#415- College Degree

     Without a doubt, this blog, and the strange experiences it documents, are my way of making up for my false-start into adulthood. When I wrote my first entry I was a nineteen year old college dropout, a dishwasher working every other weekend, and a mostly nocturnal hermit that would only leave his room for some sort of microwavable entree. The last nine years have been spent with the hope of making up for wasted time, lessons and experiences. This past week, I made some real progress towards that goal. I got my first degree.

     My first stint at college lasted such a short time, it left me rather traumatized about the whole thing. If someone told me to give something a college try I'd be like "So you want me to show up for like a week, fall asleep a couple times, and rack up thousands of dollars in debt? Cool." Needless to say, I didn't have much school spirit, so the thought of going back was out of the question for years. Fortunately, slowly but surely, I began to convince myself to give it another try... a real college try. So I enrolled at the community college down the road and began taking whatever classes would fit with my work schedule.
     Cue the montage! There were the late nights spent attempting to absorb entire study guides before a big exam, times I got the cold sweats before checking a grade, times where I would have rather eaten dirt than gone to class. But there were also really interesting classes and teachers that surprised me with their humor and passion when discussing their subject. It wasn't always easy to juggle school and work, but it all worked out. One of the highlights was finding out that I had made the Dean's List while taking five classes and working which only served to boost my academic momentum. It was all pretty great, except for that last math class, that class can suck a fart.

     So now I have a degree, and I'm currently working on my next one. I know that it's just a piece of paper, but I hope it's also a reminder. One to let me know that its never too late for me to finish what I started.

#414- Rubik's Cube

    Solving a Rubik's cube has been synonymous with intelligence within pop culture for decades. Will Smith's character in The Pursuit of Happiness impresses the head honcho of the firm by completing the puzzle in a taxi, and Sean William Scott's character in Dude, Where's My Car? activates the "continuum transfunctioner" which is a very mysterious and powerful device and it's mystery is exceeded only by it's power. Anyways, Hollywood and people in general, seem to hold those who can solve it on a pedestal. And if there's anyone who wants the glory and social affirmation that comes with solving the cube, it's this guy!

First solve!

     In my pursuit to conquer the cube, I found that there a huge subculture of "cubers" out there. Some like to spend their time speed-cubing while other's enjoy challenging themselves with more advanced puzzles (not your standard 3x3x3, more like a 17x17x17 puzzle). There are entire channels dedicated to these sort of puzzles in all their mind bending forms, complete with surprisingly vibrant communities of subscribers and commenters. I even watched a documentary on the cubing world that can be seen for free here.
     Obviously I don't have the skills nor the attention span to really dive into this sort of life, but I figured that dipping my toes in would suffice. Armed with YouTube tutorials and some very beginner algorithms, I spent the past four days slowly chipping away at the process. My goal was to posses the bare minimum skills to solve a cube in any state without looking up any of the algorithms. It didn't matter how long it took for me to solve it, as long as I could do it on my own.
     Honestly, I'm a little disappointed. Sure I was able to solve the cube eventually. But that only dispelled my personal belief that only super-genius' could conquer it. The algorithms are not nearly as hard to memorize as I thought, and as long as you like procrastinating on your summer classes, this is the perfect pursuit for anyone with too much time on their hands!

#413 Surfing

     Stef and I are currently a week into a ten day vacation in beautiful Sayulita, Mexico. The food is unbelievable, the weather is gorgeous, and the tequila flows freely, which all makes for a much needed brake from the school, work, and wisdom teeth that preoccupied most of my time recently. Sayulita is a beach bungalow known for it's waves and I had my heart set on trying it months ago.

Not a farmer's tan, it's a white "rash-guard"

      I did attempt to stand on a surfboard once about six years ago in Oceanside, California, but wouldn't go so far as to say I got anywhere near surfing. I demonstrated my dog paddle, got swallowed whole by a single wave, and spent the rest of the afternoon nursing my chest that had gotten torn up by the sand on the surfboard.

     Today, I didn't want my efforts to be wasted away in vain. We got a hook-up from our friend Chris (a.k.a. Jessica) and her husband Rob who live here for some surf lessons from Rob's nephew (who is also named Rob). I scurried into my rash guard and tried my absolute best to pay attention to everything Rob was saying to me while we were still on the beach. I have this tendency to zone out at the exact moment when someone is giving me actual useful information. A lot like how I indulged in daydreaming for the entirety of the safety protocol spiel when I went indoor-skydiving and proceeded to flail around the turbine for my turn. I did not want surfing to end up like that.

     After trying to absorb everything Rob said to me, it was time to hit the waves, and to my surprise, I was holding my own out there! In fact, the first wave I tried I ended up riding back to the shore. Granted, the waves were lil babies, and Rob did give me a much needed push. But as I got the hang of it, we wondered out further and Rob pointed me to some bigger breaks. After a few awkward attempts I was catching my own waves and having an absolute ball.

     Update- I wandered back down to the beach today to see if my luck would hold up for one more session on the waves. If it weren't for the tequila breakfast, I would've been discouraged by giant waves pounding the shoreline as I arrived without Rob the instructor. I wish I had photos of todays waves, they were so massive that I couldn't even paddle out past them, I kept getting swallowed up whole by the ocean and spat out like a piece of stale chewing gum. The first ten tries were laughable. Not only could I not stand up on the board, but I couldn't even begin the process of standing up. It was like as soon as a massive wave would come by I would forget everything that I had learned the day before and swallow several gulps of ocean water instead.
     But, I did not go home defeated. I paid for an hour rental and goddamnit was I gonna get my money's worth. So I swallowed my embarrassment (along with some more saltwater) and tried again...and again...and agin. In my hour long stint in the water, I was able to ride four of them. I was visibly pumped after each victorious attempt, and it has so far been my highlight of the entire trip. I successfully surfed some real waves (not like the baby one in the photo above) by myself!

Siesta on la playa

#412 Wisdom Teeth

Before-
     Over the past two years I've neglected the cyclical toothaches and words of warning from the dentist. Sort of like how George Costanza had convinced himself that refusing to see the doctor was synonymous with avoiding getting sick, I've done the same with my teeth. Even this past November, when I was hit with a brutal infection on the right side of my jaw (which is apparently pretty common with neglected wisdom teeth), I chose to eat a square meal of ibuprofen instead of seeking actual medical help.

High spirits

     But I can't avoid this forever. The orthodontist made sure to drive that point home during my consultation with him. He put on a disposable glove, stuck a finger in my still talking mouth, and felt around for a suspiciously short time before listing off all the terrible things that would surely happen if I didn't get all four teeth removed as soon as possible. Nerve damage, loss of other teeth, social ostracization. Pretty grim stuff.

I don't remember taking this

     So it's the morning of my procedure and I'd would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I hate these sort of things, especially the part of going under. That's probably the most jarring aspect. I haven't been able to eat or drink since last night. It doesn't help that I tend to overthink pretty much everything, and my imagination (like everyone else's) doesn't do any favors for my anxiety. So wish me luck I guess.

After-
     It's about eleven hours later and I made it through the procedure more or less. A part of me thinks that some of my mental bandwidth will be forever lost in the gaseous ether they pumped me full to know me out. After watching my drooling myself on video, I can certainly see why they require a designated driver for all surgeries. It wasn't fun, but it also wasn't the "big deal" my imagination had cooked it up to be either. I spent much of the afternoon spilling soup on my chin, sort of sleeping, and remembering faint whiffs of stupid things I had said while coming out of the procedure. Instead of me trying to write about an experience I was only present for in the most generous of terms, I'll just leave this video of the aftermath here for you to laugh at.

#411- Anxiety

     You may have noticed a change in my regular posting schedule. Instead of posting sporadically every three months or so, I've slipped a bit and am now aiming towards the whatever, I'll get there if I get there sort of pace. Some recent life developments are to blame (or credit, depending on how much you like these sort of rants). The first of which are all of the brown moving boxes that have taken over the living room of my apartment in preparation for a move. The second is the spring semester of school I started. They're both exciting in their own way if you squint hard enough, but both will be major sources of boredom or backaches too.

     Anyways, the reason I'm making an appearance at all is to talk about a newfound obsession in my life. See recently, it's come to my attention that I am an anxious person. This news may feel underwhelming to someone with the benefit of not being me, but let me tell you, this discovery has kind of shaken me up.
     News of my anxiety came as such a shock to me because had always thought of myself as an adventurous guy. Hell, I'm the guy who started this very blog to document the adventures I was having. Even after my attempts to stroke my own ego, I began to feel the rumblings of something very unsettling.
     The first year of noticalbe anxiety was a lot like a connect-the-dots picture. Anxious episodes were like dots scattered throughout my weeks and months, often small and seemingly insignificant. Sometimes I would feel cloudy, other times I would be preoccupied with an ineffably sour feeling. But most often it would simply be too difficult to muster up the motivation to get up and do something. It was only once I took a step back that I could see how the dots connected to form a web of anxiety closing in on me.
     Things got really bad at one point in time. I felt trapped in the most peculiar situations. I would lose actual sleep dreading the thought of having to drive a car, or go shopping, or even ride in an elevator. I found myself crumbling under the anxiety at times too. I rerouted my commute to avoid even sparse traffic, I would forgo groceries in order to avoid sweaty hands, and I'd spend my weekends laying around watching TV so I wouldn't have to leave my apartment. Aside from work and the occasional skate session, I felt housebound.
     I assume if you know me, even a little bit, then you wouldn't peg me as an anxious person. Even while I was busy rerouting commutes, I was convincing myself that I was the same adventurous guy as before. In fact, I hear that most anxious people go virtually unnoticed.
     In the past three years or so that anxiety has noticably affected my life, I've made some progress that I'm proud of. Here are three things that I think are worth a quick shoutout if you're feeling anxious:

1) Meditation and Mindfulness-
Meditation has been a staple of my day for over two years now. It's helped me accept and even appreciate some less flattering aspects of myself. Most importantly, I think meditating has helped me reestablish my relationship with anxiety. Anxious thoughts are still present, but I don't always respond like I once did. But sometimes I still do, old habits die hard.

2) Journaling-
Frustrated? Write about it.
Happy? Write about it.
Whatever you're feeling, write about it. A journal is a nice reminder that what you're going through will not last forever. Good or bad, it will pass.

3) Some really good books-
I've become infatuated with the subject of positive psychology and mindfulness. Here's some ones I've enjoyed:

Dare Barry by Mcdonagh

Waking Up by Sam Harris

Advice Not Given by Mark Epstein

The Headspace Guide to Meditation by Andy Puddicombe

The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg

Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert

When by Daniel H. Pink (great for habit formation)

10% Happier and Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics (by Dan Harris and Jeff Warren)

The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hanh

I don't know if anything you read here will be of any value to you. I figure that it can hurt. We spend so much time pretending to be perfect versions of ourselves that our actual selfs may feel neglected. My hope is that I can make an effort to be more of myself and not just the parts I'm proud of.