<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308</id><updated>2011-07-28T11:03:57.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>La Buena Vida de Ese Gringo Loco</title><subtitle type='html'>O Lord, open my lips, that my mouth shall declare your praise (Psalm 51:15)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-7533248724094075432</id><published>2011-05-23T14:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T15:57:14.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Greensboro Police Dept.</title><content type='html'>A lot of you have been asking what happened to me last night to spark some of the things I've been posting on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;Last night, i met a friend at Kickback Jack's on Battleground Ave, here in Greensboro so we could hang out and watch the Chicago Bulls playoff game.&lt;br /&gt;Not wanting to spend too much money on bar food, i rolled through the Taco Bell drive-thru on the way and sat in my truck at Kickback Jack's and ate my food while jammin out to some Kid Cudi.&lt;br /&gt;As I finished my meal, a GPD squad car drove past me, stopped, threw it in reverse, and the officer exited the vehicle and approached me.&lt;br /&gt;She asked what i was doing just sitting in my truck, and i told her the truth- that i was eating my food, about to head inside and watch the game.&lt;br /&gt;"OK, well we're just making sure you're not waiting for people to leave their cars unattended so you can break into them", she responded.  Baffled that she would even think that, i told her, "no" and reiterated what i was truthfully doing.&lt;br /&gt;The officer said that was alright and went about her way.  &lt;br /&gt;a few moments later, another squad car rolled up, stopped right in front of me, and this officer asked me what i was doing there.  I told her the exact same thing i told the first one, that i was just trying to eat my food so I could go inside and watch this basketball game with my friend.&lt;br /&gt;This officer replied with, "OK, the reason we're asking you is because we smell weed in the air."&lt;br /&gt;I almost laughed at the absurdity of the statement, as the only thing they should have smelled near my truck was cheap tacos and hot sauce.&lt;br /&gt;She asked me to exit my vehicle so she could pat me down and make sure i wasn't holding.&lt;br /&gt;I complied, as i was not in possession of, nor doing anything i shouldn't be.&lt;br /&gt;dissatisfied with the pat-down, she asked to search my vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;growing increasingly irritated by how ridiculous this whole circus show was becoming, I almost didn't notice all the other squad cars pulling up (i counted nine cops in total, not including the ones that rolled through and kept going. nine cops for some kid eating taco bell in his car.)&lt;br /&gt;I agreed to the search because i knew there was nothing illegal inside and if I'd said, "no" they would have had probable cause, called in a warrant, and been searching my car fifteen minutes later anyways, only this time annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;they started searching my car and found a box of spray-paint caps and some markers which i use for my legal art work, but they thought it looked sketchy.&lt;br /&gt;they then found one of my business cards for my company, containing my signature which they perceived as a "graffiti-style signature" and one of my Squatch t-shirts, which they once again thought was used for illegal street art.  &lt;br /&gt;they took pictures of my business card and ran the names "Juan Pablo" and "Squatch" through the Vandal Squad database as tho those are the names of graff writers here in Greensboro.&lt;br /&gt;They're not.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that stupid to slap my government name on the same card with my tag.&lt;br /&gt;Honestly.&lt;br /&gt;So GPD's Vandal Squad now foolishly has two names in their database which have absolutely nothing to do with illegal art.&lt;br /&gt;they tore my truck apart, wasted an hour my my time, and the nine cops that were collectively harassing me, and got nothing out of it.&lt;br /&gt;know why?&lt;br /&gt;BECAUSE I WASN'T DOING ANYTHING WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;So while they're spending all this time hassling me for eating Taco Bell, there were real criminals out there raping and murdering people and getting away with it, because they wasted a considerable chunk of their downtown Police Force on some kid eating in his truck.&lt;br /&gt;I've personally never had a positive experience with a Law Enforcement Authority.&lt;br /&gt;Growing up in my neighborhood, i saw countless neighbors drunkenly beat their wives and GPD did nothing about it.&lt;br /&gt;I grew up across the street from the D.H. Griffin Junkyard and it was a regular occurrence for there to be an explosion in the junkyard that shook the walls of my house.  GD would roll through and leave 30 minutes later without any charges pressed.&lt;br /&gt;I had a girlfriend who was sent back into a physically abusive situation with her family because GPD decided she had to stay with her family.&lt;br /&gt;These are the people hired and payed by OUR taxes to "serve and protect" us and they're doing nothing for us.&lt;br /&gt;As long as Old Man Griffin (D.H. Griffin Wrecking Co.) and other such kingpins keep GPD's pockets fat, they're fully complacent watching the people in our community suffer.&lt;br /&gt;WE need change in our Police force.&lt;br /&gt;We need change in the way that our city is run.&lt;br /&gt;But first we need enough people to be as outraged as I am by events such as the ones I've described here and even worse events.&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to make sure I was doing my part in making my fellow civilians aware of these problems that we are faced with every single day.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all decide to do the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-7533248724094075432?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/7533248724094075432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2011/05/greensboro-police-dept.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7533248724094075432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7533248724094075432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2011/05/greensboro-police-dept.html' title='Greensboro Police Dept.'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-5190800532554242525</id><published>2010-01-02T13:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T13:36:12.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So This is the New Year....</title><content type='html'>Holy crap.&lt;div&gt;2,009 is actually over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A year ago everything was completely different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This has seriously been the craziest year of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both parents lost their jobs, I got denied from every school I applied to, my family relationships and my friendships were put under strains they've never seen before.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I graduated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I turned 18.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like I finally decided what i want to do with my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think you could say I stuck with last year's resolution- to be real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was more honest with people and didn't let them walk all over me as I've had a tendency to do my whole life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I think I over-looked the most important relationship in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one between God and myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once again, I'm not really huge into the whole "New Years resolution" thing, but I suppose if I had to pick one for this year, it'd be to focus more on drawing closer to my Father.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not that once this year is over, I'll just be like, "Well, now that that's out of the way." and just move on or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's definitely something that should be an every year sort of thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'm definitely gonna try and get tight with God and make sure He's a part of every aspect of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright, well i guess it's time to get this new year started.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully it'll teach me as much as the last one did...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-5190800532554242525?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/5190800532554242525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-this-is-new-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/5190800532554242525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/5190800532554242525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-this-is-new-year.html' title='So This is the New Year....'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-4818307803260055890</id><published>2009-11-29T22:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T22:56:19.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif, helvetica; font-size: 12px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;sooo i dunno if y'all are christians or not, chances are not all of you are&lt;br /&gt;but i almost lost a true friend this week.&lt;br /&gt;a brother&lt;br /&gt;but God obviously wanted to keep him here.&lt;br /&gt;and i can't stop praising Him for it.&lt;br /&gt;whether you believe in the promise of Christ or not, go right now-&lt;br /&gt;stop whatever it is you are doing.&lt;br /&gt;facebook can wait thirty seconds.&lt;br /&gt;go to the next room, call up an old friend, do whatever.&lt;br /&gt;just tell someone you love them&lt;br /&gt;maybe somebody you might've had beef with recently&lt;br /&gt;maybe somebody you've lost touch with.&lt;br /&gt;maybe somebody that really needs it.&lt;br /&gt;Lord knows my boy needed it.&lt;br /&gt;just tell them how much they mean to you.&lt;br /&gt;and mean it.&lt;br /&gt;bc you don't know if you'll ever see them again.&lt;br /&gt;i can't imagine what it'd be like spending the rest of my time here on earth if my brother didn't know how much he's meant to me&lt;br /&gt;but imma make sure he and everyone else in my life knows how much they mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;life is short&lt;br /&gt;life is precious&lt;br /&gt;don't waste it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif, helvetica; font-size: 12px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;                God is love,&lt;br /&gt;                     ~JP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-4818307803260055890?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/4818307803260055890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/11/life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/4818307803260055890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/4818307803260055890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/11/life.html' title='life'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-1291112600464670821</id><published>2009-09-11T03:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T03:23:49.747-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Mom? I kinda got hit by a car the other day...</title><content type='html'>I figured it's been a while since I had a post that's purely for amusement.  My first assignment in my Expository Writing class at Good Times Community College was to write about an anecdote.  Anything interesting, funny, or peculiar that has happened to us.  Having difficulty thinking of anything about me that encompasses any of those three adjectives, I turned to the guidance of Jenna Caroline Neely and she reminded me of this funny little story that happened just a few weeks ago.  I suppose it covers all the bases of the assignment.  Anyways, here ya go, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up that morning, ate my usual breakfast of three or four bowls of Apple Jacks, and stood out on the front porch, enjoying a cup of strong coffee, and watching the sunrise. Noticing that it was an exceptionally nice day, and that I had no plans until work at five that evening, I decided to go for a bike ride- something I love to do, but hadn’t had time to do in a while.&lt;br /&gt;So I hopped on my bike, and started heading on down Hilltop Road. Everything was going great- I hadn’t had any huge tractor trailers whizz by be, almost knock me off my bike, hadn’t gotten unbearably tired, and there still wasn’t a cloud in sight. That is, until I got to Guilford College Road. I got my green light and began to pass through the intersection, but there was a huge white construction van in the middle lane, blocking my view of the far right lane and, subsequently, rendering me invisible to anyone in that lane. A car came blazing through the intersection at full speed, ran the red light and then saw me. I squeezed my brake levers as hard as I could, but wasn’t quite able to stop in time and my front tire was hit by the car. I went down, screamed some unintentional obscenities, and moved my bike over to the side of the road so that it wouldn’t get run over and further damaged. I hobbled on over to where the guy had pulled over, just on the other side of the intersection and made sure that his car wasn’t damaged by the accident. He apologized about a million times, made sure I wasn’t injured, apologized some more, and we went our separate ways. I figured there wasn’t any need to call the police, since no serious injuries or property damage had been done, so I fixed my twisted handlebars and continued my ride.&lt;br /&gt;I got about twenty feet down the road when I realized I should probably call someone and tell them I got hit by a car, so I tried to call my dear friend Eric Robert Finch, but he was driving, so his dad picked up. I was already confused by Finch sounding a lot more like his dad than usual, so it was a complete shock when the guy in the white construction van pulled up next to me, got out, and started screaming at me. He said I’d let the other guy off the hook, and I was letting him get away by not calling the police. Not knowing what to do, I hung up on Papa Finch, and tried to calm this man down and assure him that I was alright, as was my bicycle and the other man’s car. Dissatisfied, he shook his head, got back in his car, and drove off.&lt;br /&gt;I’m not sure if this story has any sort of moral, purpose, or underlying meaning other than the fact that my life is ridiculous and not one thing about this story is surprising that it happened to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-1291112600464670821?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/1291112600464670821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/09/hey-mom-i-kinda-got-hit-by-car-other.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/1291112600464670821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/1291112600464670821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/09/hey-mom-i-kinda-got-hit-by-car-other.html' title='Hey Mom? I kinda got hit by a car the other day...'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-6091554937128991513</id><published>2009-08-08T03:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T04:03:29.147-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Amen</title><content type='html'>So it's been an insanely long time since my last post.&lt;br /&gt;Obviously a butt-ton of stuff has happened since then, but most of you probably already know the basics of it.&lt;br /&gt;One not-so-obvious thing that's been going on recently is yet another struggle I've been having, that God and God alone is pulling me out of.&lt;br /&gt;That is, believe it or not, racism and chauvinism.&lt;br /&gt;The belief that one's race or gender is superior to all others.&lt;br /&gt;The belief that one holds in which they are superior to all, by inherently being of a particular ethnicity or sex.&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I dropped off with my blog, I've been feeling ridiculously bitter about so many dumb petty things.&lt;br /&gt;My dad lost his job back in February, I got denied acceptance to both ASU and UNCG, my family life wasn't necessarily at an all-time high, and a slew of other insignificant inconveniences that God intended to be speed bumps, but I turned into road blocks.&lt;br /&gt;any who, all these dumb things really kinda pissed me off.&lt;br /&gt;Night and day, I was filled with an indescribable bitterness and hate that I hadn't felt in a very very long time.&lt;br /&gt;This manifested itself quite clearly in my attitude towards simple everyday things and most definitely in the way I treated and spoke to other people, especially women and those of different ethnic backgrounds than my own.&lt;br /&gt;Things that would ordinarily annoy or tick me off no matter who was at fault would annoy or tick me off ten times more if they were by the cause of a woman or someone of another race.&lt;br /&gt;I heard myself say and think things that I never had any idea resided in my heart and on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Things I never hope to hear again and that I hope no one ever has to endure.&lt;br /&gt;I used names and words that were one hundred percent intended to hurt people, just to make up for that fact that I had been hurt.&lt;br /&gt;But I think what bothers me the most about all this is the fact that for a long time, I felt absolutely no remorse for intentionally hurting people with the gift of language and diction that God has so graciously blessed me with.&lt;br /&gt;That is, until project serve.&lt;br /&gt;The whole van ride up to Allentown, God kept placing it on my heart that the things I was saying and thinking were wrong and awful and hurtful to His beautiful children.&lt;br /&gt;But I ignored it.&lt;br /&gt;It came up in conversation several times just around camp and our work sites.&lt;br /&gt;But I ignored it.&lt;br /&gt;Pastor Jim even talked about unity in his sermon on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;But I ignored it.&lt;br /&gt;Finally I heard God tell more loudly than I've ever heard in my life that something absolutely positively had to change about my attitude.&lt;br /&gt;So I talked to some very dear friends of mine about it and we prayed about it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm very pleased to say that God is helping me shove this ignorance and hate out of my heart more and more every day.&lt;br /&gt;But that doesn't mean it's all gone.&lt;br /&gt;I understand that I've got plenty of work ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;I understand that it's something that only He can help me with.&lt;br /&gt;Not some self- help book recommended by Oprah or a psychologist or even my dear friends.&lt;br /&gt;Just God.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-6091554937128991513?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/6091554937128991513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/08/amen.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/6091554937128991513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/6091554937128991513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/08/amen.html' title='Amen'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-7174774877624311044</id><published>2009-03-30T19:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T19:37:38.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2nd Semester Senior</title><content type='html'>...Holy crap...&lt;br /&gt;I am a second semester senior.&lt;br /&gt;My senior year is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;My high school career is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;My public schooling as almost over.&lt;br /&gt;Where did the time go?&lt;br /&gt;For so many years I was so excited, so ready to be a senior, to go to college.&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm scared.&lt;br /&gt;ASU mails me my decision letter tomorrow, and I'm absolutely terrified to receive it.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, best case scenario, I got in.&lt;br /&gt;Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to Boone to study Marketing and Spanish, just like I want to.&lt;br /&gt;But in that scenario, I'm leaving so much behind.&lt;br /&gt;A small, but warm house- a home.&lt;br /&gt;Parents that love me more than my tiny little hormone-enraged teenage brain can understand.&lt;br /&gt;A hot meal every night.&lt;br /&gt;Teachers that have literally molded me into who I am.&lt;br /&gt;All the people that have watched turn from an annoying, loud little ankle-biter into the annoying, loud young man that I am today.&lt;br /&gt;Worst case scenario, I didn't get in.&lt;br /&gt;Crap.&lt;br /&gt;I'm staying in Greensboro for at least another few months so I can transfer to app.&lt;br /&gt;I can, at least for a while keep my home, and my hot meals and my loving parents, but all the while experiencing a feeling, however mortal that feeling may be, of being left behind.&lt;br /&gt;feeling like all my peers, my classmates are going somewhere, moving on with their lives...and leaving me in the dust.&lt;br /&gt;I keep having a nightmare of getting my ASU letter, opening it up with a mixed feeling of terror of the unknown, anticipation for the potential, and absolute horror of the worst.&lt;br /&gt;I open up this envelope, and read aloud to all my friends and family members, "Congratulations!  You have been granted acceptance to Appalachian State University!...April fools!"&lt;br /&gt;I know this is entirely illogical, but I can't help believing it.&lt;br /&gt;I dunno, I guess we'll cross all these bridges when we get there, but I can't help but feel uneasy.&lt;br /&gt;This was supposed to be extremely short, contrasting to my other, very lengthy, overly-wordy posts in order to emphasize the gravity of my recent realization...but that didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-7174774877624311044?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/7174774877624311044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/03/2nd-semester-senior.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7174774877624311044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7174774877624311044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/03/2nd-semester-senior.html' title='2nd Semester Senior'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-6513142243531042050</id><published>2009-03-15T09:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T10:07:02.259-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Peter Pan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&amp;amp;ct=tbn&amp;amp;q=http://www.devilgraphics.com/peter-pan/PeterPanLow.JPG&amp;amp;usg=AFQjCNEwwD-zU5bs6TXQqGnYr-HH9y33ZA"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px" alt="" src="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&amp;amp;ct=tbn&amp;amp;q=http://www.devilgraphics.com/peter-pan/PeterPanLow.JPG&amp;amp;usg=AFQjCNEwwD-zU5bs6TXQqGnYr-HH9y33ZA" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So every one's telling us that we're at a crossroads in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;Every thing's changing.&lt;br /&gt;We're starting all new chapters in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;It's exciting, terrifying, confusing and amazing all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know what the heck a crossroads &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt;, but it doesn't sound like something I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;Throughout my childhood, I was so ready to be a grown-up, or at the very least a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;Everything was going to be awesome.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be able to drive, I'd have a smoking hot girlfriend, I'd be college-bound, if not already there, and everything would be easy, just like in my childhood, when my biggest concern and workload entailed finding the sickest hiding place for hide-and-go-seek.&lt;br /&gt;But now that I'm here, it's not nearly so glamorous as it was in my daydreams.&lt;br /&gt;My childhood fantasies never included struggling with drugs, alcohol, lust or my identity in Christ.&lt;br /&gt;In my daydreams, I knew &lt;em&gt;exactly&lt;/em&gt; who I was, and &lt;em&gt;exactly&lt;/em&gt; who I wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;That's not the case, by any stretch of the imagination, now.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to those days.&lt;br /&gt;When my most difficult schoolwork was my times tables.&lt;br /&gt;When I could spend the whole day organizing teams for the baseball battle royale that was supposed to go down at recess.&lt;br /&gt;When the new "Pokemon" movie set to release in a few weeks was the biggest part of my life.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to those days and be like peter pan; just never grow up.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a child forever.&lt;br /&gt;No worries, no responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty obvious that this teenage daydream is entirely illogical, as were my boyhood daydreams.&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how we always seem to want something different from what we've already got.&lt;br /&gt;As children, our number one desire is to be a "big kid" and then once we are a "big kid", we realize it's not all it's cracked up to be, and want our childhood innocence and naivety back.&lt;br /&gt;We're never happy right here, right now.&lt;br /&gt;Always either longing or nostalgic.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day we'll learn to appreciate what God's given us today.&lt;br /&gt;Where He's placed us and who He's made us, right here and right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-6513142243531042050?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/6513142243531042050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/03/peter-pan.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/6513142243531042050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/6513142243531042050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/03/peter-pan.html' title='Peter Pan'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-8409017044503844265</id><published>2009-03-14T08:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T08:41:17.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Haven't Posted In a While...</title><content type='html'>I've had a lot going on the last few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Not even sure where to start or what I feel like writing about, right now.&lt;br /&gt;School's kicking my butt.&lt;br /&gt;I had a big scare the a few weeks back that I wouldn't pass two or three of my classes for the semester, which everyone knows can irreparably screw you over, as far as college admissions are considered.&lt;br /&gt;So I've been taking care of that and managed to bring my grades up.&lt;br /&gt;I still am going to have a D in AP English, but it's better than an F.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I can't seem to do better in school.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody says I'm way smarter than what my grades say, that I just don't apply myself fully.&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that my entire life, in pretty much everything.&lt;br /&gt;I can do better, I just don't try hard enough.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not entirely sure what the heck that even means, but I guess it must be true, if so many different people have said it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I don't "apply myself".&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm scared of what might happen if I do.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've just become so used to playing the role of the fool or the average student, that I'm apprehensive to "fully apply myself", because I don't know what it will bring.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I really am capable of better grades and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's what worries me.&lt;br /&gt;That I might give it my all and end up in the same place where I was before.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe that I will legitimately try, and people will realize that I truly am capable of better, and start to expect more and then I'll burn out and get tired of giving it 100% 24/7 and let them down.&lt;br /&gt;I'm terrified of letting people down or disappointing people, including myself.&lt;br /&gt;I get so frustrated when I try and can't do something that I just don't try as hard as I can, and tell people that I could do better, I just didn't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;I've been working like crazy, and I don't see that slowing down at all, anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;One girl, who was actually a lot of help- she showed up when she was on schedule, actually worked while she was there, and  had no problem filling in for other people so I wasn't always the only one to have to do it- got fired because of some stupid argument with another girl that works there, but it happened outside of work.&lt;br /&gt;So if anyone understands that logic any better than I do right now, please feel free to explain it to me.&lt;br /&gt;Then we had one of our main waitresses evidently quit Thursday night, which I understand, because she's going to go be a nurse.&lt;br /&gt;Cool.&lt;br /&gt;Fine.&lt;br /&gt;But she was on the schedule for last night, our busiest night of the week, when we had a reservation at 7:30, which i found out about at 7:00 for 21 people.&lt;br /&gt;So it was Eddie, Mira, and myself, with the typical Friday night crowd plus 21 and another group of 10 that decided to drop in unannounced.&lt;br /&gt;My job is, by far, the greatest source of stress in my life, but there really isn't anything I can do about it, when I'm at the bottom of the wait-staff totem pole, and people don't understand the concept of scheduling hours ahead of time, so we know who's working and who isn't.&lt;br /&gt;The girl that was supposed to come in last night just never freaking called.&lt;br /&gt;So we were waiting around all night, assuming she'd be a good person and show up.&lt;br /&gt;I guess not.&lt;br /&gt;I'm most definitely FREAKING out about college applications.&lt;br /&gt;I originally got denied from UNCG because the Western Guilford High School Counseling Department decided to screw me over once again and report a bunch of my grades incorrectly.&lt;br /&gt;So I had to basically re-apply to ASU and UNCG, re-submitting my transcripts and a bunch of letters of recommendation, explaining the absurd situation.&lt;br /&gt;So that's over with, but now all I can do is sit around and wait for the schools to tell me if they want me to go there or not.&lt;br /&gt;And I have no clue what I'm going to do, if they both say "No".&lt;br /&gt;There's so much other stuff going on right now, but I either can't express in words what I actually want to say, or I'm too distracted with all this other nonsense that I can't even think of it.&lt;br /&gt;There will probably be a part deux to this post, not sure though.&lt;br /&gt;~Jaypee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-8409017044503844265?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/8409017044503844265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/03/havent-posted-in-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/8409017044503844265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/8409017044503844265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/03/havent-posted-in-while.html' title='Haven&apos;t Posted In a While...'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-7268317104938499852</id><published>2009-01-12T07:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T07:53:20.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bro-Chill Cookout</title><content type='html'>So I guess it was back in October when Blake, Peej and I started a sort-of tradition of having an impromptu cookout in the church parking lot every couple Sunday afternoons.&lt;br /&gt;They're always really awesome; we just chill, grill up some burgers and bratwursts, listen to a football game on the radio and hang out.&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday was BY FAR the best one EVER.&lt;br /&gt;At first I was kind of thinking it was going to suck because when we got to Harris Teeter with everyone to buy all the food, I looked around at all the dudes that were there, and it was a bunch of guys that never really hang out with each other, and so I thought it was going to be really awkward.&lt;br /&gt;So we picked out everything that we wanted, headed up to the checkout line and created an absolute debacle trying to figure how to split $60 amongst eleven guys, when a few of them had either only a debit card or no cash at all.&lt;br /&gt;But we finally figured it out and headed back to the church to get the cookout going.&lt;br /&gt;The first few burgers were a little iffy, but they started turning out well, once we got into a groove.&lt;br /&gt;I was working on polishing off the the last of the brats, when we heard the fire alarm for the church go off, turned around and saw Blake walking out the door with a look of absolute horror on his face.&lt;br /&gt;Evidently the smoke from the grill had gotten into the air ducts and set off the alarm.&lt;br /&gt;Some dudes (not firefighters) came by and told us to move the grill farther away from the intake, and we were all good.&lt;br /&gt;Then some of the guys found a huge slingshot in the core room and started firing off our excess coca-cola cans with it.&lt;br /&gt;I was on the phone with Alexis Arkfeld when I almost got nailed with one and let some choice words slip out. (Sorry Alexis!)&lt;br /&gt;We decided to move it to the back parking lot to see just how far we could really launch these bad boys and when we ran out of soda cans, resorted to rocks, a shoe, some cupcakes and...a bottle of urine.&lt;br /&gt;Spencer and I were the guys holding the slingshot when this particular load of vile ammunition was loaded into the slingshot.&lt;br /&gt;Not once was either of us hit with a cupcake, soda can or even a rock.&lt;br /&gt;But I got smacked in the arm with the bottle of my friends' pee.&lt;br /&gt;Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;We later found out that dumping the coals into a storm drain was a terrible idea because there Were dead leaves down there that are evidently highly flammable...whoops...&lt;br /&gt;We got the fire put out, and all was right with the world again.&lt;br /&gt;I think God really surprised me with the amount of brotherhood and fellowship that went on between this group of guys that ordinarily hardly ever talk to each other, and all-in-all, it was a really awesome cookout.&lt;br /&gt;Time for school :(&lt;br /&gt;Bye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-7268317104938499852?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/7268317104938499852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/bro-chill-cookout.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7268317104938499852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7268317104938499852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/bro-chill-cookout.html' title='Bro-Chill Cookout'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-1929525398592152644</id><published>2009-01-06T07:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T13:30:41.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking a lot recently about my future and where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; headed in life.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't really accomplished much in doing this, because I have absolutely no clue as to what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I want to go to app state to study marketing, but then what?&lt;br /&gt;There are a million different directions in which one can go with a marketing degree.&lt;br /&gt;Do I want to be a realtor?&lt;br /&gt;Do I want to go into advertising?&lt;br /&gt;Do I want to be some pencil-pushing mid-level marketing consultant for some major corporation that will provide plenty of financial &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;stability&lt;/span&gt; and security, but will absolutely strip me of any sort of individuality at my job?&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;And that's terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;To not know what the heck you want to do.&lt;br /&gt;Not even just in the context of my career, I have no clue what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to do after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; too old to Be a student at the core, but too young to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;leader&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of going to to suck.&lt;br /&gt;The core has been the only place in my life where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; really felt at home, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;where&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; really felt like everyone there truly cares about me.&lt;br /&gt;some of the best friends &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; ever had, I met at the core.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it'll be easy for me to make friends at college, regardless of how many of mine are already planning on going to app, and no matter what they tell you, everyone is afraid that they won't be able to connect with anyone at their new school.&lt;br /&gt;Like my last post, this one doesn't really have a point or even an ending.&lt;br /&gt;There's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt; ending to this post because I wrote it out of confusion, just trying to get my jumbled thoughts in order.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure if it really did that, but it's whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; bored at school and had  a lot on my mind that I needed to try and figure out.&lt;br /&gt;There's also no end, because there isn't an end to the confusion and uncertainty that I seem to be experiencing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;whatever&lt;/span&gt;, help period is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-1929525398592152644?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/1929525398592152644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/future.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/1929525398592152644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/1929525398592152644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/future.html' title='The Future'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-5387077954750299403</id><published>2009-01-04T22:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T16:24:51.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lust</title><content type='html'>So I was chilling with some guys today that used to be in a band called "The Morning Amazing".&lt;br /&gt;We used to play shows with them, back when i was in Lumberjack.&lt;br /&gt;I got to thinking, and my mind meandered on over to this song of theirs, called, "The Blackest of Beards".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&amp;amp;friendID=322058621&amp;amp;blogID=371477063"&gt;I'm posting a link with this, so you can read the lyrics.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song has spoken to me so much, ever since I first heard it.&lt;br /&gt;Not only is it an awesome-sounding song by some really great friends of mine, but it talks about lust and the damage that men do to women when we give into the temptation the Satan gives us to lust after who the media tells us is "beautiful".&lt;br /&gt;This is something I've struggled with overwhelmingly for as long as i can remember.&lt;br /&gt;Something i still struggle with on a daily basis, and something that affects and even sometimes invades every other aspect of my life.&lt;br /&gt;It seems like every time I meet or see a female, I instantly judge her based on my ignorant, childish view of physical beauty.&lt;br /&gt;It's almost become instinct now.&lt;br /&gt;And that kills me.&lt;br /&gt;It kills me when I see some of my most beloved female friends suffering and hurting because of some guy that has treated them poorly because of his own struggles with lust.&lt;br /&gt;It kills me when I want to confront the guy about it, but can't because I know that I've pretty much done the exact same thing to other girls in the past.&lt;br /&gt;It kills me when i want to speak out against lust and pornography but feel as though I'm in absolutely no place to do so, because I struggle with it daily.&lt;br /&gt;It kills me when I struggle with Internet pornography and give in time after time to Satan as he  tells me that I'm not good enough before and after I give in to lust.&lt;br /&gt;He takes the difficulties that God places in my life in order to strengthen and empower me, and he twists and perverts them to make me feel like I have no choice but to give in and sin.&lt;br /&gt;Not just to lust, but to do all kinds of the garbage that he throws my way.&lt;br /&gt;He makes me feel like I'm too weak to resist his temptations and that things will be easier once I go ahead and surrender and get that out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;And then afterward, he makes me feel like I'm worthless.&lt;br /&gt;Like I have no place leading other people to Christ and that I'm even unworthy of God's love.&lt;br /&gt;And that takes such a toll after years and years.&lt;br /&gt;But the thing is, that's exactly what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;Because when I give in to that crap, the simple act of lusting or committing any type of sin, it certainly doesn't bring any sort of glory to God.&lt;br /&gt;But also because I don't feel like I'm in any sort of place to even be worthy of being in the presence of God's love, and that makes me avoid prayer and digging into His awesome word, which is exactly where I should be in times like that.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say with this post.&lt;br /&gt;This is a problem that I'm nowhere even close to solving, and it has been so difficult to write this, knowing that anyone in the world with Internet access could potentially see this and realize that I'm not nearly as perfect as I try to tell others and myself that I am, but I know that writing it will in some way bring glory to God, like when David let the entire nation of Israel know about his affair with Bathsheba and when he killed her husband.&lt;br /&gt;His people saw that he wasn't perfect.&lt;br /&gt;That he was a humble king, not some high-and-mighty dictator, and that glorified God in ways I couldn't even begin to comprehend.&lt;br /&gt;I'm certainly not trying to compare myself with King David, and definitely not saying that I've raped and murdered people and that by posting this, it erases everything that I've done.&lt;br /&gt;But God loves me, no matter what I do.&lt;br /&gt;In ways I could never fully experience or understand.&lt;br /&gt;And that's so comforting.&lt;br /&gt;Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-5387077954750299403?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/5387077954750299403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/lust.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/5387077954750299403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/5387077954750299403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/lust.html' title='Lust'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-9175345407810673746</id><published>2009-01-04T19:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T20:34:11.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Year, Many New Things To Come</title><content type='html'>A lot of people have been asking me if I'm okay, in reference to my previous post.&lt;br /&gt;I'm great, I just had some stuff I needed to get off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;Just to clarify- that wasn't about any one girl in particular, that was a lot of stuff that I've dealt with and done over the past several years, including the time before I knew Christ.&lt;br /&gt;It was about several girls.&lt;br /&gt;Every girl I've ever encountered, to be completely honest.&lt;br /&gt;I think the reason that post shocked so many people is because we try to always act like we're okay; like we've got all our ducks in a row, and that every thing's under control.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, that's what society tells us to do.&lt;br /&gt;Especially as men, society has twisted our role as loving leaders to mean that we have to always act like we've got a plan, like we're going to fix everything and make it alright.&lt;br /&gt;Just like women, we men face the albeit less damaging but still dangerous stereotypes that the media and society has told us we have to be.&lt;br /&gt;They tell us we have to be the big strong dad that's always got the suit, tie and briefcase during the week, going to the office everyday to provide for and support the family, and over the weekend we don our jeans, flannel shirt and tool belt to go around the house with our honey-do lists fixing everything- making everything safer, more stable and generally better.&lt;br /&gt;All of this is fine, until we start to obsess over these stereotypes and put every ounce of our being into fulfilling or even epitomizing these roles that we've been told our entire lives that we have to be.&lt;br /&gt;And when we make it known that not everything is perfect, that we're not these big strong I-can-do-anything men, everyone goes into a panic.&lt;br /&gt;This in addition to the fact that I'm not usually the serious guy.&lt;br /&gt;I know good and well that I try to fulfill the role of the comic relief.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever there's an awkward moment or something happens that I can't deal with, I try to laugh it off.&lt;br /&gt;Or at least make everyone else laugh to try and cover up and distract them from  the fact that I have no other defense against difficulty or emotions.&lt;br /&gt;I'm always the guy that's in the back of the room at "cry-fest" on project serve that's joking it up or sleeping to distract myself from the people bearing their souls to each other because I don't know what I'd do if I let it get to me.&lt;br /&gt;If I actually took the time to come up with a new year's resolution and stick with it, I guess it would be to be more honest, more real with people.&lt;br /&gt;As I realize how much I value honesty in others, I realize more and more that I'm most certainly lacking in that department, because I'm afraid of what people might think of me, if they saw who I really was.&lt;br /&gt;I use sarcasm and inappropriate humor to build these walls in between myself and my loved ones because I'm afraid of being rejected.&lt;br /&gt;So I guess this year, I'll try to be more real with people.&lt;br /&gt;And this will also reflect onto my blog.&lt;br /&gt;I know those who have been following my blog (which is way more people than I initially thought, by the way) have enjoyed hearing about all the crazy things that happen to me everyday.&lt;br /&gt;my stories about weird creepy old Latina ladies in Buicks and my mom's recent obsession with The Gorillaz, but from now on, my posts and my conversation in general will take a more serious tone.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be more up-front with people about what's really going on inside my head and what God's telling me.&lt;br /&gt;Don't fret, I'll still have crazy stuff happening to me that wouldn't in a million years happen to anyone else on the planet, and I'll post that stuff on here, but when God's really telling me something, I'll set down my stupid Americanized manly pride and be straight with you.&lt;br /&gt;Well,  per usual, I typed about thirty times more than I had originally anticipated, but it's whatever.&lt;br /&gt;That's what happens on here.&lt;br /&gt;I start writing and stuff just pours out.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if people even finish reading the stuff I post on here, because it's so long.&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever, dude.&lt;br /&gt;I got a bunch of crap to do for school tomorrow that I should have been doing over the entire break, but I put the "pro" in procrastinate...yeah, that was a really crappy joke, I know.&lt;br /&gt;Buenas noches, amigos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-9175345407810673746?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/9175345407810673746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-many-new-things-to-come.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/9175345407810673746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/9175345407810673746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-many-new-things-to-come.html' title='A New Year, Many New Things To Come'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-4368755525502034339</id><published>2009-01-02T21:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T22:18:10.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Give Up</title><content type='html'>Whatever, dude.&lt;br /&gt;I give up on the womenfolk.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I try and start something with a lady friend, I usually end up screwing myself over in some way, shape or form.&lt;br /&gt;I get too into her and she doesn't reciprocate and then I make it known to her that I'm interested and she tells me that she doesn't reciprocate and then it's awkward and then we have a short falling out which seems to suck for me a lot more than it does for her and I'm left standing there looking like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;Either that, or she was at one time interested and the window of opportunity opens and I don't have the balls to do anything about it, and then it shuts and I'm still there looking like an even bigger idiot.&lt;br /&gt;It wouldn't be so bad if I had never been able to get things right.&lt;br /&gt;But I was, believe it or not, at one time, somewhat not terrible when it came to women.&lt;br /&gt;But now, for some reason, whenever I talk to one that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; remotely interested in, I get all nervous and either make a fool out of myself, or I can't seem to even say a single word, and then it's really awkward.&lt;br /&gt;and if I do somehow manage to not make a complete  fool out of myself immediately, then one of the above situations happens.&lt;br /&gt;And it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done being rejected by any girl that isn't either mentally unstable or over 50 years old.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done looking like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done making poor decisions with females.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done missing opportunities.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, I'm done feeling inadequate because I, for some reason unknown to me, just can't seem to get things right with women.&lt;br /&gt;No one needs that crap.&lt;br /&gt;whatever, dude.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just freaking done.&lt;br /&gt;sorry if I bore/piss off/irritate anyone that's reading this, but I had some stuff I needed to get off my chest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-4368755525502034339?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/4368755525502034339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-give-up.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/4368755525502034339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/4368755525502034339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-give-up.html' title='I Give Up'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-6012967550336549859</id><published>2008-12-30T14:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T14:49:03.917-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So I Guess I Can't Go Running Through My Neighborhood, Anymore</title><content type='html'>So sometime last week, I forget which day it was, I tried to go for a jog through my neighborhood.  Yeah, I was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; bored. &lt;br /&gt;And it was too freaking cold and I felt like I was going to throw up.&lt;br /&gt;It sucked.&lt;br /&gt;But then, on my way home I passed by the weird lady filling in for our usual mailman.  (He has a batman tattoo on his leg and a batman license plate on his truck...it's awesome...we call him "Batman".)  And evidently, since I was wearing a shirt that said "MARINES' on it and had my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;key chain&lt;/span&gt; containing a dog tag around my neck, ( my sister bought the tag at some thrift store in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Charlotte&lt;/span&gt;.  I looked the guy up, turns out he was killed in action, so I put his tag on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;key chain&lt;/span&gt;) this woman thought I was in the marines.  She walked up to me, and was like, "I really appreciate what y'all are doing over there, and I don't feel like you get enough respect and support." Very confused, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;responded&lt;/span&gt; with, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Uhh&lt;/span&gt;...you mean at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mykonos&lt;/span&gt;?"  And she replied with, "Sure, if that's where you're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;stationed&lt;/span&gt;".  (I guess she thought mykonos was in Iraq.)   I didn't realize what she was talking about until 5 minutes later, when I saw my reflection in the side of a car I was running past, and laughed my butt off.  &lt;br /&gt;People probably thought I was crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;I figured &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'd&lt;/span&gt; give it another shot today, and was evidently mistaken again, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I unknowingly wore the same Marine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Corps&lt;/span&gt; t-shirt, and was saluted by a police officer.&lt;br /&gt;I got a little warm, since it's a nice day out, so I ditched the t-shirt.&lt;br /&gt;Big mistake.&lt;br /&gt;Some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Latina&lt;/span&gt; lady in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Buick&lt;/span&gt; drove by me really slow and stared at me.&lt;br /&gt;Twelve times.&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I was going to throw up, again.&lt;br /&gt;I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to give up running.&lt;br /&gt;For good.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever, I have to go get ready to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;Stay in school and say "no" to drugs.&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Jaypee&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-6012967550336549859?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/6012967550336549859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-i-guess-i-cant-go-running-through-my.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/6012967550336549859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/6012967550336549859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-i-guess-i-cant-go-running-through-my.html' title='So I Guess I Can&apos;t Go Running Through My Neighborhood, Anymore'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-2529377219444561904</id><published>2008-12-24T00:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T01:14:22.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Christmas Break, Thus Far</title><content type='html'>So Spencer just brought it to my attention that it's been a while since i've posted on here, which is actually pretty true.  I wish I could say that I've been too busy to post, but I just haven't really had much blog-worthy stuff happen recently.  That plus a dash of lazy and about a gallon of watching unhealthy amounts of football over the break, and you get J.P. not posting anything on his blog.  So it seems like the number one small talk question has been, "So how's your winter/Christmas break going?" and honestly mine's been, for the most part anyways, pretty boring.  I kicked it off on Friday night with a work sesh at the most delicious, albeit most stressful Greek restaurant in town, went home and fell asleep watching Sports Center and texting.  Saturday was actually really cool.  I got to church around ten in the A.M. to help pass out clothing/personal hygiene items outside of Urban Ministry.  When I got there, there was some guy whom I'd never met before, but simply introduced himself as "Mark".   Come to find out, Mark was a guy who had at one time lived on the streets, but was, through the help of some people from Westover, making the transition to living in a house of his own.  Mark was one of the most awesome people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.  He had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like absolutely everything he said was 100% legit.   A rare quality in this day and age.  When we got to Urban Ministry, our bus got absolutely swarmed by homeless people, and there was pushing and shoving and a fight almost broke out, but Mark shut all the doors to the bus and took control of the situation.  He had everyone form a single line and after that, it went way more smoothly.  It really broke my heart, though, when we started to get to the end of the line, and a lot of people didn't get much more than a pair of too-small gloves and a razor without any shaving cream or soap, and it really killed me when a lady with a little girl walked up and got next to nothing.  It was kind of discouraging at first, because i thought that, no matter how hard we tried, no matter how much stuff we collected, there would always be those people at the back of the line that were left wanting.  But after further reflection, meditation and prayer, it has really pumped me up even more to start collecting more items so that we can go back as soon as possible and hopefully reach some of the people that we missed.  It was great to see the people who really saw Christ working through us.  The ones that felt Christ's love oozing out of a mini-bus full of high school kids who decided to not sleep in obscenely late on a Saturday morning, so that they could share that awesome love with the downtrodden people of the city that I love.  Needless to say that I'm really freaking glad that all the folks who came out to help did.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was alright, even though it was pretty boring.  I felt like dressing semi-nice that day, so i threw on a dressy-type shirt, some khaki pants, dress shoes and headed off to church, where i got a surprising amount of compliments on my choice of garb that morning, which was pretty cool.  I mean who doesn't like being told they look fly? That's what I thought.  After church, I went and got a much-needed, even though wayyy over-priced haircut from a lady that smelled like Goodwill.  (Cigarette smoke, dust, and mildew, for those who have never graced the aisles of this particular awesome however dirty store.)  After that, i washed the irritating little pseudo-hairs out of my scalp, and chilled for the rest of the afternoon, until i watched a very disappointing Panthers game. :[&lt;br /&gt;Monday was also pretty boring until a little after lunch time, when i went with the lovely and talented Ms. Bonnie Shaw, so that she could help me finish up my Christmas shopping at the oh-so-classy Four Seasons Town Centre.  (That's right, the "e" is supposed to come after the "r".)   I got some pretty sweet stuff that my loved ones will hopefully appreciate.  But even if they don't it's always a blast hanging out with Bonnie, since she tends to add an awkward air to just about anything that happens to me, so it was definitely worth it.&lt;br /&gt;Today was most definitely the most boring of the days of my break thus far, as i did nothing.   Literally nothing.  I lazed around the house in my very flattering Wester Guilford sweatpants.  (They make my tushy look good.)   Until the UPS guy came by with a big ol' box o' cheese from my Grandparents.  I would have knocked the whole thing out then and there, had it not been adressed to my Dad.  Then i went to work, which was really irritating and stressfull, especially when an old woman (not lady) cussed me out for something that was someone else's fault.  That is, until Blake Adamson and family dropped in, which made my night.  After that, it was pretty sweet.  haven't done much in between then and now.&lt;br /&gt;I wrote way more than I thought I had inside of me. (Please, no inappropriate jokes about stuff being "inside of me".)&lt;br /&gt;alright, i guess that's it.&lt;br /&gt;¡Nos vemos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-2529377219444561904?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/2529377219444561904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-christmas-break-thus-far.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/2529377219444561904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/2529377219444561904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-christmas-break-thus-far.html' title='My Christmas Break, Thus Far'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-3452865246091731646</id><published>2008-12-17T16:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T16:45:50.567-05:00</updated><title type='text'>DECA Competition</title><content type='html'>it was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;what more can i say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lauren&lt;/span&gt; and i went in there, sat down, saw our assignment and both let out a simultaneous, "Crap".&lt;br /&gt;our assignment was to design an identity theft protection plan for a 5 star hotel that had recently had a major &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;corporation&lt;/span&gt; have their meeting there.&lt;br /&gt;after their meeting, they left all their invoice, receipts and the such in the conference &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;room&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;later, another guest came along, and stole the identities of all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ceo's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;it basically boiled down to upgrading all the locks in the hotel, upgrading everything to a digital system, including a guest database from which we would delete our guests' information upon their request at checkout, and training all the employees to better monitor the entire hotel, and how to react appropriately if such a situation did occur again.&lt;br /&gt;we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;went&lt;/span&gt; into the judging room, and the first person i saw was this sweet little old lady, so i thought we were good.&lt;br /&gt;no.&lt;br /&gt;we had some mean-looking middle-aged man, who, had a way of looking at me that made me feel like whatever i said was the complete opposite of what i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; be saying.&lt;br /&gt;i assumed we wouldn't win anything, because i thought i had screwed it up for the both of us, but turns out we were both acknowledged for our test scores as well as our role play, and ended up placing 3rd in our event overall.&lt;br /&gt;it was freaking awesome.&lt;br /&gt;but after we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; our trophies, medals and plaques, the judges told us that we had tied dead-on with Nick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Mahaffey's&lt;/span&gt; team, and so they split up the awards, giving each team on e trophy and one plaque, thus each person only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;receiving&lt;/span&gt; one item.&lt;br /&gt;i was pretty pissed but they said that they were going to mail the other items later, so that's straight.&lt;br /&gt;and if i had to tie with someone, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; glad it was at least a friend of mine.&lt;br /&gt;i had intended to get some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;shopping&lt;/span&gt; done at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;hanes&lt;/span&gt; mall during our lunch break, but ended up not finding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;anythinng&lt;/span&gt; for anyone, but instead buying myself an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Appalachian&lt;/span&gt; hat.&lt;br /&gt;i always do that.&lt;br /&gt;i go into a store with the full intent of buying someone for someone else, and end up buying myself a bunch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;of crap&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;oh well.&lt;br /&gt;all in all, it was an awesome day and an awesome experience and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; glad that i was able to participate in it.&lt;br /&gt;that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;matlock&lt;/span&gt; out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-3452865246091731646?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/3452865246091731646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/deca-competition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/3452865246091731646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/3452865246091731646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/deca-competition.html' title='DECA Competition'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-8359650528233720359</id><published>2008-12-15T21:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T21:54:10.395-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dream From Saturday Night</title><content type='html'>so i fell asleep watching anchorman on saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;whether or not that has any correlation to the weirdest dream ever, i have no clue, but it seemed worth stating for that sake of the introduction.&lt;br /&gt;so i dreamt that i, along with about 30 other guys from the core, were all ninjas (stay with me, here) and we all lived in this compound/barracks type set-up.&lt;br /&gt;we were attacked by these enemy ninjas, and we beat them up, and afterward took all their masks off, but one of them turned out to be alex edmiston, whom we thought was on our side, but turned out to be one of their spies, instead.  so we kept alex as a p.o.w. and let the other go, for whatever reason.&lt;br /&gt;then a few girls came to visit us, including lindsay adamson, who was downstairs making rice in the middle of the night, when the enemy ninjas attacked again, scaring the living daylights out of lindsay, and causing her to send the rice flying everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;now, for some reason, before going to bed, we had used two-inch rope to tie human-sized ragdolls on top of ourselves, and thus also tying ourselves to our bunks.&lt;br /&gt;the enemy ninjas were fooled by this trickery and beat up the dolls, leaving us behind.&lt;br /&gt;afterwards, there was this one little kid ninja, who was like 8 years old.&lt;br /&gt;he was walking out, when andrew daubin, who had slept through the entire ordeal, woke up, saw the little dude, and freaked out.&lt;br /&gt;mini-ninja started screaming, attracting the attention of his amigos, who then came back in and fought us.&lt;br /&gt;after we beat the snot out of these dudes, andrew had broken his right thumb, index and ring fingers in the mele, which justin hite healed miraculously with a song.&lt;br /&gt;easily one of the weirdest dreams i've ever had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-8359650528233720359?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/8359650528233720359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-dream-from-saturday-night.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/8359650528233720359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/8359650528233720359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-dream-from-saturday-night.html' title='My Dream From Saturday Night'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-7726547259704351471</id><published>2008-12-15T19:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:59:01.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i love</title><content type='html'>my mom.&lt;br /&gt;she just spent an hour watching gorrillaz and gogol bordello music videos.&lt;br /&gt;haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-7726547259704351471?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/7726547259704351471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7726547259704351471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/7726547259704351471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-love.html' title='i love'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1790428665456639308.post-4205892256308131688</id><published>2008-12-15T19:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T20:01:18.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post</title><content type='html'>Alright, so Bonnie convinced me to start up a blog.&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know what i'm really going to write in here, if i even end up keeping up with this, but it's whatever.&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'll start off by talking about my day.  (i guess that's what bloggers do)&lt;br /&gt;it was kinda bland.  regular day at school, i guess. Burwood's class was boring and confusing as always, the lunch line was long and irritating as always, and Mrs. Gamsby weirded me out with everything she said. You guessed it: as always.&lt;br /&gt;i'm noticing more and more how much difficulty i'm having paying attention, especially during our book discussions in AP English.  and then i try to pay closer attention, but i'm focusing so much on paying attention, that i can't focus on what everyone is saying.&lt;br /&gt;i zoned out today, just staring at a light that was coming through the window, and being cast onto the floor.  i was trying to remember the lyrics to some yosemite mudflap song. i came to, thinking it had been just a few minutes, but looked up at the clock and realized i had been doing this for twenty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;it kinda sucks.&lt;br /&gt;but after i got through that class, the rest of the day went by pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;we are testing our maxes all weekin weight training, but since i won't be there tomorrow, i had to do bench press and squats today.  i impressed myself, by benching 165(an increase of 20 lbs) and 205 on squats ( a 40 lb improvement). so that was pretty awesome.&lt;br /&gt;we have DECA district competitions tomorrow, and i don't think i'll do very well, but it's straight because i get a day off from school to work for like 30 minutes and spend the rest of the day at hanes mall.&lt;br /&gt;so not a bad deal, all in all, even though i'm completely unprepared.&lt;br /&gt;i guess that's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1790428665456639308-4205892256308131688?l=makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/feeds/4205892256308131688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/4205892256308131688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1790428665456639308/posts/default/4205892256308131688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://makeyourmommaproud336.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-post.html' title='First Post'/><author><name>Jaypee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04983391920741193228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3j8BRCqW05U/Sn06bZagWoI/AAAAAAAAABw/TUsROx9RszU/S220/jppssmile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
