she sent them a "hot" picture of herself, which they later said, "She looks completely different in real life than she did in the picture"). Karen is a good party girl, but it always seemed as if she was forced to "play mother" to drunks, as was the case in this picture.


Pictured (Left to Right): Eric Joseph (Me) and Courtney George
Note: This picture was modified to remove excess "dead space" and focus on the people presented.
Here is a picture of Courtney. Quite honestly, she is a cute little Italian girl. This picture was taken at her house before we actually got to the prom. As I look at the picture, I notice two things: my hair was really long then, and there is no contact between Courtney and I. Further talking about the contact part, I never touched Courtney in any way that could be perceived as the two of us having a closer relationship than being just friends. Holding hands or having my arm around her shoulder would have been presenting a false relationship in some sense.

I admit that there are some people that I dislike, but I hate Courtney for what she did. As I think about it, Courtney is the only person that I truly do hate in this world. I cannot forgive her for blatantly dumping me at the prom, and the fact that she refuses to speak to me only adds insult to injury.

These pictures bring back many good and bad memories.

Minute Details

• Just a slight update on my anime auditing: as of this entry, I have spent approximately $2,035.70 on anime, with a total retail value of roughly $3,795.99.
  
  These facts bring up two things. First, I am very grateful for purchasing stuff from online sellers, because they have really helped me save a lot of cash (DVDPriceSearch.com is very useful for saving money on DVD purchases). Second, this means that, had I not bought any anime DVDs, I would have $2,035.70 more money in my bank account to do whatever I wanted with it; however, this is a case where I would say that money buys happiness.
• As I look back over past entries and read them, I notice a change in writing style. Lately, I seem to be using a single-sentence paragraph as opposed to just long paragraphs with four to six sentences. I believe I adopted this style from Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. The weird thing about this "adoption" of writing style is that I have not read or seen Fight Club (For those who do not know, there is a book and a movie, and both are quite good) in well over a year, so it is a bit odd that I would suddenly "adopt" this style from clear out of the blue.
  
  Anyways, I think I like using the single-sentence paragraph style because it separates specific thoughts and ideas from everything else that is going on. Like in my previous entry, I talk about Erin in large paragraphs, but I always keep Brandon mentioned in between paragraphs so that he does not completely disappear from the "picture."
• Both Hershey and Pittsburgh differ in their amounts of African-Americans (Hershey is practically all Caucasian while Pittsburgh is a nice mix of ethnic groups), but there is something consistent: African-Americans are almost always given the "low" jobs.
  
  In Pittsburgh, I spend most of my time at the University, and you just notice things very quickly. Almost all of the kitchen staffs, janitors, and door watchers (I am not really sure what else to call them, but they are the people who buzz you into a building when you swipe your Pitt ID card) are African-American. For the most part, the bosses of these people are Caucasian. Professors, police officers, and teacher's assistants are almost all Caucasian. The thing that confuses me is why it is like that. I mean, I have walked through offices at Pitt and found more Indian and Asian professors than African-American professors; actually, I have rarely seen an African-American professor, and I have not even had one yet in all of my classes. Pittsburgh itself has a healthily diverse city, but when it comes to jobs, it seems as if African-Americans are made slaves of their jobs once again.
  
  In Hershey, I am all over the place, but it is entirely different from Pittsburgh. There may be a total of a dozen African-American families in Hershey (Excluding Milton Hershey School), but even then, I notice that African-Americans are given the "low" jobs. At Hersheypark, the only African-American employees work in the Employee Cafeteria as cooks. Basically, employees serving other employees is the lowest of the low in Hersheypark; not even the garbage or hose crew is that low.
  
  I am still confused as to why employment positions are divided by skin color.
• I begin to wonder if I am sexist when I actively notice that a group of people may be all women but I do not actively notice that a group of people may be all men. When I recently saw X-Men 2, I noticed that the pilot of an F-16 Falcon in one scene was a woman, but I know that if the pilot had been a man, my thoughts would not have pondered "The pilot is a man." Even in the Anime Academy Lounge a few months ago, I took notice that three women posted in the same thread in a row, but I do not notice when ten men post in the same thread in a row.
  
  I wonder if other people have this same "problem."
• Yes, another small commentary on Erin.
  
  I cannot help but compare Erin to Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket, and I find many similarities. Both women are young, full of life, vibrant, very friendly, and not extremely intelligent. Now, the last characteristic that I mentioned may sound harsh, but it is the truth. I know that if I ever tried to have a conversation with Erin about politics, she would probably get lost very easily and not understand everything that I was saying. By no means is Erin stupid, but I would have a hard time calling her a genius. This may be the case...
  
  ... but that will not stop me from loving her.
• I seem to be watching anime in short spurts these days. With summer here, I no longer have to worry about classes, tests, and homework, but mostly work and friends gobble up a large portion of my time. Whenever I do sit down to watch anime, it seems to just happen all at once, but it is never dragged out. For example, I had no work on last Monday and Tuesday (May 12 and 13, 2003), and during the daytime, my friends usually could not do anything, so I watched 20 episodes of Arc the Lad in those two days (All on the last four DVDs). I started watching Princess Nine, and because of time constraints, I could only watch three episodes. Since that Tuesday, I have not watched the series at all, and I will probably pick it back up on this Monday and Tuesday (May 19 and 20, 2003) in an effort to finish it off. However, I will not be having any regularly scheduled days off afterwards because Hersheypark becomes full-time starting May 22, 2003 (I am not positive about this date, but it is sometime around then).
  
  Anime will be on the "backburner" most of this summer.
• Yesterday, I had a momentary lapse of memory, and as I walked into my room, four things seemed overwhelming in my room: books, my computer, anime, and boxes. I quickly remembered that it was my room and everything felt normal again, but it felt like I was looking at my room through someone else's eyes for a moment. This seems to happen to me every once in a while. I may be driving down a road that I have driven down a thousand times, but I may suddenly have a lapse of memory; while I will not know where I am going, everything looks as if I have never seen it before, and consequently, I am given another perspective on the "same old, same old."
• I openly admit/brag about the fact that I can swipe/steal 16 pound boxes of Ben and Jerry's ice cream from Hersheypark without getting caught. Just the other day, I swiped/stole a box of New York Super Fudge Chunk and brought it home for my family ("The Professor" abhors it because it has "icky" nuts). Only a day after the fact, I told Steve about it and he could not decide on whether I should get him Vanilla or Sweet Cream with Cookies (I cannot find the webpage for the flavor). I will probably get him a box of either flavor this weekend, unless one of my bosses who cares (Jerri, Richard, or Carl) catches me in the act, which then I would be completely fucked.
• Here is a link to Steve's webpage at Pitt. I am a bit lazy and do not feel like linking his name in every entry that I mentioned, so this is a one-time deal (Also, the fact that a lot of my entries are only a few characters away from the 10,000 character limit is another good reason). Here is a page made by Steve that has multiple pictures of him and Allison (They may not be engaged, but they already are in my eyes, and every picture is worth a thousand words).
  
  And while I am at it, here is my little About Me page. Yes, I do not know HTML or Java, but the page fills in those extra minute details about who I am.
• And yet another Erin commentary.
  
  Tonight (May 17, 2003), I drove Erin home from Steve's house. It was just so much fun talking to her about anything and everything for a good 20 minutes, and as I checked my cell phone while driving her, I noticed that I had not really stuttered. I spoke in a calm and clear manner, and I "maintained fluency" (As per what my speech therapists would always call it). I have noticed that this only happens around people I know relatively well and feel comfortable around; there is zero nervousness and it is independent of the atmosphere. Being conscious of the fact that I could speak clearly around Erin was reassuring, like knowing that your paper that you wrote in ten minutes will actually get a passing grade.
  
  Now, I just have to get Erin a box of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream. Steve already got his box of Sweet Cream with Cookies today, so Erin is next on the list at this point.

Words That We Couldn't Say

Words that we couldn't say (Cowboy Bebop)
Someday maybe
We'll make it right
Until that day
Long endless nights
We couldn't say them
So now we just pray them
Words that we couldn't say

Last Friday (May 5, 2003), I got a call on my cell phone from my friend Brandon while I was at work. He briefly mentioned something about going to see a movie with Steve, but the main chunk of his conversation was aimed at the two of us hanging out somewhere. I agreed to call him back after I got out of work because I was a bit busy at the time. Ten hours later, I called him back, and he immediately wanted to come pick me up so we could hang out at his "friend's" apartment (I say "friend" because the person in question is borderline friend-acquaintance). It took me four times of telling him "I need to get a shower and eat some dinner" for him to understand that I would not be ready if he were to come pick me up at that very moment. He told me to call him back after I had done those two things, and I agreed to do just that.

I never called Brandon back that night.

I called up Steve after finishing dinner because I wanted clarification on the movie part of the conversation that I had had with Brandon earlier. Steve wanted the five of us (Steve, Allison, Erin, me, and Brandon; I find it a bit funny how I want to group myself with Erin even though proper English grammar dictates that the "me" or "I" goes at the end) to go see X-Men 2 at a local movie theater, and I thought it was a good idea (As opposed to hanging out with Brandon, spending the night getting high, and feeling like shit the next morning at work). However, plans never seem to survive their first contact with reality intact. We ended up going to Allison's house (Where she invited Jessica Caso over, but Jess has little to do with what we did) and played Trivial Pursuit for an hour or two.

None of us bothered to call Brandon.

With five players, we did not get all that far into Trivial Pursuit, partially because no one was especially good at the game and partially because we did not give the game enough time to be played out in full. After the game faded away, we sat around the television in Allison's basement and watched an English soccer game (All three girls are currently in soccer, even with Jess going to college), and I enjoyed my time sitting with Erin on one of the couches. We sat close to one another even though the couch was not small, and it felt great (Great does not begin to describe the feeling). Erin and I physically touched one another in different places and even held that touch for several minutes at a time, but never once did it feel awkward or wrong. It always felt nice. It was soothing to smell her; her odor is far from overwhelming but still holds its own presence. I may not be in a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship with Erin yet, but spending a good hour with her like that was a small slice of bliss.

I completely forgot about Brandon.

A few centuries ago, there was a death penalty technique referred to as "stoning" whereby stones were placed upon a person's chest until the person broke. I always have that feeling whenever I think of Erin but I cannot be with her, physically or in spirit; the feeling that there is just so much weight placed upon my chest that it slowly begins to crumble faster and faster beneath mounting pressure. It is just that feeling of an implosion that is impossible to evade because it is something that you carry around with you all the time. This feeling has no name, but if I had to name it, I would call it "Desiring love."

I have not talked to Brandon in days.

I mention both Brandon and Erin because I find a dilemma cropping its ugly head up: I try to get closer to Erin and I end up getting further from Brandon at the same time. If I cannot handle this dilemma correctly, I could lose both of them; losing even one of them would be terrible. If I can somehow find a compromise between both, I fear that I will not make any headway with Erin, or that the opposing interests of both Erin and Brandon would somehow tear me apart. Brandon is heavily into drugs and alcohol and he wants to "share" that with me, but if I were to be getting high everyday and drinking in the mornings to wake me up, that would probably turn off Erin from having any thoughts of getting into a closer relationship with me. At the same time, if I were to never consume drugs or alcohol again in order to please Erin, Brandon would undoubtedly get pissed off at me for "rejecting" that side of him.

I lack the words to say what desperately needs to be said, and this has nothing to do with my stutter. I need to be able to tell Erin my feelings for her, so that she may understand some of the feelings that run through my veins for her. I need to be able to say "Erin, I love you" to her face. At the same time, I need to be able to tell Brandon that, while he may love getting high as a kite everyday, I do not and cannot less I sacrifice all of my efforts towards getting with Erin. However, I need to learn to incorporate both Erin and Brandon into my schedule more and more with making as few and as small of sacrifices as possible.

Note: Took a few days off of writing this entry at this point.

At Erin and Allison's last soccer game, they lost, effectively ending their soccer careers in high school. After games, the girls soccer team usually goes over to the concession stands to meet their friends and family (I guess it is just a subconsciously decided meeting point, or something that one person does and everyone else follows), and Allison was the only one to come over. She was in tears because of their loss, and Erin did not even come over (Even though her family was there at the game). About an hour and a half later back at Hershey High School, the girl's team was dropped off, and I had decided to stay around and greet them all as they got off (Which brings up the question of whether that would be called a really "sweet" move or signs of a stalker). Allison was still in tears, and Erin was in tears as well. However, there seemed to be a large shift in mood: what were once tears of sadness over losing were now tears of sadness over never being able to play with their team again.

I gave Erin a hug at that point, but I question this move on my part; was this hugging just something used to comfort her or to comfort myself. My intention was to comfort her, seeing as how I rarely do ever hug her, and this would be seen as something "rare" or "special." However, what if I just wanted to comfort myself? As I think about that prospect, it feels almost like having sex with a woman who just recently lost a family member; there is no meaning in the sex, and you are "using" the woman when she is in extreme emotional distress. Basically, taking advantage of someone else when they are in a "weakened" position. As awkward as this possibility may sound, it is not something that I want to dismiss altogether.

Erin's eyes may not be very pretty, but she has an excellent smile and a good personality to boot.

Brandon has called my cell phone multiple times in the past few days (He even got one of his friends to call my cell phone in an "effort" to get me to respond), but I have not bothered to call him back. I question my actions, wondering if this is the proper move that a friend should make. Ignoring friends is not what other friends do, but at the same time, I do not want to be constantly pulled in directions that I hate or dislike. This brings up another topic for another entry, but that will happen at another time. I understand how a lot of drugs work through first-hand knowledge and use of them, but using drugs makes me lose control of who I am. As I think of this happening, I am reminded of Brandon. If there was ever a drug I needed, I could get it from Brandon in as little as 30 minutes. However, I do not feel a need to use drugs on a regular basis; Brandon wishes to force it upon me.

Some may say that Brandon is only encouraging me to smoke weed or snort cocaine with him, but that is an incorrect statement. In the past five months, every time I have seen Brandon, drugs always enter the picture in one way or another. I will go over to his house, and he will want me to down shots of cheap vodka with him for little or no reason. I will go over and hang out at one of his friend's apartments, and he will want me to smoke a few bowls and then drive home. It is a constant peer pressure to do drugs, and I honestly do not know why I should not be able to enjoy life without getting high as fuck everyday. It just feels as if every time I go hang with him, I will have drugs thrust upon me despite any wish to remain "clean."

Saying "No" is the hardest part.

On paper, it is easy to write "No, I don't want to take drugs"; in a DARE class, it is easy to promise "I will always remain drug-free." However, try saying those lines to a friend of yours who you have known for many years. Those lines are useless when telling a friend "No," because in some sense, refusing drugs from a friend is also refusing your friend. If they support it and you casually toss it aside, you trivialize what they hold dear.

While I do not want to deny either Erin or Brandon, I know that I will be forced to make a choice sooner or later. Something that I need to find is the courage to tell both of them what is needed. For Erin, I need to properly communicate my feelings to her about how I think we should get into a relationship together. For Brandon, I need to properly communicate that I do not always want to take drugs, and that when I tell him "No, I don't feel like doing a gravity bong now," I am not "throwing away" who he is; I am "throwing away" drugs.

But these words elude me at their most needed moments.

Bygone Talk

Call me a lazy bastard, but I felt like posting an old "autobiographical" paper that I had due in Political Science 1375 (Religion and Politics) this past semester. Should be an interesting read...

Eric Joseph
Political Science 1375
January 17, 2003

Judging by the results of the religious survey taken last Friday, I am a secular humanist. To be quite honest, I never have heard of the term “humanist,” so it did come as quite a shock. At first, I thought the results were wrong, however, as I read into the description of what a humanist is, I agreed with it more and more. I checked out some sites regarding humanism, and for one of the few times in my life, I was stumped by the fact that I had nothing to argue against being one. Usually, whenever I am classified as a specific something, I feel the need to argue against my being that.

For example, last semester, after speaking with the school, I was deemed to be disabled because I have a stutter. My argument against being labeled as “disabled” is that it is suppose to be an excuse for many things, but I find that it is only a burden. Since I do not want to be burdened by such labels, I do not feel that I am disabled. I would tend to agree with the label “handicapped” because it denotes an ability to still function but slightly hindered, while disabled denotes broken, needless, and inoperative. Some people may feel that changing this wording is only a way to fool myself into believing that I am something more than what I already am, but I think that it helps both sides on a subconscious level.

Anyways, onto the meat of this paper. I feel that since I am not held to any religious belief, I am better able to see political issues in a different light. By that, I mean that a majority of the population of the United States is religious, and since most of them grew up regarding their religion as “superior” in one way or another, they are going to tend to go one way over another. Another way to put it is that since all religions have an agenda and since people are influenced by their personal religion’s agenda, their views are much closer to their own religions despite any of their protests against such accusations. Since the world of politics has to do with people, and more specifically, interactions between people, there is a war of agendas constantly being waged as people try to do or have done what they want. Thus, it is safe to say that religions persuade a majority of this war of agendas.

Where might I come into all of this? Well, I do not have any ties to any religion, thus I am not held to any specific ideology. In this fashion, I am free to think and do as I please without feeling that I may have gone against anyone in particular. As far as my own agenda goes, I guess you can say that it is manipulated by a philosophy called humanism, but seeing as how I have never read any books pertaining to humanism and that I was born from a family that was half Protestant and half Jewish (Sorry, but I do not know which specific sects or factions they are from), I feel that I am not bound by humanism.

As far as what is on my agenda, I am searching for a place where we (Humanity) can live our lives in peaceful days, with no wars and no stealing; a place that is not run by fear; a place where people can live and can actually trust other human beings. I think I would call this place paradise. However, now that I have a defined ends, the means is where politics comes into play. My idea may sound like a bunch of bullshit on paper because there is no one way to get to this paradise. I would like to believe that it would take a collective effort in order to realize such a dream, however, as much as I would die to make such a place a reality, there would probably be even more people who would want to stop such a dream from coming true.

Before I came back to Pitt from Christmas vacation, my mother told me to fill out a voter registration form because I had not done so for the previous elections in November. I went down the form, filling out all of the boxes and writing in what they wanted. However, probably the one part that surprised me the most about me was the box marked “Political Affiliation.” I feel that I am a pretty liberal person, and most people would guess that I would have checked the small box next to either “Democrat” or “Green.” The weird thing is that I marked “No affiliation.” Some people may just wonder what may be wrong with that, or perhaps why I was weirded out by my own response in such a way. I think it was because I did not want to feel any obligation to vote for any party in particular.

Admit it to yourself, but when you say that you are a Democrat or a Republican, you feel as if you should vote for them despite what their platform is. I know that is what many people feel. And sometimes, it is the other way around; people vote for a party not out of obligation for their own party, but rather out of an obligation to not vote for the other party. Forget what the issues are in the campaign, because it becomes irrelevant to some people at this point. Parties simply become names for some people, and issues become meaningless.

For me, I like to look over all sides of the issues and see who stands where. I might be liberal, but that does not mean that the conservative side of the spectrum is not home to some perspectives that I consider being correct. The one thing that I do hate is when people blindly vote for a party without understanding or even knowing what issues that party is supporting. I will use my own mother as an example. She is a major advocate for a women’s right to abortion, so often times, her vote will usually hinge upon which candidate supports abortion. If all candidates support abortion, then it comes down to party, because she makes an automatic assumption that Democrats are right and Republicans are wrong. Never mind the fact that perhaps the Republics may support a better social security system, or that Democrats may support the building of a national defense system that 95% of the population is vehemently opposed to. She puts her blinders on to such things, and labels parties as black or white. I guess in some ways, that is her way of being a good citizen, but I see it as almost disrespectful towards the hardworking men and women who dedicate their lives towards the political world. Yeah, I may not agree with what some of them represent, but I should at least look over and understand their issues before I vote.

Quite honestly, I am not sure what you were expecting from this paper. Perhaps you wanted some long dissertation about my political attitudes towards major issues confronting the United States in today’s day and age, or maybe you wanted our own stories on how we came to form our beliefs of right and wrong. Whatever you were looking for in this paper, I probably either nailed it on the head or I briefly spoke about it. On the other hand, maybe the point of the paper is to simply allow me to reflect upon what I wrote down later. Whatever the point may be, I guess that is what each person who reads this paper has to come to a decision on.

I am not exactly sure why I decided to bring up this particular paper, as it did not really pertain to much of the class' material, but as I read over it, I realize that I wrote it in a similar fashion as how I write a lot of these entries. I start off with a basic idea, and from there, I usually go off on different tangents relating to that idea. However, some entries (Particularly the "Faces" entry) seem to lack a general direction in their construction.

Not trying to bring politics into everything, but I would say that I lean closer to being liberal than I do being conservative. With this fact in mind, I try to be objective towards both sides, whatever the situation may be.

At Erin's last soccer game (Another thing: I always find a way to bring Erin into a journal entry), they were playing the first round of districts against Penn Manor. Although I may not be the best soccer referee (Seeing as how I do not know all of the proper rules and I did not have the proper perspective of the field), I would always call fouls regardless of the side and score. I can remember Allison intentionally nailing some other girl out on the field and she did not get called for it. The same would happen with Penn Manor. However, as being a fan, one thing always irked me: parents and fans would always scream out "Foul" or "Obstruction" when there was clearly no foul or obstruction on the field of play. This seemed like a clear sign of not being objective to what is going on almost to the point of ruining the game.

I just hope that the referees were as objective in their calls as possible.

Another aspect that I took in this paper: paradise. Many different people have many different definitions of paradise. I pretty much ripped the first line of the fifth paragraph from an episode of Trigun (Said by Vash in episode 22), but it got across an idea that I hold dearly: my view of what paradise is and should be. And just like I said in that same paragraph, I would die to make that paradise a reality, and as much as I would die to make it happen, many more people would die just to prevent that paradise from being created. It may not be that these people do not want a paradise to be created, but rather, because they do not want my paradise to be created. My idea would be of a utopia, but incidents going on around me all the time make me question whether or not human beings would be able to handle a utopia; true "perfection" is in the eye of the beholder, and also, people have a habit of being destructive after everything is said and done.

I wonder what thoughts I wrote down further into the past. Sooner or later, time will tell.

Stray Thoughts

Please note that this post was written out over a period of a few days.

• I received my grades from Pitt by mail yesterday (May 3, 2003). Amazingly, I passed all of my classes even though I turned in almost nothing for Religion and Politics (Which I got a B- in). It looks like I will be a junior at Pitt in four months. Wonders never cease...
• I have an immense dislike for people who drag their feet. You know those people who walk along and all you hear is *SCUFF SCUFF SCUFF* from their shoes because they are too lazy to pick them up another inch. Okay, I let that go for the people who are physically inhibited and cannot walk normally, but I see so many people everyday that walk along and drag their feet on the pavement like the gravity was cranked up an extra 2 Gs, and these are usually the people without any physical problems.
  
  I think this says a lot about the person's character, namely that they are probably lazy in one way or another, and that they could be shallow. It annoys me to see this going on all the time. It is not like everyone does this, but more than enough do drag their feet. If I ever did something like this, I would probably kill myself (Or let it slide because it would be "Okay" by my different standards on my different self; I probably would not even notice it).
• I cannot stop thinking about Erin. I hope my thoughts and feelings for her are not fleeting like a crush or something similar. I know I have never loved someone in this way before, and as much as I want to "get it right the first time," I do not want to feel like some ronin for the rest of my life.
  
  Last night (May 4, 2003), Allison and Steve wanted to borrow Lance's car so Allison could practice driving stick shift. Afterwards, we went to Friendly's and had ice cream, and I told Allison how I felt about Erin (Steve already knew prior, but had not told Allison about it). It felt nice telling someone else my feelings directly and then receiving feedback on what to and what not to do. Allison even asked me, "Eric, do you want to have a girlfriend who is constantly cheerful, upbeat, always going places, and does not usually has a lot of time for any one thing?" I hesitated in answering her only because she said practically everything that I had already knew and thought about Erin, but I gave her a "Yes" in short order and without any doubts. Allison then asked me, "Eric, can you stop drinking and smoking while you are with Erin?" I replied with a laugh, "You act like that would be difficult."
• The running joke with my mother is that she should become a professor at Pitt and teach Blonde Logic 101 class (Brunette Logic 201 is down the hall). This started last Sunday, and my mother laughed at this prospect, considering it a joke aimed only at her occasional stupidity. After saying this joke multiple times, it completely lost all humor that it once had and no longer became funny. However, I began calling her the Professor (I will stop referring to her as this in a few days when she understands that she should quit acting like an idiot all the time), and I think she is mostly annoyed with this constant "harassment" I throw at her. Whatever... She is the one who could not figure out how to open up my grade report from Pitt even though it said clearly "Tear Here" in three spots.
  
  Knowing how she is, maybe I will just refer to her as the Professor for the rest of the summer.
• I am currently trying to "audit" myself and figure out exactly how much I have spent on purchasing anime (Usually in the form of DVDs). I know that it will add up to at least $1,200, and I know that my friends and family would be horrified to learn this fact. Yet, I know that no one has a problem with my mother refinancing the house just so they can purchase two cars that they really do not need at all. I wonder if they would be horrified to know how much money I have spent on purchasing books throughout the years (I already have shelves of read books and a box full of unread books, and I know that it would all add up to at least $1,500). What about computer games?
• My parents keep on dumping more and more shit into my room as if it was a second closet. I have no problem with them doing that when I am at college, but when I am living at home for the summer, they need to learn to not fill up my room with garbage. Now that I give it some thought, I should just bring a garbage can into my room (I forgot to mention, but my room is the smallest in the house; even the guest room makes my room look like a small box by comparison) so I can just dump out all of this shit that is laying around. Who collects those "collectible" Hess trucks? Either way, the next time there is a garage sale at my house, I am going to drag that garbage bag full of stuff out to the driveway and mark it for 1¢. If that does not do the trick, then I am sure that the garbage men will be less than happy to drag it away.
• I looked through my senior year yearbook from high school (Called the Choclatier 2001) the other day, and afterwards, I could not tell if I was scared or delighted. I glanced through all of the pictures, and without looking at the name titles, I could not even remember a quarter of the people's names. I know for a fact that I could name all of the people in my graduating class by the sound of their voices only a scant two years ago, and now, I have a problem recognizing who Rebecca Gassert (Voted the Best Looking by my class, and she definitely deserved it) even though I knew a dozen guys who told me that they wanted to rape her until she bled (Not surprisingly, I found talk that was more disturbing than that throughout high school). I find that it is scary simply because I spent a good chunk of my life (Nine years) with most of these people for nine months of a year and I cannot remember their names; at the same time, I am relieved to know that I do not know most of their names because a lot of them were complete assholes and I could care less if they lived or died. This will be something that I will have to spend some time pondering about.
• Yesterday (May 4, 2003), I went to Hersheypark for "orientation" at 10 AM. I had a problem with waking up then, and I know that I will have to wake up at 6 AM most days just to get to work on time. Anyways, I got to "orientation," and it was a bad joke. Most of the content was directed at people working in the Foods department, and although I work in the Foods Warehouse, we are entirely separate by rules and responsibilities. I could care less about customer service (I found it weird that they want to refer to customers as "guests" but they call them "customers" while "orienting" their staff) simply because I am almost never physically inside of the park; I drop off food at certain places around the park, and verbal contact with guests is kept to a minimum, which is usually "Sir/Miss, please get out of my way" or "No, the Wild Cat is straight down this path and is directly across from the Mouse." Nevermind that there are enough maps scattered all over Hersheypark so that even a blind man could find a way from point A to point B in a matter of seconds, but they feel the need to bother me for directions while I am carrying around 120 lbs of melting ice that is for keeping their soda cold.
  
  As I think about this more, I realize something: how am I going to juggle work and a relationship with Erin? The problems keep on piling on...
• Bert spends most of his days on my bed. He is my teddy bear, and this is something that most people find mildly disturbing whenever they do find out that I sleep with a teddy bear. There is nothing special about him; peach-colored fur, two black beads for eyes, and a brown nose. He wears a pink-red bracelet around his neck that serves as his necklace (The running joke with it is that he got it at Mardi Gras in New Orleans) as well as medical tape wrapped around his right leg with writing on it reading, "Get well soon! Ali, Erin." In short, a cute little teddy bear.
  
  I remember getting him almost two years ago after I screwed up my right leg in a four-wheeler accident. Allison and Erin came over one afternoon a few days after my accident and gave me a few things to cheer me up (Besides Bert, this also included a plastic rose, a bottle of "anti-stress" bubble bath, and their company), and it was all greatly appreciated. Since then, I have subtly "grown close" to Bert by taking him almost everywhere that I go. If I am at Pitt, I will just leave him on my desk, but if I may be going home for the weekend, I will take him with me. There is no attraction towards him in any way, but more of a sign of respect towards who he is. He may be an inanimate object, but I think he represents something critical: caring.
• I started reading Battle Royale by Koushun Takami almost a week ago, and although I am only 200 pages into it, I find something a bit disturbing: I had this exact same idea for a television show, and I thought that this is what "Survivor" was supposed to end up being. The whole "Survivor" television series ended up being "the pussy way out" in my mind, and I thought that if they wanted real television, they should create a show where people are dropped off on an island and are forced to kill one another. In short, natural selection on live television. Show people just how disgusting and brutal killing really is, and make them realize that wars create no glory and no heroes. Of course, I know that this message would be skewed in the end just to get better ratings and whatnot.

I have to remember to try this format on a later date. It is fun to have the "oddball" every once in a while to talk about little things instead of long "essays" used to discuss only one topic.

The Hedgehog's Dilemma

The Hedgehog's Dilemma from Arthur Schopenhauer's "Parerga and Paralipomena"
To keep themselves warm, the hedgehogs huddled together causing them to be pricked by each others' spines, thus making them keep a distance from each other. As the night wore on, they huddled and separated until finally they found a common, bearable distance from both their spines and the cold.

I think that I may be in love.

Many problems seem to stem from my stuttering problem, and simply ignoring them does not fix them. For a good six years of my life, I spent everyday in school being tormented for being different, and this is not some pity vote. I can remember catching flak from everyone about anything, whether it was because I wore the wrong pants to saying the wrong thing to saying anything at all. Consequently, I am always apprehensive to do many things. While I always want to reach out to everyone however I can, I am hindered by this communication obstacle that I cannot get around. I hate my stutter and it usually only helps to make me hate myself, who I am.

While I am hesitant to reach out to someone else for love, it is something that I just want; something that I can feel in my bones. This is not some silly "I need a quick fuck and I will be alright" situation. In fact, it has almost nothing to do with sex. If it was only sex, then this would be an easy situation and I could have hopped into bed with a number of women throughout my years. Hell, the whole virginity debacle is overrated as far as I am concerned, and I would have no problem with "giving it up" if the problem was only a need for sex. I will not deny that sex is apart of this feeling, but it is only a small portion. There is far more to a relationship than just sex, and for anyone who believes that the only fun in a relationship comes from sex, I pity them.

Her name is Erin Schmucker.

I met Erin for the first time back in my senior year of high school, and at the time, I was a bit annoyed with her constant upbeat and cheerful attitude, although I do not know why I was like that (Perhaps it was the "senior year attitude"). My friend Brandon told me to take her to the senior prom, but I did not want to. By this time, I was cool with Erin, but I had my eyes set on taking Courtney George (Actually, I initially wanted to take Amanda Frankeny, but I never worked up the courage to ask her, and the fact that I had friends that directly knew Courtney made it a lot easier). In short, Courtney dumped me at the prom, and that was the closest I have ever come to literally killing someone before. For a more detailed account of what exactly happened at my senior prom, click here, but in short, it was bad. However, I think that the turning point that brought me back to my humanity was when I danced with Erin. My eyes were still teary from crying so much, but as I danced with her, my tears dried up and I felt bliss.

The next Homecoming dance at my high school (Which took place during my freshman year at college) was spent with Erin. The dance itself was a big "bleh," meaning that it sucked, but my time spent with Erin was a blast. I openly admit to being one of the worst dancers to ever walk on Earth, but dancing with Erin made me feel like I could make John Travolta look like a one-legged idiot next to me. I cannot keep a beat, but with Erin, I could do anything. I felt like I was ten feet tall; like I could take on the whole world and be home in time for breakfast; like I was in love.

Erin makes me want to be a better man.

Let me clear up a few things about Erin. She is not hot at all, but she is definitely cute, and I could easily call her beautiful without feeling that I was lying or twisting my own words. She is two years younger than I am and has yet to graduate from high school. She is a small Caucasian girl who is one of the kindest people I have ever known, and when I call her kind, I call her "kind" to the point of being ignorant about some things (Mostly in sexual matters). She makes friends very easily and I would have a hard time believing that anyone could hate her. She is very cheerful to the point that it is depressing as hell to see her in pain or just not happy; when she smiles, it makes you want to smile as well. I would not say that she is an intellectual person, but she is definitely smart; she lacks that certain complexity to make me want to say that she is a "deep thinker," but she is still intelligent.

Erin is a Mormon.

I mention this religious aspect not simply for the sake of making some idiotic comment like "OMFG, SEH'S MORMOM!!!111" or anything like that, but because I know that it is a subject that would come up sooner rather than later were we to get into a serious relationship. This is only one issue that makes me hesitant to get into a relationship with her; I am not Mormon and she is. I may be incorrect, but from my understanding of Mormonism, I would have to be converted in order for us to become married, and I do not intend on joining a religion simply because I am in love with a lovely lady. I realize that marriage requires a lot of compromises, but I feel that changing myself in such a fashion is going a bit too far. I fully respect her beliefs, but twisting myself in such a way would be manipulating who I am; I have no belief in a god, nor do I plan to ever adopt such beliefs.

Last night (May 2, 2003), we (Steve, Allison, Erin, and I) went to Applebee's for dinner, and I can say that we had a good time (Now that I think about it, I have not discussed who Allison is; basically, Allison is Steve's "fiancée," a term that they do not like to use but I use because of their very close relationship). While there, a few things of interest happened. Other than the usual chit chat, I found out that Erin enjoyed making out, which was a plus for me, because knowing how nothing sexual would ever happen with her until marriage, making out is still a lot of fun (Something that I found out through another incident that I may discuss in the future). A possible big minus was when Allison said to Erin, "Yeah, and when you do go to your college (I forget the exact name of the college, but it is suppose to be a Mormon college), you can find hot guys there and actually date them." I say that this is a possible minus because Allison always has this ring to her voice that makes it sound like she is being sarcastic most of the time. However, if she was being serious when she said that, then I fear that any relationship with her beyond friends would be impossible.

I fear rejection. There is no hate of rejection, but definite fear, and a reasonable one at that. I do not want to be cast aside by someone that I treat as a friend or something similar. I remember being rejected by Courtney at my senior prom, and it felt horrible, disgusting, disheartening, and scary. I think that was the first time I ever truly felt rejection on a more personal male-female level. Once tasted, it is a feeling that I will never forget, just like the first time you ever smell burning human flesh. I am afraid that if I am rejected by Erin, my perspective of her will change for the worse, which is not something I want but is almost involuntary. I like Erin as a friend and I want to be in a closer relationship, but I do not want to taste rejection again, not on that level.

However, I am jumping ahead of myself by thinking about long-range plans; I have yet to actually start dating Erin, and I always have nagging doubts in the back of my mind about this desire. I do not wish to "toot my own horn," but this is the part that sucks about being intelligent: you think about everything from multiple angles in order to have a better grasp of it and yourself. I cannot help but to think about one possibility: Erin does not like me in the same way that I wish/perceive. Another equally disturbing possibility: I do not know how to love someone else. These are possible avenues I cannot deny existing, almost like how I cannot deny the mask on my own face most of the time. I do not want to believe that they can exist, but they may.

Maybe Erin does have similar feelings for me.

I fear the Hedgehog's Dilemma. I fear that Erin and I are at our comfortable distance from one another, where we know that we cannot get any closer without hurting one another in some way and where we know that we cannot back away from each other without leaving one another feeling "cold." I always try to take down my spines in attempts to be closer, but I know that as I am taking down some spines, others that I may not see in time are going up. I want to get closer, even if that may mean that I could be hurt by whatever happens. I have been a hedgehog for so long in an effort to protect myself, but now that I want to be close to someone else, I find that I may hurt her unintentionally while protecting myself.

I find myself at a pivotal junction in my life: take a chance and try to get into a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship with Erin (For all of the knowledge that I possess, I still do not know how to "ask a woman out") or take the easy/lonely way out of it and just stay friends with Erin without trying to get closer. I know I could wade through piles of dead bodies while swimming through blood and bile, but I hesitate to ask a woman out on a date. Just knowing about this fact makes me feel pathetic, but I know something else: whether or not I am rejected by Erin, it will be a growing experience for me. At the same time, I do not want to feel that type of pain again, but I know that I will have to sooner or later.

Someone once asked me why I enjoy writing. I think that by writing, I can slowly take down those spines, one by one in an effort to get closer enough to someone else.

I am in love.