blog_browser06's Xanga

Monday, October 29, 2007

Mon, 29 Oct 2007 07:40:22 GMT

When I get down about all this, I've found that it makes me feel better to listen to Jeff Buckley and Iron & Wine.

I know they're supposed to be about more of a lover's melancholy, but to some extent I guess melancholy is melancholy.

I don't even know what to do any more. When I talked to my older cousin at the visitation, he told me that the best thing I could do to come to terms with what happened is to make my life a testament to my dad's - to daily build a legacy to him by living in a way that would have made him proud. I decided I really wanted to do that. It was a good resolution, and I felt - and continue to feel - good about it, but now that I have left the comforting fold of a mourning family to try to implement it... well, it's not what I thought it would be.

I guess I assumed that, while I was on this mission to live a life that would make people say, "Wow, that boy must of had a helluva Pops to make him grow up the way he did" and make me feel satisfied that my dad would be proud if he could see what I was doing, I'd just be too busy to feel sorry for myself or have bad days. I never expected it would be this hard.

Everybody has regrets when they lose somebody; the things you wish you had done or said or maybe the things you wish you had not done or not said - the things you would change. I was fortunate in this respect; my dad and I had a really rocky relationship my last two or three years of high school, and we butted heads constantly and we fought, but when I got into college it was almost like it was all water under the bridge. I realize now that most of the friction we had in high school was him trying to push me onto the right path in life. My biggest regret - that I didn't know him as well as I feel like I should have - is probably really nothing more than me wishing I had more time with him. I'd say I knew him about as well as any 21 or 22 year old knows his father; very well as a parent, but just tolerably well as a friend. We did a good job making time to just shoot the breeze once or twice a week, but I was still growing into my role as his friend. I never expected him to be gone so soon.

I am under the impression that, going forward, there will be many, many times in my life where something occurs to me and I'll wonder what he would have thought of it, or what he would have said, or if he would have smiled. He was a few months away from his 62nd birthday when he passed; just looking forward to drawing his first Social Security payment. Maybe it's just the melancholy speaking, but I feel a little bit like that is a metaphor for the way he went. He'd worked his whole life providing for his family, on trying to make sure my sister and I grew up right. He'd been paying in for years, investing all his time in us. All that time. Our fights. His unending business trips. All of it. And now, less than a year from my sister's high school graduation and my own graduation from college, he's gone. He'd worked through the hard parts. What was left? Watching us cross our respective stages? Seeing us meet people and fall in love with them? Spoiling his grandkids? On the darker days it almost seems like some kind of cruel joke - on the good days, it just makes me want to follow my cousin's advice, to live to make him proud, even more.

Among the most well known of Shakespeare quotes is "Parting is such sweet sorrow." Every time I've read it in Romeo & Juliet, I've thought of it in its romantic context; it makes me think of girls I have loved, of that peculiarity of the human condition wherein we remember the best when times are worst. These past couple of days though, it has been running through my head very frequently when my thoughts turn to my dad. It is the phrase that I think best describes how I feel when I think of the things he has done for me, and the things I will never get to do for him. I know that he will always live on as long as I live on, even if it is just as a little nagging voice that crops up from time to time when my life comes to some sort of critical juncture or insignificant waystation to say "This would make Dad smile." I don't know if I have ever felt such a sickly sweet emotion as I did the first time it occurred. The day of his funeral, a Saturday in September, I came home feeling as though I had spent the day being completely deconstructed in front of 30 or 40 family friends. Nothing left but a pile of debris and dust. That was the first time I ever had that feeling.

A cousin or aunt or uncle, trying to get things back to normal, turned the television to college football. My dad had never cared about the sport until I went to school and started caring, but after that he started to follow the Gamecocks and the SEC religiously. This was the weekend that really cemented 2007 as the season of the upset in college football. Maryland beat Rutgers; Auburn beat (undefeated) Florida; Illinois beat Penn State; Tulane played LSU close for a half, and Mississippi State led South Carolina for a worrisome amount of time. Watching the college football rankings turned on their heads that afternoon, I couldn't help but think that this would make my dad smile. He would have called me the next day. At first we would have talked about the Gamecocks, and how close of a game it was for a while, but then how relieved we were to see the Head Ball Coach win it in the end. Then we would have talked about the other games. He would have told me how he could really see SC having a chance to win the SEC and, if they could do that, even going to the national title game. He would have asked how my week was and if I was keeping up with my schoolwork. It was nice to think of dad in the present and even the future tense for a change. I relished the imagined conversation and the escape it provided from the dark and surreal events of the day. It also began to dawn on me that, from that point forward, nothing would ever be the same again.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Sat, 20 Oct 2007 05:55:01 GMT

and it doesn't get better

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Thu, 27 Sep 2007 08:51:56 GMT

RIP Wayne Edwin Bassett, Jan 26th 1946 - Sept 26th 2007.

I already miss you so much Dad

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Sat, 15 Sep 2007 13:59:26 GMT

I was very literally out drinking from 4pm yesterday (Happy Hour!) until 3am today.

I bought both the bartenders more shots than they could handle though, so a lot of my tab was "forgotten"

11 hours of drinking + a pizza only came out to 68 dollars? <3 happy hour, <3 cheap food, and <3 cool bartenders.

Also I got a job?

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Thu, 06 Sep 2007 02:18:18 GMT

New post graduation goal: hike the entire Appalachian Trail before I go to work forever in corporation land. My parents are willing to throw down big for graduation, so I think this might actually end up being a cheap alternative compared to what they were talking about - paying for me and four or five friends to travel Europe for a 4-6 weeks or something like that.

I'd rather just go drag gear through the backcountry. I'm a simple man :)

Friday, August 31, 2007

Fri, 31 Aug 2007 23:26:05 GMT

I have the most pessimistic take on dating in general. I've been brought up to believe that people are good, and that they are loyal, and that love is for life, but time and time again I see the "everybody KNOWS they're getting married" relationships fall apart. My roommate from sophmore year has been dating the same girl literally since about a month after I met him, in September of 2005, when all of a sudden he calls me today talking about how he is going to break up with her because he found out she had a "thang" all summer long back in Rhode Island. I've had a couple of my own disappointments in relationships, but I've never (to my knowledge) had a girl cheat on me. I can't imagine how horrifying it is to find out that the person you love could do that.

I tend to keep my distance in relationships for this very reason... the same reason I tend to keep people who I clearly should be dating at arm's length. I've never had a really serious relationship that lasted more than 4 months, and every day I (sadly enough) feel more and more validated by that.

Oh well, I guess the world needs jaded old bachelors too.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Fri, 31 Aug 2007 06:36:23 GMT

Wild Turkey 101 proof = my archnemesis. We do battle. The last time we clashed, I was pickpocketed and ended up losing my sandals running from a gaggle of angry fratters I insulted. This time, I emerged the clear victor, but only because the fifth of W.T. was on it's last leg.

Unfortunately, to my test buds anyways, it is by far the most delicious liquor on the planet, so we are destined to come into conflict again and again. Damn you, traitorous taste buds.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Wed, 29 Aug 2007 16:42:42 GMT

Today was the first day of jogging in jogging class. We were to run a mile for evaluation. We were allowed to run, jog or walk, just as long as we "did our best". It was 12:30 in the afternoon with a heat index of 98 or 99, but I figured it'd be nice to set the tone of the semester by pushing myself. I picked two people, a guy and a girl, and decided that I was going to try to match speed with whichever one was more reasonable. The guy started off sprinting and then fell off to walking with his hands on his sides after about a quarter of a mile, but the chick maintained a pace so I just kind of dragged myself along as best I could about 20 feet back from her.

And that's the story of my first sub seven minute mile ever. True, 6:58 is not waaaaaay below seven, but it's still the fastest mile I've ever run by a good 20 or 25 seconds. It's going to be a good semester.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 04:50:24 GMT

I passed exam 1/p - couldn't be more ecstatic! Went out, blew like 150 bucks out on the town celebrating, and had my wallet lifted. Even that couldn't bring me down :)

Strangely enough, I am a little sad that I am done with the test now. As many times as I would have rather been out this summer instead of studying, it had become such an automatic part of my routine that now I feel a little lost. It's like hiking the entire Appalachian Trail - you're out there for months with your routine: wake up, take down tent, walk all day, put up tent, eat and sleep. Everybody gets sick of it at some point or another, but you keep doing it because it's your routine. Then one day you find yourself atop Mt. Katahdin in Maine (or Springer Mountain, GA) and in a blur of a car ride travelling further in a half hour than you are now used to travelling in a day, you are sleeping in a bed, eating things besides Ramen noodles, and no longer worrying about which creek you are going to get your water out of. You wake up and go to work, but inside you feel like you should be carrying a 60 pound back through some rhododendron patch way out back o' beyond in North Carolina.

Somewhat along that same line of thought, I'm thinking about starting to study for my second test, financial mathematics. It should be easy in comparison to the first, since a) Test I is a weedout test, b) I am a finance major and c) I know what to expect now. While I AM all about hanging out and having a good time my last year in college, in the actuarial field all good things come from passing the tests (there are nine). The faster you can run the gauntlet, the faster you make bank. Being able to finish two, or even three, before I graduate would put me in pretty much the most elite position among an already fairly stellar group of performees.

AND, it'll let me get back into my lovely little routine of studying at Starbuck's and hogging a table for hours on end. Sweeeeeeet.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 00:33:32 GMT

Let me preface this by saying it's been a long time since I could enjoy listening to Sean Hannity talk. I think he is an opportunistic journalism school dropout, and I believe his understanding of issues doesn't go any deeper than the talking points or teleprompter in front of him.

That said, I have never really been a fan of Geraldo either. That is, until he went on Hannity & Colmes and owned Sean Hannity. And made sense doing it. You have regained a smidgeon of my respect, O mustachioed one.

A portion of the "debate" is here on youtube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wsZgfGKx2Y

This doesn't have my favorite part though - that was when Geraldo really defined why he believes there is racism inherent in all the cable news coverage of these three students who were murdered by an illegal immigrant. I can't find a transcript, but it was something along these lines:

"Nobody on cable news cared about those three kids before we found out the immigration status of the accused. There were 16 murders committed last year across the river in Newark, WHERE WERE YOU FOR THOSE?"

Amen. I don't even know if I exactly agree, but it just makes me giddy to see that little Bill O'Reilly in waiting squirm when forced to face a rational argument. Especially when it's from a fellow Fox minion who he can't just outright dismiss as a liberal elitist.