Happy is What Happens When You Don't Get Your Way

I realized I haven't posted in awhile, and it seems that it may be time for an update. And here it is.

So after deciding that New Hapshire was too far away for my own sanity, I reluctantly moved back in with my parents, and immediately posted an ad on craigslist, which, paraphrased, reads as such:

"Hi. My name is secret. I am 20. I am at my wit's end. I need a place to live where people aren't neurotic. I work at a hotel. It's cool. Yeah. I'll pay you but not alot cuz basically I'm broke. I'm going crazy is all. I also have a keyboard. I play it. It's loud. Rent me your apartment, but not for too much money.

Thank You,
Y o u D o N o t K n o w W h o I A m

I surprisingly got overwhelming response. Most were above my price range, and others were roommate offers. Now honestly, the last thing I wanted was another person in the house to drive me crazy. Roommates were out of the question, and I had no budget. Desperate for housing, I recieved an email:

hello,
my names [name] and my two roommates and I are looking for another roommate for our place in Salem, MA ([street address])its about a mile from salem state campus. our rent is really cheap. blah blah blah size. you'll be looking at about $[price] (+ cable/internet, electric, and gas) a month. blah blah age. blah blah parking. you can come by whenever to take a look - we're all friendly.-

[name]
[number]

I must have had a moment of weakness. Basically, I responded to the only email that met absolutely none of my criteria, except price. A two week long process began, and on monday, I moved in. With roommates. In a neighborhood I looked at before and decided I was never going to look at again.

And you know what? I am happy.

It is amazing how something you thought you never wanted is exactly what you need. Someone to watch TV with until 2am. Someone to remind you to turn off the lights. Someone to introduce you to people and things that you would have never een introduced to otherwise.

It's been four days so far, but I can see myself here for a while. I am grateful for answering that email, and for meeting three roommates who will probably change my life for the better.

I am grateful that I got exactly what I didn't want. And it turned out to be exactly what I need.

The Dangers of Smoking.... Lettuce?

I recently came across this video in which rep. Steve Buyer warns about the Dangers of smoking lettuce.

Also, a more lighthearted aproach

Someone Once Told Me..

I just happened to stumble across this site... and I'd like to give a little shout out before I get off the computer today and do some actual work.

Every day, a new picture is submitted of someone holding up a sign of something that "someone once told them". Alot of them are very moving, some are hillarious, and some are kinda lame. But I love all of them. I spent the entire day browsing until I got to the last photo. It really is a great site.

I leave you with this man and a quote from Voltaire. I originally only posted it because it was Voltaire, but then I laughed alot when I realized what it meant. I'll leave the semi vulgar translation up to you. :)

Two Decades Later...

Yesterday, I turned 20 years old. Which brings me to my next point:

Holy Shit.

So this means that I am no longer able to blame anything on my teenage naivete, or to say that I was to young to know better, or to put things off for tomorrow. Nope, the time is now, and it's fucking scary.

I had a cinematic moment yesterday around midnight... I caught my reflection in the mirror and just stared. I had lived for two decades- and I took stock of all I had accomplished within those years. Certainly not many people my age had ever had an original composition performed in front of leading established liturgical composers, travelled to third world countries to help the poor mountain people of the Dominican Republic. Many my age are not fortunate enough to have a job that earns them some amount of respect and authority, not to mention, for my age, a decent wage.

In spite of this, I felt vaguely hollow; like there was still so much work to be done. I have only completed a year of college, and there are still so many lives I haven't touched in some way. Granted, I have done more than most, but retrospect, what had I really done?

My name is David Cooper. I have lived two decades, and I haven't even started.

People Are Visiting Me Today!

Today I went to work.

I picked up the ringing phone.

I said, "Thank You for calling the Sheraton Ferncroft. How may I help you?"

A guest asked a question. I answered it.

Rinse and repeat.

I Went to Work Today.....

I have an unnatural headache.

I mean..

it's h....................................................I can't even stand it.
.......o
........r...............................And.. I have to stare at a computer
.........r....................................................................for eight hours

..........i.................PLEASE headache- go away...

...........b................and never come back.
.............l...........................EVER
..............e

......................................................................HELP

THE PREVIOUS POST WAS A DRAMATIZATION OF THE WORLD WITH A MIGRAINE.

david j cooper

Drivin' My Life Away

This morning, after a long week that yielded me only a few hours sleep, I woke up at nine. Sure this sounds late I realize, but not when you have to be at work by eleven, with a two hour drive in between.

When I lived in Danvers, I would look at the alarm clock and press the snooze button, and bask in the luxury of time for a few minutes. What I realized today, is that really, we have no time left.

525,600 minutes. That's all the time we get in one year. How many minutes do we spend sleeping? Eating? Working? Commuting?

Far too many times we get caught up. Our daily commute, people passing, barely glancing, toll booth operators and our "have a nice day"s; when will we mean it? Is this all that anyone has worked for? To be content to go about our activities without so much a glance at what we may be missing?

On our hike on Monday I called Thera a shameless romantic when she took a picture of a pink flower growing alongside the trail. It made an artistic shot: it's pale pink leaves struggling to contrast with the dark brown of dead, rotting pine branches.

Shameless romantic. What a waste of film.

And yet finding out later, the pink lady's slipper we photographed was endangered, and the picture she took may be one of the last images ever taken of the precious flower.

How many minutes will you spend connecting with those you love; spending time with friends, spending time in reflection?

How will you measure your year?