The past 24 hours of my life have been a Wes Anderson film

And by that, I mean Wednesday evening up through Thursday evening.



Um...yes. Where to begin? This is a difficult process for a number of reasons. I feel like I need to explain about 9 months of character "back story" for this to make the tinniest bit of sense. I guess I'm referring to Wes Anderson films because this past day has been a definite "human journey" for me. In fact, I would dare to say May 13-14, 2009 has been one of the most defining moments of this year. I recently saw "The Darjeeling Limited" -- and certain images of Adrian Brody, Owen Wilson, and that other guy were definitely flashing across my mind today. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, but was kinda sad at the end because the three brothers ended up in the same situation they started in -- the only difference is they have a better attitude about it. Well, I haven't reached that part yet -- that is if this "journey" follows a similar script. But it's life -- so you can bet it won't.

Well, I guess the best thing to do is just to chronologically go through everything.

Wednesday started off fine, but sadly my grandfather had passed away from Alzheimer's on Monday. I heard the news that things weren't looking good late last week. My father told me he would be surprised to see him make it through the next week. Thus said, we were as prepared as you can be for a death in the family. His battle with Alzheimer's had been hard on all of us, so in many ways, this was a release for everyone. He lived a long and happy life, but unfortunately it was cut short by this disease.

So the funeral was scheduled for Thursday -- the day I was suppose to give my speech to my interpersonal communication class. Thankfully, my professor isn't actually a professor -- she's a guidance counselor. That said, I'm pretty sure she thought I came into her office seeking comfort or even a shoulder to cry on. She has the reputation of being a very "motherly" professor/counselor and was totally fine with letting me reschedule my speech.

Now back to Wednesday. On Wednesdays I have an evening class that meets once a week. Because of that, we meet for a grand total of 3 hours every Wednesday night from 6-9. It would be the longest 3 hours of my week if it wasn't my favorite class. Layout and Design -- the closest I'll probably ever get to being a graphic design artist. Early in the week I had heard news of a little shin-dig that was going down off-campus at a friend's house -- just a small (and free) concert with a couple bands playing. I figured I'd go after class even though Wednesday night was the night I had to drive back home for Thursday's funeral. Better yet, a girl I had gotten to know decently well over our spring break missions trip had mentioned to me she wanted to go. I called her before class asking if she wanted a ride. She didn't -- she was getting a ride with some girlfriends. Okay -- fair enough, but about half-way through class my phone buzzes -- it's her and she got left behind by her friends. Sweet.


Sidenote: I use to have the biggest thing for Natalie Portman. Not gonna lie, I kinda wish I was in some exotic locale with her. With a mustache too...

The only problem is I'm still in class and that concert starts soon. But lo and behold, I find out my friend's band is playing at the concert and two of the members happen to be in my class. The concert obviously can't start until they get there. And right as I'm processing all this information, our prof lets class out early. It was almost as if God decided on a whim to let everything fall into place at the last minute. My two buddies tell me their band is playing in about 40 minutes -- plenty of time to call her up, offer her a ride, and get over there.

Things continued to fall into place -- almost in a surreal, movie script way. Seriously, if I was to meet Bill Murry along the way, I wouldn't have been surprised. She still wanted to go to the concert and was totally down with me giving her a ride. And all the while, my thoughts were not on the long drive ahead of me to get back home and definitely not on tomorrow's funeral. Screw it -- tonight I'm partying. Sorrow and grief would be met with tomorrow.

This house concert/dance party was rad in every sense of the word. I truly wish there were more of these in high school instead of those worthless basement snuggle-fests.

(This story is going to conclude in another post, so stay tuned.)