hammerscythe

That was heard over and over again in the second half. Hammerhead RFC won handily, and as co-captain, I'm pretty damn excited to get a win on my first watch. However, I played poorly, and I mean, poorly. I know some of you guys maybe saying things like, "cheer up guy, things will get better!" I played like crap. The team was way better than the week showed, and we played together as a unit. Hilton Head will be a good match for us. My D was good, but getting hit in the pills the second real play of the first half hampers you. The O was horrid, I mean, the vision wasn't there. There's next week, and hopefully, I can better the team.

With that said, Happy New Year! Three days till the Obama Presidency starts. Historic days we're living in, dudes and dudettes.

School's pretty good, we're on the break for the MLK weekend. I've got a better hold on my academics, it seems, than last semester. I've gotta just stay on my own ass and make sure that I stay in the books. My english class is kinda screwy, I mean, I'm all for expressing how I feel about a text, but ancient writing sucks a lot of balls, and I should have taken something more modern. This is why late registration should be avoided. At all costs.

My b-ball reffing skills have gotten way better, I mean way better. I'm comfortable in my own skin and whistle, and I've grown to ignore the crowd. Now, to give my first exit technical. It's only a matter of time. :) Baseball camp is next month on the 7th, and I'm pretty ready for it. I can call on the diamond in my sleep, and I think softball's included.

This is it for the now, think I'll go wake up in the AM and play ultimate with the school kids.
If my body allows. I need to get in the pool.
Faster, Marx, faster! [pax. transend.]

 that motherfucker owns life. he's in the pantheon of heroes.

I'm solo on XMas this year. Didn't really feel good going to the fam in Macon.
On that note, Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Happy Kwanzaa/Merry Festuvus to everyone.
Year end stuff coming soon! Yes, there will be sports metaphors! You love it! [pax. transend.]

Now I understand why Kanyeeze's so damn egotistical.
It's simply because he refuses to recognize his limitations. And I understand that I have to do that same thing. Not to the same degree, mind you, I can't afford the wardrobe. It's the fact that you've gotta rock with the people that rock with you, have this insane/paranoia border fear of failure, and this insane work ethic. Simple, right? Simple.

The last few days have been sucktastic without the Jeep. I mean, I swear, you'd think that there was a Mr. Fusion [big ups to Doc] in my Jeep. It's been five, count 'em, FIVE DAYS to replace a fuel filter. Really? Really? Me thinks car repair is a giant racket. I don't know, if it's not ready tomorrow, there's going to be an unhappy Marx come sundown.

At this point, I'm at a loss for words.
Probably because it's somewhere near 3:30.
To bed with me. [pax. transend.]

 as an aside, 77.8 degrees right now. I'm totally in shorts now. yay, global warming!

Thanks to everyone that gave me birthday wishes, wallposts, myspace stuff, texts, calls, mental telepathic messages, whatever. It was much appreciated, and I'm stoked that all of you guys would take a sliver of the day to send those messages. Thanks, guys, it really means a lot.

The 23rd was one of those great thought birthdays, I mean, I talk about how I need to keep the true friends closer and to make time to hang with those kids. Well, I realized that most of the people I weeded out of the life of mine, for the first time, stayed the fuck out. It's because I didn't let them back in. It seems logical and easy, but as always, the simple things always are. I think I'm finally really appreciative of the people that are in my life, and those the came and went, you taught me something, so I guess I gotta show you some love as well. Maturity. Awesome. :)

Jeep update, it wasn't the tranny, and I dodged a HUGE missile there. Faulty fuel filter, and they're fixing the electrical faults as well. 500 bucks, and I'm out of there. Now I realize why the cruise control was not reacting as it should have, and why the jeep would stall out sometimes; not enough fuel going to the injectors. That's why I was pouring the injector cleaner into it, and it wasn't making a huge difference. She'll be back within a day or so.

I'm saving for one of the mac minis for my combo bday/xmas present to self, but it'll wait a bit. I got more shifts at the bar, so it'll make a huge difference on the money situation for me. Yay cash! The folks want me to go to the MacTown this Christmas, but how do I explain that I really would rather kick ass and make money here than spend a few super awkward days up there? Only the shadow knows.

I'm out, kids. Sadly, must clean the room.
Wait, fuck that, XBox live calls. To the console!
Big travel plans for the 09 guys, coming soon to ya. [pax. transend.] 

 So I've experienced a myriad of emotion over the past few days. Let's round 'em out, shall we?
[BTW, thanks, Lenny Kravitz, for the title. I'm also aware that it's way too early.]

Fear/the bad stomach feeling: My Jeep broke down friday AM on the causeway. Now, I've been in a car as it broke down on 95 as I was going, well, somewhere around 95. As an aside, if you break your driveshaft while going that fast, it makes a loud grinding sound and it locks the back wheels. Life flashes before your eyes, lemme tell you. Well, I was a bit freaked, to say the least. I mean, I broke down at 7:23. I had to run Islamic Confrence at 8:30. I mean, I made it, such is Marx, but man, it sucks being that close to being late, especially since I've been on the BE FREAKISHLY EARLY TO EVERYTHING horse lately. I take it to the shop Monday, I think it's a clutch, and I hope to God it's not the tranny, because if it is, that means I'm fucked. I know that's a really bad sexual reference, but lets out of the gutter, shall we?

Pride/accomplishment: I think this teaching thing is what I need to do, if not for me, for the kids I may affect. I mean, I'm just a regular dude, but it seems I have the way of the sage. I mean, every one of those kids in Islamic Confrence, and for that matter, all the kids that I talked to MUN wise were really feeling the love. I really don't know how to put it in words, but it's a good feeling. I've learned a lot about patience, helping people, and how to explain UN procedure to small kids. Such is life, I guess. [And for all my UN kids, there will be changes next year. Oh yes.]

Somewhat normality: I think the DIABETTUS [thank you, Wilford] is getting under control. There hasn't been a day that's been really bad since I got diagnosed with type 2. There were a lot of bad/sluggish days when it first reared it's head, I mean, I didn't feel like me. I felt like some dude with lead all over him. I wasn't rock and roll/jump out of a plane/Bruce Lee kick someone in the face like I usually was. It's a scary feeling to be too tired to go to rugby practice, it's scarier still to be too tired to get out of bed in the AM. It's taken a lot of self awareness, little stuff like reading labels, making the choice to eat healthier, and getting out and busting my ass in the gym. If I stay on top of it, I think I'll be ok. The great showing that happened on the rugby weekend started the good feeling, and it hasn't gone down.

Holy shit, the angry maw is coming to get me: Calling a basketball game. No crowd is closer than a basketball one. You can hear everything they say, but you can't process that stuff. I think I'm getting better. I think. I hope. The game's a bit slower, and I'm calling a lot of the little stuff, but the focus is too strong sometimes. I think I'll settle into it. There's the baseball clinic and the rules stuff next month, well, in Febuary. The one in the 'Boro is on the Ninth, so I may make that a weekend up there. Prepare yourselves, kids. The Marx is coming. 

Blarrgh: The feeling that this cold is hanging on even though it's getting beaten about the face with vitamin C, liquids, soup, and sheer will. Hopefully tomorrow, it should be gone. Hopefully.

And methinks that's it. I mean, I still need to un-Parliamentary Procedure myself. I mean, the phrase "Motion to Previous Question" keeps running through my head like a bad pop song. Yikes. That's got to change.

Sam Bradford, you're the newest member of the win the Heisman, lose the National Championship club. Drinks are in the back. Pick up the name tag. If I had a vote, it probably would have gone Tebow, McCoy, Bradford. I just don't think he's worth it. Christ, how many NBA coaches will get fired this year? 10? 15?

Tomorrow's another day. Another day to clean, hopefully.
I've gotta make sure that I get stuff done Sunday.
Somehow, though, I always manage to sleep until 4 in the afternoon. Not this time. [pax. transend.]

Old school OutKast really does it for me. Especially at 7AM.

"Let me take you on a funky riiiddeee
All around the worrlllddd
If you let me get inside your miiinnnddd
Feel your spirits riiisseee" - OutKast, "Funky Ride"

Tell me, America, how can you not love it?

The kid is back on the grind this week, all sorts of busy box. There's the MUN this Thurs/Fri, so if you're not dying, don't fucking call me. I'll be ass deep in paperwork, evaluating kids and keeping the maw off me. Rugby was the sex this weekend, I mean, the kid is doing amazing, almost illegal work on the pitch, blowing by Americans, Tongans, South Africans, everyone. Twas the sexy.

I gotta break this one off early though. There are two absolutes in life:
one is that a good pair of sweatpants are worth their weight in gold,
and two, suits and ties make me look bloody amazing. Catch you kids on the flip. [pax. transend.] 

It's pretty flagging early, going back to bed.
Hammerhead rugby today @ High Noon, and I intend to run it all out.
Pictures and such forthcoming. You know how we do it. [pax. transend.]

it only leads to bad stuff. well, not so much bad stuff, just reflections on life [good and bad].

I have no idea who reads this thing, but I'm attempting to start it over, maybe for others, but mainly for self, or some other psychobabble that makes sense to you. take it as you would like. here's the weekend update [well, more like 10 weekend updates in a giant row];

I'm a diabetic now. [life's changed A TON because of that. I'm not used to the feeling of good and bad days.]
I'm a high school official. [yup, all the zebra talk can be directed towards me. thanks.]
I'm in college. [yay, college!]
I've decided to teach. [at least, I think. that could change within a year, don't hold me to it.]
I switched to Mac now. [Bill Gates, eat your heart out.]
Rugby better. I mean, way better. [3 matches, 3 man of the match awards. in a groove. more this weekend!]
The funny hasn't stopped [come on now, you know it wouldn't.]
Oh yeah, and last, but not least;
I have a 101.9 degree fever as of 1:48:37 AM. [damn you waffle house! felt awful since the weekend.]

I'm back, kids. At least I think I am. I hope I am.
There's something that I just can't shake about this thing.
I'll be on time, more times. I promise. Things haven't obamaed, I mean changed, that much. :) [pax. transend.]

I put my cross stitched Red Sox hat on. I'm gonna need it. As a forewarning, this is going to be one of those crazy stream of thought writings. Just know that as you read, there's gonna be a lot of thought that gets thrown out there.

I'm scared. The situation in my head has become Mogadishu around 1993: There's lots of gunfire, shells everywhere, I'm not sure where it's all coming from, or if it's ever going to stop.

I am one big fucking ball of stress right now. If my life had a Homeland Security style threat level, it'd be Super Mega Ultra Red. I mean, with the situation dealing with my Mom, the fact that my Grandfather's slowly declining health, the 5626 jobs that I have, the school thing, and all the other stressors that I can't think of but are there, it's just a giant clusterfuck at this point.

Sun Tsu, who the Marx likes to quote extensively, says this about battlefield distraction:
"Know the other, and know oneself,
Then victory is not in danger."

That's a nice thought, in sentiment, really great. It's a hard thing to put into practice. It's hard to separate things as separate stressors when they all combine into one. I know a lot of you that see the Marx on a daily basis know that my moods have been shifting drastically. It's not your fault, guys and gals, it's the fact that my brain is moving a million miles an hour on problems that I just won't tell you. You can try and pry, and you might net a sliver of it, but it's really hard for me to open up totally to people. It just is.

There are many situations that are flowing through my mind at any given moment:
How in the fuck can I sit still when what's happening to my mother is happening?
Is there a way to get around the awkwardness of a failed relationship?
Can I stop the giant fucking Knight of You Fucked That Up to stop randomly poking through my thoughts?
How do you work for a guy whose girlfriend admits that she loves you?
And how do you deal with the fact that she's fucking everywhere you are?
What happens when my grandfather dies?
Grades in school? And for that matter, can I afford it?
Holy crap, I work a lot. Will I burn myself out?
Why are people dying on me left and right?
Rugby's fun, why can't I let myself blend in with the team?
Who can I really trust?
I'm a nice guy. Why am I getting hosed?
Why can't I let the mistakes of the past go?
Why am I still struggling with my faith?
Where is all this self doubt coming from?

And that's just a snippet of what goes on. I think I know how a schizophrenic feels, with questions and voices that only they can hear and attempt to answer. I'm scared to do anything half the time, because the damage control sometimes just isn't worth it. It's a strange paradigm, I've been lots of places, done lots of dangerous things, successful on the biggest stages, yet social situations will turn me into a blubbering idiot. The scary part about that is, I have no clue where that irrational fear comes from. Those of you that know me know that my play on the field is scary calm, and in a debate round or in the classroom I'm a verbal and mental assassin. I just can't shake that social overthought.

I wrote in this thing long ago that I cannot analyze life, I've got to shoot from the hip sometimes, and just let things and events go. It seems that I can't let the lessons that I've taught myself go. I mean, you'd be hard pressed to find a person that doesn't like me, but I think I don't like myself, or I guess my ego and my superego don't like each other. It's the perfect super standard that I set for myself; although I know I can't possibly meet it, I get angry with myself when I fail. I don't like to fail, and for those that have passed on, I can't possibly know if they are ok with my progress, and as stupid as that sounds, it feeds the doubt monster extra good.

There used to be a time where excelling was like breathing, I just did it. I was also an egotistical asshole at the time. Now with the addition of feelings and realism, and the subtraction of that attitude and better than you complex, I can't get back to that level for fear of disappointing others.

There are literally some days that I just want to pack up, get in the Jeep, and go away, drop off the face of the earth, and start off somewhere where no one knows me at all. Throw the ball cap and the Oakley shades on and go the fuck away. There are other days that I just want to stay in bed and not talk to anyone. I know I can't do either, but sometimes the desire is strong.

I talked to Rusty, my sage of life, and he tells me to take it one day/problem at a time. Tommy says just to flow, like I do when I'm on the field. I take the advice they give, but I know it's an uphill struggle to get rid of the feelings I feel and the thoughts I have all the time.

Sun Tsu talks about the merits of battle, to prepare to win.
I'd love to ask him the merits of battling oneself, how to prepare, winning and losing.
I'm great on the field, my safe place. Everywhere else is a bastion of terror, where emotion and thought mix and make my mind hell.

With all seriousness, I think I need professional help. Before it's too late. Making the appointment tomorrow. [pax. transend.]