Howitzer

Five hours later....

A few minutes ago I was reading an article about how our hands contain entire microbial ecosystems that may be used to identify ourselves in a crime scene. As in, forensic investigators may some day be able to look at the microbes left on a knife, and match it with the known microbial ecosystem on our hands. It's sort of like fingerprinting.

I mused about the millions of residents living on my fingers, before realizing that I needed to wash my hands for work. So I promptly squeezed out some hand sanitizer foam, massacring millions of germs who had called my fingers "home".

I'm a mass murderer.

Here I am, sitting in Bradley International Airport in Hartford, waiting for the time to pass before I return back to Michigan. It's been an eventful 2.5 weeks, a trip that I'd say was a memorable one. I got piss ass drunk with Richard, Phil and Glenn, hiked in rain forests, banged up my body on the slopes, and chilled with Dan, Jane, and Kitty. It's not the archetypal spring break, nor am I even in school to require one, but I have found this vacation strangely eye opening. I experienced a lot of things that I'd forgotten about, as well as many new ones.

I read an interesting article a few months ago, when I was fresh from my breakup. It registered with me intellectually, but I don't think I really grasped the meaning of it until today. According to the article, first experiences really shape how you view things. They can build up your confidence, or tear it down. For example, if the first time you ask a girl out on a date, she turns you down in a humiliating manner, you're likely to be fearful of trying again.


For the past few months I've been thinking that I've lost my desire to do things with my life. I still enjoyed activities both alone and with friends, but I just really didn't have any motivation or plan for my future. Right now I'm basically in limbo; I'm sitting back in my hometown, on a indefinite break from MIT, with no plans to look for a full-time position anywhere. The thought of going back to MIT to finish my degree was just repulsive. The idea of working a desk job at some big company just felt like a waste of time.


I am now suspicious that I'm just afraid. Afraid of taking the risk involved in moving away again and trying something, whether it's school or work. People pointed out that moving to Boston was my first real experience away from the familiarity of home, though I always disregarded that. I'd lived away from my parents for so long, and I'd even moved down South for a summer once, on my own. But after reading that article, it's possible that my "first time" trying the unknown ended up a disaster, and it made me adverse to trying new things again.


If this is true, then it's much easier for me to overcome the doldrums that I'm in right now. The quickest way to beat fear is to ignore it and plow ahead. I can't really let one bad experience ruin my world view can I?


- Howitzer




http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200912/heartbreak-and-home-runs-the-power-first-experiences

Today, I realized how much my happiness is dependent on the people surrounding me. My friends, and the kind of social life I can enjoy, these things all have a heavier impact on me than I recognized. I thought maybe I was alone in my feelings, but after polling a few friends, I found that they seem to think the same thing.

Went snowboarding for the first time yesterday. That shit hurts! I had a lot of fun though. I definitely will be going again.

It’s now 7:06am Eastern time. I’ve just arrived in Detroit Metro Airport from spending five wonderful days in Seattle. After one failed attempt to leave Seattle (mechanical failure!), I finally left on the red-eye flight to Hartford via Detroit. I’m so tired from barely sleeping the previous night, on top of the little sleep I got in Seattle. It seems important that I’m passing by my hometown while en route to my next destination. I’m not sure what symbolism to draw from here. I had a great time in Seattle with great friends, and my spring break trip is not even half over.

Everything seems slightly surreal right now. Coming in from the air, I couldn’t recognize anything from above. Must be the snow and the time. Everything before the past few days seems to be from another chapter of my life. Perhaps I’m just too tired. However, I do feel a new beginning rising within. Already, I feel ready to go back home and pick my life up again, with my vacation only a third over.

I feel as if I’ve been given a second chance in life to figure out what I want to do with myself, albeit somewhat forced upon. Everything seems positive at the moment, though I can’t tell if this is just a momentary feeling. I will do my best to remember this feeling, so that I can call upon it if I feel aimless again.

At the same time, I feel strangely nostalgic. I’ve been around airports all my life; I probably fly at least six times each year (12 in 2009). I will always remember the sunsets I watched while waiting in the terminal during layovers. Right now, the sun is rising, and gets brighter each minute. I guess I associate this moment with a feeling of anticipation, of something to look forward to.

In Hartford I visit my cousin and a buddy, both of whom I owe a lot. It’ll be good to see them both again. Hartford here I come! What disguised blessings will I find?

- Howitzer, 3/4/2010

Appetizer: