Update on the life of Kendall

I need to write here more often. I don’t know if anybody still reads this.  If so, I  apologize for my slothery and I apologize for  making up the word “slothery.”  Unless that is actually a word.  In the case that slothery is a word, I don’t apologize at all.  Just assume I am well read.

Since I last updated, many events have happened.  I graduated from OU. I don’t so much feel like I accomplished something great, but I do feel relieved now that I won’t be pissing away a lifetime of money and accumulating a massive debt.

In a couple of weeks, I will be the new General Manager of the Norman Fat Sandwich Company.  I will finally be making salary, which is cool.

I recently checked off several items on my bucket list.  I have now seen Las Vegas,  the state of California, and the Grand Canyon in one exhausting yet exhilarating voyage with my girlfriend and a couple of buddies.  Those places truly are majestic in their own way.  Check them out. You won’t be let down.

I also have an amazing girlfriend by the name of Rachel Chapman.  She’s something else.  I like her for many reasons, but one of the best things about her is that she’s not your average girl.  She doesn’t play head games, she’s honest, and she likes me for who I am.  The last perk is especially hard for me to wrap my head around. I spent far too much time playing the game with women, trying to convince them that I had it all.  I feel a majority of men are caught up in that game.  In Rachel’s eyes, I’m everything she could want in a man, although she is mistaken.  I’m a badly flawed fellow, but I do the best I can, and I treat her right.  I’m lucky to have her.

Furthermore, Rachel is smokin’ hot.  She’s my kind of woman, physically and mentally. We don’t fight about useless crap just to kill time and feel like we belong in a movie.  We have been dating close to five months, and I hope we continue to date.  I’m sure we will.

I would like to take a moment to pass on some of my observations regarding women/relationships to fellow men and opposing women.  Dudes out there, don’t waste your time with complicated women. Find you a simple girl that doesn’t plan to ruin your life.  Simple girls do exist, but they are hard to find.  Be patient.  If you feel like you’re not going to find said girl, go try your luck with one of these complicated women.  May the force be with you.  You’re going to need it.  Screwing with them is like doing twelve rounds against Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader.  People in relationships, don’t ruin each others’ lives.  That seems to be all that I see out there in the real world.  Ruins.

I would like to take a moment to address the women I have dealt with in the past.  You know who you are, though I doubt you even read my blog, but I’ll pretend that you do.  For those of you who have turned me down, I want to thank you.  You weren’t right for me.  For those of you who led me on and turned me down on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays then pretended I had a chance with you the other days, I want to thank you.  You screwed my head up so bad that I wasn’t suitable for a relationship for a very long time.  During this time, I learned a lot and matured a lot, and now I am ready for one.  Had I been in a serious relationship earlier, I would probably be trapped in a piss-poor life right now with a mediocre girlfriend.  I know this seems bitter/sarcastic, but it’s not. I really think things turned out for the better, and I’m glad you had a part in that.   I’m just being positive.  I have no hard feelings toward any of you, and I wish to continue being your friends if that is what we are at this time.  Just because I have a girlfriend, that doesn’t mean that we can’t talk on the phone and stay in touch.  This last statement applies to a few young ladies.

So yeah…Life is good…Except for the whole getting old thing.  I’m still dealing with that.

–Kendall

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Published in: on June 16, 2009 at 2:10 am  Comments (3)  

The Roommate

I decided to pack up my roommate’s belongings today. He left all of a sudden, and never said why. He told us we could pack up his stuff and use his room.

I stepped into his room, and for the first time, I contemplated the man that once lived there. He was a mysterious guy. He showed selflessness in all aspects of his life. I never understood him.

Bookshelves lined the walls of his room, and the shelves were filled with volumes of literature. I decided to start there. As I placed each book in one of three boxes, I read its title. Most of the books were about Religion. Others were about less deep topics such as politics and business management. He was well studied.

I ran out of boxes, because there were so many books. I felt tired, so I sat in his old grandma-like wooden chair. It faced the window. He spent so many hours sitting in that chair, reading a book, and admiring the view. His door was always closed, but I’m sure that was what he did. It was a nice chair.

I felt uneasy sitting there. It was like wearing a dead man’s jacket, except my roommate isn’t dead. He just moved away. I turned the chair a little to the left until it formed a 45 degree angle with the window. If you suck at math, I apologize. Look it up. After moving the chair, I felt a little more comfortable.

I took in the view from the window. I could see a tree to the left. Directly in front of me, a sidewalk snaked its way throughout the apartment complex. Beyond that, only 30 yards away, was a dark, brick wall. There were shrubs at its base. A vine spread in all directions and threatened to cover the wall.

I shrugged. The view was okay at best. For some reason, I expected to look out that window and see the Great Pyramids of Egypt or the Himalayas. If I were to place a chair in front of a window, it would have to show me something remarkable. Instead, I saw a brick wall. For my roommate, that wall was enough. That sliver of life tracing its way up that wall made my roommate smile and in turn made others smile.

I think happiness is different for everyone.

I don’t know if that discovery helped me to understand him more or less. I felt compelled to write about it. So there it was. I admire the man and wish him the best.

Published in: on June 19, 2008 at 10:18 pm  Comments (1)  

That Shiny Red Jeep

I am a little homesick. I know what you’re thinking. I’m not talking about Quinton, Oklahoma. I hate that place. When I think of “home,” I imagine a place where I once lived.

I remember living on Beaver Mountain. The first time. I was in Kindergarten, I think. We eventually moved away and came back to Beaver Mountain in the third grade, but that’s a different story. When I lived there the first time, my parents bought me a shiny red battery-operated jeep. Me and my brother drove it around until it stopped working. We put a lot of mileage on that jeep.

We imagined we were construction workers. We would fill that jeep with buckets of dirt and transport the cargo to the other side of the yard. We felt important. I honestly can’t tell you what was so fun about hauling around dirt, but I know that it made us happy.

I had no fears, hopes, dreams, or even any concept of time. I was just a little punk. I didn’t understand life. I don’t say this because I feel I have achieved a higher level of thinking since then. I feel I have only achieved a different level of thinking.

Now, I am afraid. I am afraid of waking up one day an old man that constantly looks to the past for assurance that his life wasn’t a waste. I’m afraid of being alone. I’m afraid of going insane.

Now, I have a firm understanding of time. I have hopes. I have dreams. Mostly, I am just homesick. “Home” was the point in my life where I was the most happy. I was “home” when we were riding around in that jeep, just me and my brother.

Life is too complicated. I am a long way from home. Last week, one of my teachers called me out in the middle of class and asked me why I was always so happy. He said that every time he sees me, I have a big smile on my face. I was startled. I don’t think I smile any more than the next person. Apparently I do.

Life is rough right now, but I’m still smiling. I don’t know why. Maybe I smile because I can still feel that plastic steering wheel in my hands. I can see the sparkle of that shiny red jeep. I can still look back to make sure my “cargo” is okay.

When the sun would go down, my mother would stand on the porch and tell us to come inside. We would protest. “Just one more load of dirt, mom! Just one more load!”

Sixteen years later, I sometimes feel like giving up. When the sun is barely there, I remind myself.

“Just one more load!”

Published in: on February 3, 2008 at 1:23 am  Comments (2)