I realized today that I haven't written anything in my blog for 2013. Somehow I've been occupied and not too optimistic about this year. It didn't exactly start off well. New Years night I went out with my coworkers without eating anything since before my shift started. As a result drank like I used to and got "wicked shitfaced." I got choked out, threw up on my coworker's bedroom floor, passed out on the subway for three hours, and lost my glasses. Yep. I LOST MY GLASSES! I have been wearing spectacles since I was twelve years old. In the thirteen years since my first pair I have NEVER lost them. Broken, yes, but not severely. Scratched, all the time. But never ever lost. Imagine my embarrassment then and how much I had to hate myself when I had to wander around the city of Boston without my glasses. It took me a month to get them. I finally received my financial aid check and paid off my credit card and bought new glasses.
I dropped over a month's rent on both.
I tried to save what was left for as long as I could. But on Monday my company had our Holiday party in which we had free food and an open bar. The open bar had Dogfishhead 60 Minute. On draft. For free. And as much whiskey as I could drink. One word:
HAMMERED.
I don't remember what is in my hand. I thought it was beer. I guess I was mistaken.
Anyway, somewhere along the lines, my already failing computer took it's last straw and broke. It was already on its way out so instead of saving some dough for my vacation to Humboldt this summer, I had to buy a new one. There goes another month's rent. Then the prices of plane tickets began to rise, forcing my hand and causing me to buy tickets now instead of waiting until March like I had hoped. So now I'm broke.
Anyway, that's how my 2013 is going. I look forward to seeing my friends and family in May, but until now I'll try to stay alive. This is really just a taste of my misfortune so far. There's some good stuff too. My classes are going well. I think. Lots of reading. Anyway. I'l stop now. Happy February. And 2013
I love tattoos. They're expensive, but really cool. I love the art style, I love the symbolism, I love almost everything about them. The first tattoo I got back on the first day of the 40th Reunion was of my own design. I forgot how much fun I had designing tattoos and putting stories into images until I heard a new song by the Boston band Dropkick Murphys from their new album coming out in January called Signed and Sealed in Blood. The song is called "Rose Tattoo" and before I explain the rest you should watch the video. I'll wait.
It's so awesome! I've been listening to this virtually non stop for days now. Its lyrics brought back inspiration when I thought I was finished with drawing and wouldn't pick up my pencil again for anything but historical research. I think God knew this was coming because a few days before I found this song my mom sent me a package with a drawing tablet and a pack of my favorite pencils: Dixon Ticonderoga black number 2s. Then I heard this song and remembered how much I love drawing tattoos. Many of the lyrics spoke out to me and I decided to design tattoos for different parts/people in my life. The lyrics that inspired the tattoo I want your input on is the one that go:
this one's for the man that raised me
taught me sacrifice and bravery
and
this one's for my family name
with pride I'll wear it to the grave
I grew up in a small town of 8,000 people, a county of 30,000. I only knew one guy who was Irish, and I only assumed I was Irish. My family has been in America since before the Revolution, and though Hale is an Irish name, and I have an Irish temper, and I have red hair in my beard, and I like whiskey, and I love mandolin and bagpipes, I never had any real proof of my heritage. When I moved to Boston, I had a Boston Irish coworker recognize me as being Irish and confirm that I fit the profile to a T. I can't even begin to explain how cool that was. Hence the Celtic/Boston theme of the tattoo.
There are two men in my life whom I consider to have raised me. Growing up, my dad was never around much so it fell to my big brother Eric and my Pastor Larry to teach me morals and impart wisdom onto the confused and angry kid that I was. I chose the Celtic Cross for Larry, and the words around the edge for Eric. The cross as a compass and the points are for both of them.
When I left Humboldt, Eric gave me a little black Moleskine guidebook of Boston. I carry this with me everywhere, and even though I don't need it as much as I did, it has helped me find places I wouldn't have otherwise been able to get to. In the very front of the book he wrote a Celtic blessing that I placed around the edge of the cross. It goes something like this:
May the Everlasting Father Shield You
East and West Wherever You Go
In the last conversation I had with Larry, he reminded me to remember that God led me here and to continue using him as a compass when times got tough. I almost forgot that a number of times, but I had help remembering. Because of Eric's blessing, and Larry's words, I wanted to make the cross as a compass with the four directions. The cross is the Everlasting Father as my compass and Shield, and the four points for east and west wherever you go. The letters of the compass are written in the font of the Boston Red Sox. I chose this font for several reasons. One is the color. I want the whole thing to be black except for the NSEW and the rose in the middle, all of which will be red. Another is implied in the lyric
taught me sacrifice and bravery.
Moving to Boston took the most courage and required more sacrifice than anything at this point in my life. I could not have done it without the encouragement and the lessons of sacrifice and bravery I learned from Eric and Larry.
The rose in the middle is a tribute to the song that inspired me. Plus, I really like tattoo roses and finally found a way to get one without it looking weird or feminine.
So here it is, as done as it's going to get for now. If anyone has any suggestions, please feel free to send them to me.
So here it is: late December 2012. I have been in Boston for five and a half months, have completed my first semester at the University of Massachusetts, and I have overcome every hurdle along the way. I have learned what I'm made of and I'm a more confident and responsible individual than the scared kid that left California back in July. I have two jobs, a home, and a 3.5 GPA. For all the progress I've made, though, I would not have been able to go through with it were it not for the support of my friends and family.
First off I'd like to thank Kathy. Despite the direction our relationship has taken in recent months, when I first came to Boston, she was extremely supportive when I was stressing out about where to live and how I was going to eat.
Next I'd like to mention my big brother Eric, who knows me well enough to use the precise key words at the exact right moment to keep me going when I was ready to come home and call it quits. It was through his urging me to keep living my American Dream and stay in Boston for at least a year that gave me the renewed energy to find housing right when I was ready to give up.
Thirdly I would like to throw a huge, gigantic, enormous THANK YOU out to my good friend, one of the best I know, Megan McTavish, who helped me find strength in God and the Bible when I was at my weakest, and who reminded me to find enjoyment in my new life in Boston and loosen my death grip on what I left behind. Without her, I'd still be desperately homesick and counting down the days until I could go back to Humboldt. Instead, I'm loving my life and my pursuits out here, and though I do miss friends and family back home, I know I made the right decision to follow my dream and come to Boston.
Last to be mentioned before I call it a night/morning, but certainly not the least, is Chris and Melinda. It's getting cold here in Boston, tomorrow we're supposed to have a snow storm, and these guys sent me a scarf and a pair of long johns to keep me warm this winter. I'd never been so happy to get underwear for Christmas in my entire life!
I know I didn't mention half of you, and the half I did mention didn't get half of what you deserve, but I hope that all my friends who may see this know that I would not be the success that I am were it not for your love and support. I hope to see you guys someday soon. Until then, thank you, and I look forward to making you all proud.
I've been putting this off all day. I was inspired when I woke up, but what I wanted to reference wasn't near by, so I started watching Mad Men. Then I went to go get pizza and watch more Mad Men. Then I called my family after I finished all the seasons of Mad Men currently available on Netflix. Then I drank some water and read some history of some Dropkick Murphys songs, and now I'm inspired to write this again. There is less than 30 minutes left of Thanksgiving left in Boston. I plan on making it worth it.
Last night at work, one of the bouncers commented that he didn't understand why it was socially unacceptable for someone to dress up as Hitler for Halloween. Don't get me wrong, he understood that Hitler was a maniac that committed unforgivable genocide. But his question was, "why is it okay if I dress up as a pilgrim, but not Adolf Hitler?" That's a very good question, really. The simple answer is that Nazi Germany, and Hitler, were defeated by a more "enlightened" and "civilized" world (we're neither of those things, by the way, but that's a whole other essay). It's true that within fifty years of first contact, over ninety percent of the indigenous population of New England died, largely at the hands of the European invaders. The story of the first Thanksgiving is a story that began with a standoff. The Wampanoag society had suffered from some great calamity, probably disease (this portion is taken from Charles C. Mann's 1491. He doesn't specify the nature of the calamity), and was under threat of annihilation by their rival nation to the west, the Narragansett. When the Wampanoag sachem (political/military leader) Massasoit revealed his strength to the Puritans, they ran to their fortifications in which they had cannon installed. A series of negotiations ensued, in which Massasoit utilized his English translator Tisquantum (commonly called Squanto) and struck an alliance with the Puritans that would deter the Narragansett Nation from wiping out the Wampanoag. Though this alliance insured the immediate survival of the Wampanoag, it also insured the survival of the Plymouth Colony as a foothold for further British settlement in the region, which would lead to further genocide, and eventually through a series of taxes and a war or two, the United States of America, which, from day one was out to punish the indigenous peoples (ask me about the Cherokee after the Revolution).
Now, back to my original intro about my coworker and Hitler. Yes, Hitler lost, and he was a horrible person that is thankfully rotting in Hell. But do you know where he got the model for his Final Solution? United States President Andrew Jackson and his Indian Removal Policy. The Reservation programs and removal acts all set the foundation and model for Adolf Hitler to exterminate the Jewish people in Europe. That's our legacy, folks. One of our Presidents inspired one of the world's most sadistic madmen. Go us. So here's something I'm thankful for on this Thanksgiving 2012: our schools are teaching these things now. The classical narrative of the Kindly Indian and Thankful Puritans is fading, and the cold, hard, painful reality is sinking in. I love my country, and I am proud as hell to be an American. But we're not perfect. We aren't the greatest country in the world. In fact, we're far from it. But knowing that is what's going to save us and make us better. I'm thankful to be an American, and I hope you all are too. I'm thankful for you guys and all of your support.
Lately I've been having an issue with motivation. It's getting colder here in Massachusetts, and the colder it gets, the less I want to get out from under my warm blankets in the morning. Whether it's going to work or school, I find that a little bit of music to pump me up gives me the boost that I need to start my day and keep it going for the duration. Since I'm in Boston, it seems only fitting that I go for one of my favorite bands of all time: The Dropkick Murphys.
Their album Going Out in Style is easily their best album so far. It's energetic, motivating, and at the risk or over using a word that has invaded our vernacular in recent years: it's pretty damn EPIC. There isn't a bad song on the whole album. From the rowdy, vengeance-fueled "Hang 'em High" to the slow and sweet "1953" this album has kept me going for weeks, maybe even months. It's not only my favorite album by DKM, it's one of my favorite albums of all time, and I can't wait for Signed and Sealed in Blood to be released this January.
I've always said I was Irish. I never knew it for certain, but in lieu of any other cultural identity, Irish seemed the most likely for me. Hale is a surname that originates from the British Isles, with roots in Celtic tradition. I have red hair in my beard, alluding to a recessive gene to a lost hair color that is dominant in Irish families. I have anger issues that I've been suppressing since childhood. And last but certainly not least, I like my whiskey. It all made sense to me, but when it came right down to it, I wasn't sure. My family has been here since America were British Colonies, and I have not hard evidence to illuminate my cultural lineage, and in 300 years, it's likely that I really do have a little of everything. As such I always just claimed to be an American of European descent. But when I moved to Boston and started work at an Irish Pub, that all changed.
One of my coworkers, himself a Boston Irish, immediately recognized me as being Irish based on my looks and actions. I was amazed. And kind of ecstatic. Here I'd had assumptions based on my heritage that were confirmed by a nearly complete stranger. I suddenly felt as if everything fell into place and I could embrace my issues rather than repress them further. I'm not saying that I'm going to go start a brawl or carry around a knife in my pocket just because I got recognized as Irish by a Bostonian. Nor am I going to start spending all my tips on whiskey and beer. But I feel like I am becoming more aware of myself and who I really am and I'm feeling better for it. I still feel weird saying I'm Irish out loud. I think that I fit into a plethora of categories in our American culture and claiming just one isn't fair to me or my family's history. My grandpa came from Missouri and played blue grass music. I was born in the South. I got told by my manager that I would fit right in at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert when having a conversation about how quickly some of the other bouncers would get jumped by the Skynyrd crowd.
I guess what I'm saying is that working at the Lansdowne Pub has helped me realize some things about myself and embrace more of who I am. When I come back to California I will be a stronger, harder, more confident person. I may get in some fights along the way. I will probably make some bad life choices. But I won't regret them. I love my job, and I love the guys I work with. I sent Veterans' Day with a Marine that works with me. I get bought drinks by my managers. I have long talks with the bouncers where we swap stories for hours while it's slow. It's a slow process, but I'm embracing my life here in Boston, and it's going to change me for the better.
It's been almost a month since my last post. Life got a little bit busy, both in my personal life and my academic life. But I've had a productive yet frustrating day today so I thought I would sit down for a little while and write an update about my life.
Currently my life is busy, but mostly good. My work study may be ending for the semester, or I may be able to keep working until my whole year's worth of funding is exhausted. I hope the latter is true, because it would be nice to have that little extra to help me survive until my Spring semester financial aid check, which SHOULD be significantly more than the $16 I received this semester. I don't have the ridiculous new student fees or health insurance fee to pay, so that should be quite a significant chunk of change to help me survive. I just have to get there. But I'm not too worried, between tips and saying yes to everything my bosses at the pub ask of me, I should be able to save the money necessary for two months of rent. I just can't afford pizza or beer or whiskey anymore (which I REALLY want some whiskey....it's Boston, after all). Also, Math is giving me a really hard time. I was understanding the reasoning before we started using spread sheets, and now I feel like I can only get the correct result half the time, and never when I'm outside of the class room. It's something that I want to be somewhat skilled at because it's useful reasoning that I can use when looking at lists and charts when studying history. The final down side to my life as it stands right now is that I'm constantly lonely. I'm beginning to make friends, but right now they are slightly more than acquaintances, and I'm not sure which ones will survive past this semester. I miss being in a band, and I miss partying with my friends. I miss feeling loved and welcome wherever I went. I know that this loneliness will fade in time, likely by the middle of next semester, but it's currently something I have to deal with on a virtual daily basis. But lately I have been having my days where I look out the window and I know that there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
The Boston Harbor Islands are gorgeous in the fall. Reds, yellows, oranges, browns.....the colors are splendid. The air is crisp and cool and the sunsets are magnificent. I look out the window or stand outside and look over the horizon to see all the colors and I know that I made the right choice and I feel as if I never want to leave New England. The history, the weather, the colors....I love everything this region has to offer. I could make a life here eventually, but it'll take time and money. Mostly it will take friends and mobility. There's only so far I can go by T or commuter rail and I don't really want to buy a car at the moment. I've been losing a lot of weight and I want to keep it down. Having a car would cause all of that progress to begin reversing and I'm not comfortable with that idea.
I'm getting ahead of myself. I've only been in Boston for three and a half months. I'm at the transition between leaving my old life behind and fully embracing my new home. There's a lot out of this experience that I want and I'm not going to go back to California until I'm satisfied with the idea that I've gotten as much as I could out of the East Coast. I met with my advisor today and discussed my options for graduating with honors, travelling abroad, and grad school requirements. I am more or less satisfied with my course schedule for next semester, though it will again be demanding. Such is the life of a history major. As long as I pass math this semester I will be on track for a splendid GPA and I can begin the application process for my Semester at Sea, in which I will circumnavigate the world crossing both the International Dateline AND the Equator, visit five continents and twelve countries, travel overland from Yokohama to Kobe, Japan and Shanghai to Hong Kong, China. I have a lot of grand experiences ahead of me and I can't wait to live them. My life and plans will be in constant process for a while, so I can't tell with much certainty if or when I'll come back for good. But I will always visit the ones I love and I look forward to seeing the ones that love me come to visit me as well.
I'm now running out of things to talk about so I'm going to end by posting what my current desired schedule for next semester is, along with a current picture of me looking awesome.
English 262G - The Art of Literature
History 395 - The History of Boston
History 396 - America's Favorite Passtime: the History of Baseball
History 361L - The History of Modern China
I have to choose one more course, but it depends on a number of factors that have yet to be determined.
I have yet to weigh myself, but those are the smallest pants I've been able to wear in a decade
