Sense of Entitlement.

Do I have one?

If so, I'll get rid of it. I hereby waive my ownership.

My name on the dotted line.

Do I think I'm a shoe-in?

I'll relinquish that thought, too.

I will omit all delusions of grandeur, as well as any feelings of superiority from the terms and conditions.

I grant you the right to file as many suits as you like for asking the following question:

Is it crazy for me to expect to get job as a 21-year-old college graduate that I could not have gotten as a 16-year-old high schooler?

I don't mean to be bitter, and I don't mean to complain uselessly,

but honestly,

I don't think it's that crazy.

Things

are gonna be holier this time around.

That's not a New Year's resolution, nor is it me just trying harder.

It's sanctification.

"Stop thinking of God's will like a corn maze, or a tightrope, or a bull's-eye."

-Kevin DeYoung in Just Do Something

The Graduate

He sees two roads: the road ahead, and the road behind.

But, they're really two parts of the same road.

He sees the dusty footprints behind.

He sees the fresh, open road ahead.

He sees totally cliche images.

Neither the stage he crossed nor that sheet of pressed, dried, wooden pulp brought about miraculous changes.

He still makes mistakes.

He struggles to write, think, be creative.

He trips over flat surfaces.

Yet, grace continues its monsoon season.

New starts, new opportunities, new relationships.

More clarity, more understanding, more joy.

He did approximately nothing to deserve these things.

It's pretty scandalous, this road.

Elementary, Secondary...Tertiary.

In less than 40 hours,

a sheet of pressed, dried, wooden pulp

will be one of the last remaining pieces of material evidence

that this place is a part of me.

The sheet will reveal my bachelorhood

in the art of studying society

cum laude, de Universitas Belmontiae,

in Nasburgum, Tennesia,

Civitates Foederatae Americae.

This sheet of pressed, dried, wooden pulp,

nor any other sheet,

could really convey the significance

of this place and time in my life.

As intensely nostalgic as I could get

about popcorn and cards,

Weber, Durkheim, the matrix of domination, and the sociological imagination,

Goethe, gute, und Gott,

candles, records, coffee, and guitars,

v-necks, skinny jeans, sneakers, and plaid,

I will refrain,

and not in the musical way.

But, do believe that I would do it all over again.

Eight One of Eighty-One

That makes three decades,

and I must say,

out of the two point one

that I've known them,

they've been

pretty crazy about each other.

No complaints here.

Only first class honors.

Happy anniversary

to my favorite parents in the world!