4:44 in Phoenix

I find myself eternally conflicted. I live in a colorful world, filled with different and decadent shades of grey -- interpretive off-shoots of the traditional black and white.

Unfortunately, I'm color blind in my left eye.

It sees the back room deals made in the darkest alleys cutting through the deepest recesses of our minds. It sees the criminally insane in all of us. The perpetual struggle of a line drawn in the sand that humanity named morality. It is the judge and the jury. Black is black and white is white. Hope is dead. Loyalty is relative. Digression is retrogression, and both are fatal to the potential progression possessed by us in those choice moments where we are at our best. If we trip or stumble, then we lose the right to run. If you are not perfect, you deserve nothing. You get nothing. You failed.

But my right eye. It sees brilliance all around. It writes a myriad of love songs and beholds the benevolence of getting lost in a strange town. It longs to find the melody in a kiss. Taste a lifetime in the first touch of destined lovers. It understands the value of courage and truth, and wishes to stare down mortality until it bends. Because we are just mortals, and we are perfect in our imperfection. Hope is an ideal, and one worth dying for. Loyalties are valued above all else and make a man who he is to become.

Such is the duality of my mind. It will be your most lenient critic and your greatest advocate. It will love you fiercely and stand by your side as long as you haven't scarred it.
If you have, it will be your greatest critic and your harshest antagonist.
That's the truth.

Does it make me a terrible person? I don't know. I do know it gives me a headache. And it makes me feel horrible.

It has convinced me, however, that those who don't live in the past have a short memory span. And those that do have long term memory loss.

The past is beautiful if you forget the bad. But it is devastating if you can't remember the good.

This life is a delicate balance of past, present and future. You cannot live in only one. You cannot see solely in black and white or in technicolor. You cannot be loyal to a false hope and call it progress.

We are the products of a gold star education. A generation raised by the internet. We are impulsive because we were taught that it was okay by the dotcom's of the 90's. And now, the sins of the fathers are being visited upon the children. Seth and Cain must suffer for Adams transgression.

We are inherently indecisive and irrevocably impotent.

We hide behind the mask of political correctness.


And we deserve every hit this life is going to give us.

Parental Units

"Why are you so whiny on your blog?"

One of the many comments Unk (aka my Father) decided to throw my way regarding the most recent post.

For anyone else who thinks that Unk was right, that's not at all the way I meant it. The little rant at the end of the monologue on up and down relationships was just my way of showing what I was/am excited for in a future relationship and a way of pulling out the best lessons learned with my previous girlfriends. If it was seen as anything more, my apologies. It was not intended as such.

But this brings up an interesting point. My relationship with my father.

A few of my friends are lucky enough to see our relationship. They think our candidness is awesome, and they can't help but laugh when they hear us talk to each other or interact. And I think that that showmanship is actually a huge part of who we are.

But here's a little fact that I don't always think is abundantly clear.

I respect the hell out of my old man.

I've been living more or less at home for the last 6-8 months. And I'll be honest. It's kinda hard. But its been quite a bit of fun as well. Most of all, its been enlightening. I've gotten to see my parents as I've never seen them before. You see, I moved out 6 years ago. Since that time I spent maybe a total of 4 or 5 months at home. This isn't unusual for college students.

When I moved out, I immediately grew closer with my parents. My mom learned to text and it has been the biggest blessing to our relationship. Except for when she forgets her phone. So every other day. And Unk refuses to learn how to text. So he usually calls me a couple times a day. Which I've come to realize I really enjoy.

Though I'm working on being my own man, I hope to be able to carry on the Arnett honor that my dad exemplifies. He took the torch from my grandfather, Howard Marshall, and continued running. If I turn out to live and love and influence half as well as those two men, I will have a happy and fulfilled life. Of that I have no doubt.

So, even if some of the things they do and say get on my nerves/annoy me, the fact of the matter is they love me and I love them. I know they always have my back, and I have theirs.

So this ones for you parental units. I love ya. Sorry for raising as much hell as I can and shortening your lives.

Why I'm excited to be in love.

Ya, that's right. I'm excited to find someone to love. I'm a young 20-something male (last time I checked) and I think I have a serious problem. Every once in a while I get on chick blogs. You know the kind. They talk about arts and crafts and marriage. In fact, sometimes I find myself stalking the young and in love blogs. Or the funny, young and dating blogs. Or the previously divorced and in love blogs. (One of my secret favorites. These two are pretty incredible.) The ones that actual married couples write about being married. Which is so un-manly in its entirety. But I do it. Because I love love. I do.

However, I have a problem with the whole process. And a few of my own ideas of why so many of these little relationships are doomed to failure before they start. It's because of codependency. What is codependency you ask?

Well look at Romeo and Juliet.

Its the perfect example. Two people who place so much importance on being together that it takes precedence over their own well being. That is entirely unhealthy. Also, those kids were like 14 and 17. In my not so humble opinion, those two were addicted to the drama of their relationship. "Star-crossed lovers"? Bull. They were two rebellious kids trying to find a way to lash out. But that's just me.

But here's a bigger problem. I see people my age (ca. 24) doing the exact same thing. Being crazy. Not to be confused with crazy in love. Just straight up crazy. I have several friends (that's right, not just one) who are in completely unstable relationships. When they fight it literally sounds like World War 3. And when their done, the room looks like it was nuked. Love should not be a terrorist.

Look at the little graphic I made. Too many relationships I see are like this. I know that relationships are a roller coaster. I get that. Its not always going to be daises, long walks on the beach and listening to the latest musings of gossip girl. But a relationship should not be that up and down.

I had a buddy who said, "Yeah, we fight a bit. Okay a lot. And yeah, they can be pretty bad. But the good times are really good."

I get that. I've been there, to be honest. But its about minimizing the roller coaster. Find a happy medium and stay there. There will be hiccups, I'm not ignorant of that. But look... if its always up and down, something is not right. It really doesn't matter how bad you want it to work. Its not healthy.

I had another dear friend who related her story to me. She said that her road to marriage seemed like it was one fight after the other. The engagement was the worst. It seemed as if they were fighting about everything. When I asked her why she stuck with it and stayed on the path to marriage she said she prayed about it and felt that her answer was yes. She just knew they were meant to be married.

She's now divorced.

(This girl is drop dead gorgeous, extremely intelligent, and a spiritual powerhouse so I won't attack her judgement call on this one. However, I think that this general issue must be addressed at some point. I believe that far too often individuals get the Spirit mixed with their own personal feelings of love and often mix the signals. Just because you want it to work out and have prayed about it DOES NOT mean that your work is done. Your continued warm feelings towards that individual does not constitute Gods answer to your prayers. But that's another post for another day my friends.)

The solution to this whole thing is what I call intradependency. Not to be confused with interdependency. In my mind, the term 'intra' refers to a much more intimate relationship. And I don't mean sexual. The best relationships I've seen are when two people know who they are and what they want out of life and meld the two together. Their lives are then the beautiful ugly sweater of hopes and dreams that they knit themselves.

That's what I want. And its why I'm excited to be in love.

I can't wait to come home from my day and get to share it with the girl I love. I can't wait to hear about her day. I can't wait to develop a genuine interest in whatever it is that her life revolves around. I can't wait to be forced (let's be honest, I probably won't be forced) to watch chick shows. I can't wait to randomly show up to her place of employment with her favorite variation of a Cafe Rio salad. I can't wait to wake up to her kiss. I can't wait to plan vacations with her and our friends. I can't wait to have random adventures with her. I can't wait to hear her real laugh, not just the one she gives everyone else. I can't wait to look in her eyes and be able to see that she loves me. I can't wait for that rush of heat when I think of her. I can't wait to have conversations late into the night about why cheer-leading is or isn't a sport. I can't wait to give random gestures of romantic grandeur. I can't wait to tell her she doesn't look fat in those jeans. I can't wait to have a consistent date to plays and musicals. I can't wait to get overly excited about my non-profit and entrepreneurial business ventures and have someone that I can talk to about it. I can't wait to have a personal cheer section at my sporting events. I can't wait to hate her new haircut or color but say it looks great. I can't wait to feel her hand slide into mine when we're walking at the mall. I can't wait to photo bomb every cute picture she tries to take of us. I can't wait to be forced to try hot yoga. That's a lie. I can't wait to take her sailing and show her my hobbies. I can't wait to support her little blog about us. I can't wait to have my expectations blown out of the water when I meet her. I can't wait to buy her things. I can't wait to be her shoulder to cry on. I can't wait to be the one she turns to when she's scared or insecure. I can't wait to tease her. I can't wait to see her determination to finish something she's started. I can't wait to remember her favorite color and ice cream. I can't wait to know her favorite books and movies. I can't wait to send her off with her girlfriends and wait to hear about the reasons why she's glad she's not single when she gets back. I can't wait to feel the jealousy and simultaneous approval of all my friends when they see how good we are together. I can't wait for a reason outside of myself to be motivated. I can't wait to tell people how we met. I can't wait for her and my mom to become best friends. I can't wait to be surprised by learning something new after I think I know everything about her. I can't wait to live to see her smile. I can't wait to challenge her to a thumb war to see who does the dishes then helping her anyway. I can't wait to find the girl that becomes my perfect 10.

I can't wait to make her proud. I can't wait to protect and provide for her. I can't wait to finally feel at home when I'm next to her.

I can't wait to be in love.