Inside the Mind of a Nathan

Sometimes, I try to understand certain things on the internet. It's like trying to fit my brain inside a thimble. It just hurts. Also, sometimes, video-games are just way awesome — especially the first hour. For my birthday, I got Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor. It. Was. EPIC. Literally: it began in the middle, there was travel through the underworld, there was intervention of the [gods], invocation of a sort of muse. It was the whole package.

Well screw jobs. Cuz I don't have one. Technically – I suppose – I have two, but they don't quite pay the bills. I just want to work, but I don't know how to market myself. I don't know how to tell people that I'm awesome – and I'm pretty awesome. I am excellent with the grammar. I am savvy with the math. I am comfortable with the programming. I am familiar with the poetry. I am experienced with the teaching. I am bold with the leading. I am fast with the learning. I am motivated with the morale. I am smooth with the talking. I am persuasive with the customers. I am resolving with the complaints. However, I suck at the finding of the jobs of the variety that suit my various skills.

Why do headaches have to hurt so hard? Would vodka help? Sadly, I don't have any. Would ice cream help? It'll help my soul, so I'm having some regardless: chocolate chip cookie dough. I've had a question on my mind, and I'd like to share it with you.

Hokey dokey. Here we go. Another brain drain. Though not like the  original  because I'm not just going to ramble incoherently. Rather, I'm going to ramble in complete-ish sentences.

I was on my way to writing a fancy poem, but I got distracted by brushing my teeth, making a Jack Sparrow meme, and other such things. Bleh. On my drive back home, I was soooo excited for everything! Now, I'm just something else besides excited about everything.

Meh. I don't feel like writing. I've had three birthdays so far: one to celebrate with friends, one to celebrate with Rudolphs, and one on which I actually turned 27. A fourth approaches this Sunday, which I will celebrate with Whites. The dishwasher is running. I like the sound of the dishwasher. It might even be better than a fan: it has a slightly lower pitch, and the water noises sound like waves or a trickling stream.

I think I might be losing my mind. Just in case, I decided to eat a cookie. They are the best cookies! My super-hot wife made them: chocolate chip. They had the absolute perfect balance between doughy softness and crunch. I didn't know cookies could be made that well. I've had so many cookies throughout my life, and they'll often have burnt edges, be hardly baked in the middle, contain singed chocolate chips, or some such thing. These, however, were downright perfect.

I don't feel like writing. Why is that? Deep down, I  need  to write. Every now and then, I feel this metaphysical pressure — something like the pressure in a bladder, something like the pressure you feel underwater when you need to go up for air, something like a headache that's slowly starting to nag, something like the pressure in your stomach just before a good burp. It's not a charming muse's call. The literary angels don't sound their trumpets. It's this gross pressure that builds until your system can't deal with it anymore. BELCH, and you feel better.

I really don't feel like writing. I really feel like playing Skyrim because I just acquired the Dawnguard expansion. I'm looking forward to being a vampire lord.

"God asks for 10%. Servers ask for about 18%. Don't ask me what percent the government asks."

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! That's how I feel sometimes. Nay, that's how I feel often. I scream often when I'm driving. It's the only place I can easily excuse being that loud.

I am trying to write a poem for my lovely wife, but I must — as I call it — Brain Drain first. Brain Drain is the stretching of the mind and writing muscles. I devised this phrase when I taught Creative Writing as a small summer class. One of my students admitted that, though he disliked the exercise, it did help him write. So, now, I attempt the same exercise.

I've feel like I've lost my mind a bit. I should probably read more and digital less. I think I need to climb a tree or stub my toe. I need to bleed a little. Maybe get a splinter.

Voila! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both villain and victim by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. … …The only verdict is vengeance. … …This vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose. Therefore, it is my very good honor to meet you, and you may call me V.

Preface I was chatting today with a friend about baptism, and I got the same spiel about "dedication," "when they get older," and "choose for themselves."

Before explaining what baptism is, it is very important to note two things that it is not: Not John the Baptist’s Firstly, baptism into Jesus Christ—the baptism that most assume they are practicing—is very distinct from John the Baptist's baptism: And he said to them, 'Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?' And they said, 'No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.' And he said, 'Into what then were you baptized?' They said, 'Into John’s baptism.' And Paul said, 'John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, Jesus.' On hearing this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. (Acts 19:2-5) Baptism is not just a singular activity; there was the baptism of John and the baptism of Jesus, Jesus' being the superseding baptism. A man named Apollos illuminates this problem: Now a Jew named Apollos, a native of Alexandria, came...

I wish I could write without my hands. My brain just wants to go so much faster. Alas, I am not a cyborg yet, and I cannot connect a computer straight to my mind.

I didn't get very far with Werbel last time I wrote, but I did write! I've been reading more, and I get the solid impression that more reading inclines me toward more activity in general — including writing.

Blah. I don't feel like writing, but, as always, it's been too long since last I wrote. I almost left it at, "it's been too long," but I put a lot of energy in trying to dodge "That's what she said!" opportunities. I overuse that dumb phrase. You overuse that dumb phrase. We're dumb, but at least I hate it.

Always, the ultimate goal is to honor God. It is not my intention to be a condemning brother; God offers immense freedom to His children—the realm of words is included. It is my intention to draw ever closer to that which would honor Him. Therefore, I invite you into an examination of His Word below. God’s Name I must preface. Using God’s names in vain is not up for debate. You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain. (Exodus 20:7) Saying, “Oh my God!” when you are surprised is taking God’s name in vain. Saying, “Jesus Christ!” when you are frustrated is taking God’s name in vain. Saying, “Thank God!” when something positive yet trivial happens is risky business, but I can only recommend you reflect soberly about your use of the phrase. Summarily, “you shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.” Curses He loved to curse; let curses come upon him! He did not delight in bl...

I just found this post. I had forgotten to publish it. Um, so, yeah: here ya go. Well, hello. I still don't have a full time job. I've been trying seriously. I recently had a 3-hour interview at Accenture. Ultimately, I was told that, though I interviewed well and did well on the aptitude test, they had filled their needed positions.

I really don't feel like writing. I really don't feel like doing much of anything. That's why I trimmed my beard, went grocery shopping, and cleaned the kitchen. I still need a job. Oh, jobs. Werbel's been lagging. My momentum's been lagging. I'm trying to keep in motion. Baby steps.

I am creating a term:  Inverse Prooftexting . More or less, it's  the pursuit of building a scriptural argument based on the  lack  of a specific verse . This maneuver is often used in conjunction with a handful of moderately similar verses that don't properly address the topic. One example can be found at  this site .

Well, I just cleaned up my blog. It didn't have nearly as much misery as I feared, but those entries still needed to go. Now, all that I have left is pleasant rambling with a healthy dash of arrogance. I think it's time to eat again. I always want to eat, but my tummy recommends against it. There are so many tasty things so close — so close and so far.

I wanted to do a book report of the book The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman, but, partially, I wanted to let it simmer a bit longer and, partially, I'm feeling too lazy to think that hard. I don't know if you've been keeping up with any of my posts. Most of them have been self-pitying drivel. Read the post two before this one! That's where I wrote about God's grace and my dramatic turnaround.

I don't think it exists. I think it's any combination of fear, laziness, fatigue, lack of focus, distraction, or some other thing. Nevertheless, I'm trying to continue Werbel's story, and the words aren't flowing as smoothly as usual. It's always work — choosing and thinking and focusing — but now it has a flavor of temporarily insurmountable. My guess is that I haven't been exercising much — brain or otherwise.

I often hear the phrase "Only you…" usually when referring to an activity that ranges from negligibly rare to moderately rare.

While I'm at it, I have to reprimand some more nitwits.

Romans 16:7

Near the end of this past January, I started taking Fluoxetine (an equivalent of Prozac). Megan says it's like night and day. I call it "Dark Nathan" and "Nathan." Really truly, that is how it seems. I used to hate — I mean HATE — so much: myself, others, situations, life, trials, and the list goes on. Now, I like people so much that I'm awkward. I'm hyperactive and a little bothersome just because I'm excited about people and life.

You (almost) never utilize. Originally, the distinction was thus: Use  meant to use something according to its designated function. When you hammered in a nail with a hammer, you merely  used  the hammer.  Utilize  meant to use something unconventionally. If you employed the hammer to prop open a window for example, you, in that case,  utilized  the hammer.

A couple years ago, I applied for a position as a director of education. One of the application questions asked me to write a statement of faith. I thought it was worth sharing here:

I'm not interested in more self-pitying drivel, but that seems to be the only subject I have these days. Why so much self pity? I just want to keep starting new things and leaving them once they're old. Perhaps I'm searching for something. My assumption is that I'm searching for the unobtainable "perfect" story or some such nonsense, and this probably out of fear.