Wednesday, September 23, 2009 | by nathan

Now Embarrassing Myself INTERNATIONALLY

I wrote about this page once before; it’s a page from the journal I kept while I was in the tenth grade, and DEAR LORD, every time I read it it makes me physically curl up into a ball. Just looking at the dazzling array of stamped markers alongside the cows named "Madonna" and "Moesha," all while wondering whether or not I could probably be a homosexual, but probably not, and anyway, it’ll all sort itself out within a few days – well, it all kinda speaks for itself as to the kind of unself-conscious teenager I was, but I think it bears repeating that I had exactly NO ONE in my high school fooled, with the exception of myself.

So I read this entry at last year’s Tulsa "Cringe" reading, arranged by the amazing Sarah Brown, who turned the series, which she started at a bar in Brooklyn in 2005, into a book that was released last year. I fumbled around forever for something to submit to the book, ignoring this particular journal because I honest to God thought there wasn’t anything in it except boring lists of what I’d done that day. Seriously – I thought this was the boring one of my journals, and I skipped it entirely.

Then the book came out, and I gave it another read. I came across this entry and knew I had to take it to Tulsa for the reading.

Not to toot my own horn here, but it killed.

So then Sarah got a deal to do a version of the Cringe book for the U.K., and once again submissions were open. This time, I was ready, and wouldn’tcha know? I’m in the book not once, but twice. If you’re a UK dweller, or you’re a USian who’s willing to pay a little extra for postage, you absolutely should order a copy.

Okay, so here’s the thing. I admit it’s hugely embarrassing to put my teenage self out there like this, but I like to think he’d think it was fucking cool that 29-year-old him got in a book in the U.K. At any rate, I think it’s cool and he has no say in the matter. And frankly, this is what he gets for being such a little weirdo. As it is, I’m pretty proud of myself for this. As Sarah is fond of saying about the Cringe series, it’s better than therapy.

So the book is profiled in today’s edition of the Times; the article is available at the Times website. My friend Alma is sending me paper copies, which is super sweet of her.

The whole thing is pretty surreal, but very cool. Unfortunately I won’t be able to make it to the book launch in London, but I’ll be there in spirit.

The Adventures of Teenage Nathan, Writer

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Wednesday, January 7, 2009 | by nathan

On A Boat In The Adriatic Sea

In the fall of 2000 I somehow lucked out and got to spend four months living in a giant villa on the Grand Canal in Venice, Italy. I’d spent the two months prior kicking around Ireland doing some work for the Lord, and by the time I arrived in Venice I felt like an old salt, with my bright yellow duffel bag filled to the gills with everything I’d need for weekends on the train and kicking around southern Europe.

The house hosted about 20 students and a professor every semester, and the sala was filled with these old journals that every member of every class had signed at the end of their tenure. A few weeks ago one of my former Venice-mates sent me a Facebook message that the Wake Forest library had taken the journals and scanned them into .pdf files and placed them on their website.

I had such mixed feelings finding these old words, which I didn’t entirely think I’d ever see again, or at least, not this unexpectedly. That semester was such an important turning point in my life, and not in the way that people talk about when they tell you about their semesters abroad. I was challenged and afraid and scared at every turn, but so proud of myself for having made this dream come true. I was poor, and I hated it, but I also felt sorry for some of the people I knew who went abroad and for whom the adventure was dulled by an overabundance of money; after all, there’s no way to enjoy a foreign landscape except by worrying that you might be stranded there for the rest of your life.

So much changed for me this semester; I’m a person who processes things when he’s alone and away from them, and in Italy I basically had 4 months to process my entire adolescence, which was ending. It was difficult, but it was amazing. I’m still grateful for that time.

Some of the specific things I reference in the letter are stories and posts in themselves; I’ll remember to tell you sometime about Mauro.

It made me happy to read these words, even if I did cringe a bit at the poor writing and even more at the haircut (or lack of said). A week after this I buzzed off my hair, and while I’d forgotten that I used to sign all correspondence with Romans 8.38-39, I totally did.

On The Road, The Adventures of Teenage Nathan

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Friday, December 26, 2008 | by nathan

“So What In the HELL Am I Going To Do?”

I think my favorite thing about going back through my old journals in preparation for Tulsa Cringe has been getting to see just how much perspective I’ve gained in the last, oh, 13 years or so. It cracks me up to think I was ever afraid of running for Westmoore Student Council; like, really? I was scared of, what? Exactly?

I do remember this, though I have to strain. I’d discovered the autumn before this that there were colleges outside of Oklahoma, and that you had to have a kick-ass record to get in. My grades were fine, but not my extracurriculars. So when I saw that there was going to be this election, and that no one had signed up to run for one of the spots, I thought, "Ka-ching!" I filled out all the paperwork – my hand was shaking the whole time because AM I REALLY GOING TO DO THIS? – and when I went to turn it in I saw that this POM GIRL had signed up to run. Hence the "What the HELL am I going to do?"

I wasn’t really concerned with popularity – something I do like about my teenage self – but I was pragmatic enough to know I couldn’t win against someone who didn’t have, ah, the best reputation, and who was going out with a dude who started for the football team and who everyone knew had spent the previous summer working as an extra in Twister. I couldn’t compete with the girlfriend of someone who had personally met Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton; I decided instead to run for junior class office, which I lost.

As I recall, Kristi Blackburn lost as well, though I have no idea to whom, and I did end up on Student Council senior year, though mostly through a prolonged campaign of being as obsequious and persistent as possible, and also by being appointed and not elected. My teachers loved me far more than my fellow students ever did, and I was damned to hell if I was going to college in state, you understand.

I really like my teenage self here, actually, though in a way where I want to take him aside, give him his first beer, and say, "Here’s why you’re freaking out about nothing." But it wouldn’t be adolesence if every challenge wasn’t Mount Everest and I handled every situation with a complete and total lack of perspective.

The Adventures of Teenage Nathan

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Wednesday, December 17, 2008 | by nathan

Ass-Kissing No More

Another page from a teenaged poetry journal; this is one of my favorite pieces of teenage me, because between ages 14-17 I really did consider myself a "serious poet." I even used the words "serious poetry career" several times in said journals. I listened with rapt attention every time we studied poetry in English class, learning techniques and word flourishes used by all The Greats (except for Emily Dickinson, whom I still hate). This poem, however, was a complete depature from my carefully-wrought form, and, with a title that sounds like it was proposed by Yoda, seems to really forcefully delinate the same policy against ass-kissing that I still hold to this day. More or less.

I think the thing I miss the least about being a teenager is these hormonal rages, this moodiness that was always catching me completely unawares. When I was that age I was completely unprepared for the emotional roller coaster that was being an adolescent male and, like any teen, thought that what I was FEELING was LIFE. I never stopped to question whether this LIFE was just my body getting much bigger and more unweildy very suddenly and having all these things it suddenly wanted to do that had almost nothing to do with what I was thinking about or dealing with at the time.

This all comes to mind because of late I’ve been in a weird emotional place, and now, unlike then, I find I can step back and ask myself what is going on; I have learned, in thirteen years since I vowed, as God was my witness, I would never kiss ass again (I’m sure I reneged at some point), that sometimes what I’m feeling, emotionally, has much, much less to do with what’s actually going on than with any number of other factors. Of late I haven’t had time or motivation to go to the gym, and I’ve been eating a lot of crappy food, and I have two relatives in hospitals who are both in really critical condition and I was so looking forward to the holidays and, with the exception of Saturday night’s Christmas party the season has really been a disappointment. I can step away from all that, and examine it, and write about it; I guess you could say that in thirteen years since I wrote this poem, I’ve gained some perspective. My problems aren’t all that bad, the world isn’t ending, and I am not utterly, utterly alone. Look at me growing.

I know some adults, people twice my age and more, who have yet to figure this out.

Incidentally, I have no freaking clue who this poem was about. There are any number of candidates, but frankly it’s a situation so far gone that it merits no investigation whatsoever. Whoever they are I sure hope they found someone to kiss their ass; it seems I was done.

The Adventures of Teenage Nathan

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Saturday, December 13, 2008 | by nathan

“Maybe I’ll Be Clear By The End of the Week!”

Looking for a good Christmas present for someone? I’d highly recommend Sarah Brown’s book Cringe: Teenage Diaries, Journals, Notes, Letters, Poems and Abandoned Rock Operas. Because I am addicted to Sarah’s website, I saw her call for submissions, but was quickly stymied when looking for something to send her, as I found my teenage self pretty tiresome and couldn’t scour through my teenage journals and poetry books (of which there are, literally, dozens) long enough to find anything good. Finally, I sorta chickened out or gave up or whatever.

The book came out and I loved it. Then Sarah, a fellow Okie, announced she was setting up a hometown edition of the "Cringe" reading series in Tulsa, and I volunteered quickly before I could wuss out.

Whoops; I have now spent HOURS going through my old journals and poetry books. Man, you want to talk about things that will make you physically recoil. I read this, and I just want to physically shake my 15-year-old self. I basically think this speaks for itself, but I couldn’t resist throwing some commentary in below.

Sunday                                                                                                                                    17 March 1996

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I got some new stamp markers, as you may be able to tell. I got a set with a new design, and I got a set like Karen’s, which I have borrowed before to decorate this journal, like on March 3rd.*

Well, while Spring Break hasn’t officially started, I’m resting up anyway. Dad bought the house across the street from his land in Arkansas, and I’m helping him start that grueling moving process.

I know it seems like regression, or simple confusion, but I’m starting to feel something more than acquaintence for Jarrett.** I don’t know what it is – homosexual attraction? All I know is that: 1.) I’m not feeling it much for Ashlee any more, and 2.) I really like Jarrett, in more ways than one. I am very confused. Extremely.

"Every time I look at you I Go Blind."

I’ve been listening to the "Friends" soundtrack, and in songs like "I Go Blind," by Hootie and the Blowfish, "Good Intentions" by Toad the Wet Sprocket, and especially "Sexuality" by K.D. Lang*** I find my feelings about Jarrett and homosexuality in general mirrored. I wish one of these damn markers was a question mark. I’d decorate the whole damn page with it. Maybe I’ll be clear by the end of the week!

Anyway –

Dad has bought some calves, and while the side of me that’s "citified" finds them incredibly stupid, a large part of me finds them cute****. I even named a few. There’s Madonna, the bitchy one, and Moesha, the one with an attitude.*****

The End

*As I recall, I decorated an entry about my cousin’s death, which had happened two years earlier, in a similar fashion as this one. Not sure I knew the word "appropriate" then.

**He, a senior, football player, really attractive yet goofy guy. I sometimes still see him at karaoke bars, but to be honest, I’d completely forgotten ever finding him attractive.

***I still stand by each of these songs/acts and the soundtrack album wherein I found them, though not so much the show that produced that.

****This was before I had to help "work" them, which basically involves shoving worm pills up their butts and catching their newly-castrated balls in a bucket. Not so cute then.

*****Naming calves after Madonna and Moesha, and yet wondering if I could maybe, possibly be a homosexual, but probably not, and anyway, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to get it all figured out. This is the kind of denial that …. you know, I honestly got nothing here.

Heaux-Meaux, The Adventures of Teenage Nathan

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