Other than the really boring speech, I had another problem. Our graduation is not well-organized. The university is supposed to mail every student a card with their name on it that the student presents to a speaker before they get their diploma. The speaker reads the student’s name, the student walks across the stage, shakes hands with some old guy, and takes his or her diploma. Well, I didn’t get my card. No big deal. Our university website told us to let someone know if we didn’t get one on graduation day. I let someone know. They directed me to someone else. Then I was directed to someone else. That person told me to take a seat and someone would come around in 10 or 15 minutes to take care of all students with this problem. No one came.

As I sat through the ceremony, during my waking states, I was near freaking out. What do I do when I get on stage? Do I now whisper my name to the guy? If I do that, would the mic pick up my voice? Oh my God! Oh my God! Since I’m a fairly smart guy, I figured I’d just hand him my student ID, and let the speaker read from that. Problem solved. Though I shouldn’t have had that much anxiety on graduation day.

What I have I been doing for the last week or so? After getting all of my company out of the house last weekend (I had people over from Wednesday through Saturday), I decided I needed a week’s vacation. I must note that a week’s vacation for me, since I don’t have much money, means staying at home and being lazy. This works well for me.

I’ve made it through seasons one and two of Stargate SG-1, a few movies I’ve seen countless times, and now I’ve started watching Battlestar Galactica again. I’ve got to get some new stuff.

I have been educating myself though. Reading books. Keeping my mind sharp. I finished reading The God Delusion, which I wrote a review of. Interesting book. I’ve since read I Robot, Running With Scissors, and Pledged. I read the firt book of The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy and four pages of Einstein’s Relativity (too heavy for me to read right now).

I’ve decided to finally get on the Harry Potter bandwagon and read Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which is the second book of the series. I figured I might try to catch up before the final book is released. I’ve been on a four-year hiatus since the first book. And to think I run Books In Bed.

What’s on the agenda from here on out? Next week I have to see about getting some kind of employment that doesn’t involve burgers and fries. Review all the books I’ve read. Continue building this website and Books In Bed. Maybe have a little fun. Live life.

I honestly don’t know what’s next, but I’m kind of looking forward to it. I finally feel at peace with the thought of something different, and I think that’s the point I needed to get to. This doesn’t mean I’m not scared to death about what’s coming. I’m just oddly ready because I don’t have to know what to expect, just know to be expecting something.

I thought about not blogging today in remembrance of the Virginia Tech victims, and participating in One Day Blog Silence. Well, I’ve been silent long enough since the day’s almost over.

It was bit of an odd day. Of course, today I was a little more observant of the things going on around me — I didn’t want to miss a thing on my final day.

To start the day, I woke up an hour late, which gave me only 2 1/2 hours to write an entire article on One Day Blog Silence for my Feature Writing class and finish my Tiger Cub journal.

On to the odd things. The first odd thing I noticed was at about 10:45 this morning. A guy is walking between the Haley Center (where all my classes are) and the library. He’s walking right into the sprinklers. After being sprayed for about 10 seconds, he looks around and finally noticed he’s getting soaked.

About 20 minutes later, I’m walking back to the library from class, and a guy walking ahead of me is wearing a long-sleeved dress shirt, camouflage shorts, and running shoes. I know I’m sometimes behind in the new styles, but I don’t think this one will hold. So, I’ll take my chances and not flee to the nearest retailer.

While in the bathroom, you know, doing my thing, I notice there’s some new writing on the wall. The old pictures and words had been scribbled over with a black marker. Today, I saw a drawing of a penis dubbed “Glenda” and written beside it was “I Corinthians 15:33.” Obviously, I looked that up as soon as I got to my Bible as Literature class. The quote is:

Do not be deceived:
   Bad company ruins good morals.”

I read a little more of the chapter, which seems a little interesting. Paul, the author, is a fairly exciting guy at times.

I actually finished Thomas L. Friedman’s The World is Flat. I’ve been reading it since late December or January. Today was the first day in the last couple of weeks that I’ve had the time to sit back, relax, and do some extracurricular reading.

Our Tiger Cub program had a end-of-the-year party. Afterward, I worked out with Scotty, actually letting him pick what type of workout we would do.

I also received an anti-hate flier today — my last flier I’ll probably ever get while walking along the Concourse. It was a response to the hate crime committed against an Asian student on April 19. I haven’t really looked into that, so I won’t make any comments about the event right now. It’s kind of odd that I got this on the same day that I wrote an article related to the Virginia Tech shootings.

Overall, it seemed like an ordinary day — aside from the weird things I noticed. I did get a halfway decent parking space this morning. Yes, on a Monday! That’s something to be thankful for. I’m not saying it was a great space, but an acceptable space.

There are a few other things I would like to share my thoughts on about my last day, but I’m trying to get this post up before the end of the day. I just feel like it has to be finished by 11:59 p.m. So, I’ll try to share those thoughts at a later time. However, I’m sure I’ll forget them when the time comes.

Mostly, I need a moment to reflect on what this day means. Maybe that’s something I need to do personally, something that I can’t put into words just yet. I finished my last class at 12:50 this afternoon. That’s something I definitely need to think about.

Today I said it. Well, I said what Joel’s dad said. I just don’t think the F-bomb rolls off my countrified tongue as nice. “What the heck” is much more poetic, don’t you think?

Have to write a 10-page paper by Thursday at 12:30? What the heck. Do it all in one sitting. Get up in the morning and write the entire thing, finishing only a half hour before you have to turn it in. What the heck.

Maybe this isn’t exactly what we’d call Risky Business, but it’s a little dangerous with my grade hanging in the balance for the 19th Century British Novel. In my defense, I have literally not had the time to write it before this morning. That’s if we’re not counting the weekends. And, I don’t count the weekends. They’re off-limits to homework and things like that, unless I’m actually enjoying the project.

“‘What the f—’ gives you freedom. Freedom brings opportunity. Opportunity makes your future.” Now, my future lies solely in that saying. I had the freedom of writing like a member of the academic elite on speed all morning. I’m not sure what kind of opportunity that might bring.

Let’s get back to this F-bomb thing. I think I’ve been so indoctrinated into the southern way of life, that I can’t just drop one without sounding a bit weird. Sure, country folk do say it, but many times it has that sound of being not part of the vernacular (at least where I’m from).

When I mentioned “what the heck” sounds a little more poetic, I’m sure you’re wondering how this is so. See, the word “heck” brings with it certain connotations particular to southern culture. The F-bomb is much more universal. Being a part of southern culture means being able to say “heck” or “ain’t” or “y’all.” It just rolls off the tongue. “Heck” has meaning. It has substance. It’s filled with years of bad language and people not learnin’ their readin’ and writin.’

The F-bomb has its own meaning, but not like the sound of hearing that southern drawl. The word “heck” means something more to me than the F-bomb ever could. It’s the sound of home, the essence of a place deeply rooted in my soul. And essentially, it brings me back to that place I grew up. Those dirt roads I bicycled down. Those games of dominoes on Sunday afternoon I intently watched. Granny’s cooking. Running barefoot through the woods. Building treehouses. Seeing Boo-Boo put a half a can of snuff in his mouth. Hearing the top of a Natural Light pop off. Washing ourselves with a water hose. Drinking from the same water hose…

Somehow, I’ve gotten a little off-track from my original topic for this post, and now I’ve forgotten what it was I was going to write about. If nothing else, remember, a single word can carry with it a world, or a lifetime, of meaning.

You might ask yourself how a word could have so much meaning. Come stay here a while and you’ll understand. What the heck.

Visit Thursday Thirteen to see others’ lists.

Believe me, my weekends are nothing to get excited about. But, I wait for them anyway. I usually sit around and watch a TV season of something on DVD. Maybe I’ll get to work on the website (which I hope to do this weekend). Maybe I’ll check the mail, but it’s not likely. Or, wash clothes. I haven’t performed that essential chore in about three weeks. I’m actually surprised that I’ve had enough pairs of boxers to last this long. And socks. I think I’m down to the last two or three in each of those categories of clothing items.

Looks like I’ll be washing clothes this weekend.

Why do we, or at least I, live for the weekend? Maybe we hate what we have to do during the week?

I know I hate going to school and work. But, I really don’t. I actually like parts of school. I actually like my paycheck and the people I work with. I don’t like tons of homework and some of my classes. I don’t like looking at books for hours on end working in the “stacks” at the library.

Maybe if I could just get rid of the parts of school that I don’t like. For example, transfer from The 19th Century British Novel to Fiction Writing II. Get my Bible as Literature professor to only give one hour of homework a night instead of two or three. Give my Introduction to Ethics professor a complete character change. I’m not sure what I could do about the library though. I do like my paycheck.

What if I could just correct those few problems? Would I be happier with my week? Probably not.

Maybe I live only to complain.

My real complaint is time. If only the day was 30 hours long, and nothing else changed. Standard workday still eight hours. Standard amount of sleep required still eight hours. And just leave me with an extra six hours to do what I please.

Would that make me happier? Probably not. I’d complain that the week is too long.

The weekend isn’t getting here fast enough.

But, I stray from the subject. Amazon has screwed up my last two orders. Well, the delivery people have. They, for some reason, won’t leave the package at my front door because I’m not home. This has never been a problem before.

The first order, due December 26, was Christmas gifts for Amy, my sister, and Tim, my brother-in-law. It’s now being replaced and reshipped. The next order, which was due today, was the second season of 24, and I need my 24 fix right now. I recently finished the first season, and I’m despearate for another great story.

I got TiVo on Monday. This the best add-on to the television since its invention. I even spent an hour tonight playing Wordsmith, a game on the TiVo. I’m addicted.

And, oh yeah, I’m almost through with my first week of school. I won’t bore anyone or even myself writing about the details. However, I will say that I potentially found a job that I might be interested in after I graduate (this came from my Editing & Design professor). Copy Editor. The pay is a little better than a reporter’s, I don’t have to do all those interviews, and it’s easy to move up fast because there’s not a lot of competition for the job.

I know this sounds like a lot of random things for one post, but I’m trying to cram this week’s happenings in this post and in a few minutes. I had some Internet trouble earlier in the week, and I’ve been adjusting to the major time minimization with school and work. I hope to be back on track from here on in with my blogging.

My life, up to this point, has been preparation for this May. It’s a bit weird — I know I’m approaching one of the most decisive points in my life, but I don’t feel like I’m approaching it.

I feel like I’m supposed to keep doing the same thing I’m doing now, the same thing I’ve been doing my whole life.

I’m a student. I always have been. In a few months, I’m not supposed to be a student any longer? I’ve done this whole “student” thing for 18 years now. I kind of like it. I’m kind of settled into that way of life.

I mean, I haven’t even posted enough in the School category yet.

I’ll probably never quit going to school though, at least I hope I don’t. I wouldn’t mind getting a degree in Physics, Software Engineering, and Business. Maybe a master’s degree somewhere in there. And yes, I am an English major.

But now, I have to prepare for something other than school. How does one go about doing that? I guess I’ll be figuring that out soon enough.

Currently, I plan to teach high school English while earning my Alternative Bachelor’s Certification for teaching. I still think I’m that 18-year-old kid getting ready to graduate high school sometimes, just with a bit more life experience. Soon, I might teach 18-year-olds? I honestly feel worse for them than for myself.

Mostly, this is a post about my worries. I have to get it out of my system now and then. I’m sure there’ll be plenty more posts where this one came from in the coming months.

I suppose I’ll post my classes for this semester for anyone who’s interested in what I’m taking.

• The Bible for Students of Literature
• 19th Century British Novel
• Feature Writing
• Newspaper Editing & Design
• Introduction to Ethics

I think The Bible for Students of Lit will be interesting, but a tough workload. And, Intro to Ethics, I should’ve taken that four years ago (it’s a freshman class). Maybe it’ll be an easy A. I didn’t get into Fiction Writing II, unless someone drops in the next couple of days. So, I’m still hoping for that, but it’s unlikely.

I definitely need to get in bed now. I’ve got to reprogram my biological clock for school hours again. You know, go to bed at 2 a.m. and get up at 6 a.m.

This runs parallel to the major question in any person’s life, especially a soon-to-be college graduate’s: What am I supposed to do? Or, what next? We’re always trying to find a purpose in life. But, the truth is, I have found few people who know what their purpose in life is or what they want to do with the time they have.

Me? The only thing I know how to do is school. And I’m not really that good at it either. But it’s what I’ve been doing for almost 18 years now. So, the only thing I can think of to do next is more school. I have decided to take it to the next level after I graduate in May with an English degree. The plan is to get a Master’s in Education. This doesn’t necessarily mean that I want to teach for the rest of my life. It means that I want to have another option for when I have to decide what it is I’m supposed to do next. Nothing’s set in stone just yet, though. I have to get into graduate school first.

I guess I’m at that point in most college students’ lives. I’m trying to figure it all out. And I’ve only got six months left to do that in. Plus, I still have to find a real job after I graduate. What fun?

I don’t feel ready.

Sometimes I feel like I’ll be an important person, that I will accomplish great things in life. Other times, I’m just as confused as I’m feeling at this moment. I need to build a resume? I need to develop interview skills? I need to have a portfolio of my work? I need to do this, and I need to do that?

I know that no one can know what the future holds. However, we are still expected to know what we are supposed to do as a career. The first step is probably stepping out in the world. Get your feet wet. Learn how to handle criticism and rejection. Learn how to be unknowing and still accept that everything will be all right.

I know it’s a different world out there, but I don’t know how different. That’s what scares me the most.

“I’m thinking about asking Mary Beth to homecoming,” Taylor said.

“Ask her then.”

“Like it’s that easy.”

Creek Hill was a small town. Sammy’s was on Milford Street, which had five stores on either side. The school, CHS, where Taylor and his friends were seniors, was one of the three other buildings that weren’t on this street. It was a half hour drive to buy groceries. Creek Hill School had 800 students grades K-12, fifty of which were seniors, and most students were involved in all activities. Guys were expected to play sports. Girls were expected to cheerlead. The post office had two employees. Bingo night was on Wednesdays at Town Hall.

“Man, I think you should forget all about the dance and just come to Wyatt’s field.” Jordan took a sip of his shake. “Nobody goes to the dance, except seventh and eighth graders.”

Taylor finished off his shake, thinking about how nice it would be to have one night for him and Mary Beth. He was 17, and he hadn’t had a relationship that lasted over 2 months, ever. Everyone else he knew always had a girlfriend. There wasn’t much to choose from around Creek Hill either.

Mary Beth Sanders was a year younger than he was. Taylor had liked her since he was in the third grade, and he always believed that she was the one for him. She was on the cheerleading squad, which was nice for Taylor because he got to see her every Friday night when he played football. They had art class and yearbook together, and that allowed him to get in a few good jokes now and then to try to impress her. But she didn’t seem to think much about his attempts at flirting, Taylor thought.

The next day, Taylor looked across the room, watching Mary Beth struggle with her drawing. A root beer bottle and cowboy boot sat on a table in the middle of the room. All of the students in art were required to draw it. Taylor, instead of drawing, was running through the possible ways and the possible answers of asking Mary Beth to the homecoming dance. He scribbled in his notebook, “I know we don’t really hang out, but I was wondering if” and, “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time,” scratching them each out. He ripped the page out of his notebook and crumpled it up, deciding asking her face-to-face would be best.

After the bell rang, he quickly packed his backpack and tried to catch her before she ran out of the room. She was already in the hallway amongst her friends. He would do it after yearbook class, he decided.

Once again, his attempt failed. She had beaten him out of the class and into a group of friends. He saw Jordan hurrying toward him in the hallway. “Man, I need to talk to you,” Jordan said, and led Taylor outside.

“Mary Beth knows.”

“Knows what?”

“That you’re going to ask her out.”

Taylor’s stomach tightened at the words. “How could she possibly know? You’re the only person that I’ve told and unless you said something…”

“No, somebody apparently overheard you at Sammy’s last night. And you know how these things go. I’m sure everybody knows by now.”

At that moment, Taylor decided that he had nothing to lose. If he asked her, one of two things would happen. She would either say no or yes.

He waited alone at the school recess area, walking around the tables and benches, waiting for her to walk by before cheerleading practice. Ten minutes passed before his chance appeared. Mary Beth walked toward him. He knew she was in control.

“So, I hear you’re gonna ask me to homecoming,” she spoke first, relieving some of Taylor’s stress.

“Umm, yeah,” he smiled, lifting his head a little, alternating the weight from his left foot to his right.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, but I just wanted to—”

“Well, I don’t want to go to the dance.” Taylor’s smile went away. His stomach was tightening for the second time that day. “But, I will be at the party at Wyatt’s field. If you show up, maybe we can hang out or something.”

His smile returned. Taylor, realizing that he never actually asked her to the dance, still felt like he had accomplished the impossible.

The party was in Jim Wyatt’s field, a half-mile into the woods off County Road 17. Trees lined the highway and ran back to the field opening. A bonfire was set up in the middle of the field, and Mary Beth was standing next to the keg with three of her friends. Taylor decided not to rush her right away because they weren’t on a real date.

Most of the night, Taylor stayed beside Jordan, refilling his cup from the keg until he saw Mary Beth without her friends. This was his moment, he thought. He sat on the Ford Ranger’s tailgate beside her, noticing that she was drunk. He tried to think of the right words.

“You wanna make out or something,” Mary Beth asked while leaning toward him.

“I guess—”

Mary Beth kissed him. Taylor’s heart rate increased. A group of onlookers toasted to the kiss and laughed. Taylor knocked his beer cup off the tailgate, and the kiss ended with Mary Beth leaving to find a spot to use the bathroom.

“I know. I saw it,” Jordan said.

“I can’t believe I just kissed Mary Beth Sanders.”

“Okay, now that that’s done, you think we can just get outta here?”

“Now? I have to get back to her.”

Taylor filled his cup up again. He walked back toward the Ford Ranger, looking for Mary Beth. In the distance, he saw another couple kissing. He sat back on the tailgate watching the couple. He couldn’t see who it was until another truck’s headlights came on, shining directly at them. It was Mary Beth and Jimmy from the football team.

For the next few weeks, Taylor avoided her. He dodged questions from her friends, who asked him why he hadn’t talked to her and why he left so quickly at the party. Taylor couldn’t face her. But, he knew that she had given him the one thing he had been waiting for since third grade, that kiss. She also gave him the thing he always expected, heartache. He stopped avoiding her when he started noticing Caroline Richards. Maybe she’s the one, he told himself.

###

I just wanted to share my first short story from Fiction Writing I. Plus, I really don’t have anything useful to blog about tonight. I hope you enjoyed it.

There are more and more books coming out each year that try and uncover what it means to be a public high school student today. Edward Humes does this beautifully, but he takes a different route. He goes into the heart of one of the nation’s top schools, Whitney High, located in Cerritos, California. This is not your typical school. Whites are among the minority, and Asian-Americans make up for over 70 percent of the students. There is an admissions process. Unheard of, at least by me, until I read this book. Every student is expected to not only go to college, but to a top college. Where drop-out rates, drugs, and sex are running high in many of the schools in the country, Whitney doesn’t have this problem.

The problem is pressure. Not the pressure to keep passing grades. Not to date the right guy. Not to win the state championship in football. But, the pressure to succeed. Parents, teachers, and students are driven by this force. Humes uncovers something that is almost unheard in America: a sound educational system.

Not that Whitney doesn’t have some of the same problems that face other schools in the country, they just deal with them better. They put education back where it belongs. The top spot on the students’ priority lists.

Humes also deals with issues that plague the country. Should we take standardized tests as the only way to know how well a school is doing? Shouldn’t we be looking at what students learn inside of classrooms? Should schools follow the route of Whitney, forcing students to succeed? All questions that education policy-makers should be asking.

Humes reports what life is like in a community where its members are driven to succeed. This is a must-read for anyone interested in making education in America a top priority.