I would be remiss if I said nothing about LOST. I watched this show from the very beginning, all the way through last night's finale. Wow, simply wow. It was breathtaking, the greatest epic I have ever seen. From the opening to the close, it never wavered from the standard of excellence it set in the pilot episode. I'm glad I could be a part of this spectacular work of art produced in our times, this cultural phenomenon that was worth all of its hype.
I understand not all are happy with the finale. It wasn't what they expected, what they wanted, it betrayed them, it didn't answer their questions. To them I say, how could you watch this show for six years, and expect anything of it, other than it to defy your expectations? This show would be utterly disappointing if all of a sudden, it did anything else than what it always has, shock its audience and challenge us all to think about what we just saw. It was LOST, true to its very character. It didn't spoon-feed us anything. It never has, and if it started now, I would have been severely disappointed.
If you, however, are one of the people who disagree and expected it answer your questions, expected it to go as plan, expected it to be as you expected, then I'm sorry, and it may be harsh, but you are not a true lostie. LOST trademark was defying expectations. It made no promises but to wow you, and perhaps leave you wondering. It held up its promise, and did not deny its fans their love of speculating and theorizing. True LOST fans, true losties, can fill in the blanks themselves, and know just how fantastic that is. Until next time, stay lost my friends, and good night.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Seriously?
I found out recently that one of my former friends openly admits he hates me. This shouldn't bother me since I long ago wrote him off as a friend, yet it does. When I cut him out, I simply stopped hanging out with him, or including him when I did things, but I didn't do anything to intentionally piss him off. I suppose there was something over Christmas. He normally had a few friends over New Years Eve, myself included most years, but of course I didn't want to go this year. With this completely out of my mind, I organized a get together with my friends the only day I could, New Years Eve (I organized this before he invited me to his annual New Years Eve thing). I even told one of our mutual friends who had been invited to both to go to the other shindig. Next thing I know, this former friend wants to egg my house that night, and now hates me enough to tell people about it. Like I said, I dropped his friendship a long time ago after beginning to realize he wasn't a very good person or friend, and I simply didn't like him anymore. Still, it really bugs me that he hates me. Sure I don't like him, but I wouldn't say I hate him, not even close. This shouldn't bug me, yet it does. I just don't know. Until next time, have fun, live life, and don't die. Good night folks.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
What have I learned?
One year of college down, let's see what I have learned this past year (in no particular order).
1) How to function on minimal sleep
2) How to function on no sleep
3) How to use chopsticks
4) How to enjoy drinking coffee
5) Do not expect Tom to fulfill his promises when Team USA beats Team Canada
6) Do not ask Tom to recite Bible verses
7) How to mix concrete
8) How to build a wall
9) How to speak French, sorta… Okay, I think I can say hello.
10) Kris makes awesome food (dinner and dessert)
11) How to do bass on hard for Rock Band
12) Do not challenge the Halo god, he will pwn you like a noob and destroy your childhood
13) Where the turtle pond is
14) On that note, how to get Heidi really mad at you (also, Bejeweled)
15) How to not get girls really mad at you in general (it’s a work in progress)
16) Tattoos on the inside of your arm really hurt
17) They can be really worth it
18) How to swing dance
19) How to flip people/swing stunts
20) How not to flip Joshua
21) How to keep a blog
22) How to procrastinate like a pro
23) How to get to the roof of the student union
24) Urban Spelunking/trespassing or breaking certain broadly interpreted anti-terrorism laws
25) How to adjust for ‘Ryan Time’ (add 15 minutes)
26) Jane Austin is better with zombies
27) Wizarding Independence Day is May 2. Prepare for it next year and celebrate it properly
28) Apparently, Zordon is a racist
29) You cannot appease the Tetris gods
30) I love Hulu
31) The best way to play the floor is lava
32) That people can be like pies, with a third, deeper layer that’s exactly like the first
33) His fists aren’t the hammer… well, you know
34) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
35) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
36) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
37) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
38) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
39) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
40) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
41) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
42) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
43) You can learn more from your peers sometimes than from your professors
44) Great friends are forever and irreplaceable, but new ones can always be made
45) There are churches that are simply buildings where you gather, and there are churches that are the community of people that make them up.
46) If I manage to only do one thing God has told me to do, it is going to be to love.
47) God wanted me in Arizona. It’s all part of a larger plan he has for me that I can see playing out in my life.
Also, something about equations, particles, forces, and integrals. Until next time, have fun, live life, and don't die. Good night folks.
1) How to function on minimal sleep
2) How to function on no sleep
3) How to use chopsticks
4) How to enjoy drinking coffee
5) Do not expect Tom to fulfill his promises when Team USA beats Team Canada
6) Do not ask Tom to recite Bible verses
7) How to mix concrete
8) How to build a wall
9) How to speak French, sorta… Okay, I think I can say hello.
10) Kris makes awesome food (dinner and dessert)
11) How to do bass on hard for Rock Band
12) Do not challenge the Halo god, he will pwn you like a noob and destroy your childhood
13) Where the turtle pond is
14) On that note, how to get Heidi really mad at you (also, Bejeweled)
15) How to not get girls really mad at you in general (it’s a work in progress)
16) Tattoos on the inside of your arm really hurt
17) They can be really worth it
18) How to swing dance
19) How to flip people/swing stunts
20) How not to flip Joshua
21) How to keep a blog
22) How to procrastinate like a pro
23) How to get to the roof of the student union
24) Urban Spelunking/trespassing or breaking certain broadly interpreted anti-terrorism laws
25) How to adjust for ‘Ryan Time’ (add 15 minutes)
26) Jane Austin is better with zombies
27) Wizarding Independence Day is May 2. Prepare for it next year and celebrate it properly
28) Apparently, Zordon is a racist
29) You cannot appease the Tetris gods
30) I love Hulu
31) The best way to play the floor is lava
32) That people can be like pies, with a third, deeper layer that’s exactly like the first
33) His fists aren’t the hammer… well, you know
34) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
35) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
36) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
37) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
38) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
39) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
40) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
41) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
42) [removed due to, well, it’s from SIGPoBarB]
43) You can learn more from your peers sometimes than from your professors
44) Great friends are forever and irreplaceable, but new ones can always be made
45) There are churches that are simply buildings where you gather, and there are churches that are the community of people that make them up.
46) If I manage to only do one thing God has told me to do, it is going to be to love.
47) God wanted me in Arizona. It’s all part of a larger plan he has for me that I can see playing out in my life.
Also, something about equations, particles, forces, and integrals. Until next time, have fun, live life, and don't die. Good night folks.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Interviews
I met Prophete in Haiti. Once he found out my camera could take video, he wanted to interview him. I let him in exchange for him letting me interview him.
Prophete's interview of me
My interview of Prophete
Prophete's interview of me
My interview of Prophete
Monday, May 3, 2010
Seeing God through Shattered Glass
I sat there, stuck between the white truck in front of me and the white car behind me the first morning in May. I waited in my own green Mazda as the cop walked from his unmarked cruiser to mine. We exchanged the traditional civilities, “License and registration,” “Here you are, officer,” “Do you know you were going eighteen over the speed limit?” “Yes sir”: the normal exchange. He proceeded to the truck which he, impressively, had pulled over along side of me.
As he dealt with the other driver, I called my mom. Better to let her know now than later I thought. Unsurprisingly, she was not happy, and unfortunately, half of my classmates passed me as I sat there. I would have to deal with their grief all day before returning home to deal with my mom’s. I knew I would not be speeding for at least the next several days, if I was even driving.
Eventually he was finished with each of us and returned to me with my ticket. I politely told the officer, “Thank you,” and drove off. Only two days later those words would be much more than a simple gratuity.
____________________________________________________________
It had been a long week of track and then drama practice until ten, and homework until twelve or even one in the morning. Add to that my speeding ticket on Thursday and Saturday came at a great relief. The night before was the first performance of Bye, Bye, Birdie, our school musical, and after this night it would all be over, finally.
I returned to school for the last night of our spring drama. I had only a small role in the musical, and eventually, it was all over. Afterwards, the entire cast went out to eat to cap off the production. We ate and hung out, and shortly after eleven, I was in my own car, on my way home.
I drove north from the restaurant and eventually was on Buckley Road, which takes me straight home. The late nights and stress of the week were catching up with me as I drove, but I was sure I could make it home safely. Within five minutes of my house, I found out just how wrong I was.
I fell asleep only to be woken up by the median divider my car had driven onto. I had only a second to recognize the bush in front of me and process, “Oh, crap,” before I flipped my car, rose into the air, and landed with a bang back on the road and on the driver’s side of the car, before coming back down, right side up.
The world stopped, time froze around me. I looked around my car. The smell of gunpowder filled the air and a tingle of numbness rested on my lips. Both airbags hung limp after having exploded outward to protect me and a passenger who did not exist. The face of the radio was detached and missing. One side view mirror remained, tethered only by some wires, but its brother was missing entirely. The windshield had fractured, its cracks rippling out from the corner like a stone in a broken pond. My mind proceeded to myself, but I felt no pain. I put my hands to my face and only than did I feel the cold blood running down from the top of my head.
I knew I needed to call for help. Only briefly did I consider calling my parents, but I could not bare the thought of telling my parents, my mom especially, that I had not kept their son safe. Instead, I pulled my phone from my pocket, and although it had been whining for hours to be charged, made the 911 call.
“Hello, 911. What is your emergency,” a woman with a calm voice asked me.
“Hello,” I told the operator, “I was just in a car accident. I fell asleep and rolled my car. I’m north on Buckley, just south of Buckley and Quincy. I’m in a green Mazda 626, license plate 316-GDM. I have blood running down my forehead.” The rush of information was as much for my benefit as for hers. I had to prove to myself that I was okay. I had not forgotten anything or hurt my head in my crash and was relieved to find out that much was true.
Before the call had even ended, the first police officer had arrived and within the next thirty seconds, so had an ambulance, a fire truck, and several more cop cars. After insuring that I was okay and receiving my information, they let me get out of the car. Miraculously, I was able to do so under my own power. My legs had not been injured, and I could open the door without any sort of jam or struggle. I sat myself on the stretcher and the EMTs strapped me in. One of the officers, having just heard my name, asked, “Stibrich? Is your mom JoAnn Stibrich and does she work at Mt. Olive?”
“Yes,” I answered him, but I failed to grasp the strangeness of the question.
Another officer offered to call my parents, and I immediately accepted, knowing that I could not do it myself. “But please,” I appealed, “make sure you tell them first that I am okay,” anything to calm their fear.
I was loaded into the ambulance and taken to the hospital. The ride was oddly pleasant. It was nice to be away from the car, now smashed and tattered, and inside something sheltered. The EMT riding along in the back was young, but very nice. He helped me to relax and calm down as I had been shaking since I stepped out of my car. Soon enough, I was being unloaded from the ambulance and wheeled into the emergency room. Before he left me in the hands of an ER doctor and nurses, the EMT turned to me and told me, “You are the luckiest guy I’ve seen all day,” and he was right. I had just gone through a violent crash and came out of it with only scratch on my head.
A nurse came and attended to me. Soon afterwards the sound of wailing entered the room, and about a minute later, my mom followed her own cries in with my dad close behind. The next few moments were a fury of tears and hugs as my parents were relieved to hold me in their arms and know that I was okay.
Soon after the reunion calmed down, the same officer who asked about my mom entered the room. He wanted to check up on me, and on my mom. As it turned out, his son attended my mom’s preschool. He recognized my name at the crash scene and was immediately concerned. In the days that followed, he offered some additional support and provided us with information about the accident we otherwise would not have known. He left shortly after stepping into the room.
My parents and I spent several hours in the emergency room. A doctor came and examined my head which a nurse had cleaned and determined I would not need stitches. A CT-scan showed I did not have a concussion either. The time we had in that room allowed my mom and me to reflect on my accident and my relative lack of injuries. We realized just how blessed I had been, just how much God had protected me. The front and back of my car had been destroyed, but the body had held intact, protecting me. I hit no other cars, putting no one else at risk and saving me from the lifelong guilt of harming and endangering someone else. Most important was two days earlier I was pulled over for speeding and received a ticket. That ticket slowed me down. That ticket saved my life.
We realized the EMT was wrong. I was not the luckiest guy as he had said; rather, I was the most blessed.
As he dealt with the other driver, I called my mom. Better to let her know now than later I thought. Unsurprisingly, she was not happy, and unfortunately, half of my classmates passed me as I sat there. I would have to deal with their grief all day before returning home to deal with my mom’s. I knew I would not be speeding for at least the next several days, if I was even driving.
Eventually he was finished with each of us and returned to me with my ticket. I politely told the officer, “Thank you,” and drove off. Only two days later those words would be much more than a simple gratuity.
____________________________________________________________
It had been a long week of track and then drama practice until ten, and homework until twelve or even one in the morning. Add to that my speeding ticket on Thursday and Saturday came at a great relief. The night before was the first performance of Bye, Bye, Birdie, our school musical, and after this night it would all be over, finally.
I returned to school for the last night of our spring drama. I had only a small role in the musical, and eventually, it was all over. Afterwards, the entire cast went out to eat to cap off the production. We ate and hung out, and shortly after eleven, I was in my own car, on my way home.
I drove north from the restaurant and eventually was on Buckley Road, which takes me straight home. The late nights and stress of the week were catching up with me as I drove, but I was sure I could make it home safely. Within five minutes of my house, I found out just how wrong I was.
I fell asleep only to be woken up by the median divider my car had driven onto. I had only a second to recognize the bush in front of me and process, “Oh, crap,” before I flipped my car, rose into the air, and landed with a bang back on the road and on the driver’s side of the car, before coming back down, right side up.
The world stopped, time froze around me. I looked around my car. The smell of gunpowder filled the air and a tingle of numbness rested on my lips. Both airbags hung limp after having exploded outward to protect me and a passenger who did not exist. The face of the radio was detached and missing. One side view mirror remained, tethered only by some wires, but its brother was missing entirely. The windshield had fractured, its cracks rippling out from the corner like a stone in a broken pond. My mind proceeded to myself, but I felt no pain. I put my hands to my face and only than did I feel the cold blood running down from the top of my head.
I knew I needed to call for help. Only briefly did I consider calling my parents, but I could not bare the thought of telling my parents, my mom especially, that I had not kept their son safe. Instead, I pulled my phone from my pocket, and although it had been whining for hours to be charged, made the 911 call.
“Hello, 911. What is your emergency,” a woman with a calm voice asked me.
“Hello,” I told the operator, “I was just in a car accident. I fell asleep and rolled my car. I’m north on Buckley, just south of Buckley and Quincy. I’m in a green Mazda 626, license plate 316-GDM. I have blood running down my forehead.” The rush of information was as much for my benefit as for hers. I had to prove to myself that I was okay. I had not forgotten anything or hurt my head in my crash and was relieved to find out that much was true.
Before the call had even ended, the first police officer had arrived and within the next thirty seconds, so had an ambulance, a fire truck, and several more cop cars. After insuring that I was okay and receiving my information, they let me get out of the car. Miraculously, I was able to do so under my own power. My legs had not been injured, and I could open the door without any sort of jam or struggle. I sat myself on the stretcher and the EMTs strapped me in. One of the officers, having just heard my name, asked, “Stibrich? Is your mom JoAnn Stibrich and does she work at Mt. Olive?”
“Yes,” I answered him, but I failed to grasp the strangeness of the question.
Another officer offered to call my parents, and I immediately accepted, knowing that I could not do it myself. “But please,” I appealed, “make sure you tell them first that I am okay,” anything to calm their fear.
I was loaded into the ambulance and taken to the hospital. The ride was oddly pleasant. It was nice to be away from the car, now smashed and tattered, and inside something sheltered. The EMT riding along in the back was young, but very nice. He helped me to relax and calm down as I had been shaking since I stepped out of my car. Soon enough, I was being unloaded from the ambulance and wheeled into the emergency room. Before he left me in the hands of an ER doctor and nurses, the EMT turned to me and told me, “You are the luckiest guy I’ve seen all day,” and he was right. I had just gone through a violent crash and came out of it with only scratch on my head.
A nurse came and attended to me. Soon afterwards the sound of wailing entered the room, and about a minute later, my mom followed her own cries in with my dad close behind. The next few moments were a fury of tears and hugs as my parents were relieved to hold me in their arms and know that I was okay.
Soon after the reunion calmed down, the same officer who asked about my mom entered the room. He wanted to check up on me, and on my mom. As it turned out, his son attended my mom’s preschool. He recognized my name at the crash scene and was immediately concerned. In the days that followed, he offered some additional support and provided us with information about the accident we otherwise would not have known. He left shortly after stepping into the room.
My parents and I spent several hours in the emergency room. A doctor came and examined my head which a nurse had cleaned and determined I would not need stitches. A CT-scan showed I did not have a concussion either. The time we had in that room allowed my mom and me to reflect on my accident and my relative lack of injuries. We realized just how blessed I had been, just how much God had protected me. The front and back of my car had been destroyed, but the body had held intact, protecting me. I hit no other cars, putting no one else at risk and saving me from the lifelong guilt of harming and endangering someone else. Most important was two days earlier I was pulled over for speeding and received a ticket. That ticket slowed me down. That ticket saved my life.
We realized the EMT was wrong. I was not the luckiest guy as he had said; rather, I was the most blessed.
5308
So today is an oddly reflective day. Two years ago today is the day now tattooed on my arm. It's interesting to have my physical mark coincide with the day it is commemorating. May 3rd, 2008 was such an important day. I remember it all so well, from many details of the morning track meet, to my mid-afternoon activities with friends which were supposed to be a simple drive back. I put on a play a few hours later, nearly got in a fight back stage. My coach was disrespected. Don't disrespect my coach. Well, that's not all the story behind the near fight. I went out to dinner with friends, celebrating the successful run of the play. I left for home. The day was almost over, and certainly entertaining enough by this point. The week had left me sleep deprived and stressed. Trying to deal with track, drama, homework, and my first speeding ticket had worn on me. I fell asleep while driving. I'll finish the story in another post with the narrative I wrote last year about the event.
For now, I reflect. That was the day I realized God had a plan for me. I cannot look back at that day without seeing His protecting hand. The speeding ticket from two days before may have saved my life. I see God in that. The EMT, and one of the cops were shocked I was so seemingly unhurt. I see God in that as well. God saved my life, and I believe he did it for a purpose. I already see His plan working in me and through me. He brought me to Arizona so that I could be a part of Damascus Road. He sent me to Haiti, and in a few years, I believe He's sending me to the Midwest to help begin a new Damascus Road. Beyond that, I have no idea, but I know God has a plan for me, a great plan. In fact, I am afraid. I fear His plan is greater than what I can handle, or greater than what I desire for myself. I fear His plan will ask me to give all that I possibly can give. I also have faith that God will never abandon me. He didn't abandon me on that road, He didn't abandon me in Haiti; whatever God plans for me, he will not abandon me. That is all I need to know.
The other part of my tattoo is GRACE. I actively read my Bible at the end of last summer more than I have in awhile. I read through Romans, and discovered just how beyond my understanding grace is. I cannot fathom grace; it is so great and wonderful. I thought I understood it. I thought it was simple. I was wrong. Grace is something so incredibly present in my life. I have since taken a line from Relient K's "Be My Escape" deeply to heart. "The beauty of grace is it makes life not fair." Eventually this lyric will also be etched on to my skin. It so beautifully captures the little I understand about grace. Grace is completely and absolutely undeserved gifts from God in the purest form. My accident, more importantly, my life is God's grace. Until next time, have fun, live life, and don't die. Good night folks.
For now, I reflect. That was the day I realized God had a plan for me. I cannot look back at that day without seeing His protecting hand. The speeding ticket from two days before may have saved my life. I see God in that. The EMT, and one of the cops were shocked I was so seemingly unhurt. I see God in that as well. God saved my life, and I believe he did it for a purpose. I already see His plan working in me and through me. He brought me to Arizona so that I could be a part of Damascus Road. He sent me to Haiti, and in a few years, I believe He's sending me to the Midwest to help begin a new Damascus Road. Beyond that, I have no idea, but I know God has a plan for me, a great plan. In fact, I am afraid. I fear His plan is greater than what I can handle, or greater than what I desire for myself. I fear His plan will ask me to give all that I possibly can give. I also have faith that God will never abandon me. He didn't abandon me on that road, He didn't abandon me in Haiti; whatever God plans for me, he will not abandon me. That is all I need to know.
The other part of my tattoo is GRACE. I actively read my Bible at the end of last summer more than I have in awhile. I read through Romans, and discovered just how beyond my understanding grace is. I cannot fathom grace; it is so great and wonderful. I thought I understood it. I thought it was simple. I was wrong. Grace is something so incredibly present in my life. I have since taken a line from Relient K's "Be My Escape" deeply to heart. "The beauty of grace is it makes life not fair." Eventually this lyric will also be etched on to my skin. It so beautifully captures the little I understand about grace. Grace is completely and absolutely undeserved gifts from God in the purest form. My accident, more importantly, my life is God's grace. Until next time, have fun, live life, and don't die. Good night folks.
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