Neglect Heals All Wounds

You know that feeling you get where you're absolutely sick to your stomach when you think of someone? Just the image of their face in your mind makes you want to throw up.

But the problem is ... it's nothing they did. It's what you did to them. It's how you mistreated them when you thought they would be there forever. And now they're gone. And you loathe them, but in reality, you hate yourself but they act as a placeholder, the manifestation of your undeniable and relentless guilt. It's easier to hate someone you don't have to see everyday than it is to hate the person you see in the mirror.

Time for my winter anthem.

 Well, it's starting to get cold outside and the days are growing shorter. The world is at a loss for colour. I guess it's about time I pretend to be socially awkward and use the Internet to comfort myself. Hang in there with me. My almost-impossibly positive view of the world will be back soon. My life is fantastic. I just want to feel passionate for a moment.

I'm a man of extremes. If you know me, it's easy to see. The way I workout. The things I eat and drink. The music I listen to. Hell, the way walk upstairs could be construed as extreme. So, it's no surprise that my interpersonal fights are crazy and my reconciliations are just as ridiculous.

I live for passion. Not just romantic, either. I need it in many different realms. I've even contemplated asking my girlfriend to pick a fight with me about something so I could say I'm sorry in beautiful ways. I need those ups and downs. Call it me being a sociopath. Blame it on my past. It's what I thrive on.

But there are certain situations in which extremes don't work, and I've found myself in one. Everything we do is a lesson, but much like school, you may not learn what you were supposed to until the final exam is over.

Right now, I'm taking the test and I don't know the answer. In fact, the way I deal with it is to turn the paper over, leave it blank and act as if though it never existed. 

However, I've learned something along the way.

We need to tell the people we Love that we Love them. It's so simple. So easy and we overlook it. It's so overlooked that people may respond in an awkward manner. Don't let it be awkward. You care about someone deeply. You have their back. You're hurt if they're hurt. You Love them.

I Love you.

You never know when that simple phrase will hit a person. Or when that phrase will miss a person. There's a friend out there right now that I care for deeply, but I can't say I Love them. I can't. I can't bear the shame for how I've treated them. My actions have reflected something other than Love. My actions were a lie. They were a mistake.

Would I take it back? No. Because it's caused me to learn. 

While I'll more than likely fail this exam, I've learned for next time. I've reached out to a few people already. People I Love. People who should hear it. Sometimes it's hard to separate Love from romance, but the two can be mutually exclusive.

Because you're no longer here with me, I have to say that I Love you. My actions didn't reflect Love, but my intentions did. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to ignore you. I never meant to have you leave my life. My apologies for my extreme behavior. It's just who I am and I'm working on it. 

Nothing would be better than speaking these words to someone you lost. Maybe after a few drinks so you can really let your emotions loose. So you can say what you truly want without shame. Face-to-face. Not behind a cell phone or a laptop. Not in a letter. Through true-to-life words. Spoken on your bedroom floor behind closed doors.

Words that can bring a tear of both pain and happiness at the same time.  

Go out and tell someone you Love them. For all those who lost their chance. 

I Love you, friend. 

 <3

Nobody Gives You a Chance; You've Got to Take Them

At the end of May 2013, I had no idea what my life would come to be. For the first time in my life, I did not have a concrete plan.
I graduated. I had a temporary part-time position lined up at the end of summer, but that was about it. That job was in Columbus and my Bowling Green lease was up at the end of May, so I had two options: head home to Fostoria and possibly ditch my chances of getting out or blindly go south to Columbus and pray for the best.

I chose the latter.

June 1, I packed my car with the few things that I needed. I had taken to Craigslist to find a roommate and I found three suitable ones. My whole Craigslist experience will wait for another blog; just know that some of the options were terrifying.

On my way down. On my own.

At this time, I had nothing but emotional support. Honestly, all I realistically need is 99 percent emotional help, but that 1 percent of material safety helps me a lot. I went to the first two apartments and they were awful and far out of my price range and away from where I would be working temporarily.

The final apartment was leased by a Godsend named Maggie. The circumstances were perfect and I took the plunge. I was ready to sign, but they wanted to make sure I wasn't a complete sociopath; rightfully so.

I slept on the floor of a friend's house that night. Terrified. What was my life to become? I recall shaking from nervousness. I had every cent counted up in my head that I had to my name. I knew I had to get a job immediately. I couldn't wait around.

I applied for a cashier position at Kroger at 9 p.m. and was offered the job 12 hours later. I was then alerted that I could move into the apartment soon. I'll forever be jaded because, in my first two nights in a big city, I found a job and an apartment. (My time at Kroger, a service job, will be a blog for a later date as well.)

However, I had to go through the orientation process at the new-found job and I had to get settled into the apartment. I layed there, on the floor, scared again. I needed to do something productive and we lacked Internet, so I went for a run.

Hear what drove me.

I plugged into Bring Me The Horizon's new album and just ran. And ran. It was 90+ degrees and I was in all black, but I just kept running. In my head, I was panicking. Where am I going to end up? I have nothing planned. I'm so scared and I know no one down here. In four months, will I be screwed? My unknown running path reflective of my life.

I found myself back home and created a plan. A list. On it were five goals. Get a full-time job. Save $10k. Read a book. Find a Columbus best friend. Get down to 160 lbs.

Well, I've completed 4/5 of those goals already, and let's just say I'm still reading the book.

I was offered full-time at the same job I interned with and worked with over summer. I am eternally grateful for the opportunity and I am sure that I will flourish, personally and professionally. (A blog about job openness is sure to follow at some point.)

What I'll miss the most from the old place.

After some personal events, I decided to move in with my wonderful girlfriend, Sarah, in a two bedroom place on the other side of Columbus.

But before I moved out of my first Columbus apartment, I went for one final run, with BMTH's Sempiternal in my ears once again.

My mind was calm. I knew what I was doing. There was a plan - a great one! I'm owning life. I took a chance and it paid off. Three-four months earlier,  I was shaking with fear and anxiety, but now, I was calm. Striding along the exact path I ran previously when I had more doubts than prayers.

Thank you to everyone who has taken a chance on me. I know I'm worth it and I'm so thankful you thought I was as well.

New Myspace Pt. 1: Colorful, Creative ... Confusing

If you know me personally, you would know that I am a sucker for nostalgia. And what better archive of old memories and melodies than MySpace?

Oh, the days of organizing your Top 8 friends and hammering the "Add Friend" button for hours just to boost your band page's friend count. I could go on for days about how wonderful the old MySpace was and how much it taught me in regard to HTML and social media, but that's not what this is about.

It's not great. It's not bad ... just not great.

This is about the NEW MySpace and what it has to offer.

Mr. Justin Timberlake took over the site, sent out a beta version and recently released it to everyone for use. Within the first month of being open to the public, the old place for friends gained one million new users and it continues to grow - just not as fast as it should.

The new layout is unheard of. Instead of scrolling up and down, you scroll horizontally, which makes it disorienting for a new user at first. However, after a few gos at it, it starts to feel right.

MySpace was smart and kept their signature features: customizable profiles, Top 8s and profile songs. One complaint is that you cannot fully customize the HTML for your profile. Back in the day, web design was something we all had to learn to do. Some layouts were absolutely amazing, whether they were minimalistic or complex as Hell.

Simply beautiful.

My biggest complaint of all, the one thing that absolutely breaks my heart,  is the fact that they disposed of all of our old messages, blogs and comments. Some of that stuff was absolute gold for friendships and relationships to come. The memories seem to be forever buried in the meta-world of the Internet - unless MySpace finds a way to let users download the archive of their old stuff. At least they allow us to recover all of our old photos. I would have probably sued if I couldn't have gotten those back.

Anyways, after a few minutes of staring at the site, it's easy to see it is directed at bands, musicians and music Lovers alike. Everything has a song attached. Your photos. Your page. Your posts. There's even a Pandora-esque radio station module at the bottom of the page.

This is both cool and kind of a drag. It's a drag because it tells everyone what you've been listening to, which isn't as much embarrassing as it is annoying to see. I don't care that someone listened to Secret Well Kept by Bright Light Parade on repeat for three hours! (Guilty...: https://myspace.com/brightlightparade/music/songs)

It's cool because you can listen to a band's entire list of songs without paying attention to it. The ad disruption is very minimal and the actual player is pretty well-calibrated. You can discover new bands that you will grow to Love and listen to them all day.

In the good ole days, MySpace was a haven for new music and new bands. The MySpace-band era has since passed, but the archive is still out there, thank God. I Love all the female-front pop/punk bands and gritty deathcore bands that no one cares about. Some of that stuff is absolutely ingenious.

My hopes are high that this new layout and reinvention of MySpace will result in the re-occurrence of the "dream." I want to see some bands who are hungry. Bands who want to play, promote and get signed to a label just so they can play and dance in front of new people. That's what it's about and that's what MySpace allocated in the mid-2000s.

I did want to hit on the mobile app for a second. If it were up to me, I would likely just use the app instead of logging onto a computer if I was trying to be conversational with people. It runs smoother and is a lot faster than the desktop version. MySpace started going downhill once everything started getting bogged down and slow. They tried to make it too flashy and it pissed off a lot of peoples' CPUs.

I truly hope they cut back on the "connecting" aspect of the site. Just because I think someone's picture looks cool doesn't mean I need to "connect" to it and broadcast it to my 1,000 friends. Maybe taking this off would speed everything up just a tad bit.

Admit it. You got excited to see this once again.

Maybe I'm just a fool who is stuck in the past ... the amazing past ... full of custom-made HTML codes, scene hair and garage bands. A past enriched in musical dreams, young Love and angst...

Look at me go. Daydreaming again.

If you haven't already, log into your old MySpace. If you forget your log in stuff, it's easy to recover. Even if you don't keep up with it, you owe it to your past self to check it out and visit who you once were.

Who knows, maybe you'll Love it again!

Anything beats Facebook.

Oh, and don't forget to add me on MySpace: www.myspace.com/st3washere

Tipping: Bad for Cows, Good for ... Just About Everyone

When I go out to eat, or I'm at a bar, or I take a cab ride, I always remember to tip.

However, how much should I tip at these places? Should I tip on every drink I purchase? What if the cabbie almost drove me into oblivion at 93 mph? If I'm tipping a terrible waiter out of sympathy, shouldn't I tip the charismatic cashier/bagger duo who made my trip to Kroger something to remember?

These are all questions that circulate my mind before and after I go out.

Recently, Drew Brees ran into this sort of issue as well when he tipped $3 on a takeout meal. People ripped on him for being a greedy bastard, but I feel he would have been justified in not tipping at all. Think about it: how often do you tip someone who hands you your take out food? Who does that money even go to? The chefs prepared it and bagged it ... this person was simply handing it over. In my honest opinion, they deserved no tip in this transaction.

But then, I start to think about the people we don't tip for doing a phenomenal job. Think about the mail carriers who wander the streets no matter the temperature or condition just to get you your bills. Think about the baggers at grocery stores who not only bag your stuff, but also clean the bathrooms, carry in loads of carts and deal with any mess in the store.

The list of tip-worthy occupations could go on forever. There are people out there whose jobs go unnoticed and unappreciated. We just sort of expect it to happen and for them to do it with a smile on their face.

(A great list for rules and whatnot can be found here: http://www.getrichslowly.org/blog/2006/10/12/basic-tips-on-tipping-how-much-and-to-whom/)

If you're ever at home, ask the mail carrier if they want a drink of something opened, as to assure you're not poisoning them. Or, if you ever feel inclined, tip the cashier who sold you the $250 winning lottery ticket. It will make there day.

Now, back to people whose income is supplemented by tips; the people making under minimum wage.

Whenever I go out (the people always shout) to eat, I tell myself I will tip at least $2.50 no matter the final price. If it cost $1, they're getting $2.50. If the bill is higher, I keep a rule of thumb to make it at least 17.5%.

If you've got a good paying job and you're contemplating on a $4 or $5 tip, shame on you. Take that extra dollar out and give it to someone who needs it more than you. The amount they appreciate it will be greater than how much you miss it.

Probably a lot more going on in his life than just waiting tables.

On one occasion, I was out with a group of friends at a Mexican restaurant and the waiter was having a devil of a time. He dropped a water. Forgot a side. Didn't refill the free chips. You could tell on his face that he was roughing it that day. My friends banded together and decided to boycott tipping this dude. They couldn't empathize with his struggle.

Luckily, I had a friend sitting next to me who thought the same way as I, and we decided to pool our money to cover the table's tip and then an extra $5 or so. We wrote a note that said: We all have off days. Keep your head up." I hope that message found him well.

When it comes to bars, I never know how to tip. If I'm getting a drink that requires no preparation, I will not tip. If I get two, I will throw in a $1. If it's a rough drink, I'll throw $2 down. After all, these people are gonna have to deal with drunken fools all night.

However, I have noticed bartenders who will charge people, who they think are drunk, an extra dollar and take it as a tip. This has happened to me when I was sober. Needless to say, I caught it, called her out and decided not to tip because of the discrepancy.

Also, don't forget to tip at least $1 at a buffet. I know these waiters/waitresses are rather low maintenance in terms of waiting on your table, but they are still there and they remove your plates every time you go up and refill your drink. It doesn't happen by magic. Many times, these waiters aren't even expecting a tip, so go ahead and brighten their day.

I wanted to end this self-righteous rant with a story I was told by my girlfriend's brother. His wife was working at a Chinese buffet in middle-America. Due to circumstances with her employer, she was only making tips. There was no sort of consistent income. The only thing she got was a place to sleep in return.

During a 12-hour shift, she received 50 cents.

Enough unsympathetic human beings saw that her job was not worth throwing down a dollar for. Because of this, I will always tip buffets. I will always tip restaurants.

Who knows what that person is going through, but one things is for certain: they are their to serve you, so kick a little something back.

It's just the tip.

When Life Gives You Rotten Lemons

There is no better way to start the day than by having your car towed.

I went to run a few errands early this morning, you know, to be responsible and to get ahead of the crowd. I was determined to make this day mine by organizing funds, working out and taking my lovely girlfriend out to dinner.

However, I soon saw a bunch of cars being towed in downtown Columbus. I really didn't think too much of it except for "Man, wouldn't that suck to be that person?" All of a sudden, someone said to me "If you're parked over there, you better go move. It's street sweeping day."

I panicked. Look outside. Car was gone. So I ran outside.

Saw my poor little car being put on a truck. I asked the driver what the next step was. He was rather rude to me and said "There ain't nothing you can do now, buddy. If you gimme $20 I'll drive you back to the lot. You got 30 seconds."

He gave me roughly four before taking off with my car.

After talking to other drivers, one drove me to the lot and I spent the $200 or so to get my car back. But then, as Murphy's Law would have it, my key would not turn. Over the years, my key has been stripped and it won't work anymore. My girlfriend is the only one with the other key. Thank God she was only 20 minutes away and she had my spare with her or else I'd still be out there.

Here's where my day turns brighter. While screaming my lungs out in rage against my car, I decided to ask another driver for help. Not only did he give a true attempt at fixing it, but he also let me charge my dead phone in his truck. I let him know that Sarah wasn't going to be there for an hour so he let me go on a run with him.

The journalist in me considered this a ride-along.

For an hour, we had an absolutely fantastic conversation about life, jobs and the stupid people that inhabit our society. He told me that, for being 22 years old, I'm actually doing very well for myself. He told me of stories when people would get violent with him over having their vehicles towed. He told me about his mess ups and other peoples' mishaps.

We picked up a Dodge Ram from a private lot for not paying for parking and he gave me a ride back.

This conversation was enlightening. It gave my day hope of not being ruined. I learned today. I listened to a dude who really just wanted to be listened to.

There is a beauty through struggle, but you've got to find it. It's not always so clear. Sure, I could have went crazy on the tow drivers, but what would that have gotten me? Absolutely nothing. If anything, it would have hindered the process of moving on with my life.

Yeah, I'm out $193 for the day, but worse things could have happened. Sarah having that key saved me about $200 on getting a new key and a new ignition switch, so everything washes out and I'm not truly out too much.

When life gives you a rotten lemon, take it to the grocery store and talk produce with the employees. Who knows, maybe you'll make someone's day. Maybe you will waste your time.

One thing is for sure, you'll learn something about lemons, but even more about humans.




Note: Alan from the towing agency, you're the man. Thanks for making this hardship into something of value. I learned today and I hope you had a better day because of the ride along. Also, I'm still going to take her out tonight! Thanks again.

A Long Walk Home

It takes a number of lonely walks home to make you feel like you need to get away. To get away from everyone. The life that you felt was destined for you.

But I've walked down the same streets, alone, far too many times.

To think, I was going to stick around for this sorry lifestyle. I'm done. I'm ready to move on. This is it. I thought I was meant to stay around these people, this culture, for another year of my life. Honestly, I'm ready for the mundane life. The 401k. The working till death. The coming home to no one.

I want that.

I'm sick of counting on people who would never reciprocate the same for me.

My final stand. My final weekend as a student at the university that I have adored for four years. I praised this place and convinced dozens of people to follow suit. I counted the cracks in the sidewalks. And when I got tired of that, I watched the stars as I walked by alone.

For the last God damn time.

I Loved this place. It was my holy land. It was everything I needed to become a better, more full person. I met the right people throughout these years, but their meaning has since faded and I've become what I needed to.

An independent person. I have my own insights and my own abilities. I don't need anyone else. 

As humans, we congregate to share resources. Evolutionarily, we stuck together to get what we needed to survive. However, I feel that I am ready to do this all on my own.

I don't need the people I thought I did. I can make my own money. I can motivate myself. I can be who I want to be and surround myself with the people who fit my niche. 

I'm not like normal people. I adore chaos, yet I like sticking to a sort of plan. That's too much for some, but I don't care. It's who I am. Mock me as you will, I will not change. It's what I've become and I've grown accustomed to it. I've succeeded with such methods.

It's who I will be Forever.

As I sit in my room, I hear the echoes of stupidity. The voices of the people who have enraged me and helped me to come to the conclusions that I've jumped to.

They sound so pathetic. So weak. So dependent on an outlet of numbness. I'm done with them. I'm sick of the monotony.

I can be happy without them.

With that being said, I'm not afraid to move on. In fact, I'm ecstatic to be gone. I'm stoked. I'm elated.

There are jobs in the Carolinas that I was hesitant about, yet they were my dream jobs. What was I holding back for? For these people?

These people couldn't even help me take advantage of my final weekend as a student. They couldn't adhere to a simple idea that I had. It wasn't that hard.

I brought you all together. I wanted to have a good time with the people I Love. Instead, I was ignored and made fun of by the people I Love.

That's not what I deserve.

I'm ready for the life that is ahead of me. 12 hours away, my life can begin. Hundreds of miles away, I can start anew. That idea...fills my head with happiness.

I'm sick of this. I'm sick of either feeling alone or stagnate.

Call this a stream of conscience. Call it whatever you want. I don't care.

These are my words. My thoughts. If you're reading them, you obviously give a damn. If you're not, well you're not surprising me.

There's very few people I can count on. And even less I would call on in an emergency. Yet, there's a laundry list of people I would take a bullet for.

Take my silence as a token. A token of my appreciation for the past years. You've been great to me. However, it's time for me to see what the world has to offer. I thought sticking around was what I needed, but tonight taught me otherwise.

Three of them. Three of the best I knew turned their backs on me and I wandered alone.

Now I'll turn my back and find a new home.

The Pragmatic's Guide to Laziness

My mind thrives on what I get done in 24 hours.

Functionality and completing tasks is what gives me self-worth, whether that involves working out, writing music, school work, reading or even just cleaning the house.

I like to get stuff done. I enjoy schedules and sticking to them. Deviating from them doesn't hurt me, but it does make me a tad bit uncomfortable and the completion of my goals seems to go unrewarded.

An actual photo of me today, courtesy of Charlie Banks.

However, today, I did absolutely nothing. I watched basketball with my guy friends, cooked dinner and that's about it. I didn't even work out. But, you know what? In doing nothing, I did something for myself. I recovered. In a sense, by not doing anything, the time usually spent relaxing will be dedicated to being more productive tomorrow because I have to make up for it.

Today, by sitting on the couch and just talking, I cleared my mind and I recovered. You have to rest yourself if you expect to progress.

This is the parable of the two men in the forest. Both were hired to cut down giant trees for a company, and whoever did it first got paid more. One worker cut all through the night and wore him, and his saw, completely down, while the other stopped every so often to rest and sharpen his saw. In doing so, he completed the task more effectively and was rewarded handsomely.

This works on a macro and micro scale. Suppose you're running and you just completed one mile. You may feel like you can't go on any longer. So, you stop running and you leave the gym. But you're not really done.

Get back on the track, walk a lap and then run. You'll find that you had some more left inside of you. There's still energy stored inside of you and you can do better. This is the general principle of interval training. Stop and go.

Even after this, your legs may be tired, but the rest of your body may have some energy stored up. Lift some. Don't settle for what you're comfortable with. Try something new and vary your lifestyle.

But I digress. Having done nothing today has allowed me to sharpen my own personal saw and schedule what I'm going to do tomorrow and for the next week.

You owe it to yourself to have a day where you do absolutely nothing, as long as you use that nothingness as motivation to do more later. I don't recommend doing this often, perhaps once every three weeks will suffice, but the body needs a total break.

Even as you're sitting on the couch, catching up on your shows or watching a poisonous amount of Netflix, you can do some of the little things you normally think to do until it's too late. Text old friends and let them know you still care they're alive. Cut your nails. Stretch. 

For now, I will head to bed with a clear mind and a relaxed body.

Who am I kidding; I'll probably stretch and do some push ups, but you get the point!

 If you're going to relax today, be ready to push yourself tomorrow.

Album Review: The Millionaires "Tonight"

"Tonight" is the first album released by scene queens The Millionaires. These gals are no strangers to the music scene, seeing as they have been around since 2007. However, this is their first official release and, I believe, they waited just long enough. I wouldn't say that their has "matured," but it has been structured. The Millionaires have created an image and that picture shines through wonderfully with their rookie album.

Pros:
When you first turn on the record, you initially see what these girls are all about. They're shallow, outrageous, covered in glitter and ready to party. Honestly, that's not an insult. This album had me closing my eyes and reliving some of my favorite memories at house parties and had me planning for crazy nights to come. The melodies are so catchy and their voices are like cotton candy to the ears (meaning it's probably bad for you, but damn it's so fantastic).

The Millionaires are equal parts Cascada, Ke$ha and Katy Perry. They have Cascada's melodic chorus, Ke$ha's raunchiness and Katy Perry's lyrical content and feel-good attitude. The chorus of "Get Away" demonstrates this and will be reigning in my head all day tomorrow. "One in a Million" is rather cliche, but still fantastic, especially with the use of their band name in the name. This song screamed "summer" to me. It just felt so wonderful. "I remember the day you left me..." sounds like it was said in a sincere fashion.

My favorite song out of them all is, without a doubt, "Kitty Go Hello." With it's beautifully catchy hook, subtle hints, innuendos and provocative cuteness, I cannot turn it off. I want to hear this in a club full of college kids just having a great time. When I first heard it, I just wanted to jump around smile. The verses are sort of rapped, but done in a way that is still melodic. This song is lusty and Loveable. A hit for sure.



Lines I Liked:
"I'm kinda sweet and fake, like Splenda ... Raw, raw, raw, like sushi." -Boss Bitch
"What we got is raw. Babe, you know I like it rare." -Kitty Go Hello
"Give me that Andrea. 4 Loko everyday. Give me that UV. Cheap alcohol, please. Straight A student, honor roll. Sneaking vodka in detention." -Drinks On Me
"I see you have the same friends. Same job where you just blend in." -One In A Million
"You're meant for me, we belong together. Just wait and see, it's you and me forever." -Jack



Cons:
If the Millionaires want to rap, they should do it on mixtapes, not their actual albums. I get a wanna-be-white-Nicki-Minaj feel when they start rhyming. The delivery is too spoken and not done with enough flow. They sound a bit too cocky for my taste. They rapped too much about money. They sound wonderful when singing...why challenge that?

I would have also liked to see at least one more theme on the album. I dig that they're about partying, but that's all there really was. One more breakup song would have been fun. Possibly one about getting revenge by torching an ex's house. Something the girls can get behind and blast when they're pissed. I also found that, while it was one of my favorite songs on the album, "K Thx Bye" sounded just like "Endless Summer" by Cascada. Doesn't mean it was bad, which it wasn't, but it seemed very similar.

My least favorite song had to be "Boss Bitch." It was a bit too trashy and the hook was too repetitive. I don't like white girls saying "yo" for some reason. It just seems unauthentic. This song was superficial in a bad way. However, I will say their one liners were rather clever, but not even this or the backup vocals on the hook could redeem it. I'm sorry girls, but you could have done better with this one!


Lines I Hated:
"We counted these stacks like 1,2,3. My paper be overflowing." -Drinks On Me
"So I realized I need it super-sized. Honey, you have a small dick, FYI." -K Thx Bye
"If he got a table, every girl knows what that means. Booze, money, drugs and of course he got that big D." -Put It In the Air
 "Hey dirty boy, you're looking hot, hot, hot. Show me your money." "Fuck Me" Eyes

Production: 
Khris Lorenz deserves a medal. The effects and 404s made me feel like I was raving. The bass wasn't too obnoxious, but it got the feet moving. The sound was so full and the girls' voices were so clear. It's like they were talking right in your ear, and as a heterosexual male, that made my knees go weak just a bit.

The production on "21" was exceptional. They took a song that could have been rather basic, cut it up, added to it and made it a "forever young" anthem. The mix was phenomenal. My only harsh critique is that I would have liked to see more real instruments thrown in. "Jack" was the only song I noticed that had a prominent guitar part. However, the "fake" sound matches the girls' style, and if that's what the producers were going for, they did a damn good job.


The Future:
These girls are truly the horrible role models girl need nowadays. This is a weekend album, meaning you won't listen to this expecting to have an existential revelation. You turn it on to have a good time! Because of this, I feel it will succeed. I hope to hear these songs on the mainstream radio. It has the mainstream sound, but the Millionaires have a "bad girl" aesthetic. They're carefree, happy and drunk. They're that girl getting down on the floor at the party; she's not gonna talk your ear off, but she'll give you something else to remember. If they stick to pop music, they will own the music scene. If they choose the path, the outcome may not be so wonderful. However, their hooks and club beats give them a great chance to make it big this time around.


On a scale of 1-10, 1 being don't listen, 5 being just YouTube it and 10 being buy this right now, I would give this album an 8.8.

The Insecurity Blanket

It's 2 a.m. and your heartbeat begins to accelerate. The world seems like it is pushing down on your shoulders. Your eyes are bloodshot and you're ready to scream.

You're nervous. You're insecure. You're scared.

Indifference about the future exists.

What am I doing with my life? Who am I supposed to marry? Is my significant other cheating on me? Will I ever have enough money to be comfortable?

These questions plague us. They rest in the back of our minds and ream their heads at times in which we can't do anything about them. However, we panic and let them ruin our night and, temporarily, our lives.

Don't let insecurity consume you. Don't let thoughts, ideas and uncertainty get the best of you.

Instead, exhibit patience and wait until you can actually do something about the issues at hand. Sleep on it. Pray. Do whatever it is that you do to get you out of your mind temporarily until you can actually fix the problems.

The main cure to insecurity I have seen is communication.

Personally, I'm quite insecure, regardless of my confidence in social situations and my ever-so-alluring swag. I let my thoughts get the best of me, but I've learned that when I discuss my issues, they are resolved or I create a plan of attack to fix them.

Grade paranoia is one of my biggest downfalls. I let my grades control me and ruin my days.

I'm so stupid. I'll never be remembered. I'll never make anything of myself. I'll be poor forever.

I've learned to converse with professors and let them know that I am a serious student. This generally buys me a grade up in the class. I've done this since my senior year in high school and it has yet to fail me.

Another issue that resides internally is the insecurity of faithfulness: is my significant other cheating on me? Such a ridiculous thought, especially if you are giving the relationship your best shot and you both are very happy with each other. However, circumstances and instances in my past freak me out and I have quite the time trusting.

I lay in my bed and play out horrific scenarios in my head that make my blood pressure rise. I begin to plot out revenge for something that hasn't even happened. I start to shake because I fear I'll be left alone.

Yep, the kid who sometimes walks around with vampire fangs, 
teased hair, snake bites, studded belts and eyeliner gets a little
nervous about what people think of him and his future.

,

I'm pathetic. There's someone out there that can make her feel more comfortable and wanted than I.

In this case, security is also achieved through communication. I talk to my girlfriend and let her know my feelings. She reassures me and, even though I'm not 100 percent comfortable at the time, I can rest a little better at night.

There's no point in worrying about things you cannot control at the moment. Freaking out about the future in the middle of the night won't resolve anything. Wait until the morning, after you have slept, to create a plan of attack.

You're better than a panic attack. You have so much more to offer the world.

Don't let insecurity weigh you down, because chances are, since you are already aware of what needs to be done, you will get it done! You know what you want to achieve, or what you don't want to become, so you will work toward an optimal future.

Sometimes I wish I could heed my own advice. I get wrapped up in my physical appearance and weight that I shut out everyone, including myself. There's a voice inside of me that hates what I am and yells at the mirror.

Look at how fat you are. No one could ever find you attractive. Workout now or you won't earn the right to eat tonight. 

However,  I know that I can't be completely physically fit in one night and that I have come along way since I started, so I shouldn't worry.

Positively reinforce yourself. If you can't, then let your best friends know your insecurities. Trust me, letting someone in will be scary at first, but when they do their best to understand and they say the right things and the right times, you will be happy you did.

Communication and patience. Those are the keys to a lower stress level. 

It's like the night before the first day of school: restless legs, tossing and turning, thoughts and nervousness about the day to come. Because it's not yet the first day of school, don't worry about it!  Don't stress over something you cannot control.

I'm strong. I can do this. I've always done it. I know who I want to be and I will become that. Just let me get a little sleep first and we'll slay this monster in the morning.

Attack the issue when you can and save yourself from insecurity.

Hold Hands, Not Grudges

If you're mad at someone, just let them know.

The idea of transparency can save time, frustration and even relationships. Why drag on a conflict if it is only waring you down? There's not point in suffering one more moment if a simple discussion can fix the issue.

Courtesy of Tumblr.com/knittingunicorn

Holding grudges is fun. You have control, or at least you think you do. You feel entitled and empowered because someone has wronged you, but feeling in charge will get you no where.

If the world was perfect, as soon as conflict would arise, the two or more parties would fix it immediately and go on living. Both would be wiser from the encounter and would know what actions to avoid for next time. However, we don't live in a perfect world.

We lived in a fundamentally flawed one.

What is the point in keeping silent and allowing anger to rise up inside of you? Does one think that the feeling of empowerment will last forever? Because it won't.

In all my experiences of being upset with someone, if I held on for too long, one of two things would happen: I would forget what I was fighting about and just have a negative feeling toward someone forever or I would realize that what I was angry about for so long was completely useless and I would feel ashamed.

I have felt that shame a lot. When I was younger, I was incredibly dramatic. Still am, but only when it won't really hurt anyone or any friendships. But as I've grown older, the idea of holding a grudge reflects a lack of maturity and appreciation of human kind.

We're all people. We all make mistakes, whether we know it or not. If your problem with someone is situational and not a chronic issue, address it with the person. Perhaps they didn't even know they messed up. They will continue living without a care and you will let the pressure burden you and the empowerment to enslave you.

If you heed my advice and choose to resolve the issue immediately, do so in a rational fashion. No one likes to feel attacked. That empowerment you felt is invisible and won't protect you from losing an argument, looking like a fool, or even worse, getting your jaw busted. Don't go Dr. Phil on someone, but just treat the matter in a way that you would want it to be treated if you were on the receiving end. The Golden Rule.

Keeping grudges will keep you alone in your head. Learn to forgive, not forget and live a stronger life. http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/lauren-xenos.html

If you come up to someone with a chip on your shoulder and an attitude of apologetic entitlement, you're going to look like dolt. Being patient, understanding and empathetic will get you far.

The next time someone angers you, don't go to Twitter. Don't go to other people. Address it calmly and immediately. Fix it and go one with life. Too many people fight for no logical reason.

Remaining hung up on trivial matters makes one look like a simpleton. You're better than that.

Let it go and live.

Outging: Extroversion 2.0

I generally fall under the classification of an extrovert, but today, I've only talked to two people in person and, for some reason, I felt ok with that.

I don't fear being trapped in my mind, it's just that the world is a better place when my ideas are let loose.

Just to be clear, extroversion should be defined as being energized by interacting with people and the feeling of depression or fading energy levels when alone.

Last night, I was under the club lights, my head was buzzing and I was in a giant mob of people. I Loved it, as I usually do, but after a while, I started getting disgruntled and decided to step out.

I found myself across the street, on a second-story balcony. Watching as the drunken college students roamed the streets and stumbled on the sidewalks, the contemplation of me finally maturing and taking a step out of the blacklights crept into my mind.

Am I actually getting too old for this? I'm only 22...

Eventually, I wandered through the crowds and made my way to a group of friends. This notion may be an overarching metaphor of what's going to happen with me in the next year. I'll rage, depression will kick in, cryptic thoughts will enter my mind and I'll then catch my second breath and go back to the party.

I Love the vibes I get from the weekend crowd, but lately the "drama" of it all has been ruining it for me. Drama, in this situation, should be defined as anything related to personal agendas, exes, he-said, she-said nonsense, people who over-analyze social situations (in a negative fashion) and physical confrontation. Honestly, I wouldn't hate the latter of those options because, at least then, the energy would still be there.

Yep. I'm freaking Tigger.

I'm growing tired of having to entertain. If that feeling is going to happen to me, I want it to be when I have a guitar in front of me. There are hidden expectations of a crazy time that are tied to me and I fear that I won't live up to them. Nothing is worse than having a houseful of people making me feel like I'm not doing enough to keep them happy.

I thrive on people. I thrive on energy. I thrive on positivity. Give me those three things and I can be anything anyone wants me to be. The life of the party. Crazy. Outgoing. Risk-taker. I just need positive attitudes!

 Part of me misses the simplicity of the partying lifestyle that came when it first started in my life. There were no expectations and the crazy situations just rolled right in. I wish I could do that again, but at times, I get so wrapped up in trying to make sure everyone else is having a great time that I shut myself off to the spontaneity of the surrounding world. Saying yes to strangers. Drinking just one more. Cutting a girl's hair and putting it in a drawer. These are all things that happened because I wasn't worried.

Sometimes, forgetting to smile and not get worried (insert Jimmy Eat World music video) gets me down. I'm down with that.

From here on out, I'm going back to extroversion-like ways. I'm going to wear my personality on my sleeves and ditch the dramatic kids in the dust when I go out. I'm going to take up any offer that comes my way on the weekends, even if it does present a sort of danger. I'm not ok with not talking to people.

My weekend life is about reaching out to others and going crazy with strangers, not worrying about who is dancing with who or where so-and-so went.

I'll worry about that stuff Sunday morning.

Love Where I Am; Love Where I've Been

I can honestly say that I was blessed to grow up in the generation that I did.

Besides all the wonderful, yet cliche, 90s kid stuff, I grew up with a dream. A dream that was fueled by music and a crowd in front of me. Not only that, but I was able to satisfy that dream, to an extent.

And let me tell you, I may not know the true meaning to life, but I know that feeling has something to do with it.

On nights when most kids were either at basketball practice or studying their time away, I was sitting in my room with my guitar, dreaming, praying to, one day, play my songs (or In Our Suffering's songs) in front of thousands of people.

I desired this not for the material reasons, but because I know that the songs I was writing alone, in my room with my unplugged guitar and a notebook, were coming from my heart and fingertips. These songs may not be Top 40 hits, but they would surely mean a lot to some kid going through the same stuff.

"You will remember this day."

Even now, I find myself fretting and picking with my guitar at my waist as I stand in guitar power stance in my kitchen. Seriously though, the way the kitchen light shines, it makes it look like a stage light and I Love it. I still get the same goosebumps that I did when I was 16, having practice with my brothers. Make fun of me, I don't care. That feeling is phenomenal and I only wish you too could feel it one day.

No feeling will ever compare to that of playing live and seeing people you have never met singing along to a song, not because it is incredibly good, but because they've see you play live so many times that they have started to enjoy your act.

I still have my dream, but it's not the same. I'm older now. Perhaps too old. I had my chance and now it is some other kids' chance to play.

I take issue with the fact that these kids have no one to look up to anymore. They have no more local heroes or venues. The dream is fading fast and that scares me.

We live in a day in age in which kids compete for likes instead of working together to get a local show together. Go ahead and go to your Myspace, log in and listen to some of the bands you were friends with back in the day. Basque in their perfect imperfectness. That's not what you get today.

I urge any kid who has a guitar, drum kit or a mic and a damn dream to band together and make it happen.  It's worth it.

It's worth the hassle of setting up a show. It's worth having a band member not show up to a concert and you having to fill in for drums. It's worth having your band and dream destroyed by an ex-girlfriend.

Honestly, I believe in a sense of karma and emotional equality in every action we do, but my years playing guitar, on stage, left me with a credit of happiness.

Despite it ending and my vision being shot down in flames, I can still close my eyes and see all my memories play out in front of me and get the same butterflies I had that day.

For that very reason, I am the luckiest kid in the world.

I lived out a part of my dream.

Pick Me Up and I'll Never Let You Down

I am the unread book and you're the reader trapped in the library.

Who am I to you? Am I a stranger or am I close friend? Have I ever done anything to change your life for the better or for the worst? If not, then let me.

There are so many individuals out there with distinct, unique stories. I want to tell mine to someone new; someone who may understand what I have been through and why I strive to be who I will be one day.

I'm nostalgic. I'm progressive. I learn from past failures. Even though I long for what I have, I know that I can never get comfortable anywhere because the idea of settling down for good scares me to pieces.

My life is an open book and I'm ready for any person to pick it up.

Tell me about yourself. That's all I want. I want to hear your story.

I've never been much of a reader, but I've always been a listener.

You know when you're reading your textbooks and you realize that you went through an entire paragraph and didn't retain one word? Now picture you telling the story of your life and someone picks up their phone and starts texting, or interjects without any empathy to you. This is how the book feels. Worthless. Like your story isn't worth this person's time.

"I should go to bed, but I'll stay up until whenever 
if you want to talk."

Trust me, if you talk to me, I will never let you collect dust. I'll never let your pages fade or weather.

There's something magical about having someone pay attention to your every word. Not just your words, but the inflections in your voice when you are really adamant about a topic; the change in tone that only the greatest authors can portray in writing.

If you're out there reading this and you have never gotten to know me, put a bookmark in this page and let me read into you a bit more.

I'm sure there's a masterpiece within you. 

There's Hope in Them There Bands

I'm putting a lot of faith in the reunion of Fall Out Boy.

When the band was at its peak, I never truly appreciated what they were doing for the music scene. I was far too obsessed with 80s hair metal at the time and it really closed my mind to anything new. However, this time around, my mind is an open notebook and it is ready to be filled.

This could become a revival. The music scene has become stale and repetitive, which isn't bad if it's Friday night and you're nine drinks deep, but when you're scanning the radio, songs about only living once and staying up until 3 a.m. don't quite speak to you.

Introduce a little change. Upset the established order, as the Joker would say. Bring bands to front of the airwaves from Sunday to Thursday, from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. and you will see a rise in identification with modern music.

["And when it rains, Will you always find an escape? Just running away, From all of the ones who love you, From everything."]

When Fall Out Boy started blowing up Fuse and MTV, I didn't understand the appeal, but now I see what they did. They gave a voice to the generation that felt misunderstood, screwed over or just bored. Their clever hooks and upbeat melodies brought optimism and the music videos gave a narrative that could told a real story and could be followed.

Now, I would like to state that I enjoy the music of today. There's a time and place for the songs that play constantly on the airwaves, though. Every day and anywhere is not proper for many of the acts. As a musician, I try to find appreciation in every style of music, and I have. Lil Wayne is clever. Skrillex is creative. Lady Gaga puts on one hell of a show.

"These words are all I have, so I'll write them."]

What's missing? Someone who embodies all of these at once.

While in high school, there were bands. Not boy bands. Not rap groups, but actual bands. Avenged Sevenfold, Paramore, A Day to Remember, Taking Back Sunday, My Chemical Romance, Green Day ... the list goes on and on, but one thing is for certain, these acts will stand the test of time. One may call them angsty, but I call them personal and I'm not saying that modern acts will be forgotten and aren't memorable, but they will certainly be labeled as "throwbacks" and obsolete very soon after their heavy rotation by weekend DJs is up.

The bands mentioned previously embody something much more. They're personal. They are situational and speak to an individual. Favorite songs by an artist aren't always the singles! They're the songs that you listen to when you can't sleep because you're thinking about someone or that song that hit you just right and came into your life at the perfect time. Those songs stick with you on a daily basis. Songs about only having tonight are fundamentally flawed because we have more than tonight. Any sober mind can see that.

Most of the time, bands aren't on major record labels and they can create a sound that is unique and experimental. Today's Top 40 songs can be sung by different artists and it won't mean anything different. The lyrical content of bands, like Fall Out Boy, is timeless because they can resonate with someone on any given day.

Most importantly , to me, these artists offer live shows that you want to attend while sober. One would want to embrace the sounds and personalities of the band, not just get lost in the lights.

["This band will stand the test of time."]

There's a chance. There's hope. The optimism for modern music to have meaning once again rides on the shoulders of those who also have a guitar strapped around them or drum sticks in their hands.

I'm so excited for the release of Fall Out Boy's "Save Rock n' Roll." I pray that it will do just that ... Save rock n' roll. Time to bring back long hair, lyrics in notebooks and songs that mean something.

It's time for a takeover, because the break is over and there is once again hope in the music industry.