Sometimes, Whenever I Encounter Someone New, I Might Flip Through Their Last Few Tweets/posts To Catch

Sometimes, whenever I encounter someone new, I might flip through their last few tweets/posts to catch up on them. Just a few, you know; maybe their last hundred or so. Until I get a good idea of the person, or until I get bored :P

Last night I had the drive to update a few things around my blog and such, so I decided to be narcissistic and do the same thing for myself.

Normally when I do this for other people, it's people who post things regularly - at least once a day, usually more. I could go PAGES back and still be in the same month as I started. Not so with me, as I don't really post all too often. I was expecting that, but I wasn't expecting the magnitude of it:

I had barely started before the timestamps read August 27, half a year ago.

...maybe I should post more often.

What happens when I run out of social energy

what they say: "Hi, how are you?" what I hear: "HI HOW ARE YOU?? TALK TO ME RIGHT NOW" what it feels like: thousands of tiny needles poking my eardrums what they say: *distant chattering of others* what I hear: stnd*iat gchanteitr oxf st*heor what it feels like: turning the shower up too hot what they say: "Why won't you talk to me?" what they mean: "Are you okay?" what I hear: "Wow you are so rude for ignoring me!" what it feels like: getting punched in the gut what I say: "Can you leave me alone for a while?" what I mean: "Just for an hour tops, I'll probably feel better then, no hard feelings but I can't social right now" what they hear: "I hate you and I never want to see you or hear you again! Go wither away for the rest of your pathetic life!" what they say: "Wow you really are just rude! What did I ever do to you?" what I feel: shame what I tell myself: "Look what you did now, you jerk! Go hide in your room for eternity, you can't even be a good friend to anyone."

I’m only now realizing how much my travel bug was influenced by my parents.

I did a good amount of moving as a kid. About every four years, we would move across the state for some reason or another, usually of my dad’s necessity. I didn’t mind too much; I preferred to stay in my room, and as long as said room had a Gamecube in it, I’d be okay.

We never knew where we were moving to until maybe a month or two before the fact. Even when we did move, we weren’t sure how long we would stay. The last few months were very stressful, as we had no idea what to do or where to go - that is, until God revealed where we’d be going.

One of the options we would kick around in these times was the idea of living in an RV. We could just drive around the country wherever, stay for a week or two, then drive somewhere else. This was always our favorite idea! Even though what we ended up doing was more stable in the long run, on some level I was always disappointed that we never did this. Just traveling around and meeting people and seeing things sounds like so much fun!

In fact, that thought has come with me to my college life: After I get a degree, I can’t imagine myself staying in any one place. I’d love the freedom to travel around and visit my internet friends and my high school friends (these groups are strangely overlapping recently). I’d love to see new places and try new things. I’d love to journey out far away from “home,” sleep somewhere new, and do it all over again in the morning. Maybe not in a RV, but the idea still applies.

Right now I can’t imagine myself staying in one place for very long without going crazy. Maybe that’ll change one day. But right now I’m exploring ways to keep the traveling option open.

It’s just too bad there’s not more jobs that can accommodate such a lifestyle. Maybe something Internet-based?

friends: *discussing music*

me: I've never heard of half this stuff, so I shouldn't say anything... besides, they probably aren't interested in what I listen to anyway

friends: So what kind of music do you like?

me: I'M GLAD YOU ASKED *produces phone and auxiliary cord from pocket*

The simultaneous "yes"

I didn't participate in a lot of events at my gifted school, mostly because they involved being "social," or "leaving" my room. I remember the dances were the most fun to stay back in the dorms for, because everyone was gone and that meant WAY better internet.

There was, however, one event I always loved to participate in: the Gold Rush, known one year as the Gem Hunt. It was organized annually (or occasionally semi-annually) by a student life advisor named Jim. He was an outdoors-y kind of person, and this was his attempt at getting us students unfused from our keyboards and into the sunshine.

He went out and hid colored rocks around the campus for the students to find. These could be traded for fancy prizes like snacks and stuff. There were a few bigger rocks that were worth a lot more, but they were much more deviously hidden; I remember one up in the nook of a tree, hidden by the leaves. But the best prize was the giant rock, which was always the central focus of the hunt - whoever found it would be granted anything - within reason, of course, which usually meant either worth ~$15, or some sort of service like "a private fire in the back for me and my significant other." In sum, it was kind of like a high-stakes Easter egg hunt.

Our campus was located on top of a college campus, and there were four major routes: two paths from each dorm to the school building, a path between the two dorms, and a path out by the lake. Each time the hunt was on, I went up and down those about ten times each looking for the rocks. Of course, I was always most interested in the big rock, because I could feasibly get a game with it.

The year of the gem hunt (the last one before I went to college), I had made my routes up and down the dorm paths, but hadn't gone out to the lake yet, so I invited one of my closest friends, Eric, to come with me. We agreed that if we found it, we'd split the prize.

The lake path is the longest by far - about half a mile. It's popular with the college students as an exercise path, both for the length and the scenic route. We started at one end and combed the whole path, finding bunches of little rocks that most others had missed. We even found some in pieces of trash, like old chip bags. But there were no large rocks, and the number of small rocks seemed to be fewer towards the end of the path. Moreover, we didn't find the largest rock.

So I convinced Eric to look with me another couple of times. All we found was more trash. I was certain it was somewhere near the lake, as I had already scoured the other paths without success. Finally, after maybe the fifth pass (without finding any more rocks), I conceded and we went back. To give an idea of the time, we started at 3PM and didn't go back until 6.

After eating dinner (and convincing ourselves someone else found it), we went to talk to Jim. I turned in my haul for some snacks and casually mentioned the large rock.

"Yeah, no one found it this time," he said. "I'm pretty proud of where I hid it." "Really?" Eric chimed in. "Can you tell us?" "It's late enough that no one's going to find it, so I suppose... Do you guys remember seeing a crushed styrofoam cup?"

What followed could have come straight out of a movie. Eric and I both turned to each other with shocked realization, then turned back and, with perfect timing, deadpanned:

"Yes."

Because out of all the litter lining the lake, there was only one small styrofoam cup, located near the beginning of the path at the lake's edge. And we had both ruled it out, because the large rock definitely couldn't fit. How could that possibly have worked out?

"There's a small gold rock in there," he explained. "I tied some fishing line to it. On the other end is a plastic bag with the big rock in it. I dropped that into the lake itself. So when someone found the small rock, they would find the large rock."

We all got a good laugh out of it. Although I was mostly laughing at the mind-reading Eric and I did. Secretly, I was screaming at Jim.

Working on more levels for my mappack! This is a good start to 2015.