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I come from a small town, enjoy laughing and being the weird one to help others smile. We should hang out sometime.

Sunday, August 21, 2011


Hello all of you who read these enlightening posts! 

First off,  I want to point out I love you. 

The End!

Okay, you caught me. That was not in fact the end of the post. But I rather had you fearful of the end for maybe two seconds right?  

 Today, I will type of a concept that has seriously been nagging in the back of my mind for the past month. 

The subject at hand? Just the word popular. 


regarded with favor, approval, or affection by people in general: a popular preacher.
regarded with favor, approval, or affection by an acquaintance or acquaintances: He's not very popular with me just now.

You may be more than a tad quizzical as to why this word has been irking my psyche. Honestly, it's something I never wanted to be. Everyone knows the popular people are complete snots that spend their hours attempting to contemplate a new routine of crushing and attacking anyone and everyone. 

Coming from a rural area, I never saw one of these stereotypical popular persons. Everyone was (more or less) friends with everyone. Sure there were a few declared blood feuds, but EVERYONE was civil, if not outright kind. We all knew that only city kids could possibly be so mean to one another.

Why all the seemingly random backstory? Well... recently one of my good friends accused me of being popular. That was completely unexpected and rather made me angry, because of my stereotypes. But this started me thinking, what really is popular? I found those definitions up there. In my evenings I would find myself staring off to the western horizon and pondering popularity. Is it truly all that bad? Who else do I know that could be called popular?

Some names came to mind, and EVERY one was somebody I respected. 
Ben Jacob: Student Body President 2010-2011, somebody who I'm sure knew every person in the school, a person I am proud to have met.
Emma Marie: How can I begin to describe her? She was the very first person I met here in the Northland. And it wasn't even at school! I was up at a New Year's Eve dance and she came up to me and greeted me quite randomly. All throughout high school she was always there willing to help everyone even when she had a stack of homework as high as a doorframe. I'm honored to call her friend.

 Dale Thomas Tingey: Fighter Pilot Instructor during WWII, founder of American Indian Services, recipient of the Day of '47 Health Education & Humanitarian Assistance Award, and most important to me, he is my grandfather. I doubt there is anywhere he could go in the nation without knowing somebody or being known by somebody.

Seeing that these people are popular, I now embrace the possibility of me being popular. It's rather strange and unsettling.

I have another confession to make.... I am nervous. This isn't the nervous I get when I'm around a pretty girl. I'm pretty sure that I think I might sorta slightly be able to hide that...maybe. No, this is a nervousness that comes from possibly not seeing any of my friends for three months. I now have an appointment for an interview for a job. Now this job will be farming shrimp on the Great Salt Lake. It'll be amazing if I can get it, but that means I'll be apart from all of you. I've grown used to having friends around all the time the past two years... and soon I could very well be alone. It's all very sobering thought for one such as me.

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