First Entry (Part Two)

This is the second part of the first entry which actually makes it the second entry of my new blog system but in the real universe that everyone actually exists in, this is just entry 1.2! Personally, I find this amusing enough to hold onto my attention for a full five seconds . . . and I’m back. Oh and I’ve got other stuff I want to write about but I think it’s better if I finish one idea slash work before I start another post.

This is the second halve of my personal history, this part is the portion dealing with my life in the United States which I did not include in the story time while I was in Elementary School. The last part of my first half of this story leaves off at when a Christian charitable organization [whose name still escapes me to this damn day] took my family and I out of the war zone that was [and is] Bosnia and brought us over to the United States of America and connected us with a great family to sponsor us and help us get on our feet in the harsh and trying new world we had just entered.

Our plane brought us to Albany [that's pure speculation by the way] where we were processed by the local and federal government and then given our placement in our new home of Rochester where we first met our sponsors. The family was a Turkish family [and due to my lack of any sort of memory as you can clearly tell, their name escapes me] that like us, were Muslim’s. They helped us by not only buying us clothing, food, and giving us a roof over our head but by also helping us emotionally from the terrible thing we faced while also helping us find jobs in an area that really didn’t have any use for an uneducated, illiterate, and completely foreign family that had just survived a massacre of near biblical proportions. This man and his family were the second group of people that I had met who proved to me there are decent and whole people in this world and these were the second people that I still remember to this day that I owe with my life and am deeply indebted to.

My story continues on when my family was financially, mentally, and emotionally prepared enough to leave our safe confines of our sponsors home and ventured out into the new world seemingly alone. We got our first piece of property in the United States when we rented our ghetto little apartment in the city of Rochester, a little farther out then our sponsors house. This was a great building, my aunt and her entire family were there too which made it better for my mother and I in the sense we had someone else who was in the same situation as us that could sympathies and could take care of me when my mom went off to work insane hours. This is when my mother found the job she’s been working at for about fifteen years and still works at to this date. We were in this brick faced building in the city for a long time, we survived the hardships that was thrown at us like the constant drug busts and police presents in our area and the ignorance of people about our situation. We didn’t just survive, we thrived, and eventually we finally had enough money and stability in life to move to a much safer neighborhood where my sister and I could get quality educations, this place was Penfield.

Out in Penfield we moved to a very ghetto-ish area called Penbrooke which is where I spent all of my Elementary and Middle school years and sometime in the middle of my Middle school life my mother and I moved to the home we live in now. This part of my life is where I started to make my first true friends in school and in the neighborhood I lived in. In Scribner elementary school I was as normal a kid as anyone else, I had no accent, I had to memories of the war, I was just a normal American kid trying to learn. I eventually started to become extraordinary, I started growing in age, maturity, and intellect right when I got into the sixth grade [at Baytrail Middle School] which was a painful yet nice experience, I grew [at times] four inches a month in height, I had shot up faster than you could imagine.

My life continued on in these years just like everyone else, I tried things and failed at some while some I excelled greatly at. My life really didn’t spark up in interest until I was in Junior year of high school, this is when my friends and I really started doing interesting and stupid things. These times were the best of my life which is a sad thing to think about but it’s the way my life is and I’m not ashamed of it.

This entries finished, you guys know enough about me well, as much as I want to expose to all of you. If any of my friends have any good memories of me they think I should talk about just comment below. My future entries are coming soon and I have plenty of good ideas rattling around my head so be prepared.

First Entry (Part One)

I am pleased to welcome you all to my brand [spanking] new blog. Even though it is the same blog website and blog that I have been writing in for the past two or so years, I still would like to think of this as something completely new and different. I welcome you all again to my first entry.

First, I’d like to start off by saying I planned on writing something quite intelligent and interesting; something that would grab the reader by the collar and pull them [and hopefully, a couple of their friends] in faster than any of them could say, “Abecedarian” [which is a funky word I just found while perusing thought the inter-web]. Sadly, when I began writing, I immediately drew a blank, every thoughtful idea that had come to me in the past few weeks had suddenly vacated; I was just an empty shell, void of any intelligent thoughts just the way I was at the end of my last group of blog entries. It drove me to insanity and I fear I’m already traveling down that road again.

Eventually I’ve noticed that I had a good idea to write on for a first entry, me. There are plenty of people out there who believe that I have had an interesting life, to these people I tell you that you are wrong. I know that while in my childhood at Scribner Road Elementary I told a grand story of how my family and I escaped the clutches of the Serbs who wished us all dead. I know that this story piqued the interest of plenty of people that heard it and they continued to show that interest on into my high school years. I’m sorry to say that this story is not so much an autobiography of the facts I faced as a child but more of a story I told with bits of fact littered across it. I want everyone to know that I did tell the story as I knew it, what happened to us really happened as I told it but what I want to say is that I filled in the blanks that I didn’t know with exaggerations and jokes which didn’t change the story on a whole but still is something that I’d like to get off my chest. I know someone out there feels betrayed and feels that I’ve lied to them well, I want you to know that I haven’t lied to you in any way and there’s no reason to feel betrayed, everything I told you was completely and utterly true so don’t worry about it.

Everyone who wasn’t fortune enough to hear the story of harrowing deeds and pure heroics from my childhood, you guys missed out. It was a tale based on what my mother told me in a series of short stories that I combined into one large one for my schools immigration day. In this grand story I spoke about how my mother solely carried my infant body across a barren war zone which was littered with soldiers, angry militia, and camps all bent on my personal and my people’s destruction. The story began in my home city of Brcko which was on the border of the newly formed Bosnian nation which caused a whole load of problems.

We wandered across the countryside, my sister, my mother, and I, my father decided to stay home for a multitude of reasons. My mother waited until I was older to tell me that my mother forced our family to stay as long as we did because my father was being held in a concentration camp. She believed the old world ideals that a woman was nothing without a man to make the money, buy the land, and all that good stuff. Eventually we left our father behind when he was released from the camp and told us of how he didn’t want to go with us. This is an idea that was rattling around my head for years and years as a child. Why wouldn’t a father want to leave a war ridden country with his family? I always assumed the best of him, he didn’t want to leave out of some nationalistic pride or the fact that he had a bullet in his leg [forgot to mention that, sorry]. I thought about this for ages until my mother told me the truth, he had remarried and didn’t care for us anymore.

Well, while my mother, sister and, I traveled across the country, we were forced to witness and survive through a lot of grotesque things which I [thankfully] cannot remember because of my age. There is one story that my mother told me of how we needed to cross an active battlefield to come that much closer to freedom. A large group of us were forced to get into a bus to travel across a battle field. Once we had passed through the battle area we finally came upon the opposing side where there was a long mountain road that we were dropped off at, we were forced to walk in freezing temperatures; even infant me was forced to walk when no one had the energy to carry me any longer. We traveled along the road and some of us fell into large mortar holes which had frozen over which slowed us even more. Eventually we made it to our destination; we were free people to go where we were safe from persecution thanks to a series of charities that got my family out of there.

We were taken in by a Christian charity organization that took us from our broken home and country to the great nation of the United States of America. My mother took credit for us getting to the U.S. but I still think it was a random selection. I’m happy though that we were put in such a great nation and we given an opportunity to live here and eventually help out that nation. I personally feel a great debt not only to the sponsor that took care of my family, the others that helped us, and the nation that took us in and hope that one day I become a man of such greatness that I can repay all of them.

I feel that I’ve written enough for one night, I’ll continue this at another date and time. Good night and good luck to all.

“I have found that if you love life that life will love you back.”
- Arthur Rubinstein (1886 – 1982)

Break’s over, yet it’s just beginning

As you might be able to tell from reading this notes’ title, there are some things I would like to disclose to you, my readers. There are two separate breaks that I have; one has just begun while the other has just ended, strangely close to one another. In a few seconds I will explain what each one is and why you should even care at all.

I am happy and saddened to inform everyone reading this [which would most likely be a low number seeing as how long ago I last wrote anything online] that I have decided to yet again begin writing my notes again. I know there’s a majority of you out there reading this group of words and grimacing just at the thought of myself writing my random thoughts at random intervals down again. I say to this majority, I’m sorry for any inconvenience I bring unto you but then again remember that you always have a choice to read or not to read, that’s the great thing about being on the internet [and being American as most of you all are]. To the other, much smaller group, I thank you for reading my past entries, I hope you found them as amusing as I did while writing them. I hope to continue on the path I had forged beforehand except this time with a new steadfast dedication and intelligence. I have already thought of my next series of entries and even looked into my past blogs to search for further encouragement.

To both groups of people out there reading this, I would like to say thank you for spending the past thirty or so seconds of your busy lives to read that useless introduction I just wrote. As a reward I would like you to rise up out of your seat . . . Raise your arm . . . And then pat yourself on the back . . . How was that? Well worth the time you spent reading it all wasn’t it?

Onto the break beginnings, I have just started my spring break last weekend. Sadly though, half way through this week I will be leaving the Penfield portion and moving onto the Boston portion which is both unfortunate and fortunate. I am visiting my sister, her husband, and their puppy for a couple days before going back to Buffalo to start school back up again.

Now onto the future, I hope I will gain new readers or at the very least, keep the old ones I had once gained. I will try to write intelligent, hard hitting stuff (hah!) and make a somewhat decent blog out of it. To everyone reading this, good night and good luck, I hope you’re here to read the next entry.

Quote from my World Civ. Book

Okay so here is a little quote from my World Civilizations book, “The World’s History: Third Edition” by Howard Spodek…

“In their successions we see a pattern that will become familiar: the building of a large, powerful military force in the hands of a strong ruler, followed by a decline, a challenge by an outsider, the overthrow of the old empire, and the rise of a new one.” (Page 122).

I just saw this quote and immediately thought about America. It just clicked in my head when I read “large, powerful military force” and I knew that the United States was the largest, most powerful military of the modern world, then I kept reading on, “in the hands of a strong ruler,” I thought of all the great rulers the United States has elected into power, George Washington, Teddy Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Franklin D. Roosevelt. Then I kept reading on, “followed by a decline, a challenge by an outsider, the overthrow of the old empire” and I immediately thought of all the people outside of the United States (and some inside) that wanted to rule over us, that wanted us wiped off the face of the earth. If that didn’t send chills all up and down my spine the next part did, “the rise of a new one,” if there ever was a overthrow in my life time, who would I be with, I know I love this country and would die for it, if I was asked to but what side is the right side?

God I love history…

Dissed

It’s been a while since I’ve written a real blog entry that I actually used my brain to write. I don’t think this is a bad thing, people seem to be complaining about notes and have found it to be annoying. To be honest, I don’t give a shit, this is the one place where I can “speak” my mind and not be ridiculed. If you’re really annoyed by it, fucking ignore it and stop being douche bags. If people in real life would actually listen to be me and not be dicks then this wouldn’t be a problem.

Anyways, I’m writing this because of a bunch of stuff but the straw that broke the camels back was all the people dissing me. I mean, I know I’m a big target (literally and figuratively) but Jesus shit, I’m a nice guy, I try not to pick on anyone or make anyone feel bad but yet that isn’t how other people treat me, it’s so fucking annoying. I’ve seriously considered becoming just another douche bag that makes fun of everyone (not in good fun) and treats people like lowly shit like that but then I calm down and forget about it.

Lately people have been discussing religion with and around me and I just found a crazy fact, Jew’s make up less that one percent of the worlds population. I didn’t know that, I thought they were the third most populated religion behind Christianity and Islam. I also found out this fun fact that Roman Catholics are separated into two sects which is crazy. I mean, why do there need to be so many different sects of Christianity or any religion?

I want to write so much more about so many more subjects but I have class balls early tomorrow and since I live on fucking south I have to wake up balls deep early and shit so I’m going to bed soon. Fuck, I just remembered that I have laundry that I need to get so I wont be asleep for a while.

[P.S. This is for everyone that is a part of the boys, I haven't worked on the story in a while but it's coming back into my mind so I might start working on it sooner or later. I'm thinking about another story I wanna write but I don't think I have enough time to do anything, I still need to clean my room. Fuck me I'm busy. I hate College.]

U.C.’s

Today I saw a bunch of super Christians (also known as Über Christians or U.C.’s) near the student union as I was walking there to get food. I did what I usually do and a majority of people who saw them did, I ignored them. I went, ate my food, then John came up to me and told me about how people are surrounding the U.C.’s and debating them and that two lesbians (one hot and one not back looking) were making out because the U.C.’s were holding up signs protesting gay’s. Lets just say I was outside pretty quick. Once I got out there I saw a nice crowd of people surrounding the U.C.’s. The majority of them were just like me, watching and laughing at the things being said. There was however a small group of people who were debating with the Christ’s about a shit load of stuff.

I have to say I’m in a love-hate relationship with U.C’s. I hate them because of what they’re saying, I mean not even the whole trying to convert people shit. I’m talking the talking about all the people they hate or are wrong. Why do you have to talk about that? I mean, gays are wrong? Does being gay make a person not human anymore, does it make them different, can you tell the difference suddenly? I don’t really understand that. I do however love them because they get the debate juices flowing. Now I’ve been picking on Christians, I have to admit, its not just Christians doing this stuff, there are also others. All religious have extremists and fanatics. I have to say, I really don’t like them all, I think religion is a good thing in some situations, it give people something to believe in, something to cause hope, but it is also something that causes problems, doesn’t answer any questions. I think that all in all, current religion is more bad than good, its just not something people are really into anymore and for good reason. Priests touching boys, leaders calling for mass murder, cults taking innocent peoples moneys, its all just fucked up.

Personally, I’m a Muslim, and no one really believes I am. I like to think that my religion is best but people don’t really agree, they see all the terrorism as what my religion is. It’s not. It’s just a bunch of people taking the holy text in their own interpretation and take that to the extreme. I wish I could convince them otherwise but they’re so fanatic its literally impossible.

Sorry this was so rushed and ended oddly but I’m going to go do stuff.

Home is where the heart is …

Ever since I was a child, I always thought that a house can be any old building with four walls, a roof, and a floor (possibly some windows and doors). I only came to believe that a home is where you feel right, where you know you belong, (to be cheesy,) where your heart tells you, you belong. I always associated a home with a family, to be more particular a nuclear family. For all of you out there that don’t know what a nuclear family is, it is a dad, mom, sister, brother, and possibly a dog, living in the suburbs usually. I’ve always hoped for a nuclear family and come close to it but never really attained it, mainly due to the lack of a father and shit like that.

Well I’ve learned to adapt to many situations and made my home many things, from my first house in the ghetto to, friends house where I preferred going there rather than the place I’m suppose to call home (thank you; Chris, Graeme, Kevin, Kim, Rachel, Leslie). I remember going to each of their houses the first time, scared of what I should do, who should I talk to, where should I go. Then I remember the last time I was there, walking around without the friend there, saying hi to everyone, eating their food, watching their TV’s, etc. I have some great examples, first time I went into the Brizendine house, it was after football and Kevin and I were starving, we went right to the pantry and started stealing food, right when Ms. Brizendine walks in. I found that moment funny yet scary. I also remember all the good times I’ve had at Graeme’s and Kim’s, pretty much living there and adopting their parents. I miss it.

I write this because I remember my first night here at UB and as I laid in my bed, I remember thinking back to all those occasions, when I slept at Graeme’s while his family was gone, sleeping at Kim’s the first time, all those great times and it helped me go to sleep. I think about it now because I went back home last weekend and it was strange, as I lay in my bed, I felt like I was in the wrong place, I felt that my heart didn’t want this place anymore. I missed the lights coming in through the window, the crazy Spanish woman running through the halls, the other person in the room, the cops outside on the road every night, it was all very strange. I hope that my heart isn’t forgetting all the great times I’ve had with my friends and its just forgetting all the horrible times in my actual house.

Just so everyone knows I’ve lived in more ghetto houses/areas than not…

Free Time

I’m sitting here in the library I just discovered, I’m pretty excited I’ve found it, it seems like a good place to study and sleep, its pretty new from the looks of it, and its fucking huge, nothing like the ones back in Penfield. I’ve decided when I’m done with my homework and other stuff (later, not now) I’ll start looking around campus finding all the places best for studying, sleeping, getting work done, food, etc. I really have no idea now because I haven’t been exploring all that much, mainly just going back and forth between my classes on north and my home on south.

Calling my dorm my home is a new thing for me, I never really thought any place other than my white house on that little side road off five mile would ever take the designation “home.” Senior and Junior year of high school I was preparing for college, I knew I would be going off to college and probably never coming back home but I never actually understood what I was doing. I was (and am) starting a new life. I’m living in a new place, going to a new school to study something that I will probably do the rest of my life (scary thought ain’t it). So far my life looks like I’ll be a slacker who just slides by, but I hope to change that with the help from my friends, new and old, and all the resources provided here by this amazing college.

Something I did forget to mention is that I met my engineering mentor (required). He’s an aerospace engineer who went to UB (for all his degree’s, 12 years!) and now he works here as a teacher after working for some big aerospace places like, NASA or the DOD. I looked at this man and listen to every word he told me and knew that, that is what I wanted to do, I want to become an aerospace engineer, get out off UB with a degree, enter the world and (hopefully) work for the United States Air Force and engineer planes, missiles, and anything that flies for them to help or hurt whoever they wish. I can’t wait for that future. I was talking to a guy down my hall about how my job and the jobs of almost everyone (except those fucking nuclear engineers) are in danger because of the oil crisis. Think about it for a second, will your job be in jeopardy if there was absolutely no oil for you to use? I mean, that affects a fuck load of jobs, its a little scary that so many people (I have to say 95-99%) on this planet would be affected by a complete lack of oil.

Oh, I do have to say about these new friends I’m making, they aren’t exactly the best to hang around. I don’t mean they aren’t cool or anything like that, they are, its just they get in fucking trouble a shit load. We’ve lived together for not even a month and some people on the floor are looking at their third write up soon. It’s crazy.

GREAT NOTE ABOUT NICE GUYS

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in Halo2 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what

they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgment, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Another Painful Day

Well I’d like to start out by saying my friends are the best friends in, quite possibly, the world. They came to visit me on campus at UB which is pure awesomeness.

I have to say my favorite part of this entire day is seeing a cute little blond girl with a smile on her face from ear to ear running at me yelling, “Damir!” It was beautiful, after her came Chris and then Graeme, it was a beautiful sight, I almost cried on sight, especially when everyone gave me a hug.

After a couple minutes of talking and joking around with each other we decided, why not go around and see the campus a little bit, so we did. We first left my dorm and checked out the buildings around mine to see which were better and worse. There was the insane asylum looking one Chris kept talking about then the nice new one that I would rather live in if I had to live on South Campus (which I do). Once we were done with these south campus buildings we took the bus on up to North Campus to check out those buildings and check up on Kevin and Kim.

Well it wasn’t too bad even though the bus ride was long as fuck. We had a nice crazy chat on the bus about completely random stuff which I don’t remember all that well; all I really do remember is that it was a fun conversation in which all the people around us were staring mainly at me. I do however remember my conversation with Leslie, she kept talking about she really wanted to beat Chris with a bar of soap in a sock. This is my warning to Chris, if you ever see her with a sock or any similar object, run the fuck away, fast.

Well after we got to the campus and finally figured out where Kevin was, even though we hit a heavily air conditioned room and LOVED it, we almost totally forgot Kevin existed (Not!). Then when we got up to his room which was packed with Asians, I went exploring to the other side of the hall and found all these dorms, talked to some people then, found the lounge where everyone migrated to. Included in this migration of people were the little kids who were crazy, I mean hanging off the door crazy. We had some fun, I waved to some pretty girls looking up at us, it was good. We then got some food at the dining hall, looked through the job fair and then decided we had to help out Rachel.

All seven of crammed into Graeme’s Honda Civic (it was a civic not an accord Kevin) and we went in the balls hot heat and went to Cansius and checked out Rachel’s fucking amazing room and cute, honestly, cute roommate. Their room was so damn nice and cool, I kind of hate them for it, I mean, damn you it’s currently 82.3 degrees in my room right now. Fuck. So yeah, we cleared out of there then we had to go through one of the worst experience I’ve had to endure, except this was my second time doing it.

We were saying goodbye, again, my heart can’t take much more of this. I mean, it was hard the first time but then seeing them again and having to say good bye a second time. It was bad. I felt better when Leslie told me it’d be alright and that we’d see each other again soon but then I got to Kim. That was a tough one, she was already doing bad and I had to tell her it was going to be alright but it was more for myself than it was for me. I felt horrible by then but it got much worse before it got better. Next up came all the bro’s at once, we all had a group hug which I will always remember that. I mean, all of us together one last time, hugging, crying, everything. I was so sad when I saw the four of them enter that car, crying, and leaving me.

The rest of the day was “meh” I unpacked some more and stuff. Then Rachel brought her roommate and my stuff over then we decided to head over to Canisius to watch a movie where we all got to have some good talks and stuff. Eventually that died out and we all went home.

Wow, this is a lot of writing I have done, Good night everyone, I love you all.