I’ve decided I’m just not going to cut my hair until Christmas break. When else in my life will I be able to get away with looking like a bum for a couple of months? It’s not like I need to look presentable, since I don’t have a girlfriend and don’t see myself acquiring one before… ever. And it should be at least February by the time I start doing job interviews and stuff. Why make an effort to look important when the fact is, I am anything but?

Nothing screws over a perfectly good week like spending the first half minus the ability to breathe through your nose. I came home one evening thinking, “boy, good thing grandpa sent this tin of tea, that’ll feel perfect on the ol’ throat!” I opened the Lipton Assorted Tea container to find… a hamburger bun bag filled with peanuts. Which come in awful handy for watching football, but I sure was let down at the time.

And there’s something about watching the leaves turn in Oxford for what you realize is the last time that makes you wonder if you’ve accomplished anything worthwhile in the last three years. College students have no business reading Ecclesiastes; what seem like 300 repetitions of “Everything is meaningless” are less than invigorating for someone whose average day involves nine hours of sleep, three hours of trying to stay awake in class, and two cereal-based meals. Then again, reading the Bible too much is not a particular problem for someone so poorly dedicated as myself.

Two solid sources of joy during a stressful stretch:

Be still in the presence of the Lord,
and wait patiently for him to act.
Don’t worry about evil people who prosper
or fret about their wicked schemes.

Stop your anger!
Turn from your rage!
Do not envy others –
it only leads to harm.
For the wicked will be destroyed,
but those who trust in the Lord will posess
the land.
[Psalm 37:7-9]

Well there’s a football in the air,
across a leaf-blown field.
Yeah, and there’s your first car on the road,
and the girl you’d steal.

So go on with yourself
If there’s a feeling that there’s something else
Seems like it’s always understood
This time of year.
[Kevin Griffin - "This Time of Year"]

The daily spam e-mail filth is almost enough to put me over the edge. Three hours of carrying around the worst thing I’ve ever known, and already I can feel it in my stomach. If I can’t get this hatred — raw edged hatred — out of my system, soon it will be an ulcer.

And hatred is not a strong enough word. There are no strong enough words, but the darkest ones I know keep stabbing in my throat. I am glad my head hurts now; probably tomorrow I’ll be able to stop clenching my jaw. I am one of the most controlled people I know. I am shaking. Never…

As kids, we get mad. As we get older, most of us learn patience but will never stop coming across events and people too infuriating to describe. And sometimes, these events and people are one and the same: the event will not be undone but perhaps the person could be. I lack the love to get past this. I have never, and hope I never again, felt so sincerely the desire to hurt someone. I have never honestly wondered about the possibility of getting away with murder.

Death. Death is what we all deserve, and death is what I hope he gets. It is wrong, and most parts of me know it, but here is someone I would choose not to save from eternal fire. No one is too good for death, but some should meet it faster. God forgive me for this anger, and save me from this hate, but keep a special place in hell for him.

Choices cannot undo the fact that there are no coincidences. There are no coincidences. 2 Samuel 13.

I expect that, at midnight tonight, the world will come to an abrupt end. And I must admit (in the most solemnly sarcastic of tones) that it is my fault. I think today I met the girl I was meant to marry, but I didn’t ask for her phone number. Cute, goes to a Christian college, enjoys heckling protestors… anyway, ripples in the pond, butterfly effect, etc., I may have inadvertently ruined God’s plan for all eternity. If you read this prior to 12:00 a.m. on August 29th (nobody’s going to, just let it go), take heed! If you read this at any point after that - well, I’m wrong again and that’s not the end of the world.

For those of you bored enough to expand this entry, first let me beg your pardon for that half baked play on words. On a marginally more serious note, I was on my A-game today as far as politics and socializing go. I volunteered to help out with Dubya’s visit to Troy, got assigned to wander around with a clipboard making sure people were registered to vote, and put my tour guide voice/gently self-depracating humor into high gear. Yeah, I didn’t realize it had a high gear either. There were locally important politicians and college females taking note.

It is still hot & muggy and I still don’t like it. The Redhawks game was delayed 40 minutes on account of lightning, and since we got kicked out of the stadium we just came home. Regional ESPN was here though, and from what little I watched on TV I’d have to say Betts will be, to quote Switchfoot, “more than fine.” The Michigan game may be physically painful and I’m not 100% sure I want to travel in said state in anything less than a battleship. I plan to ride in the back seat crying softly with my eyes closed.

ACH!? Reflexively I swat at whatever just grazed my neck, then smack it with my pillow. I don’t bother to look at the clock but while I’m up I might as well make a visit to the restroom. Praise Jesus that I shut the bedroom door behind me, because when I open it again there is a black shadow flapping around the room. Bats creep the pants off me, and if this one had attacked me while I was peeing the outcome would have surely been disastrous.

I figured it was a cicada or something. Nasty as those monster bugs are, at least they aren’t a bat. Even bats are kind of cool, when they are behind glass or at least a good distance away. In your room in the middle of the night… that’s a different story. Little beady-eyed, winged demon mouse.

Like a ninny, and because I don’t know what else to do, I leave the door open and high tail it downstairs. Somebody left the light on in the living room and my wandering tormentor follows me. I figure it’s better to wake DK and Van Hizzle asking for help than it would be to wake up everyone by running through the house screaming. I still don’t know what time it is, but I feel bad flipping on their light and saying, “Hey, you guys have anything that’d be good for bat killing?” DK says “tennis racket!” then rolls over and promptly falls back asleep. Van Hizzle gives me a couple towels; I apologize for the trouble and slip back into the kitchen.

Batty McSatan is in the living room crawling around in his freakish bat way on one of the window screens. For a second I think I can maybe catch him off guard and whack him with a towel, but after a step towards the doorway he flips out and starts circling the room again. I’d forgotten about that whole sonar thing - so much for the element of surprise. I stand in the kitchen a couple minutes waiting for something helpful to enter my mind, when suddenly Batty veers towards the doorway and comes winging into the kitchen. I start running for the living room, and take a swing at him as he goes past my head. Naturally I miss, but I keep running and go straight to my room. Van Hizzle’s towels come in handy for blocking the cracks at the top and bottom of the door (I don’t know why this would ever be necessary but it seems like a good idea).

I wake up Junior to let him know there’s a bat wandering the house, since he’ll probably be first out of bed in the morning. It’s a little after 4 when I fall shaking into my bed. What have I learned this morning? I am a pathetic excuse for a farm boy. I’m scared of a bat, which means I’d be scard of birds if birds were furry and had creepy finger-wings and fangs. Any self respecting farm kid would have waited in the bedroom doorway for that measly bat, smacked it out of the air with his bare hands, and stomped it into a rodent scented pulp. I, however, am a pampered little sissy boy, and unless the rental office responds quickly to the repair request I will make tomorrow… I may never sleep soundly again.

Stupid window with its half of a screen and a big space at the top. Stupid hole closet with shoddily finished paneling and plenty of bat-friendly gaps. Good thing my first class isn’t until 2 in the afternoon, I think to myself as I watch 4:30 go past with the heart rate of a toddler who’s been attacked by a panther.

Ah, the fantastic joy that is autumn in Ohio. A solid week of “no chance it’s going to get hot enough to swim” weather before you move back to school, and then a nice 90 degree air-conditionerless slap in the face. Welcome back, students!

I don’t want to go to law school. I never did, but off and on the results of a juris doctor degree sound appealing. Which, as a result, is kind of the same as wanting to go to law school. Suddenly it’s senior year, and I still want to do what it is I’ve planned on doing, and I’m sure I’ll find a job when I graduate. It’s what I’ll be doing 20 years down the road that has me wondering if I should do some more planning ahead while I’m tangled in this whole college thing. Will I wish I had gone to law school? Crap.

I just finished reading In, But Not Of by Hugh Hewitt and it was a good book. As expected, Mr. Hewitt is pretty demanding in his advice to would-be leaders and influencers of future society. So you’re left with a tough juggling act, wondering specifically what God did drop you into the mix for. Am I supposed to accomplish big things - or REALLY big things - with my life? Hard to decide whether calling it quits after 4 years of school and going out into the business world would be selling myself short. Hard to decide whether trying to go to law school and then do who knows what in the world would be a vast misstep in arrogance and personal expectations.

It doesn’t help that I think maybe I want to be hypereducated as a means of making up for my doofus-ness. Lots to think and pray about here…

7:35pm Goggin Ice Arena
Miami 4, Ohio State 3

I won’t lie, this one looked bad at first. Real bad. The Redhawks didn’t really seem to care; lots of sloppy passes, getting beat to the puck. Ohio State’s first goal was short-handed, and that of course was no better. It took the better part of the first period, but Miami got some momentum going, started taking care of the puck, and answered to enter the second tied 1-1.

Once both teams got moving (which, like I said, took Miami awhile for some reason), tonight’s game turned into a great one. The Buckeyes struck again in the second, but again Miami answered before the period was out. The Redhawks did not take as many shots as usual but this was ok because they scored when they had to. Control of the ice was a continued struggle for the entire game, and when Miami scored midway through the third period OSU answered again to tie things up.

With less than two minutes remaining in sudden-death overtime, Michael put one in for the Hawks during a power play to seal the deal. One of the best games I’ve seen; beatiful goals by both teams, great performances by both goalies, an all-around exciting matchup. Final score: Miami 4, Ohio State 3.

7:35pm Goggin Ice Arena
Miami 5, Western Michigan 2

Excellent game! The Redhawks controlled the ice for a majority of the game, and although WMU’s goalie had a great night Miami put in 5. Ok, they put in 4, and then the 5th “goal” was granted after the Broncos commited a penalty during an open-net breakaway. Still - 4 goals is not bad. There was a lot of checking, but not too many penalties. The game went fast and the Hawks had a lot of shots and it was a good time.

Western Michigan scored 2 goals on less than a dozen shots, but Crawford-West played well… the shots that got through were pretty nasty ones. Probably the high point of the game was Miami’s 4th goal: a beautiful pass to the top of the crease, slapped right into the corner of the net. It sealed the deal and was just so dang pretty. Final: Miami - 5; Western Michigan - 2. A dose of redemption from an unfortunate tie the night before.