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| http://www.thoughts.com/if/blog
Time wounds all heels?
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| My parents pooled College Graduation and Birthday (June 18) gifts into one mighty present: a Dell XPS 630. Tech specs are below (they are pretty much just double the top-of-the-line MacBook Pro), but my question to you is What should I name my new PC?
Frankly, I've used "Xerxes" too many times. My vehicle, a 2003 Chevrolet Malibu with less than 32.5k miles, is endearingly called "POC" (it drives a bit shakily - but I do deeply appreciate it on its own merits, not just because Grandma and Grandpa Lindsey gave it to me free and continually pay insurance).
Tech specs of It-That-MUST-Be-Named:
Processor: XPS 630,
Intel Core2 processorE8400 (3.0 GHz,1333FSB) w/Dual Core Technology and 6MB
cache
Case: Red Bezel Chassis
Memory: 4GB DDR2 SDRAM at 800MHz
Video Card: 512MB NVIDIA GeForce 8800 GT
Hard Drive: 500GB NCQ SATA (7200 RPM) w/ 16MB
DataBurst Cache
Disc Drive: 16X DVD+R/RW
Operating System: Microsoft Windows XP Pro
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| If it isn't clear, Lauren and I are still good friends who call each other frequently. She is in no way someone who has harmed me; we just didn't think a life together would make each other happy. Sorry if I made anyone think negatively of her. | | |
| I am working. I am a manual laborer at a factory. Rising at 5:30 so I am coherent at 7 for manual labor is difficult. Money, though.
I am single. As of three days ago, I called Lauren and ended our romantic relationship; our lives are headed in different directions, and our philosophies are simply too different for a committed relationship to last unless we're both willing to work at it. The general consensus is that we are not so willing. Her career will always come first, and I need to be more important; to me, life is what you do around work, not work itself. However, I would not dismiss the time we spent together; I grew as a person and am further along the path of discovering what I want from life and a mate. In addition, being a bachelor is good for paying off student loans.
I had the unsightly and potentially, in the distant future, dangerous mole removed from my left arm today. It went smoothly and easily. It's still numb, apparently, because the stitches don't hurt or itch.
I really wish there were more of my friends around here. When I'm tired like this, I oddly miss multi-player strategy games more than anything. Weird.
I enjoy spending so much time with my family. I like Alyssa, too, but I'm very glad that she isn't living here. She's going through that "entirely concerned about herself and no on else" stage of life, and it's difficult to get up for work when she's making noise in her room until midnight or later.
If anyone sees the board game "Betrayal at House on the Hill" for a relatively cheap price, send it to me. I'll give you $50.
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| I am a man better versed in the accomplishments of General Macbeth than General MacArthur, more familiar with Dwight Schrute than Dwight D. Eisenhower. Yet, as this time of year provides me with another day of freedom, I think it best to spend a few minutes turning my attention to the sacrifices of those who have gone before.
I still clearly hear my Western Civilizations professor back in college, Dr. Glenn Spann, explaining to us how Leonidus of Sparta saved all western culture (I think it ended with something along the lines of, "But, he's in hell right now," though my paraphrase is itself taken wildly out-of-context), and my mind turns to the question of legacy. Without delving into the ontological ramifications of whether or not the dead can be harmed by earthly actions, I know many people who emphasize the importance of leaving a legacy; I think it was even a theme for our chapels one semester. God set down writings through the early church that guide us today. Men of valor took up lance and shield, charging into the fray to defend their feudal lords in England past. Where will my place be?
An acquaintance of mine, Brady Feltz, who went through the ROTC program and is now training in seminaryu to be an army chaplain, came within earshot of me two or three Memorial Days ago, saying, "You know, not even one person thanked me." As a taxpayer who recognized that Brady had seen only training and never duty, i shot back, "If it makes you feel better, you still haven't thanked me for paying for your meals, outfit [meaning uniform], or college education."
My beloved, Lauren Claus, cares nothing for legacy, places absolutely no value on the past (an scoffs at those who do), and ruins a great deal of excellent movies by commenting things like, "Honor? Men are so stupid."
Real life is scary; I'm taking a job so at odds with my personality that it isn't funny. It's getting easier to imagine being forced to live on Campbell's and crackers, especially with Lauren's hyper-expensive plans for housing ("in New York City, soon after December"). But it could be a lot scarier. I am thankful for those who have made my life safe and convenient.
Were any of those paragraphs linked? Mneh. Transitions are overrated. It's late. I have to be up for factory work in 26 hours. I'm going to bed.
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