Total Internal Reflection (Optics Joke)

First blog post.  I think I've always been a blogger at heart but I'm late to the party.  I've arrived now but no one really notices because the party is in full swing and everybody is wasted.  I'm still glad I came though.  Anyways, let's move past my analogy and into some hardcore blogging.

I am what many people would agree is a spiritual man despite my arrogant teenage years. However, I like to express my struggles in written word.  I recognize one of my biggest stumbling blocks is one that has flared up in recent days.  My biggest distraction from Christian spirituality is seeking human companionship in pretty girls.  Not sex, I'm not that easily satiated.  I just idealize the prospect of having someone to share your life with.  The idea of a "soul mate" is one of the most enticing concepts to me.  This leads me to jump the gun with every girl who I think I have a chance with, alienating God and creeping out the girl who finds herself in my crosshairs.

Many Christian writers address the issue of seeking Christ in secular relationships (bad) and the foundations of healthy Christ-seeking companionship (good) but still, here I am.  So I'm going to reflect on my past history and the decisions I've made and the decisions I make by the soft white glow of my Dell notebook.


One memory I have of my first largely embarrassing, emotional crush on a girl happened in 7th grade.  To be honest, before this time I hadn't really wanted to be in a relationship with anybody.  In fact, the prospect was terrifying.  But as my body went through those hallmark changes that most middle schoolers can relate to, my feelings also began to change.  But whenever you do anything for the first time, you're going to be nervous.  I had no idea how to go about choosing the right girl, who had all the proper balances of qualities and characteristics, but I was 13 going on 30 and just had to pick somebody, anybody.

I was in the gifted program at my junior high because I had been in gifted in elementary school.  My views on gifted programs will not be addressed in this entry.  However, being gifted was very important to me at the time, so naturally the first place I started looking for possible wives was in the gifted program.  So now I've already set myself up for failure but I was determined to find the fabled smart, pretty, funny girl.  Despite my aspirations, I settled on to this one candidate and began building her up in my head, so high, that in a matter of days, there had never been a more perfect girl (an irrational and hormonal fallacy that I would conjure up several more times in life).

So that was that.  I had an object of desire to pursue but the barrier of potential humiliation lay between me and realizing the joy of dating the "perfect girl."  Then my sister Kelly said something that motivated me tremendously one night when I was talking about my crush coupled with my fear-induced paralysis.  She said in response, "Ok, if you wanna miss out on some sweet make out sessions..."  The crude honesty resonated in me.  I immediately floated away in daydream to Patient 0 and I, in a bathroom for some reason, attempting what my 13 year old self envisioned making out to be.  I had no choice anymore, I'd have to ask her out.

Over the span of about 3 months, leading up to Christmas break, I let my feelings known to everyone but her.  This only strengthened my obligation to finally do something about it, but what?!?  I had simultaneously been getting drawn into music that reflected my angsty disposition.  A band called Dashboard Confessional had written the anthem to my situation as a song entitled, "Hands Down."  I sat, listening to the song repeatedly on my sister's Napster, until she would yell at me for making her sick of it.  Then it hit me.  I knew how to ask Bomb.com to be my girlfriend!

It's the last day of school before winter break begins and all my classes are pretty slack. I had picked this day as D-Day but I had been dreading storming the shore.  I had printed out the lyrics to "Hands Down" with a small "Will you go out with me??" post script.  Time was running out as each period ended, but how would I gain the courage to pull off the romantic "here!" thrust at her?  Well, I didn't.  I passed of that job to a sympathetic classmate, who always called me Vinmeister.  I never actually got the closure of rejection but I'm sure all her friends heard about what a creep I was. 


Anticlimactic?  Well middle school relationships are always awkward.  I can't really remember how dealing with the shame and embarrassment affect my walk with God, but that's because I was in junior high and Pokemon occupied my thoughts three hundred and forty seven times more than Jesus.  Future failures did lead to blows with God but that will unfold in later entries