>> Friday, March 28, 2008


Ah, how life throws you twists and turns. Sometimes there just don't seem to be words to accurately describe how one feels. Even if there were, it is such a mishmash of emotions that it wouldn't make any sense to anyone but the person experiencing it. It's just...AAAAHH! If only I could convey emotion easily through pen and paper...err, digital ink. It's like experiencing angst, depression, rejection, confusion, fear, and determination all at once. You have finally realized one part of why life is horrible, but you don't really know what to do to break out of it. You seek answers, and all you get is more confusion. If you could only get a little inkling of where to begin, you could break out. You could figure out where you were supposed to be, what you were supposed to be doing, and how to really enjoy things if you you could but grasp the beginning point.

Oh, and a pic. Just for you, Sylvia ;)

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One step closer

>> Tuesday, March 25, 2008

I have a confession. I have a dream car. It's such a beautiful thing. It's not some sports car, or exotic beauty. Matter of fact, I could sell my car and buy one right now if I wanted. If I did that though, I would be sacrificing my masculinity, without having a shred of dignity remaining.














Yeah, it's that bad boy right there. Go ahead, start laughing. No really, it's ok. Everybody else laughs when I tell them. It's just so, mmmm, tasty! Now, it's not like I'd buy just any New Beetle and call it good. No, to try to justify the purchase it would have to have certain specs. First, it would need to be a certain color. Silver would be the first choice. Ok, silver would be the only choice. And it would be turbo. With leather, heated seats and a sunroof. Oh yeah, that would be nice. Naturally, I would need a set of tires for the winter.

If you have never sat in one of these, oh, you are in for a treat. They look so small, but once you sit down in them you realize how roomy they are. It's amazing! When I actually got to sit in one, it was late in the day, so I wasn't able to take the time to drive one.

I think my love for the New Beetle started with the Nintendo 64. There was a racing game that came out called Beetle Adventure Racing. I bought the game because I liked the design for the New Beetle, not because I expected it to be a quality title. It was basically an advertisement for the car, of course. What I didn't expect was that it turned out to be a pretty sweet little ditty of a racer. Since then, I have wanted to own the vehicle. The only way I could buy the car and not be laughed at constantly is by waiting until I am married and buy it "for my wife". So I guess I'll have to wait until then so I can shamefully hide my passion behind that excuse.

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A little treat for ya

>> Friday, March 21, 2008

In between legitimate posts, I'll throw this in. I was cleaning up a couple (that's right, more than one) flash drives, and I found this paper I had written my first year in college. You can almost feel your hair getting blown around while reading it!

Running was part of my life. I had begun as a young 12 year-old at my middle school, slowly improving and progressing, with the occasional stand-still as injuries were acquired. I loved it. I loved the feeling of nausea after a good, hard workout. It felt even better after your body took the liberty of relieving your stomach of its contents because of that workout. All of that training seemed to culminate on the day I had my final race of my high school career.

It was a wonderfully warm day. I sat in the center of the track, stretching, just moments before the final call for the one mile race. I had run the race numerous times before, and normally would not be nervous, but this time was different. It was Districts, marking the first time I would be there to run, and not simply to keep time and cheer my teammates on. My mind was excited and prepared for the race. My stomach had different ideas. It seemed as if at every moment, it wanted to go in the opposite direction of the rest of my body. “Last call, Men’s 1600 Meter race.” My stomach tried running again.

I nodded to my friend, Kent, whom I would be racing against. We trotted over the lush grass, and walked on to the track. The aroma of splintered rubber tires rose to our noses, and we soaked it in. It excited us, helped prepare us for the forthcoming adventure. I looked around at the other runners. Some were doing free squats; others were on their tip-toes, as if they were straining to see over a crowd.

The crowd was giving support with their voices. Over them, I heard the bear-like growl of my coach, Bob Neal, yelling for me: “C’mon Steve Jenkins! Use those calves of a Goddess!” I smirked once more at the defining expression of my coach. Many others were yelling, friends and family alike, all trying to lend their strength to us through their voices. We drifted toward the waterfall start as the yelling continued. “Runners take their marks!” We settled in closely, that runner’s crowd of twenty. “Get set,” crowed the starter. Muscles tensed, arms drew back. “Go!”

We burst forth as if a pack of wolves closing in on their prey. Kent and I were at the front of the pack, quickly establishing our school, Hillcrest, as the Alpha Male. Close on our tails, craving that leadership, were two runners, one from Skyline and the other from Rigby. I was not about to lose leadership, and as we rounded 200 meters, my brother ran along the side of the track and encouraged me to maintain the Alpha position. 275 meters; the crowds grew louder as we neared completion of the initial lap of four. Again, Bob Neal barreled out, “Let’s go Steve Jenkins! C’mon Kent Shirley!” also encouraging us to stay in front.

One lap down, three to go. The group was thinning noticeably now. By the time the second lap was finished, there were gaps between runners, as if nature was taking its course and thinning the weak from the strong. My pack had been reduced to four: Me, the Alpha male, and three others, struggling to dethrone me. “No way” I thought. This was my time to shine, and I was not about to let some lesser animal usurp my power in front of everybody. 1125…1150 meters down, and the cheers continue. Nearing the final lap, the crowd began to get hysterical as they tried to force their energy upon us.

I cross the 1200 meter marker with Skyline close on my tail. Kent trailed by a small margin, still eager for leadership. The bell sounded, signaling the final lap. Only 400 meters left until my superiority was final. “I can’t let the others pass me, I must stay strong.” It was a line repeated in my mind over and over. 220 meters comes and goes, and my brother runs along once more. “Keep going!” he cheered. “It’s time to kick it in.” “But I’m really tired,” my mind came. I had slipped. With that small slip, my mind began falling ever so slowly, and my body responded by slowing down.

Skyline and Kent caught up, and took the outside lane to begin passing. “NO!” my mind screamed. At that moment, it all made sense. I needed that constant pressure to perform at my peak. That was what I had been missing throughout the years; someone to truly compete against. I had been stuck somewhere in the middle where I had stopped caring, and did not try. Now that I was in the front, that all changed, though. My mind immediately recovered from the slip and refocused. 125 meters left, and I gave it my all. The finish line neared, and quickly passed. I had defeated Skyline by over one second, showing that I had not given up. I walked off the track that day truly knowing what I needed to succeed.

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The overly complex title for the reason

>> Tuesday, March 18, 2008

So why am I writing this blog? A few people might find it terribly odd that I have chosen a written medium for sharing my feelings, considering my history of making known my absolute hatred for writing papers for school projects and things. The real truth is, though, that I enjoy writing. It is a medium where I am able to sufficiently express my feelings. I feel that I am a good orator, but it seems that I frequently am unable to find the correct word to convey how I feel in a timely manner, which means I am there with my mouth open, pausing at awkward times when the right word comes. When I write, even if the right word doesn't come immediately, I have time to think of it without giving pause to the train of thought for the person I am communicating with.

Also, I plan on starting a podcast with a friend soon, and plan on maintaining a blog for that podcast containing commentary or other info we wanted in the podcast, but weren't able to fit in. I figured I also should start to learn more about some of the latest tech trends that are going on. I also hope to change my major to Communication soon. The current plan is to work for a company such as CNet, where I would be able to test and review new tech items that come out. Whether that pans out or not will be an interesting process. Regardless, if I do go in that direction, I will need more practice and expertise at writing, so when the time comes to act all professional and have something of a portfolio showcasing my talents, I at least won't be out of practice on writing. Plus, I like to use big words. It makes me feel smart.

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The overly complex process of developing a title

You'd think that making a blog would be a simple process, setting it to look like you want, add a couple pictures, and viola! Unfortunately for me, I tend to over-complicate things. I was going to set this blog up a day ago, but was utterly stumped at what I was to name this. Did I want something witty, a funny name, or something serious. What would be best, and what would portray what I wanted in this blog? Well, nearly 24 hours after the process began, I have finally decided. It seems fitting that the title contain a word that many do not know, because it seems that when I speak to people, that happens often. I decided on that title to always remind me that this blog doesn't have to be perfect. In fact, I intend for it to be not that way at all. Also, this blog may contain things I don't normally talk about to people. My fears, worries, and, well, imperfections may come up on a frequent basis. Not to mention this is really the first time I have blogged at all, so I very well may be horrible at it. Let us begin...

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