Stiiiiiiiill don't get it

We talked about the House of Israel in sunday school today. Not much about that topic has ever made much sense to me. Take for example the following simplified version of a dialogue found in most any Israel discussion:

Teacher: Who are the House of Israel?
Class: We are!
Teacher: Right! And what's a Gentile?
Class: Somebody who's not of the House of Israel!
Teacher: Right! And who are the Gentiles?
Class: We are!
Teacher: Right!

That discussion went about the same way in Sweden as it did in America. I'm curious how it would go in other areas of the world. In the meantime, my patriarchal blessing, indeed the very nature of patriarchal blessings tells me that I'm of Israel. The Book of Mormon tells me I'm a Gentile.

What the heck.

BZZT!

I've got this memory from when I was probably 5 or 6 years old, living in Colorado. I was out in the front yard. Storm. I'd say I was around ten feet away from that tree we had, and what do you know, a bolt of lightning comes down just a few feet away from me. I conclude that it would be best for me to not be there, and I run back into the house as fast as my little feet can get me there.

In recent years, I've looked back on that memory, and at one point was struck by the thought: shouldn't I be dead if that happened? Maybe I'd dreamed the whole thing, or remembered wrong, or just been imaginating. I mean, it was a long time ago. Another memory from around then involves some balloons floating off in one direction, while my sister swears that in reality they flew the opposite direction.

So today after my weather class in which we were discussing lightning, I ran the story by my professor to see what he thought. He said it was entirely possible, albeit very lucky. He seemed to think that the lightning hit the tree instead of the ground, and I remember it hitting the ground, but so what, I still say I got a professional confirmation. And it's really nice to have that somewhat settled.

Major... so close!

I was leaning a lot towards geology. Not decidedly so, but noteworthily so. I sign up for classes accordingly. Then after Environmental Biology the other day, I went up to ask the teacher a question, and then he asked if I'd decided on a major. I admit that I had not, and had meant to talk with him about an EnviroScience major all semester. He says he's got time right then, I say I do to, so we go tour the facilities and talk for a good hour. Now I'm torn again. Do I want to do geology and know what's in the earth, or environment and know what's on the earth? Then there's the factor of them both having relevant emphases, so it's sort of an issue of knowing both, but which should I know better.

The kicker is while they share a number of classes, they both require my taking an introductory class next semester, or find myself here for an extra year, just because of the way the classes are scheduled for certain terms and left out of others. Either way I have to take calculus, so that's four credits. The intro courses are both four credits, so that brings me to 8. If I do enviro, I have to take chemistry right away, and I have to do it for geology eventually, that's another 4 credits, so we're up to twelve before we even get to religion and guitar. If I'm taking three 4-credit classes, I'd like to know I'm taking the right ones, dang it!

And that's the way the cookie is crumbling right now. Updates as the story develops.

Sublime. Not just a band.

Yesterday I went to the clubhouse (that's what they call the central hang-out office gathering place building here) to play the piano. Hadn't played for a few weeks, and I was really in the mood. So I played for a while, got my fingers moving, had a good time. After about half an hour I turned the lights off and kept playing. There's got to be some sort of learning benefit to that, I figure. So I play everything I can play by memory. After a while I hear the door open and a girl comes in and lays down on one of the couches and tells me to keep playing. So I do. I play, we talk a little, I play some more, it was a grand time, ended up being probably 40 minutes, just sitting and playing and talking quietly in the dark. At 7 o'clock more people came and turned on the lights and we had family home evening and went ice-skating.

Later that night I lay in bed, musing on the singularity of the scene. 40 minutes, serenading a girl in the dark, without any idea of who that girl is. I still don't know who it was, or if she knew who I was. Talk about sublime.

He's a what? He's a what? He's a:

Music Man! It's just wrapping up at a theater around here, and I'd been meaning to go see it. Finally did. It was real good.

The funny thing about it is as follows. There's this girl I knew from my Euphony days that lives in this same apartment complex. We ran into each other two wednesdays ago, and decided we needed to go out and have a little fun sometime. Ran into each other the day thereafter, and she asked when I was going to ask her out. I shrugged. Hadn't really planned it out yet, you know? So on Friday she calls and says she's free and so I may ask her out that evening. Well gee, I guess tonight's the night! So we go see Music Man, and it was super swell. As for her, swell girl and I like hangin' out with her, and admittedly I kinda had a thing for her a while back, but that faded away and let's face it, the last thing I need is another Euphony girl episode. Whether or not she's inferring something I can't say for sure, but the point is, that's the second time a girl has made me ask her out, and both times it was a girl I'd been interested in before but wasn't anymore. Dang timing.

On a side note, the scene from the play where Marian kisses Charlie the anvil salesman until the train whisttle blows, you know the one? Well, she kissed him, and she kissed him some more, and she kept kissing him, finally she gave up and said her next line and a second later the train whistle finally blew. I had to laugh at the image of the actor who plays Charlie slipping five bucks to the sound guy to hold off on the whistle.

My day in sales

I was cruising around the internet, minding my own business, when suddenly my trainer's wife mentions that her mom is looking for people to work a flexible schedule for $13/hour. One of my favorite things in the world is making $13/hour, so after some discussion and and pondering and a few days, I make the phone call and sign up.

The deal is this fella Eric Dowdle is an artist, and he's got his art showing at Costco's around Utah this fall, and he needs people to watch and run the display and answer questions and explain why no home is complete without a piece of Dowdle Folk Art in the parlor. I hoped I'd be mostly a theft deterrent, but oh well. My first station was to be Murray (gas was reimbursed) so I drove forever, learned what I was doing, worked for a few hours, drove home. It wasn't super painful for a salesman gig, but it was still a salesman gig, so I was a little down by the time I got home.

It behooveth me at this point that I explain a main motivator in going for the job in the first place. You may but probably don't recall from one of those tags a while back that I listed six or eight things that I wanted/needed or something like that. At the top of the list was DMC-TZ5. It's a camera. It's about $370 at most stores. Ouch, right? So I figure if I take this job I can earn that much money, buy the camera and be no worse off financially than I would have been without the job, and see if I wanted to keep working. I really planned to earn the money and then pay cash for the camera, but after that first evening I needed a morale booster, so I went ahead and searched online and got the camera brand new for $200. Whoo-hoo!

Went back to work the next evening, and really things were going okay. The art was cool, so at least it was a product I believed in, and ya know, I just like being in Costco. I don't know why, but I do. Not too bad a gig all things considered. But then I started considering all the time I was investing. It came out to 13 hours in two days, which two days I really really needed to get a lot of stuff done and couldn't. Basically I thought it would work out great but it wasn't going to and I thought it best to cut my losses and drop out before they got used to me. So I finished out the shift enthusiastically (don't want to get paid for nothing, after all) and then called up and quit when I got to my car. She didn't seem too offended, which was a relief, cause I like her, and she's my trainer's wife's mom, which is to say she's the mother of the wife of my mission 'father', which makes me sort of a step-grandson-in-law, so we're practically family, and I'd hate to have family not like me.

So that was my schpiel as a salesman. Now I just gotta make another $100 on top of my normal income to pay for the rest of that camera. No worries, I will. You know how creative and ambitious we college kids are. But hey. That Panasonic Lumix DMC-TZ5 is sweet.

Vitamin Evil!

I've never really been the standard of health, it's true. And a couple of the ailments I've discovered to the world have been pretty puzzling. But this one is just plain weird. Just about every time I indulge in a large dose of vitamin C, I get a cold. I almost never get a cold nowadays what with my strict Claritin diet, but vitamin c gets me every time!
That drink powder I got in some packages on my mission didn't do it, thank goodness, but the half-gallon of orange juice I drank during a particularly long day at the train station during transfers certainly did. The c-supplements I got in the MTC to ward off the sickness going around had 800% of my daily value, and rather than warding off any cold for the next ten years, it gave me a cold like none I've had before or since, which led to an ear-infection that messed up my ears to this day. And a few days ago I invested in some Centrum. It's got 170% of my vitamin c in it. Suddenly I've got a cold.
Coincidence? Dubitable.
Anybody else have this going on? Does it run in the family? Or did my body just get creative again?

Audition

Okay, so a while back I had an adventure, but I kept hoping for a different ending, so I never blogged it. I think the case is pretty well closed by now, so here goes! [editor's note: I just started typing and stopped when the story was done. Turned into a novel. Get comfy!]

See, there's this kid at work who was in The Hale Center Theater in Orem's production of A Christmas Carol last year. I'm a fan of that theater. He suggested I try out for it. I figured if nothing else it'd be good experience and audition practice, so what the heck, I went for it. I really had no idea what I was doing, like how auditions work and such, so I got to the evening of my appointment before I even decided what I was gonna sing. I decided on "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing," which is of course one of Danny Kaye's songs in White Christmas. I've got that book full of Irving Berlin music, and even with all the songs Bing Crosby did, one of the only songs with a cozy range for me was a Danny Kaye one. Who'd've thunk? So I got there, filled out a couple papers and took a picture, waited because they were way behind schedule, I finally got in about exactly an hour later. Pretty uneventful, but still kinda entertaining hour, standing in that crowded hall full of show choir kids.

So I got in, the piano guy reached for my songbook, I gave it to him, and everybody just looked at me. I stared back and them, and finally caught on. "So I just start singing, huh?" They nodded. So I sing, the accompaniest accompanies me. A few measures into it I thought I heard somebody come in through the door behind me, so I looked over my shoulder to see if it was somebody important that wanted me to do something else. Nobody there. Makes a guy wish he hadn't looked away from the jury in the middle of his audtion like he didn't care whether he made it or not. Anyway, I finished singing, they asked if I was sure I didn't want to read for a speaking part, I said I guess I might as well, so I pulled the script they gave me out of my pocket. Did my best to explain in a British accent why Belle should love me and not be bitter that I was spending more time with my money than with her. Alas, I haven't been able to pull off any sort of decent accent since I hit the MTC, and that didn't change for the audition. Nonetheless, I put it down, and the guy that I think owns the theater asked kinda dissappointed-like if I was determined to not have a speaking role. I shrugged and said if they wanted to give me one I guessed I'd take it. They said thanks, I left, that was that.

Chapter 2: Waited and waited and waited and wished I'd taken my hands out of my pockets when I sang and thinking how at least I'd sung pretty, which is good, cause that's what I was banking on in the first place, and waited and waited and gave up most of my hope, then five minutes before Meteorology is over the day after (Friday, it was) they call and leave a message and say I made call-backs. Rock on. Call-backs are Saturday at 9 a.m. Flip. I work then. I get to work the next morning hoping I'll be able to pull off some plan with the other kid who tried out, but it turns out he isn't working that day. Fortunately, the sun isn't there either. In fact it's snowing. Very slow day at work. I mention to my fellow yard-techs that it feels dumb to be sitting there with nothing to be done while I could be auditioning. They agree and tell me to go. So I go inside and casually hypothetically mention it to my supervisor, who tells me, "Oh heck yeah man, go, get out of here!" which I didn't expect, but hey, I gotta do what he says, right? So I go, agreeing to the condition that I bring hot chocolate when I come back. Thirty, forty minutes, right? Ha! That's what I thought. Nope.

Chapter 3: So I get to the theater miraculously easily, took a new route and didn't even get lost. Pull into the parking lot, see all the other kids walking in the door, looking all pretty. I climb out of my car with my oil-stained coat and dirty, holy shirt, Timp hat and steel-toes, feeling a little less classy but a lot more manly than most everybody else there. We go, we wait for the guy with the sheet music to get there, we warm up, we sing Angels We Have Heard on High, altogether, then in quartets as directed, the people go out to consult about who to keep while we learn the next song. It's Ding Dong Merilly on High, a familiar, but a new arrangement to all of us besides the sopranoes, and in fact pretty much the opposite of any bass line I've ever sung to that song. They come back in, name the people they want to keep, I'm one of them, oh joy! So we sing altogether for the lady in charge, then she puts us in quartets again, over and over and over, looks like she's having a hard time deciding on everybody. There are 7 basses, a few more tenors, a few more altoes, and a few more sopranoes, so we basses got to sing several times. Finally she says, "okay, I think I've got it, thanks!" and leaves. And that's the end of it. Didn't even tell us who made it, harsh!

Chapter 4: I go back to work. By the time I get back with the hot chocolate, turns out it's been about three hours. Nobody seemed to mind, apparently I hadn't hardly missed anything. I keep checking my phone throughout the day. I'm feeling pretty hopeful, see? I saw most every other bass had their hands in their pockets every time they sang, so that wouldn't be an issue. I learned the harmony to the new song faster'n they did, sang pretty well I thought, I was feeling good about my chances! I also considered how the kid I worked with, who was actually a tenor, somehow ended up being one of those 7 basses, and he sang once in those finals quartets, while I sang 3 or 4 times, and we sang quite differently, so I figured with better than 1:2 odds, one of us was bound to make it. Other than that there were 4 of those kids who you'd expect to be in most shows in high school and have everybody love them, who sing like tenors who can hit a decent baritone note now and then, as well as a guy called Steve who was probably 30 and a half foot taller than the rest of us, wore a leather jacket, sang quite manishly. Had a certain Barry Carl tone to his voice, actually. I was excited to sing with him for two months. So there were we two genuine basses, four bari/tenors, and one tenor. I was feeling confident! Just kept waiting for that call... and waitin for that call... and boy did I wait. About the wednesday after I gave up the last dredge of hope. The kid I work with never got called either. Now, they kept saying they were looking for a specific sound in the people they chose, and the way I figure, if they didn't want my sound, and they didn't want my coworker's tenor sound, they must have wanted the high-school heart-throb sound and gone with those four guys. But then first off, there wouldn't hardly be anything on the low notes when the choir sang, and second, that would also discount Steve, the guy who got cheers every time he sang at the audition, he was really good! How could they leave him out? And if they left him out, how could they leave me out, being the only other guy who could actually sing like a bass? But they did leave me out, so did they also leave him out? These and other questions have haunted me in the weeks since that audition.

Conclusion: So no go on the show. I was pretty annoyed that I tried out for a role called "Bass" and didn't make it. For crying out loud, it's what I do. But then I remembered once hearing that Charlie Chaplin once entered a Charlie Chaplin look-alike contest and lost, and that made me feel better.

The End

T-A-G-G-G-G

The rules are:
* Link to the person who tagged you
* Post the rules on your blog
* Write six random things/unspectacular quirks about yourself
* Tag six people at the end of your post
* Let each person you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog
* Let the tagger know when your entry is posted

I shall now write six random things/unspectacular quirks about myself.

1: My feet were bigger in middle school than they are now.

2: I usually put the AC on even at night in my car, and leave it on for the whole drive, no matter how cold it gets.

3: "So she climbed to the top of the tower that night, feeling quite lonely and left out alright!" That was my line from the Christmas play we put on in first grade.

4: My singing record is a low Eb. The really low one. I'm inordinately proud of that.

5: I think gummy bears and smarties make a heavenly combination. The shame is that's it's so darn unhealthy!

6: I can sing just about every word of every part in it's proper octave, including the girls as long as I'm alone in my car, to The Music Man.

And I taaaaaaaaaaag... anybody who hasn't already done this super recently. Go!

And the next thing you know, it's been almost two weeks since my last post. This just cannot be! So I'm gonna post something.

The question is...what?

Soooooooooooo in the weeks since I came to school I've been meaning to go for a midnight swim sometime. Haven't done it yet. Today we got a notice on our doors saying that they're gonna close the pool on Thursday. I'd be less bummed if they hadn't already put signs all around the pool saying "Pool Closed." Somebody should tell management. You'd think they'd know, but I guess not! So my dream of that midnight swim is probably not gonna pan out until at least April. It's a real bummer.

8!

*shrug* I got tagged. Whatcha gonna do?


8 Things I am Passionate About:
1.The Gospel
2. My family
3. 'The Family'
4. Happiness
5. Music
6. Health
7. Babes
8. Guys that can sing really really low

8 Words or Phrases I Say Often:
1. I believe it.
2. I think you're bluffing.
3. Serious[ly]
4. You're mocking me, aren't you.
5. Get 'er done, Johnny Reb
6. I wish I was rich.
7. I wish I was in bed.
8. Do YOU know what I should major in?

8 Things I want to do before I Die:
1. Get married. That's about it. But if I live longer, I guess I should have other goals.
2. Choose a major.
3. Release an album or two.
4. Sing that darn low A. Ideally with witnesses.
5. Get really good at the piano. And singing. And guitar.
6. Figure out that flippin' music program I bought.
7. Raise a righteous posterity.
8. Be rich. Really, really rich. Sooner rather than later.

8 Things I Have Learned From my Past:
1. I am, in fact, usually right. Alas, I'm usually wrong too.
2. Swedish.
3. Everybody's just trying to do their thing.
4. Trust people because they've earned your trust, not because of any title they have.
5. What doesn't kill you burns calories.
6. Truth isn't an opinion.
7. There's always a bright side. Look for it, and enjoy it.
8. It'll all turn out okay in the end.

8 Places I Would Love to Go or See:
1. Broadway
2. Antarctica
3. The spot where Norway, Sweden, and Finland connect. I wanna put my foot there.
4. Pluto
5. A prophet's apartment
6. Everest
7. Moscow
8. Alaska

8 Things I Currently Need or Want:
1. DMC-TZ5 camera
2. Z-5500 speakers and something to do with them.
3. My own F-18... with unlimited fuel and ammo... built in...
4. A major
5. A woman
6. A popsicle
7. A trick to keep me awake while reading for classes
8. Fifty-hundred-million dollars.

8 People I Tag:
1. Um... I only have like 5 people that will even read this, and one of them already did it. I guess if you wanna do it, consider yourself tagged. Tag!!

Math study session

I'm taking a math class for the first time in 5.5 years. That's right, 5 1/2 years. 11/2 years. And I'm doing relatively okay with it. We have a test over the first section starting today, and I think I'll do okay with most of it. I just wish I knew the official formula for completing the square with a quadratic formula. We did a bunch of examples, but never actually got a straight formula. I'd like to have that formula. So I went to a study session that was announced in class, where the TA's would help get anybody interested ready for the test. I went tonight, expecting a small room with few or no people. I mean, come on, it's math. How many people want to spend their Wednesday night studying math instead of partying?

Well, turns out there are very very many people who lean that way. I got there at about 8:20ish, the announced hours being 7:00-9:00. Thought I'd just go get my formula and take my leave. Imagine then my surprise upon discovering not a quaint room with bored TA's waiting eagerly to meet me, but a stadium-seated room with students pouring out into the aisles, and the TA going crazy up front with all them symbols and numbers. So I walked to the back, out of the way, and figured I'd just watch and see if my question came up on its own.

About a minute went by. He was wrapping up one equation, and somebody asked a question about parentheses vs brackets. He answered, thanked the room, everybody clapped, and we all left. I didn't feel much more prepared after that minute than I did before, but hey. At least I was there. Now it's all up to karma.

The silentest conversation ever!

Had a new experience today. I went back to Sandy for a friend's farewell, and there were a bunch of other people there too, including one deaf guy. He and I left her house at about the same time, and as I'm walking to my car, I hear somebody clap behind me. Remembering the deaf guy, I turn around, and sure enough, it was him trying to get my attention. He starts doing his thing with his hands and I'm trying to think what the signs are for "I don't know sign language!" I almost said "No hablo espanol," but upon further thought, that wouldn't have helped much. But thank goodness that whoever wrote sign language made it sort of make sense! He pointed at the car, and me, and himself, and made like he was outlining a house, and put his hands together and bowed his head, so I'm thinking, "Okay, so... you- drive- me- house- please or something like that.... he wants a ride?" So I nod and motion to the car, he does it all again to check if I understood, which I wasn't sure I had, but I nodded again, he got in, and away we went. Then it hit me... he wasn't meaning "I pray thee good sir, my house!" but more "pray house! pray house!" Oh yeah. The church. So I drove to the church and he seemed pleased, and he pointed to his car in the parking lot and I let him out and we waved to each other and he signed 'thank-you' and I'm like Hey, I know that one! and then we both drove our seperate ways. I'm not sure what I learned from the experience, but it was pretty sublime, so I thought I'd blog about it. And that's the way the cookie crumbled. very quietly.

I saw them, I can prove it!

I'm sure you all heard about Acappellastock 2008. It was the party of the year. I went. My roomie and I both went. Don't regret it. I was doubtful at the beginning when the sun was blinding the show out of my eyes and I figured it'd all be over by the time the sun went down. But the sun went down pretty quick, and the show was about 3 hours long, so it worked out great. And it was an awesome show. Like fer serious.

Rockapella, familiar with them? When they started out, there were four guys, none of who[m] are currently involved. They're retired, you might say. But they reunited by popular demand, and performed a whole twice. Count 'em, one, twice. The twicent performance was Acappellastock. I was there. The bass was Barry Carl. He's my hero, as far as alive people go. See the video currently featured on this blog for further information. So I was real excited to meet him, cause, ya know, he's my hero. I even wrote ahead of time to ask him if it was plausible for me to expect to get a picture with him. He said yes. Huzzah! Then we got to the show. I've got the tickets, I've got four sets of extra batteries just in case my camera dies, but wait a minute... how can my camera die... if it's sitting at home in the kitchen? Which it was. I was pretty disgusted when I realized that. So after the show I got all their autographs on my ticket stub, and shook their hands, talked to them for a few seconds before the line moved along. That was grand. Then I got home and decided that rather than be discouraged, I'd take control of the situation. I took my own pictures anyway!
Me and the boys chillin'

Sean, Me, Barry, Elliot, Steve

Me and 'Bear' shaking hands. What a guy.

Yep. Just as good as the real thing. I'll be tellin' stories about these pictures for years.

Quroak!

I was driving home. I turned left onto a road with a 45 speed limit. But I saw the car ahead of me slowing down. I didn't want to hit him, so I slowed down too. Then he comes to a dead stop. Now, I've noticed that people generally drive really slow on 45s for some reason. But a dead stop? Turns out there were ducks. Three ducks. They looked like they had started to cross the road (why?) and noticed all the cars coming, so they froze in line. "No sudden movements guys, maybe they won't see us if we stand still!" Good intentions, but really not a well-educated plan. But they stayed stiff, so the car in front of me cranked the wheel around and made his way past. I made my way past too, revving my engine a bit in a "Hey dummies, yer gonna die, move!!!" sort of way. But they didn't. So I finished the drive home and supposed I'd never see the end of the episode.

But I did.

I had a movie to return. So I went and returned the movie. On the way back from the rental joint I found myself on that same road. The 45 speed had resumed nicely, cause I was the only car on the road. I remembered the ducks and wondered how they'd fared. I didn't see them from a distance and figured they'd left. Then I got closer, and noticed the duck-sized lump on the road, right where the leader had been standing before. I think we can all imagine how the episode ended. There's no 'to be continued' on that episode! Though... there might be sequel, a follow-up series about the other two ducks, and the things they learned from that experience. Maybe even a shocker season finale where the first duck returns, not dead!

I don't reckon this drama series will ever come to fruition. At least a few of us are aware of the pilot episode. Aren't you glad you read this?

Rockavideo

New video. I'm sure you're all excited. Especially since one apparently needs firefox to see a whole movie instead of just the left half and apparently none of my loyal readers use firefox apparently. It's apparent. But you can still click the link if you really want to see it. It's the original four Rockapella guys. Mostly I just get a big kick out of Barry's first two deals. If you don't know who Barry is... guess. You'll be right. If only he wasn't smoking... smoking is bad, you know.

Another one bites the dust

I knew a fellow in Sweden named Caldwell. His first name was Elder. He always wore a suit, and he said he was a Mormon. We had a lot in common, except his name was Caldwell. Mine was, and is, something else. This Elder Caldwell was a nice fellow. I liked him. Didn't run into him all that much, but we were in the same zone for a while, and he seemed like a swell guy.

One evening, my companion and I traveled down from our northern area to a less northern area so we could be closer to zone conference the next day. You know how it is, getting on a four hour train at four in the morning. We decided to skip that. So we went and slept over with some other like-minded guys. Elder C was one of them. We two got along, and our companions got along, so they talked all night and we talked all night. Well ya know, until 10:30 anyway. As the evening wore on, it comes to my attention that he has a younger sister who was my age (he was older, you see) and she was widely reputed, by him, to be the kind of girl that "most guys would give their right arm for." Man, I was sold. He even showed me a picture. Yep, she was a girl alright.

At this point in my mission, I wasn't getting too much lovin' from the girls back home. So I think to myself, "Hey, I should totally write her," and he thinks to myself, "Yeah you should." So he gives me his home address, and I write her a letter. Never got an answer. Dern it. Totally forgot about it months ago.

Then today I'm looking for old mission buddies on facebook, right? I figure ol' Elder C is back by now, I look him up. He doesn't seem to be there. But I see this girl with his same last name... and her name is the same as his sister's... and she's going to BYU... and she looks remarkably like the one picture I ever saw... and I'm thinkin', "Dude... it's that chick!"

Then I think, "Dude... why does she have another name after Caldwell, and why is she cuddling with that guy in her profile picture?" Then I think, "Dude, why do you think? She's hitched." So I guess that's the end of that particular venture.

Darn two-timer. I sure dodged that bullet, eh?

Faith, Hope and Charity

Earlier today, during church namely, namely during the Elders' Quorum lesson, we were discussing Christ-like Attributes, as they are presented in Preach My Gospel. The first one to come up was charity. Oh, charity. For part of the discussion I ended up pondering to myself that the greatest of faith, hope and charity is the latter, and compared that to how they're all so intertwined. I suddenly found myself wondering what they'd become without each other, and realizing why we need all three. I pulled out a scrap of paper and came up with the following:

Faith w/o hope = despair. We know the existence and justice of God, but have no hope of salvation, leaving only the expectation of damnation.

Faith w/o charity = hypocrisy. We know God and declare His teachings to be true, but fail to live the greatest commandments.

Hope w/o faith = unfounded optimism. We feel sure of a future, a bright one, but have no sure reason for that belief. This makes for a golden investigator.

Hope w/o charity = selfishness. We desire and expect salvation, but have no concern for the rest of the race, and any service given is hollow, given only to display one's own obedience to the law.

Charity w/o faith = Incomplete charity. A spiritual gift.

Charity w/o hope = Can lead to either an "carpe diem" attitude, motivating us to make the most of the time given, and help others as much as we can before whatever end comes, or it could lead to a doomsday attitude, in that we love everybody, but have no hope of their happiness, believing we're all doomed together to some unhappy fate. Either way, such charity is indubitably sincere, showing love without expecting pending retribution.


That's what I got so far. I am, though, not a prophet. No, really, I'm not. So this is sort of a rough draft on something I think will really boost my understanding of a lot of things. So I was thinking I'd post it on here and see what y'all had for insights. For myself I was surprised that, even though it's the basis of pretty much everything in existence, faith without the other virtues was decidedly negative in both cases, while the other virtues without faith seemed relatively okay, producing Doctrine & Covenants 123:12 sorts of people. Hope shows both sides, being able to both gladden or sour a life. Charity, though, is apparently a universally positive virtue, a great blessing even alone, and a great enhancement when combined with other virtues. Anybody with anything to add, comment away. Anybody who thinks I'm mistaken on any point, really comment away, cause I'd hate to have false doctrine running through my head, ya know?

And.... that's that. Bedtime.

Going corporate

Okay people, big changes going on here. Not really. Just one. And it's not that big. I don't think so, anyway, I can't even see it. You'll have to let me know. I've decided that so many faithful readers are seeing my blog everyday that it'd be practical to add adsense to it! I hope you're all as excited as I am. Pretty much, if you see a targeted ad that strikes you as amazing, you click it, and I get a quarter or something. Or if you're just feeling generous, click it for kicks. But I didn't say that. Cause you're not supposed to unless you're really considering the ad. But... I mean, there's no but... but there is... you know. Mostly I just think it's funny to have it there. And I wouldn't mind having an extra fifty cents around the house.

In other news, Reid started a blog, for those who know him. It's super thrilling. It's on my blog list. Don't forget. I look forward to his insights.

Guest speaking in my homeward

So I gave a talk today in church. My topic was something like "How the Lord changed your heart and turned you into a new person on you mission, and what you did before and during your mission to allow this to happen, and what you're doing now so that he can continue to do that." I was pretty iffy when I found that out, but it went okay. I think it was probably at least ten minutes instead of the required five. I also think it was probably the first time I've been a speaker in a sacrament with verses cut out of the intermediate hymn, and the last speaker cutting his remarks short. Anyway, it was grand.

I celebrated my success by being turned down by a girl. I think that brings my record since coming home to 2 dates requested and 3 rejections. Not bad, eh? So I walked out of priesthood minding my own business, headin' for home, and there was a girl in yon hallway on my way outside. She comments on my talk, I express my gratitude at her comment, and that was that. But she was walking towards the same door I was, still a ways away. So we walk... we turn a corner, she takes it kinda slow, so we end up pretty much side by side, with nothing to say to each other. So I ask how she's doing. She answers with "Pretty good, I just got a boyfriend on the fourth of July." What does a guy say to that? "Me too" or "Really? Cause I'm single" or "Well flip, I was just gonna ask you out after you moved out of my way so I could get to my truck and drive home to food and bed, but I guess I won't." I opted for "No kidding, happy holidays, huh?" and figured it couldn't get much more awkward so I added that "I haven't had a boyfriend for a really long time" just to see what happened. She laughed harder than the comment merited, as did I, and she walked to her car as I stepped around to get to mine and that was the end of the adventure.

Tanya suggests that next time that happens I say "Really? Well I'm getting married on Friday!" and really I'm hoping that I find myself in that situation at least once more just so I can say that. Come on BYU.

Way better than acupuncture!

So last night I go out to grab some Bottlecaps so I can properly enjoy my late night viewing of Miracle. No Bottlecaps at the store. But they do have 3 for $3 going on other movie box candy. Seriously, I saved like thirty cents, who could resist that? So I got some strawberry whoppers, some milkduds, and some Runts. Runts are a decent substitute for Bottlecaps, I feel.


I buy it all, I come home, I internet for a bit, I bed down and start enjoying my movie and the whoppers. I end up eating almost the entire box. Crazy. So I stop and eat some milkduds instead. Not a lot of them, but some. didn't touch the Runts.

I wake up this morning, and man do I need to brush my teeth. You wouldn't believe the intensity with which I needed to brush my teeth. I've also got some sort of cramping going on down in the ol' abdominal area. Not fun. As the day progresses I realize the negative feelings are going away. It felt like sin. I thought maybe eating whoppers was a sin. Then I remembered that they're just really unhealthy, and that's probably why my soul hurt. It just wouldn't go away, I brushed more, I ate healthy food, but I just wanted to give up and slothify myself the rest of the day. Which is pretty much what I did.

But I thought, after a while, upon my past experience with eating candy and watching movies long into the night. It had almost always been bottlecaps. So I try some Runts. And you know what? I felt better! I accidentally ate the entire box in a frightfully short amount of time, but I didn't feel sicker, I felt healthier! My soul was recovering! Soul food! Willy Wonka candy has medicinal properties, how about that! I couldn't keep this amazing find all to myself. It works at least with runts and bottlecaps. I don't know if that falls into western or eastern medicine, but dang it, it should fall somewhere, cause it works!

I just hope that somebody, somewhere out there can benefit from this unpleasantly earned knowledge. I know I will.

Lediga dagar...mums.

Someday I may well end up writing a children's book about the silly youth who wished it could be a day off every day, and that youth got his wish, and 365 days later he sure was glad to go back to work again. They say that's the way Christmas would work. I doubt it, but if it is, it's probably the way days off work too. I certainly hope I get the chance to find out one day. But not cause I can't get a job. Cause I don't need one. That's what I'd prefer. To not need a job.

Anyway, today was grand. I had the day off. You may well have surmised this already. So i woke up around 8:30 and was all pepped up for all the great things I'd accomplish. I deposited my paycheck successfully, that's about it. Went to Walmart for a new head for my electric toothbrush, but they didn't have the one I wanted. Seriously, Walmart, come on. So I came home and ate a box of Runts (mmm, health food) and fell asleep on the couch lying on my back. Then I woke up and tried to arise, but ending up sleeping on my right side. Then I woke up and tried to arise, but ended up sleeping on my left side. Then I woke up and succeeded in arising, and fell asleep on the couch upstairs instead. Stuff like this kept happening until about three hours had gone by, it was 4:00 when I finally finished sleeping. So then I tried to multitask to make up for lost time, didn't get much done, and decided to just officially take it easy the rest of the day. And I have. And it's been delightful.

And I finally figured out how to put videos on my blog, like as a feature of the blog, not part of a post. So I put one up. Rock on. It's a neat video. You should watch it. All two of you who read this. It's a good song. I'd sing it to my girlfriend, only excepting I don't have one. I don't even have two.

Church today

Today was Sunday. We all know what that means: Church, woohoo! I finally made it to sacrament meeting today for the first time in three weeks. It was good. I wished we'd've sung the patriotic songs, it being that time of year, but we didn't. We did, however, sing other songs and listen to people talk. Crazy, huh? We also had a men's choir perform Because I Have Been Given Much. It was the bomb. I was part of the choir. That means I'm part of the bomb. Or partly the bomb. I'm a bomb part. Boom.

After ye sacrament meeting, I left. But not to worry, I went to another ward. Cause I've got a high school buddy that just got back from his mission to Sacramento Spanish speaking. Nick Smith. Good guy. So I went to his ward and he gave his homecoming address and it was real neat. I sat alone. I didn't expect that. Fortunately there were three others I know sitting in the back. There were going to be more people coming up from Provo, but apparently their car broke down. So they didn't get there. Cause of the broken car. As for those of us who did get there cause our cars didn't brake, we went to his house afterwards, and turns out his mom is half Swedish and half Norwish, so there were Dala horses and such around the kitchen and a sign that said "Welcome to our home" in Swedish. I translated it and everybody was really impressed.


The End.

A second post? Two of them?!

Man. Two whole posts. And here it is a full long month after I wrote the first one. Ah, how life does fly upon the tender wings of time. I wish I could fly upon the tender wings of time. I wish I could fly at all. At the moment most all I can do is walk. I can jump a little bit. I can drive too, but I don't actually have a car at the moment. But life, yes, life certainly does fly with unspoken majesty through the trials and pleasures of this existence, ever an inspiration to the soul of aspiring man.

Golly. Blogging is awesome.

A guy goes through life, he works his job, he gets done what he needs to get done. But progression? That requires thought. Assessment. What am I accomplishing, this guy might ask himself, or better yet, simply What am I? Who am I? Who was I before, Am I better or worse for what I've done since, Where will I end up at this rate, Who do I want to become and Am I on my way?
Well, I'm a guy. I like to progress. So I think and assess. And what do I conclude? That I haven't been on a date in, now that I think of it, exactly eleven weeks. This very day, it's eleven weeks. Happy Anniversary. And the last date before that one? Long time. Years. What then, do I need to do?
The answer is obvious.
I need to start a blog.
Here goes nothing.