BATTERY

I have never been one to think that I have my shit together. Case in point: this blog. It's like an episode of Degrassi meets The Critic (only not quite as awesome because it isn't animated).

At the moment though, a lot of things have fallen in to place.

After witnessing my sister's success, I am particularly proud as a member of my family and I am extremely glad I was there to witness a great deal of it myself... Because really, what's more important than family? And for the Murs fans reading this, is it not true that "if a soul is avenged through the deeds of a friend, then success has always been the best form of revenge"?

I certainly think so, and that's certainly the way I choose to live.

At the end of the day, though, nothing is more important than simply being able to count your blessings. I know this sounds preachy, but anyone who knows me can attest both to the fact that I sincerely mean this and-more importantly-to the fact that it's true.

That's why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and moreover November my favorite month. Christmas only promotes kids looking forward to what they get, while the concept of giving thanks (or, being appreciative-or, better yet-counting their blessings if you're following the metaphor) is literally built into the name Thanksgiving. It's not true that Thanksgiving's origins include indigenous Americans, so don't give me that bullshit.

The point is: I've enjoyed a sustained period of happiness that I haven't felt in quite some time, and I'm fucking glad I am.

Cheers,

Darren.

I DON'T MIND IF YOU FORGET ME

Something I never want to forget:

After my sister's team won the sectional championship to advance to the state finals, I asked my Dad a simple question that really put a lot of perspective on things.

As far as I know, there are maybe-maybe-five people who like sports than my Dad. And as far as I know, he has attended more high school and college sports than has any other individual. He has not been a spectator for quite as many professional sports, but that is beside the point.

A constant SportsCenter viewer and an avid sports lover, it's rather hard to impress him with athletic feats.

My question to him (after witnessing this stoic man jump about eight feet laterally after the winning point of the winning game of the match) was this:

'Is this your favorite moment in sports history?'

He's seen his favorite teams (Lakers and Dodgers) win championships in their respective sports, witnessed a Wayne Gretzky hat trick live (as did I) and so on and so forth.

He did not hesitate to answer, unabashedly: "Absolutely."

The immense amount of pride I felt watching my sister achieve her dreams was undoubtedly unmatched by my father's pride watching his daughter succeed at the highest level she had to date.

It was a beautiful moment for me to witness, and, as I said earlier, I never want to forget it. I don't think I would have if I hadn't blogged about it, but-at the same time-I did promise more posts in November.

It's just weird that the previous post was about something my Mom said. I'll try to keep my family out of it next time.

Darren.

CHERRY PIE

I barely remember what it feels like to be depressed anymore.

That was certainly an overstatement, but that's artistic license for you.

I don't know why, because it doesn't seem like much has changed. In many ways, I feel even my attitude hasn't changed much. I can't identify this mysterious source of happiness, but hell-I'm not complaining.

I do feel like it's harder to blog (read "disclose your feelings over the Internet") when you're in a good mood.

I haven't written an overtly funny post in quite some time (rather, since I first started this blog), though I'm sure I've made a few people laugh since then. Those posts likely weren't funny, though. I'd venture to guess that they were either entirely melodramatic, self-deprecating, or both.

That being said, I'd like to relay to you the true story that may be one of the funniest I've had the pleasure to witness.

Half of the humor of the story comes from understanding my Mom. She's a wonderful woman. She's caring and minds her own business. She rarely has anything negative to say. Even when she makes fun of people, it is typically only at my sister's or my expense.

But one fateful day about eight years ago, she made one of the greatest jokes I've ever heard, even to this day.

My sister and I had a half-day at school one day during the early summer months and my Mom picked us up from school. Either she found Carl's Jr. particularly appetizing that night, or she was just tired from driving my sister and me around all day and didn't feel like making lunch. I'm almost certain it's the latter, but she was never the type to shy away from making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, so your guess is as good as mine.

Anyway, as we approached Carl's Jr., we saw a girl who was about eight years old. She was around 4'2" and weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of 175 pounds. If you think this is an exaggeration, it's actually just a poor estimation. I have a vivid memory of her, but it's difficult for me to accurately guess any measurement (distance, weight, time, etc.). She wasn't quite fit for Maury, but she could definitely have been in a commercial about childhood diabetes or obesity. Not only that, she had curly red hair and a face full of freckles.

Here's the kicker: she was wearing the t-shirt equivalent of the panties shown above. It was a pink t-shirt with the words "CUTIE PIE" prominently displayed above the image of some cherries.

And I will never forget the immortal words my Mom used to describe that poor little girl: "She could use a little more cute, and a lot less pie."

THIS MUST BE THE PLACE (NAIVE MELODY)

"Never for money, always for love."

As far as academia goes, I'm fucking done. At this point, what is the point of even continuing my education? Do the next six months of me not going to class and earning C- grades actually make me a more valuable member of society?

UCLA, just give me my fucking diploma. Seriously. We have both made it abundantly clear that I don't like you and that you don't like me.

If I felt at all passionate about anything this institution could offer me, I might be in a better place. But the curricula for the majors here are ridiculous. It is clear that I should not have majored in political science (though the political theory classes within the major have been intriguing, engaging, and taught by faculty members for whom I have a great deal of respect). It doesn't seem that I'd have been better off majoring in history, philosophy, or English though.

Politics... the biggest fucking joke and scam in history. As Mark Twain so eloquently put it, "If voting made any difference, they wouldn't let us do it." And that's so true. The power structure in this country is so entirely aprat from voting that it doesn't matter at all whether we have a Democratic or Republican president in the slightest. Whichever party is in power still bows to the private individuals who fund their campaigns. And, invariably, the individuals who fund the campaigns are those who

NOVEMBER SPAWNED A MONSTER

Seeing as November is my favorite month of the year, I feel it's only appropriate to give an update (as I hope to do more frequently, particularly during this month).

I haven't got much to report about my mood honestly (why yes, I can hear the collective sigh of relief uttered by my five readers). I have been happier lately than I have in quite some time. I am still rather apathetic and amotivated, but I'm more hopeful now than ever that I will find something or someone to reinvigorate me.

The good news is: the election is over. Not being a registered voter and not really caring at all, I can say that I'm very, very happy with the results. The Republicans have retaken the house, Jerry Brown is governor of California again, but none of that matters at all to me. I'm a big picture kinda guy. I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that I don't have to hear those mud-slinging ads on T.V. or the radio anymore. I'm not sure whether I am happy that I don't have a land line-the reason I didn't get any phone calls-or sad that I couldn't have given them the old Jerry Seinfeld. But really, does anyone care about politics anymore? Does anyone even vote? I know damn well the answer to both of these questions is yes. You cannot walk around UCLA without some damned Democrat proudly displaying his or her "I VOTED" sticker, or espousing their political beliefs at entirely inappropriate times. Really though-elections are, and have always been, about disparaging your opponent. My biggest complaint about elections is that in the last number of presidential elections, the candidate who spent more on his presidential campaign has won the election. This is a fact, though I cannot point to a specific year. I do intend to find out from a leading researcher in the field, (and an all-around fox) Lynn Vavreck.

The bad news is the San Francisco Giants won the World Series last night. Seeing the Giants qualify for the Fall Classic was painful enough. But seeing them win was downright depressing. I personally couldn't have thought of a more depressing way to start my favorite month. And it was on the first day, for Christ's sake.

It was just a solemn reminder that this month, I become college's version of "over the hill": 22 years old. On one hand, I've been looking forward to this day since I was a child-while all the other kids in the schoolyard enjoyed their golden birthdays, I had to wait between 10 and 17 years for mine. Now that it's come, however, I am much less than enthused. Being 22 means I'm four, maybe five years older than the youngest kids in college. In the end, it's not such a big deal... I guess it really means I'll just be buyin' booze for these kids. Life's not so bad.

I say that because, no matter how old I get, I will always (and I mean always) love Thanksgiving. November is the best month of the year simply because Thanksgiving is the greatest holiday on the planet. The United States government may not have always made the right choices, but Thanksgiving is certainly a diamond in the rough-and, if I may say so, its magnum opus. While the slaughter of indigenous peoples has always been a strike against Thanksgiving, I say to hell with them! Of course I'm kidding, but I still support Thanksgiving wholeheartedly for the following reasons. First, the premise of Thanksgiving is great: giving thanks. You might reply, "Well, you should give thanks all the time," to which I answer: "How often do you?" Since my family isn't crazy, I also love to see them as often as I can, and Thanksgiving presents that opportunity. Lastly, and most importantly, Thanksgiving dinner is the greatest meal of all-time. Last year my family used five pounds of butter preparing the meal we enjoyed. I hope this year we can beat the record.

And, in case you thought it was out of character for me to include the zodiac in my blog, I assure you-you're right. Jim Morrison voiced my opinion on the matter during a live performance. "I don't know how many of you people believe in astrology... I am a Sagittarius: the most philosophical of all the signs... But I don't believe in it. I think it's a bunch of bull shit, myself."

Darren.

P.S. I have been thinking about performing stand-up comedy. I leave you here with a few one-liners:

I don't like Halloween because I don't like being given ultimatums.

At the gym, the dumbest question you can ask is: "What are you doing here?"

I haven't been laid since the Bush administration, and I feel like there's something really wrong with that.