HUZZAH!!!

Yeah...life is good :D.

FCCLA- Family, Career, and Community Leaders of America

I just spent lunch with the future of our country...And I have to say-the future looks...Well, trendy?

After some careful observation with a friend, we've come up with some very important things you need to know if you ever plan to become a leader in your Family, Career, or Community.

Sensible shoes-wearing these makes people realize that you, too, are sensible. Also, they show that you can aspire to new heights on the inside-you don't need material goods to do it.

Jean Skirts-wearing these shows that you're in touch with the pulse of the people, without actually stooping to their level. You're wearing jeans AND a skirt-how much more do you want?

Hunting Jacket-don't wear these, it just screams "I HATE ANIMALS!!!" You're not going to get anywhere with animal lovers hating you too much.

Teddy Bear-carry one of these, because it shows that you're compassionate, and you love animals. Either that, or it shows that you need one of the next with you...

Mommy-it's ok to let her stay home after awhile...Really. She probably gets sick of hanging around anyway.

Lip Ring-far to distracting when speaking...And gross looking. Which brings us to...

Language (Crap, Ex-lax)-if you call your friends ex-lax as a term of endearment...I don't want you. Also, if you use the word 'crap' you're clearly a potty mouth and have no business being around people of high repute.

crap...

Ice Cream-do not follow everyone else to the ice cream machine. If you do, you are a lemming, and you obviously promote obesity in America...Obviously.

Whimsical Shoes-now, these need to be sensible tennis shoes with blue, yellow, and green swirls on them. These shoes will not likely get you the ultimate leadership opportunity-though they may allow you to work your way into congress or something. I think quirky might work for that.

Collared Shirt-You have to have a collared shirt...And a tie-otherwise, how on earth are people supposed to trust you? Well, if you're male-girls need a skirt. The skirt suit on girls says "I'm a business women" a lot more than it screams "elect me!" though.

Untucked Shirt-guys shirts must be tucked in. The flap in the back that covers your backside indicates that you're looking to cover your own behind before looking out for the team. While this may be a statement of truth, you want people to at least believe you're entirely sincere.

Puff Paint-Don't use this, it just makes you look like you tried to be crafty without any real tools available...

Yeah, those are the things I learned. Shallow? Critical? Cynical maybe? It's always possible...But Uffish is revealing werf's gender today, along with 'nyms-I'm sure you guys are MUCH more interested in that anyway. :)

Driving Them Crazy

I think I'm starting to understand why it is that parents have a hard time when their children finally reach the "driving stage" of life. I know that my poor parents had no ability to replicate what I could make our small four door car do. That car hiccupped, wiggled, jumped and jived...though not often in a movement conducive to regular road travel. Sad day...at least for them. I actually didn't get my license until I was 19-this summer, in fact, right before coming back to school. Finally, I could drive.

It's funny how that made me feel different...even though it didn't really change anything about life...I still didn't have a car, I still use UTA, and I still enjoy walking.

My poor friend though, is currently in the "learning to drive" stage. For the sake of everything, let's call him Buddy.

In Buddy's family, you're not allowed to get your learners permit until you've gotten your Eagle, or your YW medallion. Buddy had just finished up presenting his project to the council, and was waiting in the Honda for his mom to come out once she was done with everything she needed to do.

Now, it was cold outside, as it tends to be this time of year. and Buddy decided that it'd be good to turn on the heater-a sensible choice, for a sensible young man.

He tried to turn on the heater and for some reason he thought he had to turn on the car...I don't know why he thought that...

He somehow popped the clutch and careened over the parking stopper thing, over the corner of a short brick wall, between 2 parked cars (he dinged one), past Scouters standing in the parking lot, through two parked cars scrapping and denting the passenger door (but missing the pickup that would have totaled the Honda and hurt him), past the parking lot blacktop edge, past 2 trees into the field about 1/2 way to that little church next to the scout office.

Apparently he didn't know how to stop the car and when he tried he hit the gas instead of the brake, and so he just turned the ignition off as soon as he made it through the parking lot.

Seems like a logical solution to me. Poor Buddy now doesn't really have any desire to drive...which is sad. I'm sure he'll do fine after a little bit of Driver's Ed, and some practice with someone who can tell him what he's doing...

Poor guy-best of luck Buddy...driving really can be quite enjoyable.

"What is it? Night of the Weirdo's?"

Oh man...I'll let J get this one, but I just have to say that European Techno dances and trips to IHOP with good friends make life grand.

Also, Wal-Mart only likes you if you're buying something...go figure.

And one more thing: Sometimes we really do need to lean on someone...thanks guys :D.

Teach Me all That I Must Do...

I'm really glad that my mother taught me how to do the things she expected me to do. She has very high expectations, granted, but never without first showing me how to do the things she asked.

I saw a mother today with her son, who, I would guess, is going to be starting classes in the summer. She walks up with her son to the registration desk, and barks, "Well, tell them what you need!" He looks taken aback, and scared to be on campus already, and then he looks at her with fright and says, "I don't know what I need." Poor kid; I'd be scared too!

That's not even all of it.

The woman then pushes this poor kid out of the way while rolling her eyes and says, "We need one of those registration books." The two girls working behind the counter don't know what she's talking about, and so they both attempt to clarify for a little while before determining exactly what it is that she wants. They explain where to find it, and she drags her poor son off to some other part of the building.

I certainly hope that I'm never like that as a mother, not even on the really, really bad days. No wonder some of the freshmen look so scared...

In other news, I'm changing my major. After wrestling with physics for a few semesters, I've realized that the hands on experimental stuff I love, but the tests and homeworks: blech! Then I realized that I probably shouldn't be placed somewhere making people do the things that I don't like. History teaching is still a go, but so is a trip to the Counseling Office to see if there's anything else that's right up my alley. Major changing's in the air...

She Should Teach Lessons...

How's this for equality between the sexes?

I take a 2.5 hour class every Wednesday. This past Wednesday, I witnessed a girl who can only be described with an analogy. Girl : Getting Digits :: Sheriff of Nottingham : Collecting Taxes

I'm not kidding.

I took some notes, mostly on stuff that we were talking about in class, but I also took note of her ritual. Watch for it boys, lest you too fall under her spell.

She comes into class a few minutes late, and sits next to a good-looking guy below me. I'm guessing they might have been vaguely acquainted beforehand, but I'm not sure. They're talking and being slightly flirtatious, and about 10 minutes after she sits down, she's scratching his back and they're getting along just fine. At one point she does the following:

1. Reach down slowly for bag
2. Pull out chap stick (blistex perhaps?)
3. Place chap stick back into backpack
4. Pull out sweet scented oil (OK, some would call it simply lotion)
5. Begin to use it- large dollop in hand first, then slow motions over arms and hands, rubbing particularly on elbows and fingertips.
6. Re-insert lotion in bag, and sit back to take notes again.

I think I may have even detected an elbow brush.

For some reason, the guy has to leave at the break, about an hour and a half into class. He gets up with a charge for her to "call him" and leaves. Not 5 minutes after guy #1 is gone, guy #2 enters the scene. He sits in the recently-vacated seat next to her, and they start talking.

I start paying attention to class much more hard-core at this point, and about 15 minutes later, I look down in time to see her receiving a business card from this guy with his number on it, and she starts the same ritual listed above again. "Lotioning and oiling, oiling and lotioning!"

Apparently though, it works...because she didn't have to get up once, and she came out of that classroom with two numbers, and the request to call them both...

Cheese it-The Cops!

How do I get myself into these situations?

Ok, so last night started off well enough. There was a nice trip to see the very funny Divine Comedy, and then an excursion to Smiths for Ice Cream and Brownie mix, provided by a fellow writer. (Not named to protect his pseudonym...Don't even try and be sly there friend :) We were playing games in Smith's and picking out toppings. I was standing in front of the display of the hot fudge toppings, with some of the strawberry ones too, and somehow, I managed to knock one of the strawberry topping jars off the counter, while holding the hot fudge in my other hand. I caught the first jar of strawberry topping, and then tried to catch the next one that fell, and dropped the first, and then tried to catch the next suicidal strawberries thing, and the second one fell. All told, I ended up splattered with strawberry topping from the two shattered jars on the floor. Novel Concept's a klutz on isle 10, clean-up on isle 10...

Then it was back to my place of residence to make the brownies and eat the ice cream. Other friends who'd gone to see a later showing of DC came and joined us, and though some freshmen didn't exactly do things that were intelligent, or cool...(Oh well, what can you do?) the experience was still generally enjoyable. Then it was midnight, and time to climb on the Maeser Building! Huzzah!

So we climb a little-pillars and such mostly, and then we started to walk towards the RB and the amazing climbing tree there. We get sidetracked by the fountain behind the visitor center, and we all sit in it (there isn't any water in it though...it was just the concrete-kind of like Greece and the old speaking forums), wishing desperately that it was some kind of hot tub, because it was real cold. We sat there and talked for a bit, getting a preview of Smurf's blog today, and Smurfs, Wiggle, and J all head off for the tree, leaving me, Uffish, BamaBeau, and Wilhelmina Wafflewitz to sit and chat for a bit longer before joining the rest. We walk towards the trees when we hear Smurfs, and J telling us that there was a police officer that had stopped at the top of the hill and who was getting out of the car. Most of us were unaware of why this was problematic...According to Smurfs, it's illegal to walk around campus after 12:00, and it's technically trespassing. Yikes! What do we all do then? We take off running in the direction of the parking lot by the athletic building. What do we see there? A car parked right by the end of the sidewalk, which we all assume are also police...The parking lights are on! This is the pathway by the outdoor tennis courts, and there are bathrooms, suddenly we all seem to realize that we've got to go...Either that, or everyone else thought that I was trying to hide in the bathroom and decided to follow suit...I honestly just had to use the bathroom...Oh well. I walk out of there, and, through the brick wall divider between the two bathroom doors, I hear Smurfs say, "that's a car with it's parking lights on, that's a bad thing, walk slowly in this direction." So we all start walking back towards the Athletic Building, and we're discussing the fact that it's apparently illegal to be on campus. Smurfs then say, no, I've been caught on campus before..." To which a voice responds from up in the bushes, "you mean like now?" DUN DUN DUN!

We all stopped in our tracks, and look around kind of nervously. I'm trying to see who it is that said the stuff. The voice then proceeds to say, 'there's a car parked at the end of the sidewalk over there, with it's parking lights on." Thank you, that's just what had prompted our retreat in the other direction...We're all still standing there just looking up at the hillside, when the voice says, "I'm totally kidding, I'm not actually police, keep walking." Oh, funny.

We decide to stop our mad running, because we would end up looking guilty(er) than anything else. The rest of the trip back to my place and the car was pretty uneventful. There was a real good rolling down the hill by the Marriott Center though...Good times there, and some bread/ramen exchanging. Everyone went home, and I went upstairs to defrost...I can't ever seem to do that all the way...

What a great life. I even stayed awake for church today...Maybe I should start doing regular hour things though...Maybe...

I Have Been Blessed...

Guys, this is one of those, "all is right with the world" kinds of posts.

I'm grateful for days like Birthdays, because they help to give you a little reminder that there are people out there in the world who really are glad that you were born. In fact, some of those people even go so far as to make you feel downright welcome in this big scary world.

Those are the people to stick with.

Thank you to all who helped make me feel so very welcome in the world today. I absolutely love the feeling of being loved.

How's that for sappy, sentimental, and "disgusting?" ;)

Spiritual Plumage and "Prohibition"

First off, thanks to BamaBeau for the awesome term. It describes exactly what it is that I've been looking to write about.

Spiritual Plumage, it's the stuff that people parade around when they talk about how spiritual they are, and they give speeches about how they love the gospel, but they never actually seem to do, or say, anything that would indicate a depth to their shallowly sported spirituality.

Everyone at BYU knows that spirituality is attractive when it's genuine. Girls really do want a guy who shares their beliefs and values, who's a worthy priesthood holder, who respects his mom and sisters etc. etc...The problem is that some people do a really good impression of spirituality...and some do a really bad one. Why bother?

Simple: Chicks dig it. At BYU, it seems that spirituality becomes a status symbol for some. It's like having the fancy car in High School, or being the one who can dress really well. It's the status of head cheerleader and varsity jock all in one. Now, some of them really do believe what they're saying, and they really do feel the emotion. This is an entirely different case, in which the guys really do deserve to have some girls impressed with them. The ones who fake however, ought to cut it out, like yesterday. Mean it, or don't do it.

Secondly, I think that media downloading, legally, or illegally, seems like it's the new prohibition in the USA. When the prohibition amendment was passed, having alcohol became fashionable, and dangerous, and glamorous. Riches were to be had, and America was out to get them. The common individual could become a criminal just by having alcohol in their possession.

Now, downloading is nowhere near THAT big, but I'd bet it's close to being as widespread. Who doesn't have a CD or something that a friend made them? Copyright laws are totally the new prohibition...

Or not at all...

Whose Side are You on?

Here's my "Sunday Thought"

Anticipation, a moment of tears
A hopeful good-bye as we left heaven's spheres
A heartfelt promise to chose him again
To resist Satan's tempting, and the carnal man.
Then the veil was drawn and we seemed to forget,
We soon broke our promise and had need to repent.
So he sent us our brother to help save our souls
And though he was mocked, with his blood he atoned.
But soon after his death, we again forgot
We used wrongly the agency for which we had fought
His words were twisted, His power was lost
His ways were perverted, and men’s souls became tossed
Until, to a boy with the courage to ask
He revealed the truth, and restored powers past
He returned His power to the hands of men
He's revealed His will to His servants, and yet
How oft do we follow, how oft do we stray?
How oft do we forget the promise we've made?
His power is with us, his gospel and church
Are here for our benefit, if we'll but put him first
No power can conquer, no lies can defame
Disciples who follow, and fight in his name.
And when the tallies are counted, and the battle is won
God will prevail, whose side are you on?

Please don't let there be Light...

I really do love late night walking, but that really has nothing to do with the title of this post.

Last night I went walking with the Shoebox and J 'round about 2:00 in the morning. This was all after the awesome night with the other Board writers at the work of the Smurfs, and then a game of poker and "Scene it" at the home of the Dynamites, followed by intermittent bits of
Oceans 11 with Phoenix and Offish intermittent because I happened to fall asleep several times).

I went home fully intent on going to sleep...after all; it was nearly 2:00 in the morning. 'Twas not meant to be however, and I headed off to walk in the fog. We decided to try and get some food, and so we headed to a particular cafe' (ooh, how hip sounding) nigh unto the Hospital. I knew exactly where we were going...which really means that I didn't have too much of a clue, but I got real lucky and we ended up in the right vicinity. We were walking around the back of the hospital and somehow ended up inside this hallway with a door on the other side with an exit sign and everything, and all the doors in the hallway had "biohazard" signs on them. I'm not quite sure how we ended up inside when we never actually went through a door to get there..but that's life I suppose. Needless to say, we decided to get out of that area, and get to where we actually trying to go.

Now this place is open 23 hours a day...and they're only closed from 3:00am-4:00am...we showed up at 3:03...sad day. Denny's was clearly the only other choice, and so we walked there, hoping for some good food, and some warmth, (at least for me, as my thighs had actually started to feel like they were freezing.

So we're in Denny's, and, oddly enough, so are a bunch of other people. The time is approximately 3:3o am. We're seated, and about 10 minutes later our waiter shows up. Turns out his name is Light. No really, I'm totally not kidding there...apparently his parents were hippies. Anyway, Light shows up to take our drink orders, and eventually comes back about 10 minutes later with Shoebox's grapefruit juice (Mmmmmm, that's good stuff), and waters for J and I.

Well, after we got our drinks, and placed our orders (which Light refused to write down-seasoned fries for J and I, some chicken thing hold the tomatoes and lettuce for Shoebox) we didn't see the Light of Denny's for about half an hour. When we did see him, it was talking to another table-hamming it up with the guys and impressing them with his less-than-BYUSA approved vocabulary...oh well.

Suddenly we hear a large crashing and clattering in the kitchen...and it certainly wasn't Santa. The cook starts screaming and yelling, and then quits. Light comes to talk to us to tell us that our food actually hasn't been cooked yet, and that it'll be another 20-30 minutes until it is. He offers us the chance to cancel the order, and then just leave, but we decided to stay...we'd walked awfully far after all. By this time it's 4:30. We finally get our nearly-warm fries and sandwich, and then we ate. Finally, around 5:00 we get our check, and we leave the money on the table and leave. Light ended up with about a $5.00 tip only because we didn't feel like waiting around in the restaurant any longer than we had to.

Overview of Costs:
Walk time: about 5 hours of sleep
Dinner: $5.00
Having something to Blog about, time spent with friends, and having a waiter whose name was Light: Priceless

Yeah, that's overdone...but it fits here...

Bathroom Pet Peeves

I'm sure none of you care, but perhaps some of you can at least relate. Here we are: Pet Peeves about the Bathroom (not necessarily in any particular order):

1. Having the water from the shower hit me directly after I turn it on. Maybe you don't quite understand what I mean. Most showers have that little switch, or pull thing that turns the shower from the main faucet to the showerhead. When that lever/switch is pulled, I can't stand to be anywhere within the range of the shower's spray when it first comes down. It literally makes me cringe. Sure, I could start the water first, and then get into the shower that way, but that doesn't happen. I usually end up pulling the lever, and then hurrying out of the way of the spray...or turning the head towards the shower wall, and then I get to walk into it at my own pace.

2. Urine anywhere besides in the toilet. I have an unusually high tolerance for gross stuff in general. If there's hair in the drain, it doesn't bother me-I just pick it up, and then throw it away. Odd gunk in the sink is fine, I take care of it, and then I wash my hands. It's simple really. The thing that I hate, not becuase it grosses me out, but because it's just rude, is urine on the toilet seat. I hate going into the Bathroom and seeing the seat spotted-granted, I don't have to deal with this at the moment, but still, yuck. I honestly don't care if the toilet seat is left up as long as no urine ends up on it when I go to sit down.

3. Speaking of sitting on the toilet seat, I can't stand when they move. You know how the bolts in the back get messed up sometimes, and the seat is no longer stationary? Drives me insane.

4. Toilet paper rolls put on the "wrong" way. I know that this one is odd...but oh well. It really irks me to have the toilet paper on the roll be there as "backwards." For me, this means that the free flap comes out the bottom of the roll, instead of gently falling over the top of it. I've gotten better about it recently-used to be that I'd change it wherever I could if it happened.

Alright, I'm done venting my frustration...

Travelogue

Benvolio's blog about moving reminded me of my travelogue that I wrote for the move across country that my family did. This was in 2001, so 4 whole years ago...almost. It's been edited for interest’s sake, hope you enjoy it.

September 8, 2001

The trip from California to Nevada was pretty uneventful, except for the slight rainstorm in the front seat...hmmm... Once we got into the Sierra's there was a lot of smoke. Even with all the roads it was steep driving-imagine being in the Mormon Battalion and having to break a path through it. Yuck! Once we hit Nevada there was a sign that said, "free dirt." We figured they were talking about the whole state. Apparently we took the scenic route. As of yet I have seen 3 animals (not running, somebody get the spatula), 6 million bushes, 5 houses, and a whole lot of highway. This way's got to be the scenic route, the other way only has 5 million bushes and 3 houses, although I've heard it's got telephone poles, which our route seems to be short of. About 100 miles into Nevada there was a town called "Perishing." By the time we saw it, we were all perishing for lack of greenery, or scenery. When we passed the "town" it had one house, and a trailer. That brings the house count up to 6, and one trailer. A little ways down the road we passed by a small river-rock house, that was covered in splotches of red paint. There were a couple of alter-like things, and an odd kind of dead-looking tree. The scary thing about the whole place was that there were stuffed things lying about in dead manners everywhere: a cow stuffed thing on the alter, a body shaped stuffed thing hanging from the tree. All these things are also splotched with red paint, as if it were some sort of "sacrificial hut." I really don't think I ever want to meet the residents of such a place. Pretty soon we passed the state prison, or "correctional facility." For some reason, there were signs all over that said, "Don’t pick up hitchhikers." I wonder why. The funny thing about the prison is that it's located off of Freedom Blvd., in Independence Valley...more like, "you can't have your independence" valley... Most of us were dreading having to go camping after 2 nights of sleeping on the floor at our house, but it all worked out when my mom found a cheap room at Motel 6. No camping tonight-YAY! We even got hot food: chicken and potatoes-in the form of McDonald's French fries. Doesn't that count as a veggie? After watching X-Men, our family went to bed, and slept (or tried to) with the dog and our Dad snoring some sort of lullaby. At about 3:30 am we all woke up, with no alarm clock...and talked a bit, then slept again, thus ending the first 331 miles of travel...only 2500 to go...oh my...

There are many, many more entries...maybe I'll keep adding if I run out of regular things to write about...

Compulsion...

I've recently come to the realization that I have compulsive habits. The one I've most recently discovered is pen chewing.

I am a compulsive pen chewer. Whenever I find that I am stressed, or feel like I can't fix some sort of situation, I chew on a pen. Usually the lid. I've got an entire collection of pens that I've chewed on through various tests and such over the years. I even chew other people's pens when they let me use them. I do it entirely without thinking...sorry guys.

Tonight I actually bit through an entire pen lid...that's the first time that's ever happened. I've bitten through pens before, the hard plastic kind that crack, but never pen lids. I then continued to bite it until it was completely mangled. Why? I'm not naturally distructive. At least I don't think I am. I guess I'm just feeling a little stressed with life right now...

...er something.

The Bias of Hindsite

A good friend of mine referred to this in a conversation a little while ago, and it made me think. My initial reaction was, "yeah, I guess it's there," until further reflection made me realize how obviously it fits into everyday life.

I would be willing to be that this is one of the most used biases. Let's look at some situations:

First, you've got movies. You sit there watching the movie, and trying to figure out what's going to happen in the end. You make a few guesses, and then, when the end comes, there's almost always at least one of your guesses that fit the ending, and so you get to proclaim yourself the most intelligent being ever, and then tell about your ability to predict movies. Sure, you may have been leaning towards a different ending first, and you may notice all the clues AFTER you see the movie, and know what they're leading to...but what do we do? We attribute it all to the predictability of Hollywood, and the intelligence of ourselves.

Secondly, you've got situations. I can't count the number of times that I've been reading the scriptures, or studying about the pioneers, and then thought, "that was really dumb, if they'd have just tried to do things like this, then that wouldn't have happened." What happens to me later? I end up in a situation where I do something stupid, and people turn around and ask me why I did what I did. Usually, I don't have a good answer for it, but I can think of a million things that I could have done instead, and even should have done instead, as can almost anyone else that I talk to. In the end we get about 4 million different solutions to a problem that's already gone. Yeah, hindsite is 20/20.

There are times when this Bias isn't a bad thing though. It's what you've got to use to learn and progress in life. Though it, you start to see patterns and such, and then you end up (in theory) learning from those patterns what went wrong, so that you can improve your foresite...not a bad concept. I sure do wish I was better at it though...

Twenty Nothing

Hello all,

The Book of Novel Concept
1. And it came to pass in the 209th year of the reign of the presidents, in the first month on the 26th day, there came forth a daughter unto a Couple of Older Concepts, who dwelt in the Land of Lincoln.
2. And behold she was raised like unto Nephi, in that her parents were also goodly and she was taught somewhat in all their learning...

I have come to you today with a deep and important question. I soon celebrate my exit from teenagedom, and move into the kindom of the twenty nothings. In case you don't know where it is, it's located somewhere between the kindom of adult and the kindom of upper teen. In the Mormon neighborhood, there are very few young men who inhabit the kindom of twenty nothing...well, they inhabit it, but they don't have time for regular life-activities.

As I begin to pack up all my crayons and toys, and start to move out of teenagedom, I wonder what it is that I should do to celebrate. Should I do something immature and reckless, in typical teenage style, or should I do something....well...adult-ish?

This is where I ask for your help. What exactly should adult-ish people do?

Alarm Clock Stuff 2...This Time it's Not Alarm Clock Stuff 1

I just thought I'd let you all know that I figured out one way that I DEFINITELY don't want to wake up.

My neighbor's alarm clock is one that works through her stereo, and it gets progressively louder if it's not turned off. this means that if no one turns it off, pretty soon it's blasting loud enough for everyone with eardrums and a proximity nearer than China to hear.

It went off this morning around 6:00...

I think I'll stick with "Return to Me" on Saturday mornings...and maybe try out a little "Zombie Jamboree" the rest of the week...I'm still open to suggestions.

Return to Me

I've been struggling for a while now to see why it's so difficult for me to get up in the mornings.

I did the whole early morning seminary thing, 5:45 every morning for 2 years, about 6:30 or so for the other 2. I figured as I set up my different schedules that there was no good reason that I shouldn't be able to make an 8:00 class. "After all," I say to myself confidently, "You're planning on teaching school, and most schools start at least that early, best to get into the practice of it now."

Too bad that's not the way it works for me.

I stay up until all hours of the night, doing most anything but sleeping. Sometimes I read blogs, sometimes I chat with friends, sometimes I'm reading a book...sometimes I'm doing all these things.

Sometimes I even do homework. :D

I even like school, that's the funny thing. And I like to be awake in the morning. But when that alarm clock rings and tries to pull me from the comfort of my 3 fleece blankets, 4 regular pillows and body pillow, there's just no desire in me to heed it's call. This morning, I realized a small part of my problem.

I have one of those fancy-type alarm clocks with the CD player in them. Currently, I've got the soundtrack from the movie Return to Me in there. The first song ("Return to Me") is the one that plays, and it starts with a nice little intro, and then the words "retuuurn to meeee" are the only ones that I ever get to. This is the problem.

When I first awaken, I'm not thinking about the joys of learning, or the fact that I'll probably run into at least one friend on my way to class. I'm thinking about the warm bed that I just left behind, and the words "retuuurn to meeee" only serve to beckon me back into the warmth of my covers.

It doesn't matter that I know that I soon need to head off to class, and it doesn't matter that I WAS perfectly determined the night before to get up and read that last little bit of the assignment when I was feeling "more awake." I fall right back into bed every single time.

Maybe I should try waking up to "Good Morning Life" instead...Anyone else have some good suggestions for good "get your lazy warm self out of bed and do something with your life" songs?

Hello, my name is Novel Concept, and I'd like to release a statement.

Being one of the newer writers on the Board has placed me in a sort of "limbo" type of world. I still read the everyday posts, and then I log in and get to answer the new questions too. I get the best of both worlds in my opinion. I've come to know and love the 'nyms on the Board, and the personalities they portray, and now I get to know and love the people behind the 'nyms too.

And make no mystake about it, I do love the people behind the 'nyms.

Honestly, I haven't yet met a writer who doesn't meet with my satisfaction and approval as a person. I'm sure you were all waiting on the edge of your seats for that one, but there it is. You may scoot back in your chairs now.

What a great thing the Board is. I mean, I guess it's just a website when you look at it entirely literally, but it's the people behind all the words that make it what it is. We've got amazing writers, and a varried and diverse group of readers too. I love it. It makes me feel like there might be some hope for actual communication possibility among more of the general populace. Sure, the anonymity makes one braver, bolder, and more daring with their prose, but there's something refreshingly honest about the whole thing. The Board to me is (barring a few obvious character 'nyms) just real. I always looked at the writer 'nyms and kind of imagined the people behind the 'nyms, and was amazed as I met them to find that I wasn't too far off the mark. I have, in fact, been quite pleased to find that, as cool as I've thought people are, I like them even more as I get to know them better.

And that's what the Board is really all about. Sure we answer a lot of trivial questions, but even those show some of the personality of the asker. You can tell a lot about a person by learning what piques their curiosity, and that's where the readers come in. I always get excited to meet people who like to read the Board as much as I do, because, I'm still definitely a reader in a sense as well.

And that's what I like: the communication, the chance to get answers to questions that some think are rhetorical, and to learn what people that I've come to respect think about things. The best part of it is that we actually have fun with it. It's smart humor, and I don't ever feel guilty for indulging myself in it, because I really do learn things. There was a discussion about how to get wax out of tablecloths once...I actually ended up using that during Thanksgiving break.

I think I've run my time long, but I think you all are great, readers and writers alike. Thanks for an amazing thing.

Novel pauses and waves to all, posing for appropriate camera shots and baby kissing, and opens the conference for comments.



Yeah, I bet you were all expecting something really important with that title eh? Hehe, totally fooled all y'all. ;)

Playing Grown-Up

I just got back from a wedding reception for a couple of my friends. In this case, by a couple I really do mean 2. For the sake of the entry, we'll call them just Bride and Groom.

Bride and Groom met in the ward here in the YM/YW program. He is one year older than she is, and they both started to like each other when he turned 16. She was still 15, and so they waited about a year to start officially dating. They then dated for 2 years, and he went the way of 19-year-old worthy young men in the church, and headed on a mission. She finished high school and wrote him, and then headed off to BYU-I. She continued to write him, went through some tough stuff, kept writing, and he got home last month. She came home for Thanksgiving, about 16 hours after he was released from being a missionary, and he proposed to her 4 hours later. She left to go back to school about a week later, and then came back about 2 weeks before they got married, yesterday. In grand total they've spent about 3 weeks together in the past 110 weeks.

For me, this is WAY fast. Crazy fast! In Bride's words: "I waited a year to start dating him, two years for him to go, two years for him to get back, I don't want to wait anymore!" Granted, they both look happy, and things will likely go well for them, but looking at them gave me the sensation that they were playing dress-up. The dress and suit fit perfectly, and they did all the things that happy cake-cutting newlyweds are supposed to do, but still, it all seemed play.

Now, this could very well just be me. All my life I've looked forward to something happening in the future: going to school, moving, going to middle school, moving some more, high school, moving, graduation, college etc. And each time I get to a new place, I think, wow, when I get to the next step, then I'll really be grown up. Somehow though, at each new step, I don't feel really different. Either that, or (especially in the case of college) I go through the motions for enough time that I become accustomed to a place, and then I become familiar with it, and then I get to be good at it. The whole, practice makes perfect thing. But I don't ever end up feeling like I'm any more grown up. I think it might be because it happens too gradually. I "play grown-up" until it becomes reality to me, at which point it's usually time to move onto playing something else. At this point, I can't realistically see myself in a wedding dress, or at my own reception, or in the temple, at least not in the near future. Good thing I've still got a couple of years.