You knew the name. And now you know the face.
Come to think of it, I think I may have posted a picture way, way back in my blogging history, back last February. Sledding, I believe it was.
I was sixteen back then. So now you have another picture of my beautiful face. Just kidding, I'm not that narcisistic.
This was a halloween costume. I know it's a little bit late for a post on halloween last year, but hey, I was so caught up in everything that was going on, I didn't even think about it.
Anyway, this right here is the psychic awesomeness of EPIC MAN! That's right, EPIC MAN! Every time you see that name, you should hear the big, deep, echoey (is that a word?) voice announcing it like he would any other super hero. Take a moment. Just read the name. EPIC MAN! Hear the voice. EPIC MAN! Are you feeling it? I sure am. Oh yeah.
It's kinda funny how mild-mannered T-WAC became the Impecably Immimicable EPIC MAN! You see, there was a halloween party going on at my friend Harpo's house. We were all going, and though it was geared towards the younger kids, my bromie (that's right, brother and homie together in one word -- I have that much nerve) was gonna be there, and we would probably watch some TV, play some video games, eat some food, while the kids did their thing. Y'know, what kids do at parties. Or I could spend a while massaging the keys of his families cruelly neglected piano (which, in the end, I ended up doing).
Back to the story. I found myself without a costume. I didn't have my Gothic Leprechuan costume together, and I wasn't entirely sure what to do. And what does a teenager do with three minutes to spare before the car leaves? Says whatever and goes without a costume. But what does stubborn T-WAC do with three minutes to spare before the car leaves? There was no way I was going without a costume. I dug through my dresser and my closet, picking up anything that I thought could possibly work in a costume. I found a green cape with a hood that mom had made for me when I was thirteen, a red wig that I had used for a costume back at age ten (Durza the shade from Eragon -- Savanna, you remember that? How Adam saw me coming and flipped out? LOL), a pilot jacket (I don't know if that's the name of it, but when I was four, I distinctly remember seeing a picture of Charles Lindburg wearing one, and it's been a pilot jacket ever since), and a random tie I found. I never wear ties if I can at all help it, and I have very little practice actually tying them, so I figured it would be a nice addition.
Anyway, when we got there, I had mixed responses. The two most notable were that of my bromie, Harpo, and that of Harpo's brother's friend.
Harpo's reaction -- well, those of you who know him should have already guessed it. He looked at me, shook his head, and took some pizza off of the food table. He might have commented something along the lines of "You are so weird," before ignoring my apparel completely.
Harpo's brother's friends reaction was to inform me that I was not at all epic. But no one can say that to EPIC MAN! I hastily informed him that he was wrong, and that I was indeed epic. He argued, but his arguments were futile. He could not convince me that I was not epic, but he was unaware of that and continued to try. Ten-year-old boys.... Sigh....
Anyway, I take this moment to introduce to you Twister, my new younger brother, who was born on Saturday at 2:22 AM. Let me tell you, he is absolutely adorable. He's also extremely active. He was trying to roll over an hour after he was born. That's some crazy stuff. His eyes are very bright too. He's gonna be a handful once he gets older. Good thing Mom has all of us to help out.
So, the lineup is me, then Banana, then Boo, then TheBruiser, then Patar, then Twister.
I love my crazy family.
Okay, remember how I told you a bunch of posts back that I was getting better? Well, I though I was, but in actuality, I wasn't. I am proud to say, however that now, I am actually getting better. I got myself into a crazy situation, but thank God it's over now. It didn't end the way I wanted at all, though. But y'know, I just had to realize that letting go was the only way I could find peace.
Yeah, it's left me with some issues to deal with, but I'm gonna take care of 'em, 'cause that's who I am. I'm gonna take these on, and once I've eliminated them, I'm gonna be re-entering the dating world. Ish.
There are not many girls that have what I'm looking for. So, I'm gonna be open to dating, but not nessesarily looking. I want a strongly Catholic girl who is independent and shares, to an extent, at least, my passion for music. I want someone who loves me because she wants to. I want someone who loves me for who I am, because, let me tell you, if she doesn't, I'm gonna drive her insane. Of course, I'll also have to be crazy about who she is too. These criteria really limit my search down alot. She'll also have to be patient, 'cause I'm not one of those "kiss on the first date" kind of guys. Thanks but no thanks, too much emotional commitment too fast.
So, if someone by chance happens to fit those criteria, that's really cool. If not, then my fears are confirmed, and after four years of denial, I'll find myself stuck in a seminary. VOW OF CHASTITY, FOR THE WIN!
I started taking voice lessons a few weeks ago. My teacher gives you a choice as it comes to material. We get to perform three songs at the recital: one is a pop/rock/mainstream/alternative/whatever piece -- y'know, anything contemporary; one is classical; and one is pretty much whatever.
My contemporary piece is "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears For Fears. Because I can. I like that song.
My classical piece, which I just picked out today, is "Quella Fiamma" or something like that.
My whatever piece is "This Is The Moment" from Jeckle and Hyde.
So, I'm gonna be learning those and then performing at a recital! YAAY!
I've been writing some new songs lately, and I'm psyched. I'm expanding my style to include, of all things, soft rock. I didn't try to include that. I just wrote it. Odd, the way that happens. I thought that I did gothic rock, but I'm not entirely sure now. I pretty much write whatever I write.
Speaking of musical shtuffs, you have to check out this song. It's amazing. It's a beautiful duet, and if I knew a girl who liked Tears For Fears who had a decent singing voice, I would love to do this as a duet.
...okay, is it going to put in this video or what?
Why isn't this working!
This was a halloween costume. I know it's a little bit late for a post on halloween last year, but hey, I was so caught up in everything that was going on, I didn't even think about it.
Anyway, this right here is the psychic awesomeness of EPIC MAN! That's right, EPIC MAN! Every time you see that name, you should hear the big, deep, echoey (is that a word?) voice announcing it like he would any other super hero. Take a moment. Just read the name. EPIC MAN! Hear the voice. EPIC MAN! Are you feeling it? I sure am. Oh yeah.
It's kinda funny how mild-mannered T-WAC became the Impecably Immimicable EPIC MAN! You see, there was a halloween party going on at my friend Harpo's house. We were all going, and though it was geared towards the younger kids, my bromie (that's right, brother and homie together in one word -- I have that much nerve) was gonna be there, and we would probably watch some TV, play some video games, eat some food, while the kids did their thing. Y'know, what kids do at parties. Or I could spend a while massaging the keys of his families cruelly neglected piano (which, in the end, I ended up doing).
Back to the story. I found myself without a costume. I didn't have my Gothic Leprechuan costume together, and I wasn't entirely sure what to do. And what does a teenager do with three minutes to spare before the car leaves? Says whatever and goes without a costume. But what does stubborn T-WAC do with three minutes to spare before the car leaves? There was no way I was going without a costume. I dug through my dresser and my closet, picking up anything that I thought could possibly work in a costume. I found a green cape with a hood that mom had made for me when I was thirteen, a red wig that I had used for a costume back at age ten (Durza the shade from Eragon -- Savanna, you remember that? How Adam saw me coming and flipped out? LOL), a pilot jacket (I don't know if that's the name of it, but when I was four, I distinctly remember seeing a picture of Charles Lindburg wearing one, and it's been a pilot jacket ever since), and a random tie I found. I never wear ties if I can at all help it, and I have very little practice actually tying them, so I figured it would be a nice addition.
Anyway, when we got there, I had mixed responses. The two most notable were that of my bromie, Harpo, and that of Harpo's brother's friend.
Harpo's reaction -- well, those of you who know him should have already guessed it. He looked at me, shook his head, and took some pizza off of the food table. He might have commented something along the lines of "You are so weird," before ignoring my apparel completely.
Harpo's brother's friends reaction was to inform me that I was not at all epic. But no one can say that to EPIC MAN! I hastily informed him that he was wrong, and that I was indeed epic. He argued, but his arguments were futile. He could not convince me that I was not epic, but he was unaware of that and continued to try. Ten-year-old boys.... Sigh....
Anyway, I take this moment to introduce to you Twister, my new younger brother, who was born on Saturday at 2:22 AM. Let me tell you, he is absolutely adorable. He's also extremely active. He was trying to roll over an hour after he was born. That's some crazy stuff. His eyes are very bright too. He's gonna be a handful once he gets older. Good thing Mom has all of us to help out.
So, the lineup is me, then Banana, then Boo, then TheBruiser, then Patar, then Twister.
I love my crazy family.
Okay, remember how I told you a bunch of posts back that I was getting better? Well, I though I was, but in actuality, I wasn't. I am proud to say, however that now, I am actually getting better. I got myself into a crazy situation, but thank God it's over now. It didn't end the way I wanted at all, though. But y'know, I just had to realize that letting go was the only way I could find peace.
Yeah, it's left me with some issues to deal with, but I'm gonna take care of 'em, 'cause that's who I am. I'm gonna take these on, and once I've eliminated them, I'm gonna be re-entering the dating world. Ish.
There are not many girls that have what I'm looking for. So, I'm gonna be open to dating, but not nessesarily looking. I want a strongly Catholic girl who is independent and shares, to an extent, at least, my passion for music. I want someone who loves me because she wants to. I want someone who loves me for who I am, because, let me tell you, if she doesn't, I'm gonna drive her insane. Of course, I'll also have to be crazy about who she is too. These criteria really limit my search down alot. She'll also have to be patient, 'cause I'm not one of those "kiss on the first date" kind of guys. Thanks but no thanks, too much emotional commitment too fast.
So, if someone by chance happens to fit those criteria, that's really cool. If not, then my fears are confirmed, and after four years of denial, I'll find myself stuck in a seminary. VOW OF CHASTITY, FOR THE WIN!
I started taking voice lessons a few weeks ago. My teacher gives you a choice as it comes to material. We get to perform three songs at the recital: one is a pop/rock/mainstream/alternative/whatever piece -- y'know, anything contemporary; one is classical; and one is pretty much whatever.
My contemporary piece is "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears For Fears. Because I can. I like that song.
My classical piece, which I just picked out today, is "Quella Fiamma" or something like that.
My whatever piece is "This Is The Moment" from Jeckle and Hyde.
So, I'm gonna be learning those and then performing at a recital! YAAY!
I've been writing some new songs lately, and I'm psyched. I'm expanding my style to include, of all things, soft rock. I didn't try to include that. I just wrote it. Odd, the way that happens. I thought that I did gothic rock, but I'm not entirely sure now. I pretty much write whatever I write.
Speaking of musical shtuffs, you have to check out this song. It's amazing. It's a beautiful duet, and if I knew a girl who liked Tears For Fears who had a decent singing voice, I would love to do this as a duet.
...okay, is it going to put in this video or what?
Why isn't this working!
...There we go. I don't know why it decided to place it at the top of the post. Weird internet stuff. Oh well. I love this song. I would love to sing this as a duet. It would be more than amazing, and would absolutely make my day.
Anyway, I've been up way too late, and I should definitely go to bed.
1:00 AM bedtime and 10:00 AM mornings are not particularly healthy, especially not for a college student who needs to get accustomed to waking up at 6:00 AM for, oh, I don't know, next week. Summer Calculus. Fun. I have to sit through a three hour math class, three days a week. I can barely tolerate an hour-long math class. At the end, I'm ready to kill something. And what's worse, this is a five week course. Smushing all the calc crud into a third of the time it normally takes for a semester. Yeah. Crazy.
With some hard work, though, I should be able to make it through. It's gonna be hard, but I'll do it. And by make it through, I mean pull off an A. Yeah. Gotta love perfectionism.
Well, I managed to pull off A's this semester, despite all of the crap I was going through. It was hard, but I managed it. And hey, if I can make it through this and remain strong, I can make it anywhere.
God's done alot for me. More than I give Him credit for, I think. When it all comes down to it, He's the only reason I'm sane right now. He's the only reason I'm recovering.
Speaking of such things....
A few days ago, after church, an older woman walked up to me. She's known me since I moved here back when I was four. I was called the "Sign of Peace boy." But that's a story for a different post.
Anyway, she told me that she prayed for me, and that God a special plan for me.
Now, I know that God has a special plan for everybody, no matter who they are, what creed, etc. You've just gotta accept that and tell him you're ready. But it was something that I'd kinda forgotten. He does have a plan for everybody, I know that, but I discounted the fact that he has a plan specifically for me. Me with my skill set, with my strengths and my weaknesses. A role only I can fill. That's true for everyone, but still. That's really cool. It shows that despite how my last attempt at making a change in someone failed horribly (through no fault of my own or that person's own, but still), there's something that I can succeed at that God means me to do. And that means alot to me. I have a purpose.
Me and all of my mule-like stubbornness.
Anyway, I meant to get to bed half and hour ago. I should be sleeping right now. I got about six-and-a-half hours of sleep last night.
Goodnight all.
T-WAC
Anyway, I've been up way too late, and I should definitely go to bed.
1:00 AM bedtime and 10:00 AM mornings are not particularly healthy, especially not for a college student who needs to get accustomed to waking up at 6:00 AM for, oh, I don't know, next week. Summer Calculus. Fun. I have to sit through a three hour math class, three days a week. I can barely tolerate an hour-long math class. At the end, I'm ready to kill something. And what's worse, this is a five week course. Smushing all the calc crud into a third of the time it normally takes for a semester. Yeah. Crazy.
With some hard work, though, I should be able to make it through. It's gonna be hard, but I'll do it. And by make it through, I mean pull off an A. Yeah. Gotta love perfectionism.
Well, I managed to pull off A's this semester, despite all of the crap I was going through. It was hard, but I managed it. And hey, if I can make it through this and remain strong, I can make it anywhere.
God's done alot for me. More than I give Him credit for, I think. When it all comes down to it, He's the only reason I'm sane right now. He's the only reason I'm recovering.
Speaking of such things....
A few days ago, after church, an older woman walked up to me. She's known me since I moved here back when I was four. I was called the "Sign of Peace boy." But that's a story for a different post.
Anyway, she told me that she prayed for me, and that God a special plan for me.
Now, I know that God has a special plan for everybody, no matter who they are, what creed, etc. You've just gotta accept that and tell him you're ready. But it was something that I'd kinda forgotten. He does have a plan for everybody, I know that, but I discounted the fact that he has a plan specifically for me. Me with my skill set, with my strengths and my weaknesses. A role only I can fill. That's true for everyone, but still. That's really cool. It shows that despite how my last attempt at making a change in someone failed horribly (through no fault of my own or that person's own, but still), there's something that I can succeed at that God means me to do. And that means alot to me. I have a purpose.
Me and all of my mule-like stubbornness.
Anyway, I meant to get to bed half and hour ago. I should be sleeping right now. I got about six-and-a-half hours of sleep last night.
Goodnight all.
T-WAC
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