I don't think there's one word that can describe a mans life...XANADU!!

I think I know why I like Citizen Cane...its an American Hero tragedy, perhaps one I am destined to repeat. This story will be about Max Parker Dahl.

"Mr. Kane was a man who got everything he wanted and then lost it. Maybe Rosebud was something he couldn't get, or something he lost. Anyway, it wouldn't have explained anything... I don't think any word can explain a man's life. No, I guess Rosebud is just a... piece in a jigsaw puzzle... a missing piece"

Pieces of a jig-saw puzzle is all I am, a puzzle with a few missing pieces.

LOVE: Is it the a great phenomenon of human nature, or the nature of phenomenal human beings?

"That's all he ever wanted out of life... was love. That's the tragedy of Charles Foster Kane. You see, he just didn't have any to give."

Leland: "You don't care about anything except you. You just want to persuade people that you love 'em so much that they ought to love you back. Only you want love on your own terms. Something to be played your way, according to your rules."

Charles Foster Kane: "A toast, Jedediah: to Love on my own terms"

Susan: "Love! You don't love anybody! Me or anybody else! You want to be loved - that's all you want! I'm Charles Foster Kane. Whatever you want - just name it and it's yours! Only love me! Don't expect me to love you"

MY TERMS:
Somehow I always get what I want. Somehow I didn't start life with an inheritance that made me an indispensable playboy...but I want my Charles Foster Kane lifestyle, I'm aiming for a Bruce Wayne progeny to come along and do SOMETHING with what I've done.

I rarely set goals, because I feel empty when I fail. It sucks to fail. When I set goals, somehow they get accomplished:

Mission: Done, and done well
Meet a girl on the plane ride home, and kiss her: Done-but boy was it awkward
Make my father proud: For now, i'm gauging and projecting a "Mission Accomplished"
Approach a girl that makes me uncharacteristically nervous, and act normal: DONE DEAL

I devised a scheme on my mission, approach the fliest hunnie I saw at school...and talk to her-admit that she scared me, and ask to be her friend/get her number/hang out---whatever I could to overcome that repulsive instinct to sweat and stammer and laugh nervously. I wanted the confidence of Charles Foster Kane, and I'm on the warpath, releasing my primal scream into the mist of the Cache Valley inversion.

Last semester I saw a girl named Jessica. She made me nervous; more sweaty palmed than I had ever been. I saw her again and again, and every day I was more impressed and intimidated. One day I stopped her "I've noticed you around, what's your name?" "beautiful Jessica, the Diadem"(or so I heard it) I loved her confidence: her pixie haircut--shorter than my hair! her body language that said 'i'm comfortable with your affront', her nose ring, and a wit that matched mine (SPEED baby, SPEED) We talked about Guatemala and orphanages and earrings...when I saw her shift into the 'I need to leave so I make it to class on time' stance, I triumphed over my cowering tongue and willed it to ask "So, can I have your number??" the answer came hesitantly "i'm not single...does that matter?" ***"NOT AT ALL"***

I waited out last semester. I texted her intermittently, she continued to date the same boy. This semester I brushed into her intermittently, she has continued to date the same boy...but SOMEHOW once I set my goal, the fields of magnetism have pulled in my favor. "LOVE on my terms". Walking to class, she stopped me to ask "when are we going to hang out?"; and I croaked "whenever you call me..." It happened again two days later, "when?" 'Why didn't you call?' WHATEVER.

I called, we met for jazz and crepes at our gemstone of a venue. I was aloof, I hadn't set "my terms"; she was too flirtatious. I was still too reserved and screaming on the inside. She committed to a hug, I opted for a side hug--I still held "the terms and agreements" in my hands (whoever cares less holds the greatest power) she pointedly said (emphasized with an extended pointer finger) "We'll definitely hang out again, next time i'll pay: CALL me"

Two weeks of resistance, (on her end, not mine) we met for lunch today in the infamous SKYROOM. She was expecting the normal crew, but my regular homies bailed on me. It was just her and I...for a minute or two. (ENTER GRANT CUMMINGS) Another unexplained anomaly--how did I get to be close to Grant, and why was I NEVER in the same class with him, if we went to school for 13 years together??

The three of us had an enjoyable lunch. I had to lie outright to Sarah to be seated(but I hate her, and she shares mutual disdain rooted in 2004 lifeguarding experiences) APPARENTLY this Valentine's lunch was 'reservation only' ("Sarah, why WOULDN'T I call? I'm certain Andrew put all of our names down for today") It should've been the most trying and awkward experiences of my life: the coolest kid in school that I've NEVER talked to extensively, and the ONE girl on campus that makes me nervous. I felt reigned in like Phillipe the Clydesdale in the spooky forest in Beauty and the Beast "where have you taken us Phillipe?" My instincts were defunct, but I was spurred forward. I ate like a horse to cover how odd I acted...otherwise "my terms" would be surrendered...i'd rather die like Gen. Custard.

She texted me later: she is still completely committed to her boy, but strangely interested in me. She wanted to know what I wanted...

I just want to be loved by everyone, without having to make myself vulnerable by loving them. The irony stings, i'm listening to a song that poses "You've got to give a little love, give a little love, give a little love to get a little love" That 3:1 ratio is unacceptable to me, a Neo-"Kane"-enite. (Those Caanan days, where have they gone...where did they go?)

I want what HE wanted: success, prestige, a challenge, to be an HONEST politician, a man of values and integrity that says "no, thank you" to the pressures of the world...to do my own thing and be loved by everyone.

The message from Orson Wells remains: Rosebud can represent something I never achieved, or achieved and lost because of the choices I made. I fear I could lose people and chances to love them if I continue on my fools voyage for the praise and adoration of EVERYONE. It won't ever happen, but why not? Couldn't I try? I HAVE accomplished what I put my mind and soul into...the key is "what am I doing it for"

RIGHT?