You'll see two docks up ahead. Our very own paradox

I spent some time before starting this blog reading old Jungle Cruise jokes. The last time I went to Disneyland, I had a pretty sad stripper, I mean skipper, who thought he was funny but was definitely in da nile. When I tried to relay the good jokes I'd heard in the past, I found I was just firing blanks. The point is one of the age old rules that everybody knows but nobody follows: You just had to be there.

I bring up paradoxes because this week I've been thinking about one in my own life. I love home and yet I never go home. While this is partially true for my apartment, as my roommates can attest to how little they see me, I'm speaking in particular about my old home, my parents home. I love home. I get along great with my parents and siblings (though Drewe Yorke doesn't live there anymore and Cheeky Monkey works mornings now at Starbucks so she sleeps early). I love going there and just relaxing, watching their awesome shows on TV (the only time I really watch television) and catching up with the family. Whenever there's a family event, I do my best to make sure I make it. And yet, I still don't go home very much, and since going to college never really have. This is my paradox, though this isn't the best or most accurate use of that figure of speech. I love home and yet dislike the thought of going home.

Let me elaborate. I noticed that when my friends, staff members or whoever tells me they are going home for the weekend, I get very perturbed and even annoyed. Why are you going home? I think to myself. Why would you want to do that?

Now this makes no sense because the reasons I go home have varied from having laundry to do to big family holidays. I don't need a good reason to go home. Why do I, in my head, demand that others do. Know that I no longer really voice my opinions about this because I realize they are rather preposterous.

I think one of the biggest reasons I dislike the thought of me or someone else going back home is because I associate it with a loss of independence. Since I was 9 years old and got my first "big kid" bike, I have craved and thrived when given independence. I would ride around the neighborhood for hours just because I answered only to me and could go where I wanted when I wanted, at least in my eyes. I think its the same thing. Going home means going back to the old ways, where I'm under my parents rule and follow their lead in everything. Despite the fact that that is not true, my parents give me plenty of freedom when I come home, I still associate home with a lack of independence. And hearing other people who go home every weekend, I think to myself, why would you give up this freedom?

I think other people have different relationships with their families too. Like my staff member Pandita whose ties to her family are so close that they talk multiple times a day and run a family business together. I have a great relationship with my family, but we don't talk everyday. We don't necessarily talk every week! So maybe because I don't understand the term 'close family' the same way as others, the thought of constant trips home seems troubling to me.

I think there's also the selfish mindset of "but then you can't hang out with me." Even though there's often the situation where I wouldn't even be hanging out with the person otherwise. This would explain why the two people who it doesn't bother me much when they go home are Brock and Clark. I see them more than anyone else, so there going home isn't draining any hang out time because we are well stocked. Also, if they go home, then that translates as more independence for me because I'm sharing a space with less people. Weird huh?

Anyway, those are just my thoughts. I don't actually dislike people who go home every week or even judge them for it. In fact, I applaud that relationship. I'm troubled by my own troubled response, that's all. I'm the one with the problem.

Steakhouse, who I haven't mentioned in this blog since like the 3rd post, but if you recall is a good friend of mine who was on a few past staffs as well as lived in my building her first year, has been trying to tape me as a submission for "What Not to Wear". She even used her phone to make a video but then realized I was wearing Joe's jeans, which apparently qualify as trendy (they were a gift to me so I don't know more than they are very nice). So I foiled her plot for now. It's only a matter of time, I'm sure I qualify. I don't even own a comb. I couldn't pull off a
"style".

That triggered an amusing thought: If I dressed better and took more investment in my appearance, more people would probably think I'm gay. Meh! What else is new?

Steakhouse has also been trying to throw together a little reunion with old friends like Dr. Beeker Flips, our friend in Med School and El Bandito, and whoever else is still relatively around from the early days of our time at school. That works perfectly for me, because Tenshi has been helping me compile a sort of bucket list to do before I leave. If you have any suggestions feel free to facebook them to me.

I don't know if I have any other amusing tales to tell you tonight, though I've been thinking about this blog all week. I haven't done many Brock quotes lately, so let's see what I have in the ol' book.

A quote from Brock's dildo incident: "I haven't had this much from with something rubber since they were passing out aborted childen on campus."

Sometimes I know when my roommates have had... "company" and I was explaining this as such:
James-"I come home and go... 'Something in this apartment has changed'"
Clark- "It's his sin sensor"

Brock- "I don't mean this in a racist way, but I wish we had slaves. I'd just want the company."

*facepalm*

OK have a great week!

-JTY

Listening to: Stairway to Heaven by the immortal Led Zeppelin. "And as we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our souls..."

Reading: nothing. fail.

Playing: Brawl! I found a pretty worthy opponent this weekend. It was a nice change.