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I have carefully examined the relationships of the pets in my house. I have two male cats, Charlie and Beauregard, and an old female lab named Bella. Essentially, Bella was here first, then we got Beauregard. They established a relationship of mutual trust and love. We then received Charlie as a kitten. Although, Beauregard hated him initially, he has now grown quite fond of him. They have a Brokeback Mountain love. Charlie is the eager Jake Gylenhaal and Bo is the hesitant Heath Ledger. They canoodle on our rocking chair, occasionally “cleaning eachother”, however, when Bella (Bo’s wife/my lab) comes back into the room, he jumps off the chair and plays it cool. Charlie stumbles after him, of course. Will Bo confess his love for Charlie, or will he conform to a heterosexual relationship with Bella? (Or will Bella just die first?) To be continued.

Sometimes I fixate on the absolute dumbest shit and then I get irrational anxiety. For example I am dreading this yearbook signing shin dig. Apparently there comes a time when writing “h.a.g.s and k.i.t” is no longer socially acceptable and I have to come up with like a billion meaningful, witty things about the times I’ve had with people that are not my close friends for the past four years. Like “hey dood good times in enrichment, or thanks for being my buffer friend in algebra, dont eva change.” No one wants to read that shit and I don’t want to write it. Also there are certain people that I cant bring myself to write things for because I don’t even know what I would say at this point because I am an awkward dunce of a human being, so I will probably be chicken shit and avoid everything like the plague.

Everything was alright when I didnt have a plan and I was just floating. Now I realize I have a plan and things are not going according to that plan.

fumblin with the clock

A lot of them are actually intelligent people who choose to act like idiots. Maybe that’s why they are stupid? I don’t know. Don’t call someone dumb, maybe they just suck at decision making. 

This is the first and will be the last detailed text post I will write about Montana.

Montana was great. At first, when people asked me how it was, I didn’t know what to say. It was more bittersweet than anything, but when someone asks you “So how was your vacation?,” it’s a little odd to say “bittersweet.” But now I realize that even the bad parts were good, because they were good for me to learn about. That, in turn, will help me “do good” for people who aren’t doing well. Word.

Through this mission trip, I have a new understanding of what I want, I gained a different perspective on myself, and I’ve sorted out why my life is the way it is. I am going to be a LaSallian Volunteer. I don’t know when, or where, or how, but I have to do it. You know all that stuff we learned in Peer Ministry about vocation? I KNOW this is part of my vocation. After Kairos 3, I told my dad that if I could, I would professionally love people (not like prostitution, as in real love) for the rest of my life. This is one of the ways I can do it. I have to do this. I have to. This is where I HAVE TO BE.

This is not me being all high-and-mighty, I-went-on-a-mission-trip-so-now-I’m-better-than-you-because-I-do-charitable-works-and-you-don’t. Nick Parisi’s goal is winning a Grammy, which would increase his personal happiness. This shit is my Grammy. It would make me happy. In that, I understand a chase for my own happiness, which is innately selfish. So I hope no one thinks I’m a snob because I want to do service work. I ain’t doin it to be righteous, I’m doin it because I wanna