Rooftops

I like sitting on rooftops whenever I get the chance. If somebody invited me to a rooftop, I would consider dropping everything I was doing at the time to join them just because I enjoy it.

I guess I’m a sucker for a good view. There is something about a good view that is very humbling: to stand atop something tall and soak in the awe and majesty of seeing more of the world than we were able to see from the ground just minutes earlier. For maybe even just one second, until our attention spans prevent the majesty of the moment to continue inspiring us, we take the focus off of ourselves.

It wasn’t always this way for me. The love of being high above things, I mean. When I was much younger, I was so afraid of heights that I refused to climb on the playground monkey bars that these days I’m actually taller than. I still remember the day where my friends Mark and Dustin told me to just suck it up, so I did, and we all three climbed up and sat there and soaked things in. My life changed at that very moment. Now, instead of always being afraid of falling, I had a thirst to climb to the top and soak everything in.

I never looked back from that moment. Rooftops. Mountains. Ladders. Balconies. Glass elevators. I can’t get enough of being above things. Continue reading “Rooftops”

Looking For Balance/Best Year Ever

Highs are fun. Lows are not. Balance can be pretty good too, I guess.

Because of balance, I haven’t felt the need to write on this blog as much. Or maybe more specifically, I haven’t felt the need to write about depression as much. Of course, part of that is due in large part to having less of a need to share publicly about stuff, thanks to much more happening right in front of me and so many people around me to reconnect with.

I probably owe you guys an update, though, so here are some bullet points. Continue reading “Looking For Balance/Best Year Ever”

How to be a Southerner: A “Barbecue” vs. A “Cookout”

Joseph and I have decided it’s time to educate folks on how to be a Southerner.  Here’s a helpful post on how to be just that.

Before you read the rest of this post, take this simple test:

If I invited you over to my house for a “barbecue,” you would expect to eat:

a. ribs, chicken, or pulled pork
b. hamburgers or hot dogs
c. I’m a vegan, so you probably don’t have anything for me

If you answered “a”, congratulations.  You can stop reading now, this isn’t for you.  If you answered “b”, this post is for you.  If you answered “c”, turn off your computer, throw it out the window, and stay off the Internet.  Forever. Continue reading “How to be a Southerner: A “Barbecue” vs. A “Cookout””

Evergreen

Excuses and reasons,
And now ’tis the season
for all that I never got right.

All that I’ve got is tonight.

The weather refuses to feel like winter. It lingers in its uniquely awkward southeastern style, sitting somewhere between cool and warm and looking overall depressing. It’s like visiting Seattle, but if Seattle was less depressed and more bipolar.

I sometimes wish that Mississippi had seasons other than “Hot” and “Not as hot”, but there is some bit of charm to be found in the few weeks we try to pass off as Autumn. The roads are accented with the bright reds and yellows of the leaves in their brief colorful time. But their struggle isn’t just against the very small amount of time the weather gives them to show off. It’s  a struggle to be seen at all as they are buried behind the persistent evergreens.

Evergreens. So many of them here, keeping December green. Living year round. Continue reading “Evergreen”

I Don’t Eat Fresh

I really hate Subway. Well, I think I do.

My major dilemma is that I like to keep my sandwiches simple. Of course, that’s the easy cop-out to admitting that I’m a picky eater. I’m much less picky than I used to be, that’s for sure, but I still can’t bring myself to enjoy lettuce or tomato. And the longer I live, the more I realize that lettuce and tomato are often the most necessary accessories on a sandwich.

Because of this, I learned to really enjoy sandwiches that don’t require lettuce or tomato. You know, like a Cuban or a nice pastrami on rye. All you really need on then is some mustard. It’s simple. Which maybe really is my reasoning behind things. Or maybe my denial of being a picky eater is so strong that I’ve convinced myself that simplicity is the reason. Continue reading “I Don’t Eat Fresh”