Black. The night that ends at last.

I’m rushing through the apartment trying to think of everything I may possibly need at my parent’s place in Logan. After 40 minutes of running and packing in circles I have:

Toothbrush, face soap, razor
All my normal clothes, mostly dirty
My socket tools and Haynes manual
Christmas presents
Footwear for all occasions
Church attire
Foucault’s Pendulum and The Elegant Universe

What I wished I’d remembered:

By The Hand of Mormon (I’ve been meaning to get it back to my dad for a year)
Snowboarding Gloves (I don't even snowboard)
Wizard People, Dear Reader (I just forgot that one)
Soldering Iron (What the Hell is going on? How often do you need on of those while on vacation? If you’re me...always)
Thick socks for winter activites
Push-up bars
The quart of oil I’ve been meaning to use up for over a year.

Honestly, I can’t win.

So give me one good reason Why we need to be like them.

20 ft of twine: $1.25
Half a roll of electrical tape: $1.00
An old steel bar I found in the garage: nothing

The satisfaction from showing corporate America that I don’t need them or their lousy fitness equipment: Priceless

It’s 1:00a.m., and I find I’m doing what I always do this time of night. Sit in bed and listen to the background noise. There’s a strange sense of peace that comes when the world goes to bed. I’m the kind of person that can sit and entertain himself for hours from his thoughts alone. During vacation time, school is out, work is postponed, and friends are far away. What’s left to ponder?

Everything.

I’ve talked to a few old friends as of late; everyone back home seems to have gone crazy. My old acquaintances have been home from missions for a year or two, and they’re all having emotional breakdowns. Not the kind that gets you institutionalized, the long-term kind that tells you your life has no meaning. The kind that warps your future into a big black pit, and all you can do is run. And run you do, from everything and everyone.

Yeah, you’re damn right it’s frightening, and it’s happening to way too many people right now. I’ve been a spectator in the East Tennessee charade for several years, and it bothers me that I can’t observe what’s happening out there with my own eyes. I loath building my reality through second hand accounts, but it’s all I have for the time being.

I’m eternally grateful that my lot was not the lot of my friends. I like to think that people choose their own paths, but all these recent accounts are pointing elsewhere. Why have I been so lucky? Am I smarter? Do I have better genes? Or was I just lucky enough to have parents who loved each other, who loved their kids, and understood the responsibility that comes with raising them? That’s what scares me.

If it is mere luck, where’s the justice? Do I dare ask such questions?

I'm a Roooooe-man candle, my head is full of flames

Today was not the best day at church. The last speaker was a self-righteous, ignorant, condescending [insert offensive noun]. Right before the first speaker began her talk, her cell phone rang. She apologized and commented that she was already off to a rocky start. 45 minutes later, Mr. last speaker began. He pretended to pull out a cell phone and talk on it for a solid twenty seconds. “Hi. Not much. I’m just in sacrament meeting. Yeah, things to do. So how are things going?...” He then made a comment that people should show some respect/decency and turn off their phones. For the next 20 minutes, he said nothing of even superficial significance and ran ten minutes past closing time. He ended with “This just my opinion [he elaborately throws his tie over his shoulder], but I say that the only reason the world progressed technologically was because of the light of Christ that entered it during the time of the restoration. Yep, the dark ages lasted a long time, but the gospel ended them.”

Livid, I frantically began searching for stones, rotten fruit, bowling pins, anything to serve as a projectile. How could someone prove to be such an ignorant asshole in so little time?

I calmed down and started thinking (yes, always a dangerous thing for me). “What is the Christlike thing to do?” Walking up to the guy and chucking him out of the building with my boot firmly lodged in his rectum was a little too aggressive; he wasn’t exchanging money after all. But doing nothing like my roommate suggested was too passive for something I picture Christ doing.

Throughout Sunday school, I thought of my options. Bodily harm – too much vengeance. Verbal thrashing – too much wrath. Assertive”you suck” confrontation – more about me than him. Casual “Good talk man. I loved how you forgot you weren't the bishop and publicly criticized someone outside your stewardship. I also loved how you shared your ridiculous viewpoint on history and science, topics you obviously know nothing about.” – still too vindictive. A dead end every time. I couldn’t think of anything that would be more about helping the dude than me putting him in his place happy to take down church subculture one Crisco-haired jerk at a time.

Eventually, the class hit on a chunk of D&C 121. You rebuke and then show an increase of love afterwards. I had zero love for that guy and was incidentally forced to conclude that there was no possible way to confront him in a Christlike manner.

I should have clocked him with my shoe and been done with it.

Teenage rules: they’re f$%#ed and boring.

Word has it that you can dissolve a pound of potassium hydroxide in a gallon of ethanol. I say seeing is believing, and I’m not seeing anything. I've been cleaning old glassware all week. 6 months working as a BS chemist is way too much.

But you know what? It's 10:00pm, and I can turn up Blink 182’s Take of your pants and jacket as loud as I want. Suddenly, I don't care about anything, and life is good again.

Gonna chase my dreams and catch up to them

A few years ago, I had to make a decision. “Do I want to get good at fixing things or do I want to get good at fixing people? I can’t do both.” I weighed out the pros and cons of each side and decided I would prefer to learn to fix things.

I decided that things were better to deal with professionally because they don’t have emotions. I can forget about them and come back whenever I want. Things are more intellectually progressive (for me) than people, and they are usually more useful. I feared that a career dedicated to fixing people would consume me and not allow time for a family or anything else. A career dealing with things was much more likely to be a 9-5.

Since then, I’ve been slowly becoming a thing expert, confident that I made the right choice for me. From time to time, I look back and wonder if I should have done it differently. Last night was one of those nights. I can’t remember the last time I felt this vulnerable or even this afraid. Basically, my sister had a serious reaction to some strong antibiotics prescribed by her doctor for a urinary tract infection. After the infection cleared, she developed something else. After being uber sick for over a week, the doctor decided she needed a colonoscopy. Translation: he had no idea what the hell was going on. Things went from bad to worse, and I was helpless to do anything. Finally, I called a doctor/friend and in 60 seconds knew the problem and necessary medication with 95% assurance. All it took was that tiny piece of information, but it was a piece I didn’t have and couldn’t logically deduce on my own.

So right now I can say that I do regret the decision to take the direction I have. I know there will be more days like this. Yet l also know that on most days, I’m grateful I didn’t take that direction. I think I’ll always be torn like this as I will always have a problem with being vulnerable. I need to accept the fact that no one is completely impervious. Everyone has weaknesses, and sadly, so do I.

We were perfect when we started I've been wondering where we've gone.

I just finished reading the Davinci Code. It’s definitely a fluff book but still enjoyable. I don’t know if you call it fiction or adventure or maybe fictenture. Whatever the case, the book held my attention over the weekend which is rare. It wasn’t Harry Potter captivating, and by then end, I started speed reading to keep it moving. Still, I took it out 150 pages at time.

Several thoughts. Brown says in the beginning of the book that the secrets and societies are all “real.” I think I’m going to learn a little more about them. I’d imagine that most of the things he said about Davinci and the Holy Grail were well researched. Then again, outside the Masons, Dead Sea Scrolls, Nag Hammadi texts, and Gospel of Phillip, I have to take his word for it.

AJ mentioned she had trouble with things that “attacked the church.” I can’t say I saw that. The only real conflict I did see was an emphasis on the non-divinity of Jesus Christ. Brown more or less says that Christ was like Mohammad, a great teacher whose history grew to legend status over hundreds of years only to be further twisted by politicians seeking to control the masses.

*************************************SPOILER*****************************************
Brown’s comments about Mary Magdalene (or the things he says Davinci and the Priory say) don’t seem too far fetched. So Christ was married? Duh. He had a kid? Well, I don’t know, but it makes sense. His family was forever hidden after his crucifixion then forever protected by a secret society dedicated to protect his bloodline and the secrets of the Grail? Secrets which…aren’t that important because everyone who wants to know the true story of Christ already has it. That does sound like fiction, but I don’t find it offensive.

What too read next...

I won't back down I will not bow I've come to bring you hell

So I’m getting out of the car at Macey’s, and this short Laitno man comes up to me.
“Hey, can you help me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What’s up?”
“My truck is broke down. And…”
“So you need to make a phone call?”
I can’t remember what he said next.
“You need some help working on your truck?”
“No I need some gas.”
“Well, I can give you a buck I pull out my wallet and hand him a dollar.”
“Actually, do you have more like seven or eight.”
“For a gas can? I can run home can get you one.”
“No, the gas station has one, I just don’t have any money for gas. My ATM card doesn’t work he pulls out his wallet some how proving that he’s telling the truth”
“Well, why don’t I take you to the gas station, and I can fill it up for you.”
He hesistates, then looks over at Macey’s"Don’t you need to go to the store?”
“Yeah, but I can wait He hesitates longer. If you want, I can run in and be out in ten minutes.”
Okay, let me go get the gas can.”
“Alright, I’ll see you in ten minutes”

Now, I’m quickly going through Macey’s wondering weather or not the dude will be there when I return. By the time I get to the cash register, I’m thinking, “You know, this guy might try to mug me. I doubt he’ll try it out in the open because there are cops, and he’ll have nowhere to go. That means he’ll do it in the car. He’s either going to pull out a knife or a gun, and he’ll be on my right. First he’s going to ask for my wallet.”

So what do I do? I pull out my wallet, remove the valuables, and stick them in my front left pocket. “I’m driving my roommate’s car (because my battery was dead), so I can’t let it get stolen. There is no way this guy is stronger or quicker than me, and anything he pulls out will be within arm’s reach. Hopefully it’s a gun, only one dangerous end. You know, an intelligent person would just not let him in the car, but that’s not showing any faith in humanity.”

Conclusion: Letting him in the car with the risk of an attempted mugging is better than insulting him and not showing faith in people.

10 to 15 minutes later I come out of the grocery store and he’s nowhere to be seen. I wait another 5 minutes, drive around to look for him with no luck, and go home.

“Oh, well, I tried. Do you see that?" I look up "I tried to be a good person. I tried to do what’s right. You better not for forget this. I'd better get all kinds of presents now.”* I go home figuring the guy just wanted some money but still afraid I was wrong about him and should have waited another ten minutes.

Lesson learned: I’m an idiot.

*I didn't really look up as if to speak to diety. I just thought it would be a good thing to add to the story.

Angels, lend me your might. Forfeit all my lives to get just one right.

“Does my butt sweat when I ride home?” That was the first “intelligent” thought I had today. I’m outside about to jump on my bike to go to school, and I notice there is frost on the back of the seat, the main point of contact. “Am I looking at frosted butt sweat? Gross.” The I realized that I have a hard time sweating ANYWHERE while riding the downhill mile and a half route home in sub 40 degree weather. On top of that, the back of the seat is higher than the rest of the bike and hence more susceptible to faster (read: colder) air currents. The material is some kind of synthetic leather which adheres to moisture more easily than any other part of the bike. Conclusion: I’m not a sweaty, nasty old man…yet.

Yesterday was a big day for offending people. Nothing serious but, I found myself in a very high state of mode 2. This means that though I wasn’t trying to belittle others, I showed very little sympathy for their ignorance (read: Mike talks quickly, manner-of-factly, and provides the other party with little time to respond because, once again, he’s already figured out “every” possible thought they could have on the matter and “knows” what they’re about to say.)

ere’s the list of People I probably offended yesterday

Co-workers Chris and Bryce for thinking Star Wars Episode III was an excellent film. (Among other things, I said I thought the movie was proof that Lucas can’t write a script to save his life).
Co-worker Chris for not knowing who Joaquin Phoenix and Christian Bale are.
Co-worker Bryce for not liking Raising Arizona and having an appreciation for the Cohen Brothers.
Roommate Jake for not answering his questions pertaining to my endeavors for the evening.
Roommate Jake and Ben for being pretty-boy shmoozers that girls don’t trust. They aren’t “normal” because they don’t know anything about sports. Ben didn’t even know that BYU had a winning season this year.
Salesman Ben for insulting my intelligence in his usage of 30 minutes of my time to provide 5 minutes of information.
Roommate Ben for not knowing that the U.S. helped put Saddam Hussein back in the 60's and 70's.
Roommate Ben by telling him Captain Moroni probably had family problems. I more or less told the kid that I was plagiarizing my Marine buddy’s thoughts, and that he had no right to argue because he’s never killed anyone.

So I feel a little bad, but truthfully, no one was sorely offended. Nevertheless, I could always afford to be a bit more diplomatic when I talk to people about matters they have an opinion on but poorly understand.

The limecat is not pleased. (Thanks Thirdmango).

but once the satellite's deceased, it blows like garbage through the streets of the night sky to inifinity

I stayed up talking to my roommates until 2:00a.m. last night. Among many things, we talked about me. I’ve always known that I’m good at accidentally making people feel stupid. I am also good at making them think I think they’re stupid.

As background I’m the most secure person I know, really. There is a world of things I have to prove to myself, but I have nothing whatsoever to prove to anyone else. I really don’t care that you think I’m smart, stupid, fat, athletic, whatever (I would however like you to think I’m good looking, it’s the thing I’m the most insecure about). What you think about me has very little influence on how I see myself. I have nothing to gain by making you look stupid (that is unless I just don't like you).

Anyway, I start conversations because I want to know what people think and why they think it. I’m not positive about this, but I believe I do this for one of two reasons.

1. I want to understand you.
2. You may in some way be able to enhance my viewpoint. Maybe you can help me be smarter or more perceptive. Maybe you can help me see my flaws, so I can better myself. When I’m in the second mode, the idea is the only thing that matters. I’m talking to you because you may have something useful to say.

Now, my problem here is that in this mode, things I already know (or think I know) are sometimes mentioned by the other party. "I’ve already been down that road young padawan. I know what you’re going to say, so I’m moving on. If you can’t keep up, tough luck. I don’t care about you, me, or anything else BUT the idea. It is my sole interest." If I’m not really careful, when I get in this mode, people ALWAYS think I’m being arrogant, and maybe they’re right. I do the thinking for the other person because I can do it faster and get to a more interesting thought sooner.

Note - I fully realize the falacy of such an attitude. Like I said it's a mode I fall into.

I’m thinking about this right now because I had another fluids test last night. I’m notorious for treating tests like I treat people when I’m mode #2. I out think them or think for them. Rather than staying in the realm of the known, I venture to the unknown. This often includes mechanisms that don’t exist, incorrect extrapolations, and logic jumps into bottomless pits. The reason I don’t know this problem ISN’T because I missed something (i.e. the unknown). The reason I don’t know the problem is I’m on a tangent. If I can back up for a second and stick to what I know for certain, I can almost always figure it out.

Last night was a text book case of trying to out think the problem:
1. I see a problem I don’t immediately know how to do.
2. None of the simple solutions work.
3. In a last ditch effort, I start trying to fit the square peg in the circular hole (it never works).
4. Feeling I’m out of options, I panic and mental fatigue sets in.
5. I pull out a bigger hammer and start hitting the peg harder.
6. I miss the problem.

I’m not going to let it ruin my weekend, but I am very angry at myself and will probably be fuming in coulda/woulda/shoulda land for the rest of the weekend.

and freedom yells, it don't cry.

So I had a Carne Asada burrito at Gualbertos for lunch yesterday. The thing was a bit heavy on the cilantro, and let me tell you, it set off something fierce in me.

This part is rather disgusting, so proceed at your own risk.

I don’t know what the deal is. I’ve had more health issues in the past month than in the past two and a half years. First it was my hand, then losing my voice, then food poisoning, and now the cilantro from Hell. That stuff made me burp some kind of funk ALL DAY LONG. My poor roommates. I could have happily lived the rest of my life without knowing what releasing massive quantities of gas from both ends of my gastrointestinal tract for an entire day felt like.

Late that night, I had hopes that all was processed. Nope. I woke up at 2:00am somewhat bloated. Once again, desperate times called for desperate measures, and I sent that vile material (and the day’s dinner) to the throne of justice and slept peacefully all night. When I woke up around 7:15, I found the cilantro had not yet fully relinquished its hold on my inards. Two words: Liquid Fury. Now, though probably brief, I’m back to normal. Bland foods are looking better and better these days.

So have another drink and drive yourself home.

So I took a chiding jab at this kid on Blue Beta, and he got super offended. I didn’t mean for him to interpret it so harshly, but I should have known better anyway. It got me thinking about taking offense.

How much of it is a choice? I can walk down a street, note that no one is looking me in the eye, and get offended because “all these Christians must care about nothing but themselves.” Or I could conclude differently that people are busy, shy, intimidated, or basically any other adjective in the book. No matter what I conclude, that conclusion is up to me as is my reaction.

On a more extreme side, say offense is intended. Say someone comes up to me, calls me a dirty man-whore, informs me that I have an ugly mother, spits in my face, and walks away. Once again, I could conclude, “all this guy cares about is himself and his self-righteous morals. Damn him for not knowing that selling my body is the only way to feed my family of 15 and that my mom has a genetic disorder*.” I could also conclude the guy is confused, deranged, intoxicated, or basically any other adjective in the book.

I guess I should put taking offense up there with worrying. One does it completely at his/her will consequentially gaining nothing but destructive feelings. That said, I should be more careful and remember that right or wrong, smart or stupid, some people should not be antagonized.

*I don't actually have 15 kids, and my mother is quite pretty.

Sometimes these fantasies come true, and now the whole thing misses me.

Yesterday, I had a “honey ham and cheese panini” at the Tanner building. Sounds safe, right? I started feeling a bit queasy afterwards (now I’m thinking it was an omen). I drank a bunch of water and ate my apple a few hours later. No change. I go home at like 8:00 still feeling nauseous. I had some toast with margarine and brown sugar. Turns out that kind of food isn’t good for an upset stomach. After lying in bed for a couple hours without feeling any better, I decide it’s time to bring out the big guns, or fingers so to speak.I commence cramming my fingers down my throat and have the displeasure of tasting everything I ate that day a second time. Apparently, I wasn’t being quiet enough because one of my roommates came in the bathroom and gave me a glass of water to rinse with. What a guy. The one thing that never came out was the ham sandwich. I’m guessing it grew tentacles and fused to my stomach lining. I slept like crap the whole night. This morning I slowly threw myself onto my bike and peddled to school. While walking down the halls, I notice my hamstrings and butt are pretty sore. I like to think that most of my muscles are pretty active, but maybe my puking ones are out of practice. Hmmm.

Now something a little cooler.The length of the lines are earth time (all the same). You can spend your engergy getting older or moving through space. The units mean nothing right now. Eventually, I think I'm going to use equations, but for now, qualitative pictures will have to do it.

Now the length of the lines represent the relative speeds at which you travel. The faster you go, the more earth time you use up..

You've got the GPA but where is the dirty love?

I did it! I get it! I think I can finally VISUALIZE the fourth dimension. Granted, I have to condense the spatial dimensions, but I can finally show you special relativity with a simple graph…sort of. I started to post it, but I think I better work on it a little more. Okay, so it’s not so easy to show, but soon, all shall understand…I don’t know if it’s the fact that Greene is a good author or that after reading about this kind of stuff since I was a freshman, it’s finally solidifying. Probably some of both.

I’ve decided that I’m the kind of person that makes up his mind quickly. It’s a blessing and a curse. I’m about to lay down a bunch of thoughts, so I don’t suggest you read on unless you’re really bored.

After eating lunch with her twice and talking on the phone for 5 minutes, I’ve unofficially decided I’m done with AJ. There’s nothing per se wrong with her. She’s just like the majority of the girls I’ve gotten to know/dated out here in Provo. Pretty, smart, and….well…nothing. I’m finding that as I get older, what I thought were the most stable parts of me are still changing. Maybe I’m finally hitting puberty.

Last night we had this ward banana split social. I’m talking to this girl my roommate went after for a few weeks past. She’s definitely what I’d call a smart girl. Sociology major, plans on going to law school, full tuition scholarship. Not bad I guess..

Now, I don’t believe in categorizing people, but I’ve inadvertently developed these tests (I rarely use them on purpose; they just come out) that allow me to gauge things like movie smarts, general intelligence, or “could you in some alternate universe date Mike.” The tests don’t characterize people in my mind, but if I were to look at all the people I’ve become friends with in over the past three years, I would say the tests read “very yes” 95% of the time.

The one of the general intelligence tests works a little like this:

I find out what you’re interested in and/or what you do professionally/academically. I ask you what you’ve been working on most recently and what kind of significance it holds to you. The response is one of two things.

1) “I’m writing reports on doing research about the trends in the book on the research about the subject focused on the research leading to writing reports on the observations of the surveys on the ideas about the notions leading to the research centered on the ideas…blah blah blah throwing in a four syllable word or two.” “So what have you learned?” The first meaningless chain of words gets repeated. “What kind of conclusion have you found?” “No conclusion? Where do you think all this is leading then.” Ten minutes and a few similar questions later, I get a real response if I’m lucky.

2) I’m studying/working on X. Y are the things it’s leading to. Z is why I think it’s cool. Productive, interesting conversation ensues.

I get 1 from “smart” people all the time. A person’s ability to give a 2 is my litmus test for intelligence. Intelligent people can perceive the world around them and adapt easisly. That’s why they have good senses of humor. They are good at getting to the point and don’t waste time on space-filling jabber. I think sometimes “smart” people still haven’t thought enough about what they’re doing to condense it into something meaningfull. Hence the flakey “book smart” people. Intelligent people seem to understand themselves enough to pay attention their surroundings without getting overloaded. It takes a smart person to understand and regurgitate, but it takes an even smarter one to reiterate, interpret, and condense.

As you can see, this post is proof that I’m not an intelligent person. Intelligence is, nevertheless, a goal.

As a side note, my intelligence test isn't always accurate. Sometimes the testee (Ha, I said "testee") simply wasn't ready to talk about said topic.

One day you’ll see her and you’ll know what I mean. Take her or leave her, she will still be the same.

I’m happy right now:

Girls still have a tendency to blow things out of proportion.
I was able to keep promises of old without killing anyone.
We found a blueprint for a tornado modeler.
I can eat dinner for $3.44 at Gualbertos.
Poetasters is always interesting.
I have the freedom at work to do one thing at a time without fear of repercussions from bosses with no common sense.

Son of sam, son of a shining path, the clouded mind

Weekend review:

I SHOULD have brought my book camping. We arrived at the hot springs at like 9:30, so there wasn’t much time for reading then. The water was blissful, and getting out was what you would expect. My feet were pretty numb by the time I made it back to my truck. I changed and cranked up the heater. The three girls soon joined me, and let me tell you, 4 four people crammed in the regular cab of a compact pickup is um…personal. The night was full of shooting stars, coyotes, one policeman (wanting to make sure we were fully clothed), and some Cedar City people. The extra sleeping bags went to two of the girls and one of the other dudes (8 people total). So I made use of my fleece sleeping bag (rated for 60 degrees Farenheit), my college blanket, and a ground pad. Not quite enough for sub-freezing temperatures, but I’m not very smart that way. As always, I opted to sleep under the starts in the back of my truck. Surprisingly, I was almost warm at one point during the night. Without good insulation, you can’t keep heat around your feet, so I more or less struggled unsuccessfully to keep them warm all night. I was up as soon as the sun came up with nothing to do. Like I said, shoulda brought that book. When one of the other guys got up, we decided to get back in the hot springs and not get out until the sun warmed up everything else. Though my swimsuit was frozen solid, the pain of putting it on was quickly overshadowed by the sweet slimy warmth of the spring.

Talked to mom and finally divulged my dating life from the past 10 months. Talked to Christie - she doesn't like San Diego. No letters written, no pools visited, made a not-so-elaborate version of Chicken Tikka, The Davinci Code is on hold (surprise surprise), didn’t open my scriptures.

5/9. As I always, I can do better.

In other news, my new watch came in on Friday. It’s kinda cool, but probably more than I need. I put the heart monitor on, and I feel like I’m wearing a bra except there’s only irritation and no support (naturally, something I’m in great need of). You have to adjust it in the back and everything. I took it to the gym to see how it worked with weight lifting – not very well. While doing decline sit-ups, the thing said my heart rate was 240. If I moved my torso too much, it fluctuates by 10 or 15 beats per minute. I’m going to try it a few more times just for the heck of it. I bought it for running, so we’ll see if it ends up paying for itself.

Today's goals:
Write letters
Finish Toff SIMS report
Call AJ

On vera...

and if you fail well then you fail but not to us

I can make it to school in 9 – 14 minutes on my bike. It was raining today, so I drove. It took at least 20 minutes to get to the Clyde Building. From now on, I’m just going to leave an extra shirt in my lab, and if I get covered in mud/snow riding to school, so be it.

Weekend goals:

Write the mom, since you’re asking, I could use some decent shoes, rain jacket, and new derailleur for Christmas.
Write the Brooke, yeah sorry about that whole disappearing for 8--7 months thing.
Write Krisanne, if you don't, you'll do it instead of working next week, you can't afford that
Talk to Christie, we still love you even though you’re going to Boston for Thanksgiving
Organize the menu so I don’t keep defaulting to butter and sugar
Get back to the pool on Saturday, my lungs have to be at least 80% by now
Open my Book of Mormon before Sunday, I should support President Hinkley’s request.
“I have trouble with things that attack the church,” check out the Davinci Code and find out what she was talking about.
Bring Elegant Universe camping, wait...no, DON’T bring it. You hang out with friends to prove you CAN be social, not give them more reason to believe the contrary.

It’s always some excuse. Too tired too obtuse.

The difference between being persistent and being a stalker is whether or not you like that person. So after a month of trying to make some time to introduce me to a friend I met a couple years ago, we finally had lunch together. This girl is like I remember her (a good thing), and it went well. My buddy had to go to class, so she and I had a little more time to talk. I walked her to the office of one of her co-workers who was coincidentally a friend of mine. We chatted for a few minutes. When, I got up to leave she follows me out.

“So I’ll give you a call sometime?”
“Yeah, sure”
“This weekend is crazy. Next weekend is crazy…How about the 18^th?”
“Hmmm, I guess that’ll work. I like to think I’m too smart to need a planner, but I have yet pull it off.”
“Ok, why don’t you give me you number”
“Great, so I’ll call you whenever and we’ll go from there?”
“Deal”

So here I am.
A)Call her in a couple weeks and ask her out
B)Call her next week and ask her to go to final cut with me full knowing she probably won't have time but acknowledging that if she does like me, she'll want to go.
C)Text her next week and say “I know things are kinda busy, but would you like to have lunch again?”
D)Call her for the sake of BSing

I’m an very impatient person. If I meet a girl I want to get to know, I don’t see any point in waiting around. But if you try to go/hang out too much in the beginning, you’re coming across to strongly. Obviously, you must want to get married ASAP. You couldn’t possibly just want to get to know her better. I’ve blown it with a few girls by doing just that. I like this one, so I’m willing to be patient. Still, it’s frustrating. I'm thinking option C, but I'm going to sit on it a while.

Are we all victims of opportunity?

In life, you have these tests that appear out of nowhere. You can’t directly prepare for them, they’re always different, and you can never see them coming. You only know that you’ve had one once it’s over, and it’s about that same time that you know if you passed or failed. These moments test your character. You don’t have time for ulterior motives; you just act. Your true colors show like the noon-day sun.

For example, you’ve had a really rough day and someone cuts you off in traffic. Your mom attacks you in some unexpected way. You boss wrongfully accuses you of misconduct. These instances aren’t too rare, but I can’t think of better ones. Basically, you have to act then and there. There’s no time for planning, so you act on instinct. Do you go red and blindly strike? Do you go blue and be Christ-like? Do you go yellow/green and get offended? Do you go purple and correct with vengeance?

I have a tendency to fail such tests. Just when I have things under control, I blow it by calling someone a name, stooping to their kind of faulty logic, getting angry, walking away when I should have stayed and fought. Several times I remember being so caught up in “keeping the peace,” I let people get away with unacceptable behavior.

Anyway, today I feel I passed one of those tests.

It was a good day.

Some fires are better left unfed, some pages better left unread, some words are better left unsaid.

So all I can do now is whisper or talk like Ned from South Park. It’s crazy how easy it is to take things for granted. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I lost my voice permanently.

Last night’s Halloween party wasn’t too bad. It was at an old ward friend’s house. His dad was one of the principle authors of WordPerfect. I’ve never been in a house so big. Indoor pool, basketball court, theatre, game room, dance floor and dj booth. This was only a small piece of the basement.

I’m pretty easy going about things, but I find I’m going crazy without my watch. I lost it about two weeks ago, and I’ve become convinced that I’m a control freak when anything affects me directly. It seems like people obsessed with time are normally ultra organized and have their schedules outlined in 10 minute intervals on their PDA’s for the next three years. My case seems to be a bit more analytical for the sake of analysis. It’s just like when I go to the grocery store; I ALWAYS look at the nutritional facts. Not because I’m a health freak (though I am more conscientious than the average person) but because I simply want to know what I’m putting in my body. With time, I don’t care so much that everything is perfect; I just want to know how much time things are taking.

Did you add up all the cards left to play?

So for the first time in like two years, I think I’ve come down with something. Turns out rinsing a spoon off with hot water probably isn’t enough to kill my roommate’s bacteria. Oh well, once again, that is a lesson I already knew and didn't need to learn again.

I had a long conversation with my marine friend last night. “My testimony came from watching a man’s eyes roll back as he fell over. I went back to base and got on my knees because I had to know if I’d done a bad thing. Had I taken this man’s only chance? Had I single-handedly sent him to Hell? My testimony never could have come from a ‘positive’ experiences.”

From a guy who won’t hesitate to tell you how much he hates Pakistanis and Muslims, it was nice to see a bit more of his true feelings.

I often wonder how much of the normal “testimony” is conditioned lip service. Yep, most people don’t have the opportunity to take another’s life, and that’s a good thing. We have to build our testimonies from other things. I wonder how often people form testimonies from virtually nothing because they just want it. I do believe that God can talk to anyone. I must be careful not to discount the testimonies of people out here, but at the same time, I have trouble believing them sometimes.

Everything good about me; every bit of strength of character and testimony I’ve built over the past ten years has come from blood, sweat, and tears. It seems like the worst some people have seen is a grandmother dieing of cancer or a family member getting divorced. How can you build your soul from such “trials.” How can a person claim to have done so? It’s no wonder many out here live in a fantasy land. They have no reason not to. I must remember that people are to be served and loved, not judged and despised. Everyone encounters the dark roads, eventually.

So I walk alone, I ask no quarter friend, I walk alone til I find you again

The best part of my day has become coming home around 6:30 and turning the door knob to my apartment. If the door is locked, life is blissful. I like my roommates. In fact, though the one I’m closest to wants to move, I don’t want to go with him. I like the other guys THAT much.

I haven’t been on a date in at least a month and a half, but I feel burnt out anyway. It could be that my co-worker has been meaning to set me up with this girl I already know (from a class two years ago), but hasn’t been able to find a free moment to do so in oh I don’t know THREE WEEKS. I just hit that point that I don’t have the energy to be selfishly irritated anymore.

My next fluids test is tomorrow. Does my future depend on it? Most certainly. I’ve just got to stay calm about the whole thing.

Reminder: People in that class aren’t smarter than me; I am the master of my destiny.

I lost my watch a week ago, and it is seriously driving me insane. I put off HW for an hour yesterday to clean my room in hopes of finding it. No luck at all. It’s not that I’m obsessive about time; I just can’t stand to lose things.

Should I dress up for Halloween? I’m thinking “No.” It’s a real shame, but it’s either dumb multi-ward dances or hang out with a friend I’m trying to see less of. Maybe I’ll just disappear for the whole weekend.

Every day you're on my mind, Pain is feeling passing time

Weekend conclusions:

Interesting people believe in doing things.
You can't ever forget that people are people. Strangely, that can be a hard thing to do in this age of long distance communication.
You really can forget about people when you stop looking at their pictures, sending them letters, and getting responses.
$13 of Halloween candy is enough to kill a man, even divied up five ways. <groan>

Revelations come to people so slow Frightening

This post is truly characteristic of the heading to my blog.

Last night, Stacie and Jeri stopped by. Jeri’s sister died from a drug overdose the night before. I cannot comprehend what it must feel like. There is no solace. No reparation. No real comfort. No peace. Only a large void. No matter what you do, when a loved one dies, they’re gone. No matter how you look at it, no matter how much you cry, curse God, and writhe in you sleep, the facts remain. Being with Jeri last night was quite sobering, yet, I must still acknowledge that all trials to have purpose. Everything in my own life that has made me grow or progress in any significant way, has been horrendously difficult. Every personal philosophy, every muscle, and every ounce of mental fortitude I possess have come from blood, sweat, and tears. It is ludicrous to be grateful for trials while they are happening, but I wouldn’t trade my past for anything.

It reminds me of the altered chous to Adam's Song

I never conquered, rarely came
tomorrow holds such better days
Days when I can still feel alive
Well I can't wait to get outside
the world is wide, the time goes by
the tour is over, I've survived
And I can't wait 'til I get home to pass the time in my room alone.

Changing the subject, there’s a BB topic about never getting married. I think it's sad that there are so many people who feel they are practically worthless in the eyes of others. It’s sad that many of my friends that have the “fraud” complex. It’s sad that so few see the things about them that make them beautiful. There are others that have left Provo who I wish I could’ve met. At least I could have been one more to tell them, “No, you aren’t crazy. You have as much worth as anyone else. People are people. Rather than allow them to make you feel out of place,inferior, and angry, you should pity them and be grateful that God blessed you with perception. Yes, there is sadness and depresion in knowldege and understanding, but there is also warmth, peace, and fulfillment that will bring a joy that many others will never know."

Changing the subject again. Sometimes I feel like I need to restate my thoughts just to remind myself what matters. I don’t care about a big fancy job or degree. I don’t care about money or vacations. I don’t care about recognition. I don’t care about having the physique of an underwear model or the speed of a world class athlete. All I need is a wife, a dog, and a small piece of land away from the world. So WHY am I working towards all those other things? I guess maybe I don't feel I can attain the latter without the former. Myabe having the things that don't matter will better enable me to understand and apprciate the things that do once I find them. I don't know.

It's all i'm doing now, listening for patterns in the sound of an endless static sea

Imagine for a second that you devote your life to one sole purpose. For an entire year, everything you do and think about is in relation to your goal. EVERY minute of EVERY day and night, everything you eat, everything you spend your time on. Imagine now that the year’s preparation comes down to a 4 hour competition. You lose. For another year, you do the same thing. You lose again. A third and fourth year go by with the same results. In the fifth year you somehow find a way to continue to progress. You improve more than ever before. Your peers agree that you’ve hit a new level. You know that this year is going to be the one. You lose again. What do you do next? Are you an idiot or are you inspiring?

Like I said simultaneously everything that’s right and wrong with sports.

Some good friends came over for dinner last night. One of them is still in love with her old boyfriend who just got back from a mission in August. He wants to maintain a close friendship but doesn’t want to date her. This is understandable because who in their right mind knows what they really want at 21. Still, it’s tearing my friend to pieces because she can’t move on until there is some level of closure which there really can’t be for a long time. Ughhh. What a mess. Sadly, I know exactly how she feels.

Don't don't you sound so excited showing me your vanity?

A few of this week's highlights.

So Monday morning (7:30 am) I’m riding to school on my bike. As I’m pulling into the bike racks at the Clyde building, I notice a janitesse sweeping the walk. Being a guy, naturally, I look off in her direction. Smooth as 50 grit sand paper, I promptly crash into the bike racks evoking a shriek from the tired/bored/unsuspecting custodial worker.

Saturday is the annual Mr. Olympia competition. Ronnie Coleman, Jay Cutler, and Gunter Schlierkamp look to be the top three. How classy are the 19 competitors? Let’s take a look.

From Flexonline.com

"Gustavo Badell, third in the Olympia last year, personally calling out Ronnie Coleman for an impromptu posedown. Gustavo stripped down and stepped onto conference table, while Ronnie declined to do the same. To Gustavo’s claim that he could move up and win the crown, Ronnie replied, “Somebody ought to take the crack from that fool.”

And this clown isn't even going to make it to the top 5

Mustafa Mohammad, making the claim that he had the biggest legs in bodybuilding, which led to a friendly thigh-vs.-thigh comparison with Branch Warren. After an equal response to both from the crowd, Cicherillo called the showdown a draw.

Amusing or disgusting? Both I guess

Also notable is what didn’t happen, and that’s a repeat of last year, in which Gunter and Ronnie exchanged words that melted down into a frenetic and unexpected posedown. While Jay and Gunter spoke strongly, saying they have what it takes this year to win it all and beat Ronnie, they seemed willing to save the physical conflict for Saturday."

As you can see, bodybuilding press conferences typically consist of two 300 pound, normally dressed behemoths shouting at each other. A minute later, two 300 pound speedo clad behemounths continuing to shoult while quickly trying to hit different poses as they fling insults back and forth. If that’s not good old fashioned American sportsmanship, I don’t know what is.

BYU homecoming is also this week. Homecoming…HA

Yesterday, outside Cost-Co, some dude was giving away black Labrador pups. Naturally my roommate couldn’t resist. To bad we have to leave him at a friend’s house south of campus. This is yet one more reason to move out of Brandbury.

Ah glorious day.

And in all the idiots I see Thoughtless men casting doubts on me Enlightening

Ahhh... My foot works fully again, and my grip is back to normal. So I’ve got a few winter routines:

1)The creatine laced meat-head.
2)The struggling triathloner
3)The uber swimmer.

Pros
1) I might be able to get my bench press above 280 and beyond. Further establish dominance/identity in the ward. Look better if I go for the Trojan Man Halloween costume (admittedly, that probably won't happen).
2) I’d be in better shape come spring. My abs would look better. Overall aerobic condition would be optimal.
3) I need the most practice in this area. Swimmers have to use their arms a lot, so it would be a good supplement to weight-lifting.

Cons
1)Chicks don’t dig muscles. Most prefer the 150lb me to the 165lb me. Too bad I’m not taller. My endurance will plummet.
2)Training in the cold sucks. If I don’t eat like crazy I’ll lose even more weight. Endurance training is more mentally taxing.
3)The 24 hour pool is miniscule. It’s crowded. I haven’t mastered flip turns yet.

hmmm....

So I'm hunched over a typewritter, I guess you could call it "painting in a cage."

So Friday…

Finished class and work
Didn’t get AJ’s number, but I did set up a tentative double with Chris however. That’s a start.
Ben never showed up so I didn’t touch his motorcycle.
Jake was running late and didn’t buy new break pads.
Didn’t get around to running, but I did make it to the gym.
Didn’t make it to Low’s, so my mirror is unfinished and hair still uncut.
I DID make it to the mall, and I AM certain I won’t be going back for a long time.
I didn’t talk to Shelley, but I DID talk to her about her car on Sunday.

Friday tally: 4/9

Saturday

Ward service project (aka we've got nothing better to do than transplant cilantro)
Got reacquainted with Lindsey; it turns out that life sucks when the guy you love is engaged to someone else.
Went out on an impulse and drove with Jessica to SLC to buy...a shirt.
Took 20 wrong turns because it was dark and raining
Went to Octoberfest…

Sunday

Twenty hours of church meetings
Reaffirmed that my ward has at most little dating potential
Met a new girl anyway
Watched 7 of the 18 inning Astros/Braves game
Called Joseph to laugh at him and his loser team
Listened to Jordan’s 45 minute, "I’m not really a feminatzi" shpeel
Talked briefly to Cristina and remembered all over again that emotion and the empirical world can never be fully separated if you're anything living. I should talk less.

Weekend synopsis: I almost pulled it off, but not quite.

I'll kick and scream or kneel and bleed. I'll fight like Hell to hide that I'm giving up.

An engineering problem is an engineering problem, right? A degree is a degree. That’s what a lot of employers will tell you once you pick your discipline. Nope. At least not according to grad schools.

After researching ten different grad schools, I’ve learned that even after you divide the schools like EE, ME, ChemE, CE, Computer Engineering and so on, you have M.S.E., M.S.(EE, ME, ChemE), and ME(EE, CE, ChemE, ME). You’ve also got fifty different Ph.D’s. My dad thinks I should be careful not to go interdisciplinary because I might water down my degree. He has a point, but like I said before doesn’t understand how little I care about chemicals. Dr. Solen said that ChemE’s get paid about $20,000 more when all is said and done, so as always I’ve go plenty to stew on this week. Fuel cell research is looking good, but I guess that in the end, getting into the school I want is more important than whether I go ME or ChemE. Which of the two programs at each school do I apply to? I’m tired of thinking about this crap. I think I’ll go sniff chemicals.

So I'll find my fears and face them, or I'll cower like a dog.

Ah... glorious Fridays where you're ahead of schedule and can go home early.

Agenda:
Class now
Work until 3:00
Get AJ's number and hopefully forget about York
Go home and help Ben fixed his motorcycle
Help Jake change break pads
Find my way back to the Provo River Trail
Finish building my four square foot hand mirror so I can cut my hair
Take my annual trip to the mall and look for some new clothes
Take another look at Shelley's car (now that my hand is almost fully functional again)

Our world was once forget-me-nots, and now I'll wait another year. I need you here.

So my apartment was spotlighted during ward prayer for the third time. We use "the basket." As the first apartment to use it, we decided to make it good. Among other things, I made a mixed CD of:

Nerf Herder
Saves the Day
The Format
Brand New
The Get Up Kids
Bad Religion
Live
Guster
Bright Eyes
Toad the Wet Sprocket
K's Choice
Blink 182
Nickelcreek
Elliott Smith
The Shin's
Radiohead
Sarah McLachlan
R.E.M.

Listening to it I realized that I'm still pretty screwed up. So many of the songs are about that distant/unattainable lover/friend. I totally didn't do it on purpose. But it fits. I guess even my subconscious is crazy about her. She called me for the last time on Saturday, and now she's in York. Damn me.

Looks like I better turn the music up a little louder and hit the roads and weights a little harder. Yeah, drown out the depression. That's healthy.

You Vandal (the second one)

It turns out that when you don't maintain an instrument for 15 years, it doesn't work too well when you turn it on.

I got soul but I'm not a soldier (yet)

So we're off to the emergency room. Naturally, my sister's car is no longer operational. Some idiot diconnected the battery. Neither Shelley nor her roommate can drive a stick, so we all pile into my dinky truck. I drive one and a half handed to the ER, sign in and wait and wait...and wait. Initially, there are around 10 people in the waiting room, by 10:00 pm, the place it paced. Out of things to do, I call my dad. I needed to talk to him anyway. We talk about careers, he still doesn't seem to get that I really don't care about chemicals. Being a Chem Engineer hired to optomize petroleum cracking or some other chemical process has zero appeal to me. He still believes I should keep my degree general, and he's right. However, as a graduate student I've got to pick something. Anyway, by 9:45 or so, we finally get to see a nurse. Now I'm waiting on an ER cot. The nurse (a rather good looking one I might add, her name was Callie) comes in and tells me she's going to have to give me some shots in my wound and "it's going to hurt like crazy for a few minutes." She suggests I hold on to my sister's hand. I mention that if it really does hurt, Shelley's hand would probably break were I to hold it. I ask if I could just scream like a little girl instead. A reponse shouts out from the adjacent cot, "NO screaming. The is an ER, not the delivery room." She wasn't being hostile or anything. I imagine she'd had a rough day too and decided not to ask her what was wrong. Two and a half hours and fourteen stitches later, I'm out of there. Were it not for a slightly amusing story, the whole night would have been a waste.

Oh somebody kill me please

So I just bombed my fluids test. Nothing but profanity now. I'm not upset, just tired. I don't think there is anything more I could have done to prepare myself for those problems. I needed more time (the story of my life in EVERY aspect).

My fate lies in the stars now.

You tap the brake while I crack the window

Off work by 6:00pm. Time for car repair, then the gym, then hometeaching, then homework. That was what I had planned on.

I took Shelley’s car battery from the chassis and had it tested. It was fine, so I cleaned the electrodes and proceeded to position it back in the car. There is a crossbar with a square nut, and I needed to loosen to get the battery in place. I didn't have a wrench large enough, so I tried a pair of vice grips (Note that I’m too tired and pissed at the world to go up to my lab to get a proper wrench.)

Naturally, I couldn't place the grips flush with the nut because of the crossbar’s geometry, so I angled them the best I could and pulled…really, really hard.

It turns out that even when you’re angry, the laws of physics still apply. The grips flew off the nut and my left hand with them. My hand came to a stop but not before snagging a piece of sheet metal creating a 2.5" cut along the big muscle controlling my thumb. I looked down through the blood and noticed that I could see the muscle fibers.

"Band AIDS!!" Shelley yelled as she ran inside as I stood outside in shock that I did something so stupid. Then, out of nowhere, I got a, “DANGER WILL ROBINSON” vibe, and my whole body got tingly and cold. Also not good. I carefully walked into Shelley’s apartment and put my hand under some running water in the kitchen sink. (Note: I’m perfectly calm) My vision stared to tunnel, and I had trouble standing. “Knock it off body! I’m fine.” I sat down and put my feet on another chair. I breathed deeply so I don’t throw up. After consulting with my sister and her roommate, we decided I needed stitches and it was off to the emergency room…

Stay tuned for more adventures in Mike’s stupid life.

Diane, I don't say it but I know you know

Do you ever hit that point where you're bummed and don't want to talk to anyone? You're better off doing your own thing and interacting with no one. I hit it all the time. What do I do when I get this way and friends still need me? I don't want to abandon them or pretend I don't care, but I simply don't have the emotional energy to support them during those times. It's hard enough to maintain my own sanity.

Some days you just need a break.

When I need to sate, I just accelerated...into oblivion

Working until 6:30 – not my favorite for a Friday
Steak with marine buddies Mike and Dan – Entertaining and “Delightfully offensive” as Jessica put it
Get together at Cristina’s with 20 other people – not so much my thing
Gym at 11:00pm - unity of thought

$120 aerating with Zach, Wizard People, Dear Reader with 3M and company – pas si pire
Block party on condo row – uber gay
Jessica calling at 12:30 and talking for an hour even though I have church meetings at 7:00am – worth it

Stake leadership “training” at 7:00am the morning where they say nothing more than “be good” and do what we ask –Selfish blood boils, but Bishop Swenson had to be there too. I mustn’t complain (too much).
Sunday School on pioneers with teacher content to read manual – Shit! Does nobody care about anything!!!! A class full of lifeless lumps. Since when was Sunday school about hoop jumping?
Elder’s Quorum – better off saying nothing at all
Dinner at Boss Jim’s with homemade clam chowder, tomato basil, tortilla soup, bread, cornbread, angel-food w/ fresh peaches, and chocolate coconut cake – Heaven. Pure and simple. My stomach will never be large enough
Ward Prayer – not today
Band of Brothers – just missed it
History Channel special on Fallujah – Having your legs filled with AK-47 fire, dragging yourself over a fallen comrade to protect him from a pineapple grenade 6 feet away, maintaining consciousness for an hour while defending your postition with a 9mm. No trite phrase comes close to doing such an event justice.

Brad Kasal, you are an ispiration. http://www.blackfive.net/main/2005/02/brad_kasal_a_us.html

Long conversation with Mike – The world sucks because nobody cares. Europe sucks because the World Wars killed the strong bloodlines. Bush sucks because he’s a politician. America sucks because we only elect politicians.
Fluid Mechanics HW – yeah right.

there's nothing new to talk about

Do you ever wonder what people see when they look at you? Sometimes it is frightening to learn that what a person sees in you is not at all what you see in you or what you expect them to see. Last night was the perfect example. I think it was the first time in years that someone has hurt my feelings. Even your good friends can totally have the wrong idea about you in certain respects. If nothing else, last night was an indication that I need to try harder to match my actions and words with my feelings and beliefs.

But then it's you I could do without

It's back together! After pulling apart my bearings, putting them back together, pulling them apart again, sonicating them in MeOH, Actone, and Toluene, attempting to use TriFlow, cleaning it off, trying again, and cleaning it off a second time, I went out and bought some speed cream. The stuff is some kind of oil, but I think it should work. I relubbed my bearings and reassembled the skate board. Now it's 2:30pm and I haven't even started my day.

Last night I stopped by the 134 girls and dropped off the Christams lights I'd been meaning to fix for two weeks. No one was home, but later, they all sent me text messages or called me. Warm fuzzies are nice.

What is love then? Taking 30 minutes to repair some crappy $10 lights. They know it, and I know it.

The western coast

So I finally did it! Score one for impulsiveness. Satuuday, I went out and bought a longboard. Granted it was the cheapest one I could find, but that's okay. That's all I need. I've been meaning to do this for about a year now. I figure I'll start simple. I'm so bad, I don't dare invite myself to go along with Steve, but once I get the bearings regreased, I'll have time to stink and get better on my own.

Should I stay at work, or should I burn up my time and go to a skate shop to find some bearing grease? Hmmm. I do have some extra time.

I saw you running away for no apparent reason cause you and I are changing for the season

An hour before class, "So we need to change labs. Can you make up these solutions?" "Sure, no problem" An hour later "my wife is having a baby, so they're all yours. I'll see you later." !!??!!??

Yeah, 15 Sr. and grad students who don't know remember a thing from freshman chemistry assigned to work on a lab of which I only know half. All things considered, we survived. I didn't look too scattered I hope. No one got their face burned off. No one drank anything poisonous. I only broke $40 in glassware.

Right now I'm sitting in my lab waiting for a solution to dissolve. Excepting The Format playing in the background combined with the seady hum of the oven filament, it's quiet and peaceful. For the first time in a while, I'm just observing. Stack glassware, ceramic furnace, old instruments, dull beige wall, 70's blue paint. For some reason, it all seems like a painting or desktop background.

Homesick at space camp

Matrix effects in an ICP; now that's an exciting thing to talk about. "So you can fit ten metals in a standard? What about wavelength overlap? How many data points do I need in my calibration curve? Will overloading the detector do any damage?" Ah yes, my job is marvelous.

Today,
KCSC
Books are good
Military presses are painful
SOP's are great fun to write

I'm not that weird I promise. I just have the phone skills of a 16 boy.

"Some one like me needs sunscreen a lot more than someone like you." !!!??? What the hell is wrong with me? I hate the phone. If you're a pretty girl, I suggest you never talk to me on the phone. I'm pretty much always the weirdest person out there. Man, I've got to work on that.

I slept with someone in Fall Out Boy and all I got wast this stupid song written about me

To sipe or not to sipe. So there’s this “new” thing they do to tires called “sipeing” that supposedly gives you better traction and longer tire life. They make these diagonal slits a centimeter into your tread in order to give your tires more surface contact with the road. They claim it also does better in rain and snow. Hmmm. Well I’d really like to get bigger rims on my truck, but dangit, I’m poor. After talking to vendors, parents, and sitting on it for a week, I decided that sweet rims are not going to buy me much more than a slightly better looking vehicle. Meh. So reluctantly, I decided to get new stock size tires on my truck. Putin! Still not cool. Impulsively, I decided to have them sipe my tires raising their price from $40 to $47.50. That’s pretty significant, but education costs money. Right now, I think it will be worth it. We’ll see what I think in 3 months. The tires are guaranteed for 60,000, so I figure I’ll have plenty time to get it figured out. Ye old road bike has gone through 8 tubes in one month. I don’t get it. I picked up a few thorns during the race, sheered a few valve stems while learning how to put the tire on, and had a little bad luck. Okay, a LOT of bad luck. The last one I bought at the bike shop and had them WATCH me do it. They helped me and everything looked fine. I took the bike home. Tire still full. Two days later. Tire still full. I went for a 25 mi ride and came home. Tire still full. Didn’t touch the bike. Following evening. Tire still full. Next day, tire still full. Day after that, tire is flat!!!!??? What the hell? So this time I took the wheel back to the bike shop and told them to do it for me. Hopefully I missed something, or they’ll see what is going on.

Grumble grumble grumble.

What the heck is a "loaded God complex?"

MB (roommate) and I went to CA’s (ex-roommate) wedding in Bountiful. I tell you, weddings are great and depressing at the same time. On the plus side, it is so nice to see it work out for a change. That guy has been through hell to be with Lauren. Her parents did not like him, and probably still don’t. He’s not going to be a doctor or a lawyer, so ht must be an inferior human. Not matter that he makes her happy, no matter that he protects her, no matter that he would give his right arm to be with her. As measly nurse, he may not be able to provide her with a six figure salary thus allowing her to buy clothes she doesn’t want and friends who don’t care about her in a neighborhood of prudes. Mike timidly steps back off the soapbox.

MB cooked vinegar based southern BBQ for the luncheon for 90 people. It was divine. The best he’s done yet. It was quite an ordeal. In addition to the two of us, four other friends assisted. I’ve got to tip my hat to servers; those people have their stuff together. I could believe how hard it was just to set down a plate or pitcher of water.

Like I said weddings are great in many ways. They remind people like me that even doomed relationships have hope. They also help you focus on the happy. All you need is a couple truly golden days and suddenly, all the crap disappears. As always, I sensed a few traces of envy in myself. These moments are the only thing that draws that emotion out of me...On the negative side, weddings also remind me of the treacherousness of the road. Personally, I’m willing to do whatever it takes, but sometimes that road is simply impassible. Realizing you have to turn around and find another one is never fun. I get exhausted just thinking about it.

Alright buddy! you want to go? Let's see it. Crap! I can barely move my legs. Well, I guess you win

Another weird dream.
For some reason, I’m in trouble and will be going to jail to be executed. I’m at my housein Tennessee. My parents are there but don’t seem too concerned. I’m like, “screw this, let’s get out of here” to some other dude I don’t know. I discretely put on my running shoes and navigate to the door. Bang! I’m off running down the field. But now I’m wearing knee high rubber boots and am out of breath in no time. I decide to hide in a ditch. At the bottom of the ditch is my mom’s car which I try to scotch under. The “people” come looking and find me without much trouble. My mom makes some comment that I don’t appreciate. I yell out “F#$@ you” and take off running again. The black drill sergeant guy from celebrity fit club chases after me. Now I’m wearing my brown sketchers and moving as slowly as before. I think to myself, “I’m screwed.” I start to slow down, and suddenly, I’m surrounded.
I then woke up.

Note that my mom is the most selfless person I've ever met. I don't think my subconcious has issues with her, but maybe I'm wrong.

Weird weird weird

I just had several weird dreams.

Yesterday, I drove JW to the airport andt traffic/construction was horrendous. I just about lost it. As the three lane of vehicles were slowly moving and stopping. This enormous RV passed me. It wasn't any big deal, but I made a point to pass and get in front of it because hey, who wants to loose to an RV in a traffic jam.

Somehow in my dream, I was driving an SUV. It was maybe the size of a Yukon and maroon (the color of CW's car that we looked at last night because she'd hit a large tree branch and torn a chunk from her front bumper.) Then suddenly I was out of the SUV reading its instructions. It had all kinds of gadgets, and accordig to the manual, it looked just like the inside of JW's new apartment that I had been in for the first time the day before.

In another part of the dream, I found myself running a triathlon. For a change, I was fast. Typically, I'm really slow in dreams. Unfortunately, after a couple miles I realized, I was only with my cousin JC, I realized we were alone and had, in fact forgotten to do the bike portion of the race. I looked around and notice a squadron of bikers riding on an overpass behind us. I was like, "oh crap, and turned around to go towards them. Then I realize I didn't know how to get there as there were no road markers. I also realize I didn't have a bike. Mine is still in pieces because I 'm trying to find why I've gone through six tubes in a month. Suddenly, I was explaining to my mom, who was also there why I had to give up. No bike. No swiming suit. She was like, "what do yo mean, you're wearing everything." I looked down and noticed I was getting out of the river. She was right, I was wearing my tri-shorts and my bike jersey.

When I got home, everyone was waiting. It was my birthday, and mom had stuck large presents all over the place. The last thing I thought was, "great, kitchen supplies." (Which I rather appreciate in real life.)

Like I said, WEEEEIIIIRRRRDDDDD.

If it were up to me, I'd go home and eat doritos

Rule #1: Anyone can take the initiative on the first date.
Corollary: 90% of the time, those who take the initiative should be cut some slack.

Rule #2: After the first date, it is the guy who makes the next move, and he does it with in a week. He doesn't have to ask her out, but he does have to make contact.
Corollary#1: If the girl doesn't want to go on a second date, she says, "Sorry, I'm busy." Corollary #2: If she does want to go but can't, she say, "Sorry, I'm busy, but ask me again sometime."

Rule #3: "Shy" guys are not interested.

Rule #4: Girls who "are hard to read" are not interested.

Rule #5: NO shaking hands.

Rule #6: NO "will there be another date?" type question at the end of a date.

Rule #7: Holding hands = I like you. Nothing more.

Rule #8: Kissing = I really like you. Nothing more (as in "I want to get married ASAP.").

So now what?

Finals are over now. Boeuf. I managed to bomb my 203 final. It's ironic how months and months of studying and preparation can be negated by a couple dumb mistakes (forgetting to look at the bottom of the page to see the correct formula). I can't believe how many times I've done that. Thus is life and a weakness I may get over someday.

I'm quite tired of life's little lessons costing $500 a pop.

In other news...heck what else matter's besides school?

I say plenty, but right now, I've got little to report.

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

A new leaf and fresh Blog? I hope so. So there's 24 hours in a day, and I've got to start thinking about what to do with what I've got left after work and school. KSCS? Poetasters? Yee old triathlon? Migration to the south of campus? Airating with Zach on the weekends? Hmmmm, so many choices.