Live in a Cave?

It’s been a few days. I apologize to the few avid readers I’ve had. My world has been filled with math. I had a theory to move my research forward that took hours to convince myself was true. It is. My professor is sure I’ll have something that is worth publishing by the end of the school year. I’m not convinced, yet, but I do know I have taken a step in the right direction and finally gotten out of the stand-still we have been in for the past two weeks. I also have been sick of the lack of content in my writing.

Unfortunately, this weekend was not as work conducive as I would have liked in terms of writing. Hopefully I will be  able to find some time soon. I realized another essay I might like to write tonight. That puts five ideas with little work done on any of them. Unless I get extremely motivated tomorrow after my research meeting, I plan on writing and thinking tomorrow. I really want to do that.

Yesterday, I got stopped by some architects that were surveying my “dorm”. I guess UNI is planning on building another dorm soon, which is much-needed. They asked me a question that I easily answered, but have thought a bit about today. They asked me if I had talked with many of the other residents here. I told them that I was a bad person to ask since I am quite introverted. I realized that a good majority of my friends are introverted. We may not always be quiet around each other, but put us in a group of unknowns and we clam right up.

I’ve always been this way. My parents tell me that I had to talk to a lady to enter kindergarten. It was never an issue on whether or not I could handle the work, but merely whether or not I could interact with the other children. I guess my parents gave me a heads up and they say I haven’t shut up since. That’s not entirely true, though. Even around my family, I can be quiet. I like to listen and observe. People watching is a favorite past time of mine; I plan on being the creepy old man who sits in the mall watching people.

I remember last Thanksgiving with my grandpa (his last). He made quick mention how quiet I was. I enjoyed just sitting there and listening to my family talk. I think it’s part of the reason I’ve become as “smart” as I am. I listen and absorb. I sit and think. I learn. Very easily.

Jessie may be one of my quietest friends. When we talk on the phone every night, at least 80 percent of the conversation is in silence. For most relationships, that is a sign of doom. For us, however, it is enjoyment. We can enjoy each other so much to even sit and listen to each other breathe. If it ever becomes boring or a pain for either of us, then something may be wrong. I don’t think (I hope not anyway) that will ever happen.

I honestly believe that I could go live in a cave and be perfectly content. Relationships ARE an important part of the human life and I care about them very much, but I could live by myself. I could be set to my own thoughts. I could learn and I could live that way. I don’t think I would ever be filled, nor would I enjoy life to its full, but I could do it easily.

So Tired

It’s 2 AM. I’m tired. It’s the weekend so I played some video games tonight. I got some research done earlier today as well as a bit of homework. Tomorrow, I read and write. I’ll probably play a few video games as well.

I went to lunch with a friend earlier today. He had never been to Quiznos before. I thought that sad and needed to be remedied. We ended up having a lot of great conversations from our lives to religion to economic and education reforms. It was a great hour and a half.

The fire was lit today. Now it just needs to stay burning.

Late Again

It’s late and I’m tired. It feels like a long time since I’ve blogged; I think it’s because I blogged at a reasonable time yesterday. We’ll, I ended up falling asleep and napping for five hours. Oops. So, I didn’t get much done today. I was planning on writing again and I have a possible “breakthrough” in my research so I’ve been working on that. There will hopefully be much time devoted to homework, research, reading, and most importantly writing this weekend. I do not have anything planned other than lunch with a friend tomorrow.

I had to work tonight. I was annoyed the minute I walked in. We have Christmas books up already…Yes, you heard me correctly. It’s not even Halloween and we have Christmas. I was honestly angry. Good news, however. I should be able to get a transfer to Barnes and Noble (maybe as early as November). That is good news because my store will be closed in January. That means possibly no work. I’ve applied at a couple of places and haven’t heard anything back. I guess we’ll see what happens.

Ok. Sleep time now. Hopefully, a fire will lite underneath my butt. It will both warm me up and get me moving on all of these ideas and promises I have. Until tomorrow.

Okay…

I got back from class about 2o minutes ago. I did my usually web-comic and blog rounds and decided to type up a little something. I may type another one later…maybe. This is two in ten hours.

I am what most people would call a lazy person. I can hear what my parents are going to say right now when they read this. When I decided I really wanted to start writing seriously, I began to let an extra amount of lazy slip into my math. I am still getting an A in both of my classes (and I already mentioned my research). However, I have not been applying myself.

One of my professors called me out on that today. However, she said that she gets lazy, too. She’s been sitting on a finished proof for quite a while now; she hasn’t formatted it or sent it into a journal, though. Well, today I was working  on a problem that has needed more thought. The graduate students in my class have all been working on it. I told my professor the idea I had and was sure I was wrong already. It turns out my way is the way she wants it done. Now that I’ve told her, she expects me to finish another on-going proof and use that to prove this other thing. This, I am sure, is confusing. Basically, I’m not allowed to be lazy anymore. Oh well.

Today, I’m going to take a quick nap, get a bite to eat, and start writing my essays I’ve been talking about. I doubt any of them will be finished today. After that, I will sit down and do some work in math. Then, I will hopefully find some time to read for a while. And finally, before going to bed, Old Chicago with my roommates. Hopefully all of this will happen.

Nothing New

My views per day have been fluctuating oddly. Oh well. I write because I want to write. I figured I can probably type up a quick deal here while I wait for Jessie to call. Tomorrow is a short day for me. I was supposed to work with someone and that got switched so I have the entire afternoon and evening ahead of me. I hope to spend some time on my essays that I want to write. I plan to. I will.

I had to represent the math department tonight and talk to any undecided majors or people interested in getting a math major. In an hour and a half, I had seven people come to my table. It felt odd since I really am not planning on that route for my life anymore. Thankfully, one of my friends was also representing so I got to spend some time talking to her. I haven’t seen her in a while since she is a math education major and recently married. It was a good night.

My adviser and I made some possible progress on research today. He also emailed the professor whose work we’re piggy-backing off of to see if were heading down a decent road or if we’re even understanding his paper. I don’t know when we’ll hear back from him. I also found out today that I should have my other paper in Perspectives of Death and Dying back on Thursday. We’ll see.

Ok…Time to call Jessie myself and then get some sleep. I’m out.

Lenny

A few more views again today. Tonight I’m going to cheat. I wrote a paper for my Perspectives of Death and Dying class about my grandfather. I feel like it could have been better, but my teacher and parents disagree. I thought I would share it here. So, without further delay:

My grandfather died March 29, 2009. His death was expectedly unexpected. Leonard Roepke lived eighty-one years. He grew up during the Great Depression and joined the military at a young age. Lenny was a hard man; his generation was one of “manly” men. He rarely showed his emotion. The only time I saw him cry was at my grandmother’s funeral. Her death was truly unexpected.

When I was ten years old, I remember Christmas very well. My parents told my brother and me that we were having family Christmas in the hospital. This was going to be grandpa’s last Christmas. My entire extended family was there. We shared laughs and joys, but we all were wondering the same thing: how long did grandpa have? He was out of the hospital in a couple of months. A couple years later, we had Christmas in the hospital again. Again, my grandfather left.

Out of nowhere, my grandmother was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. We were all confused. Within six months, she was gone. My grandfather cried. I really began wondering why she was gone and grandpa was still here. He was in and out of the hospital. She went almost straight to Hospice. It seemed odd to me.

My family held a party for my grandfather’s eightieth birthday a few years later. I was not able to attend, but my parents told me I needed to see him. We did not know how much longer he would be around. I took it with a grain of salt; I had heard this before. I visited my grandfather on the day of his birthday. He knew my face but could not remember my name. That day changed everything for me.

I saw pain in my grandfather’s eyes that I had never seen before. We sat in the kitchen of his house and talked. He talked, I listened. He told me stories from wars, stories from his childhood, and stories about his life. Occasionally there would be a name or place or event he could not remember. He was very frustrated and told me so. It hurt him that he could not remember the names of kids he grew up with. Family and friends he had known his entire life. He was as close to crying as I had ever seen. My heart broke a bit that day and I was numb driving home.

My grandfather went to a nursing home not long after. The next two Thanksgivings had a similar feel: we had all the family that could make it in the nursing home. It might be grandpa’s last. A few months after his last one, he fell out of bed. He was sent to the hospital. He had broken ribs, crushed vertebrae, and had large masses in his lungs that were not there three months earlier. This was it.

When my parents called me, I did not know how to react. It seemed surreal. I had heard this tale many times before. When I visited the hospital, I had dinner with my family and a cousin who works at there. We joked that grandpa was going to leave the hospital again. I think we all hoped for it, but did not really believe it. What were we supposed to think, though?

While I was there, Lenny spent most of his time sleeping. I saw much of my extended family shuffling in and out that day. At times, it was very noisy. My grandfather, when awake, became very frustrated. He yelled at people who laughed at a joke, always feeling it was at his expense. As I watched him throughout the day, I got the impression he felt scared and even alone. He had seen almost all his family in just a week, yet he seemed isolated. He knew it was the end. I do not believe he was afraid of death, but was unsure. He had been here so many times in the past, yet this time it was real.

As I was leaving and saying goodbye to my grandfather, I held his hand. He gripped tighter than I honestly think he had strength for. I sat there for nearly thirty minutes holding his hand. I wanted to cry because I realized that he really was afraid of being alone. A week later, he died.

In the last two years of Lenny’s life, I learned more from listening and watching him than I had my entire life. I saw and felt emotion from him that I never knew he had. I believe the era my grandfather grew up in effected the eighty year old man he became. He was taught to never show emotion. Joining the military when he was seventeen, he quickly learned emotion was weakness; it earned the ridicule of the other men.

I cannot remember ever hearing the word “love” from my grandfather’s mouth. I never saw anything more than anger or stoicism from him. Thinking back, however, he enjoyed the time family was around. He would sit on the couch or at his chair in the kitchen and watch. He would tell the same stories to anybody who would listen and even those who cared not to listen. He lived for these moments. This was his way of showing love. When he struggled keeping names and facts straight, he broke down. He lost his one way to express love.

At his funeral, I learned that my grandpa had been very involved in church. He led Sunday school, he served on the board, and he just loved serving in any way he could. I had wondered and feared about my grandfather’s faith, yet never had the courage to talk about it with him. It relieved me to know he cared so much about it. It was this event that I realized my grandpa was not afraid of death. My parents told me he had “awoken” one night in the hospital and had a conversation with my grandmother. He was ready to go.

I feel that much of the fear I felt from my grandfather came from two key factors: his inability to express his love to his family and that of dying alone. Those are the same fears I have myself. I think most people are that way.

PRE! PRE! PRE!

Sad, my views went down today. I really do hope to have a “bigger” post in the next couple of weeks. Really. No promise breaking this time.

I watched Prefontaine (1997) tonight. If you can’t guess (or don’t know), it is a movie about Steve Prefontaine. He was an amazing distance runner in the late 60’s and early 70’s whose career was cut short in an auto accident. He held all of the American records from the 2000 meter to the 10000 meter races at one point. That has never been done before or since. It is a pretty decent movie. I personally like Without Limits (1998) better.

I love watching movies like that. Right after finishing, I just wanted to run. It was a little late for my preference, but I did get my weights out to lift. The movie is pushing me to workout again. Like writing, I need to make it a habit.  That’s how motivation seems to work with me: something like a movie or a song pushes me. Since habits take so much time and work to form, however, I stop doing things after a couple of weeks.

I realized I need to really sit down and write. I have three pieces I want to write, but I need to make the time to do it. Same goes for reading. Same goes for a lot of things. So, Prefontaine, thank you for the motivation kick. I hope I can do something about it.

Sorry…

Three days in a row now with higher than normal, similar numbers to the hits on my blog. Thanks for reading!

So, that makes me feel bad. I promised a bigger post last night. However, as I started writing it today, I realized that it would be better to add it to my “more time” list. Ones that I want to spend more than 15 minutes writing. I want to make a legitimate essay out of them. So, I will work on these and hopefully have one in the next week or two.

I went to Where the Wild Things Are today. It was a good movie. Alex is obsessed with it.  My favorite part was a line towards the end that was taken directly from the book. It is not a kid’s movie. It is dark and has a lot of deep issues and thought in it. There is a lot to learn about family and relationships with others. I want to see it again, but that won’t be for a while.

I don’t know when I will write tomorrow. It will most likely be late again. I have a lot of reading for class tomorrow. I will also probably start writing my journal entry for it. Farewell.

Best Friend In Town

Do I have a number of readers now? Huh…

Alex is in town this weekend. We went out to coffee. Talked a little about life but we got into some great theological discussion. In my opinion, some of the best we ever have. I wish I could even begin to type everything we talked about. We then went to Old Chicago and finished out mini-tours. I liked two of the beers. I think my biggest problem the other night is I started with a beer I absolutely hated and that taste lingered and ruined the other beers I had.

Tonight was a good night. I always love spending time with Alex, and I am excited to do this a few more times before he heads back up to Minneapolis in January. We hung out with a couple camp people for a few hours. It was wonderful. I felt real tonight. I felt alive. I wish I had the finances and the gumption to get out more.

I am glad this week is over. It’s homecoming weekend. Say what you want, it doesn’t really mean much to me. Tomorrow, Alex and I are going to see Where the Wild Things Are. I’m excited for that. Alex has seen it once already. By next week that number jumps to four. He loves it.

I had planned to write a different blog tonight. I am too tired for that. I will promise to write it tomorrow. It is what I would call a good blog. It’s not just me regurgitating my daily activities and/or feelings. It’ll be a good, honest, meaningful blog. I’m excited for it. I love writing.

YAY! :(

Huh…I had some decent traffic today. A lot more than I normally do. I wonder why that is… Nice to have some readers, I guess.

Anyway, I decided there a couple of topics I want to write about. However, I would like them to be much more thought out than my quick blogs that I do. I normally like to write without thinking. Taking cue from Finding Forrester, I will do my first drafts of these essays without thinking. Then I will think and edit. When I am finished with those, they will be posted. I don’t know when that will be, though.

I had an interesting realization in my research meeting today. I’ve taken a lot of math over the years. It’s been a broad spectrum and I’ve learned a lot. It dawned on me today that I actually know very little. My math classes have barely scratched the surface. There is a lot I don’t know. It scares me for grad school (ya, I’m probably doing math in grad school. Then I’ll write for a living and do math on the side. I like that idea the best). I’m doing research that has to do with counting problems; it falls under a subject called combinatorics. I took that class freshman year. My professor alluded to the fact that we weren’t getting very deep into some of the concepts. I realize that know. It’s really hard to swim this far out in the ocean. Even my professor is a little lost. He didn’t study combinatorics in grad school, though. Yay! Not really.